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#sorry if this is incoherent at parts. it’s late but I wanted to finish tonight
Note
Ok. Now I gotta get the director’s cut on your fic “12 Hours”
Was it a result of another sudden hyper focus? Or were you planning it and letting it marinate in your brain awhile?
12 hours
Ah yes, thank you for asking!
It’s funny you ask that specifically because it’s kind of— both? I initially only wrote the last 2 hours and the style was very different than what ended up in the final draft. Either way, at some point after writing the first 2; my brain was like “Hey! How about we write ALL TWELVE HOURS LIKE THE TITLE SAYS! WON’T THAT BE FUN!?” And I cried because yes, it would be fun but it would also take wayyyy more time to finish. Alas, at some point I wrote the first six hours before getting stuck on the break. So at that point, it had been marinating for a while. And then Flash day rolls around and I really wanted to post something for it— wrote the entire break and then some, also editing parts of the last two hours. I wrote it from 12-4 am and did not sleep that night. But it was worth it because I posted something for Flash day. So now that that’s been answered— onto the commentary!
I wrote this entire fic in my notes app, there’s an outline in my docs somewhere but it really wasn’t followed at all.
The hour by hour format was my genius way to simultaneously get into Barry’s current headspace AND gave me a set amount of writing needed for each one which was extremely helpful.
His kidnapper had attached each of his wrists to the front bar of a cosmic treadmill and given him one command in a monstrous voice: “Run.”
Some background: in this universe, instead of training and motivating Barry to get faster, Zoom decides the most efficient way is to make him run all day every day. This concept is somewhat adapted from my age old idea of season 1 Thawne putting Barry in a hamster wheel and just forcing him to get faster whether he wants to or not. Obviously the hamster wheel, while funny, isn’t really the right vibe but the premise is similar.
And it’s never mentioned in the fic; but he is getting faster. Zoom’s plan is working and Barry may as well be a dead man running because once Zoom gets what he needs from him; there’ll be no need to keep him alive this time around.
Originally, Jesse and Jay weren’t going to be there because there was no reason for it. Both narratively and in-universe but both of those changed in a way. Narratively, it’s fun to play with Barry’s guilt and self sacrificing tendencies. In-universe, it’s just one more way to keep him trapped. He’s not going to run away if he knows innocent people would be hurt because of it.
But even when this weak and close to powerless, he could still protect them. No matter how exhausted he was, something inside Barry gave him the courage and energy —anytime Zoom made so much as a move toward the other two— to direct their captor’s attention to him. It always left him worse off, bruises and sometimes cuts littering his body. It didn’t matter, he could heal even if it still hurt. Always better me than them.
I’ll admit. This was, in part, my whump gremlin ass hijacking a little bit. BUT it’s those self sacrificing tendencies I mentioned. It’s honestly a huge part of his character so I’m very glad I put it in. Also, that innate need to protect people which is arguably the most prominent trait of his character. Ah poor Barry.
A wave of weakness came over him as the dampeners took effect. It slowed him down just enough to prevent phasing.
Although hostages are an excellent way for Zoom to keep Barry trapped; he’s not stupid enough to just leave him to his running. I knew I needed something that could both prevent his escape and keep him at the treadmill— while allowing him his speed. Lightbulb moment as I remembered the cuffs Thawne used in 1x17 that appeared to do exactly that.
02:59:00
Help me.
02:55:59
Please. Someone come find me, please—
02:54:59
I have to keep going. I can’t. I don’t have a choice.
This was a fun little tidbit I decided to add in to emphasize that Barry is really Not Ok right now. These kind of thoughts happen extremely often and are similar in wording each time. He’s tired, he’s done, he’s been waiting on a rescue for who-knows how long and has pretty much lost hope on that miracle. He’s not quite accepted his fate but that makes the lack of choice so much worse.
Get up or he’ll hurt them. Legs shaking so violently, he got to both feet, began to run, and caught up with the treadmill.
Another very intentional choice. Not sure if it’s canon that did it or maybe it was another fanfiction not sure (or hell— maybe I’m projecting. Who knows)— but I love making Barry’s main motivation protecting others. Perhaps it’s the general lack of self preservation he seems to have. Sparing himself of more pain wasn’t enough, his companions would pay for it if Zoom caught him not running (it happened before and that was the one time he couldn’t protect them. Well, Jesse in this case.) and that’s what he needed to keep going.
There was one last rule. If he stopped on the first run, he wasn’t allowed to feed himself. If he stopped on the second run, as he just had— Zoom would leave him cuffed overnight, and Barry had to sleep like this.
Just some more comfortability motivation for him to keep running because Zoom’s a dick and so am I
With that reminder, he released a dry sob between pants, with energy he most certainly didn’t possess. Sobbed because he’d been here for so long, and he was so tired, and he just wanted to go home.
Crying would have been a waste of energy before now, Barry doesn’t let himself do it until the 12 hours is up.
The penny landed on heads for unhappy ending sorry (jk, it was just the vibe)
Last thing I’ll leave you with is I was this 🤏 close to adding a rescue. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about writing another chapter with just that…
Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut
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hxnbi · 3 months
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⸻ ( •ᴥ• ) ❝ IS THAT... ME? ❞
their reaction to you drawing them ﹒﹒blue lock boys
ft. nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma x gn. reader (separate)
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NAGI SEISHIRO | 凪 誠士郎  ─ ♬. ⁺ ♡
"I'm home!" you called out, expecting some response from the same groggy voice you came to love. 
You had returned home after a long day, and from that, carried alongside a bag from NAGI’s favourite fast food joint as a peace offering for your boyfriend. "Sorry for coming home late. My professor had us stay back for extra lectures, but I brought your favorite—" You trailed off upon seeing him sprawled on the couch, fast asleep.
Nagi awfully had a way of making even the most uncomfortable sleeping positions seem restful. It was admirable, in a weird way. You always saw him sleep in unusual and sometimes contorted positions, and today was no exception. His tall, lanky frame was twisted in what could only be described as a shrimp-like posture, with one arm draped over his eyes and the other hanging off the couch, limbs hanging off the sides in what looked like the most uncomfortable posture imaginable. But for all you knew, he could’ve been having the most refreshing dream ever…
But instead of waking him up immediately, an idea sparked in your mind. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, deciding to capture this moment with a quick sketch. 
You set down the food on the kitchen counter and grabbed your sketchbook. Settling down in a chair nearby, you then began to sketch with light chicken scratches, the lines flowing easily as you captured the endearing, albeit charmingly awkward, way Nagi slept, his mind clearly off to dreamland. His mouth was slightly open, and his hair was a tousled mess—details you knew would make him laugh later.
Once finished, you couldn't resist teasing him a bit. You gently poked your boyfriend's nose with your finger, rousing him from his slumber.
“Sei,” you whispered, “I’m home.”
He mumbled something incoherent, slowly blinking his eyes open to see you standing there, a playful smile on your face.
“I have a gift for you. Well, two,” you said, holding up the drawing and gesturing towards the kitchen table where the food awaited.
That got his attention. Several groans and moans later, Nagi struggled to sit up from his awkward position. As he stretched, you could see his tall, lanky frame finally standing upward, his height and broad shoulders a stark contrast to your own. He sure did look the part of an athlete, even if he did act like a toddler at times.
“I think you look nice like this, don’t you think?” you teased, holding up the drawing.
He groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Why are you saying it like that…”
You laughed and handed him the drawing. He stared at it for a moment, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. 
“I look ridiculous,” he muttered, but you could tell he was amused.
“You should be grateful! Y’know, that’s the sleeping face I came home to tonight when I had bought him for,” you teased, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the kitchen. “I brought your favorite food! So, which gift did you like more?”
“The drawing, of course,” he muttered, his arms still encased around you as he fiddled with the hem of your sleeves and its bottoms.
“You’re just saying that because you want to make me happy,” you said, leaning into his embrace.
“Mhm…” Nagi took his chance—one that was as good as any—to pull you closer, finding a comfortable position that he could easily doze off right then and there. And in a way, he certainly did sound like he was ready to pass out at any second. “And I’m not fixing my posture,” he stated with utter conviction despite his sleepy tone, his tone almost comedic in its seriousness that made you deadpan.
“Sei…”
ISAGI YOICHI | 潔 世一  ─ ♬. ⁺ ♡
From daylight to dusk, your boyfriend, ISAGI, would be playing soccer on the field. Sometimes he would be practising with others, but most of the time it would be between you and Isagi alone. He was easily someone obsessed over the sport, and during the times when you would join him on the field, you would merely sit and watch as he played on his own, all with a hand over your chin and cheering him on. You found it charming to see his love for the sport take shape, with each training session bringing noticeable improvement. But as sweet as it was, it did occasionally bore you at times. 
So you had a plan. During one of the days, before heading together with Isagi on the field, you grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and shoved it in your pocket. That day, a few of his teammates from Blue Lock had joined in, and not wanting to interrupt their practice, you would find yourself and your hands sketching out Isagi while he was playing, capturing a moment of time.
Hours later, as you two walked together, your boyfriend would notice the piece of sketch paper in your hand and, stopping what he was doing, holding the ball in his hands, curiously, sheepishly asked what it was. You laughed,  noticing the boy's hesitant expression—that he didn’t feel particularly comfortable asking, yet his curiosity was too strong to resist not to.
“Oh! It's just a quick sketch I drew of you while you were playing. Do you want to see? I was gonna show it to you later but I suppose there’s no harm in revealing the surprise now!”
A sketch? Of him? Since when did you draw him?
Did he want to see? A drawing of him made by you? Of course he did.
With his neck reaching over your shoulder to get a glance at the paper, his first reaction was a mix of panic and delight, his expression wide-eyed and beaming from ear to ear.
“This is… me?” He struggled to find words, if any at all.
“Yeah!” you laughed. “I tried to capture you in the moment, but it turned out pretty medi—”
Your words were cut off as Isagi came to embrace you, encircling your waist with a grip so strong that it almost knocked you to the ground. He tightened his hold, his arms around your torso, his face nuzzled into your neck.
“I love it,” he murmured. “I love it so much. I can’t believe my significant other is so talented.”
Your mouth went agape just at the level of physical affection Isagi was showing at a mere drawing. “T-Talented?! Me? Yoichi… you’re being modest.”
But that was just it. It wasn’t “just a drawing” to him. It was a masterpiece, a reflection of your love for him. And the playful teasing continued from there. Little did you know, Isagi would bring the drawing to his next game and flaunt it to his teammates, who, for the most part, couldn’t care less. Some were more interested than others.
“Tch, that asshole… not only is he disgustingly talented, but he also has a sweeter-than-sugar significant other.”
“I’d say that bastard is having too much fun.”
“Agreed.”
BACHIRA MEGURU | 蜂楽 廻  ─ ♬. ⁺ ♡
With your binder and papers in hand, enjoying a peaceful moment right outside a school building, waiting for a certain someone to finish class, out of pure boredom and nothing else, you decided to pass the time by doing some doodling. If only he were actually here to be your model, you thought, but, oh well, you made do with what you had. Besides, it was just a little sketch anyway. It's not like he or you would care that much about the finished product.
“Whatcha doing~?” a voice sang loudly, a figure suddenly appearing right over your shoulder, making you flinch until you saw that familiar tuff of black and yellow hair, realizing it was only BACHIRA, your boyfriend.
Bachira excitedly looked at your drawing, his chin resting on your shoulder as a support. “Do you like it?” you asked, a bit shyly.
“I do! Hmmm, what's that supposed to be, an elephant?” he mused. 
‘I’m sorry, wha—’
You would expect that he was joking, but this was Bachira you were talking about. For all you knew, he could be completely serious. And if you knew anything about Bachira, is that he is unpredictable. 
“I- wha- NO! It's you!” you exclaimed, a laugh escaping your lips.
His face lit up even more. “Wahhh really?! I’m honoured!” Bachira grinned, pressing a quick kiss on your cheek. “You’re the best, you know that?”
You smiled back, feeling the warmth of his affection. “I try,” you said, your cheeks heating up with a mix of embarrassment and joy.
“You drew me so well! There’s no way I look this good in real life!”
‘Okk… now he’s pushing it.’
You swear you could see him smiling from ear to ear, and he quickly pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, but just enough to make your face flush red. “I can’t wait to show this to everyone!!”
“Ahah, alright…”
‘He’s not actually going to do that, right…?’
Oh how wrong you were.
The very next day, you'd be greeted by the sight of the drawing you made of him as Bachira’s new wallpaper, front and centre. 
Your mouth fell. ‘He… he really was serious.’
ITOSHI RIN | 糸師 凛  ─ ♬. ⁺ ♡
“...ughhhh.”
“What are you looking at?” 
RIN tapped his own pen on your paper, his index finger rhythmically tapping against the desk. If you didn't know better, you would’ve thought that your own boyfriend was scolding you for doing something bad. Well, that’s because he was.
You and Rin were supposed to be studying together that day, but your mind was drifting elsewhere, going back to all the chores you have lying at home—as if you’re actually going to do them���and what to eat for dinner with your boyfriend; the same boyfriend, who, at that exact moment, was staring hypothetical bullets into the front of his poor paper. Meanwhile, while you were in la la land, Rin was diligently focused on his own work, his head fixated on his own work, while you were scribbling onto a piece of paper that was once your worksheet.
Rin looked up at you, an eyebrow raised. “You must’ve been rather inspired to get on your homework this efficiently..”
“What? O-Oh, yeah,” you stammered, trying to sound convincing.
How convincing indeed. In fact, Rin stood up for once in the entire study period, moving away from his own work to stare directly at you—talking to you in a language using nothing but his eyes. You immediately hid the paper with another piece of lined paper over it, which was, unfortunately, empty. This did not convince your boyfriend at all.
Rin came even closer until he was mere centimetres away from your face. “Do you want to show me what you’ve been doing?”
It wasn’t an order, but that didn’t exactly sound like a request either. You were screwed. 
“Promise you won’t get mad?” you said sheepishly, making Rin sigh, knowing that was even a request. He could never truly get mad at you. 
And with that, you sheepishly revealed your paper, removing your hands to unveil the lead sketch. A moment passed until you heard a sigh exhale from Rin’s exasperated lips.
“Were you seriously paying any attention to what I was teaching you earlier? My explanations may as well have gone through deaf ears.”
“But lookkk! You look so handsome.”
He gave you the most uninterested look imaginable, making you gloomily sink back into your seat in defeat. “Since when do I look like that?” He deadpanned, utterly republished with a scrunched-up expression before critiquing every, and he meant, every single detail, down to where his pupils were looking.
“If you didn’t like it, then you should’ve said so…” you pouted. “Got my hopes up for nothing,” you mumbled under your breath, thinking that Rin didn’t catch that. But if you knew anything about Rin, then you would know he always knows everything, whether you like it or not.
Though, he didn’t say a word, instead, he just shook his head, a small scowl—or was it a smile—tugging at the corners of his mouth as he returned to his chair. 
“We can study another day.”
You lit up. “Really!?”
With the blandest intonation you’ve ever heard, Rin nodded his head, “Yes, so you have all the time in the world to fix that atrocious drawing of me to your heart's content.”
“Aha…”
MIKAGE REO | 御影 玲王  ─ ♬. ⁺ ♡
Sitting in REO's home on one of the dozens of chairs and tables in the grand Mikage mansion, with a pen held in between your fingers, you couldn’t help but gap at the fortune that is Reo’s family before you, the walls being littered with picture frames and paintings upon paintings.
Earlier, you had asked the butler if he could give you a piece of paper and a pen to write with, to which he graciously obliged, disappearing and then reappearing almost instantly with the said items in his hand shortly before Reo arrived home and joined you, settling in to do some homework. He was always a hard worker. As for what you were doing? Unbeknownst to Reo himself, you decided to use your boyfriend as an unpaid, unknowing model for your sketching.
His focused expression made him an ideal subject, and as you were scribbling and sketching, you found yourself lost in the details of the handsome features of your boyfriend. Only when he turned to look up and see what was really being drawn on your piece of paper, did Reo’s eyes widen in surprise.
"You drew this?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.
You nodded, “Yep! Do you like it?”
He loved it. Absolutely loved it. 
Reo, with his hand running through the middle part of his hair, let out an exasperated sigh, “Hah… is that even a question? Of course, I do.”
He went back to admiring the sheet of paper that you had spent—unbeknownst to him—an hour drawing. Though you would never consider that to be a waste of time, anything for your lover was time well spent, and in fact, more than that.
“Can I take it?”
You blinked, for a second being taken aback. It certainly did take you a while, but Reo wanted it? Oh well, you were never going to refuse. “Uh-huh! The drawing is of you, after all. What could I do with it other than admire it? I already can do so in person.”
You had initially assumed that Reo would probably just put it somewhere and then leave it to collect dust. Little did you know, that the very next day, you would see your drawing framed in a luscious and expensive frame, hanging in the centre of the main hall. Reo’s butler had hung it with great care, that was ensured, displayed in a way that highlighted its importance.
Your heart melted in a thousand different ways. This… this was too much.
You felt a hand clasp your own. The warmth of your boyfriend and his hand wrapping around your own. “So~? What do you think?”
Tears. Tears and tears dripped down your face as you looked at the framed drawing. It was more than you ever expected.
And as Reo held you in his arms while you continued to weep, from the corner, Reo’s butler watched from a distance, giving his pleased nod of approval. Anyone passing by couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity and marvel at the audacity of such a bold choice in “home decor,” but to you, it was a moment of pure, heartfelt joy, and one that you would never forget. 
And you wouldn’t. Not when Reo would continue to keep that drawing on the walls for months and explicitly show off to those who were unfortunate enough to be invited to his mansion for “work purposes,” only to get a mouthful about his beloved significant other.
CHIGIRI HYOMA | 千切 豹馬  ─ ♬. ⁺ ♡
Utterly unperturbed by your presence and fully engrossed in the tangles in his hair of all things, CHIGIRI was doing his hair care like always. An extensive hair care routine that would take probably an hour at the very least, from all the times you’ve timed him while getting ready. Sitting at the living room table, you fiddled with the pen in your hand. You nearly wanted to drop it right then and there when you saw Chigiri bring his entire bag of presumably hair care products and a mirror.
You yawned, glancing around the cozy living room. Now who does their hair care in the middle of the living room?
“Do not worry. I won’t bother you with your work.”
You gave him a nod. “That’s not a problem at all. Do what you have to do. The shampoo you use smells good anyway.”
With a short laugh at your forward comment, thus began his haircare routine which felt like hours, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were missing the presence of your boyfriend at your side. 
Every now and then, you would glance up at Chigiri, admiring the way his hair glistened in the light, even with droplets of water still clinging to each strand. Chigiri did, and even with his wet hair, he looked oddly handsome. Granted, he always did look handsome in your eyes, but there was just a sort of natural beauty to him that anyone who passed by would be hard-pressed to ignore. And so, out of boredom, you decided to draw him while Chigiri was all but focused on his hair. His true one true love, as many would say and mock him for. 
“.....”
“Hm, I didn’t know you could draw.”
“GAH!”
Your shoulders jumped in fright, nearly knocking over your pencil and capsizing off your chair to the cold ground. “God… you nearly scared the life out of me.”
He chuckled softly. “I’m sorry. Is that me? It looks really nice. I had no idea you were such an artist.” Chigiri, still with his half-cleaned-up hair, leaned closer, examining the details with genuine curiosity.
You chuckled sheepishly. “You’re just saying that to be nice.”
“No no, I mean it,” Chigiri insisted, glancing over at your sketch while pushing the hair from his face to get a better look. “Can I see it again?”
You hesitated but handed over the drawing, allowing his eyes to roam all over it. A soft smile formed on his lips. 
“It’s beautiful. You captured me perfectly.”
Your heart swelled with pride. “Really?! You think so? …Your hair does look a lil wonky, it’s usually a bit more—”
“It’s perfect,” Chigiri assured you with a pat of your hair. “Just like you. I might have to ask you to draw me more often.”
You laughed, feeling a warm blush creep up your cheeks. “Anytime.”
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©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡
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jahayla-parker · 4 months
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The Master Part 6
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1.8k wc
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Self-Appointed Protector
“We’ll blame it on the effects of the alcohol,” Tom teased, lifting up y/n’s halfway empty glass. He knew the truly awful attempt at a British accent had nothing to do with the limited amount of alcohol she’d consumed tonight. But, he’d still wanted to lighten the mood when she seemed slightly disappointed in herself over the bad attempt.
Y/n giggled and nodded in silent agreement. She shook her head at herself before scooting closer to Tom and laying her head on his shoulder. She smiled when he snaked his arm around her as he began to tell her another story.
Meanwhile, Olivia was barely managing to not roll her eyes as she sipped on her drink on the other side of the club. She couldn’t understand it. Tom could be with anyone. He is a rich celebrity. Why was he choosing to spend his time with y/n? She wasn’t a bad friend, y/n just didn’t need him to choose her the way Olivia did. If he chose Olivia instead, nothing would be out of reach; she could afford whatever she wanted and get the boost her career needed. She sighed to herself in frustration. She’d sat back and watched this pathetic little blossoming of a relationship between him and y/n for too long now, it was actually making some headway. Therefore, it was time for her to act. If she wanted to be the one with Tom, she needed to intervene before things could truly take hold between him and y/n.
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“No,” y/n repeated with a frown, getting up from her seat at the half-circle table she and Tom had been at. He’d left to go get them some more beverages and had been gone maybe two minutes when this slimy man had approached her. She’d already politely expressed she wasn’t interested, but he refused to leave her be. “Now please just leave me be,” she requested as she began to try to walk past him.
Tom was extremely grateful Harrison had been scanning the club for a girl to try and hit on because it meant he’d noticed the interaction between y/n and the strange man. He had nudged Tom just as Tom went to pick up the finished drinks from the bartender. Upon turning to face where Harrison was pointing, Tom released the glasses and pushed his way through the crowd. It felt like a lifetime, but when he finally n reached y/n’s side, he sprung into action. “Hey mate, I’m her boyfriend, how’s about you leave her be, hmm?” He asked rhetorically as he snaked his arm around y/n’s waist and pulled her to him. They hadn’t defined what they were currently. But, this guy was bothering her and doing/saying this would stop it.
She quickly caught on to what Tom was doing, his intense glare at the slimy stranger reaffirming her interpretation of his behavior. She played along and leaned into Tom.
“You alright love?” Tom asked her, his eyes softening as he gazed at her.
She nodded, “yeah, thank you baby”. She wrapped her arms around him as she chanced a look at the other guy to see if he’d gotten the hint. Luckily he apparently had as he mumbled something incoherent before finally walking away.
“Are you truly alright?” Tom questioned, stepping back just enough to see her better now that the man had left.
“I am, yeah. Thank you T,” y/n said with a small smile, her arms not leaving his frame.
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“Pacha is open until four, and it’s on the beach!” Tati suggested as their group was trying to decide which club to hit next. Nearly everyone instantly agreed, but she noticed that y/n, who was standing right beside her, hadn’t reacted. “Whatcha say girl? Pacha?”
Y/n blinked rapidly as her brain tried to refocus after having spaced out for a moment. She knew everyone was wanting to head to be another club since it was barely nearing midnight and the Barcelona club scene didn’t really start dying down for another couple hours. However, after such a long day on set, even her power nap earlier wasn’t enough to keep her awake and attentive this late. She covered her mouth as she tried to stifle a yawn. “Actually, sorry guys,” she said, glancing around at their group, “you all have fun!” “But I’m truly exhausted,” she laughed, “so I’m going to head back to my place for the night. But I’ll see you on set later!”
“I’ll go with you,” Tom said. He noticed the way everyone was looking at him, many of whom were clearly misinterpreting his intentions. “That way I can make sure you get back safely,” he added, nodding his head towards the entrance where he knew the crowds would still be; but also thinking of the creepy man from earlier.
Y/n smiled shyly and gave Tom a side hug, “thank you, but I’ll be okay”. She didn’t want to be the one holding him back from having fun with the rest of the cast and crew. “You go have fun, I can text you to let you know when I get back safely,” she offered.
Tom shook his head and placed a hand on her mid-to-lower back. “I’d rather see to it myself if that’s alright,” he stated, smiling reassuringly when she looked up at him with slight guilt.
Tom sighed with relief as they excited the club to find the crowd had cleared out, leaving only new club goers waiting for entry. He nevertheless protectively kept his hand on y/n’s back as he walked with her to the curb. He looked over at his bodyguard Jack and once he saw the man was shielding y/n’s left with his presence, Tom shifted to her right to ensure both sides were protected. In doing so, he noticed the way she was trying to stealthily rub her arms as they waited for his service van. He quickly took off his jacket and draped it around her bare shoulders. Upon seeing her appreciative smile, he moved to stand before her for just a moment, his eyes still keeping a lookout for the possibility of anyone approaching her right side. He helped guide her arms into the sleeves of his jacket and finished buttoning it up over her chest just as the van arrived at the end of the road. Tom moved back to her side and protectively guided her into the vehicle before getting in after her.
Y/n yawned and slowly lowered her head onto Tom’s shoulder. She hummed peacefully as he gently held her closer, her eyelids fluttering closed. “Thank you for saving me earlier T,” she whispered as she tried not to simply melt into his embrace.
Tom looked down at her and shook his head. “It’s my pleasure,” he admitted. “I just.. I hate that it was even necessary… I can’t imagine what women feel like going through that all the time.” He sighed but smiled sympathetically when she turned her head to look up at him.
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“Do you have set plans for tomorrow?” Tom inquired as he walked beside y/n as they approached their apartment building.
Having assumed Tom was referring to her work schedule, she pulled out her phone to check her calendar’s notes. She held the device out between the two of them as her calendar app opened. ”I have to finish repairing the details of the ship’s hull but should be done with that by noon and then just waiting for my next assignment,” she commented.
He tried not to immediately mention the thoughts that were now plaguing his mind and focus on her statement. He nodded along before giving her a sheepish smile. “I’m glad to know I should be able to see more of you on set tomorrow,” he admitted with a wink, “but I was actually wondering about your evening plans”.
“Oh,” she laughed. “Nothing after work,” she answered with a smile, putting her phone away.
He decided now was an acceptable time to bring up what he’d noticed on her phone. When looking at the entries on her calendar for August 20th, he saw the note that it was her 25th birthday. “I didn’t know it was your birthday tomorrow,” he commented, looking over at her curiously.
She shrugged casually. “Yeah,” she giggled.
“Why didn’t you say anything about it?” He asked with a light chuckle. “You’re really not doing anything for your birthday?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged again. “I didn’t want to make a big deal about it, what with working and filming”.
He squinted at her in disbelief. He shook his head and scoffed playfully. “That’s nonsense, everyone should get to celebrate their birthday”. He tenderly took her left hand in his right and smiled. “Why don’t we go out to dinner tomorrow to celebrate your birthday?” When he saw the glow in her eyes as she looked over at him, he grinned wider. “And since it’ll be just the two of us, it could also be our first official date,” he added bashfully, his pinks crimson.
She nodded far too quickly, her flushed cheeks not helping to hide her excitement. “Okay, yeah, I’d like that”.
“Oh, here,” she gushed, moving to take off Tom’s jacket as they reached the door to her apartment. “Thanks again”.
Tom set his hand lightly on her shoulder, over the jacket material. “You can hold on to it for me,” he offered. “Besides, it looks far better on you anyways”.
She bit her lip bashfully as her eyes flickered down to her shoes for a moment. After calming herself, she looked back up only to meet Tom’s eyes that had been on her the whole time.
They stood there silently for a moment, neither one moving. Their eyes trailed the other’s face before they both met each other’s gaze again.
Tom scratched the back of his neck nervously as he tried to keep from looking at y/n’s lips. “So, erm… happy early birthday,” he smiled, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
She nodded with a smile. She moved forward and initiated a hug, but Tom quickly reciprocated it with a tender but tight hold on her. She found her heart rate slowing peacefully as they embraced for what was probably longer than the standard length of a friendly hug. It wasn’t until she felt her eyes getting heavy and knew if she stayed in his arms any longer she would soon begin to drift off into a slumber that she knew she should pull away. She slowly detached herself from Tom and gave him a bright smile. “Thank you again for tonight Tom, I’ll see you soon,” she whispered shyly.
Tom’s feet shuffled needlessly under him as he nodded, a bashful smile on his face as he watched her open her door. “Goodnight,” he whispered, grinning to himself when she whispered it back.
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gubler-me-up · 4 years
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No Need to Rush
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Request: can u pls do a spencer x bau fem! reader where she’s dyslexic but also a genius like spencer and like someone maybe another member of the team/unsub makes a comment abt her being stupid. and she gets really upset abt it. then later spencer comforts her and they have really romantic but rough sex. where he’s just like reassuring her of how smart and beautiful she is.
A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Sorry this took a lil long to complete but I wanted to make sure I wrote this accurately and incorporate everything you wanted into it! Please let me know if you don’t feel as if this representation of dyslexia sits right with you and I will edit it no problem. This fic also concludes smut week (woo!) so I hope you enjoy 💓 
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader
Category: Smut
Content warning: Learning disorder degradation, mentions of violence, rough sex, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie, choking
Word count: 3.2k
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It was the dead of winter in Seattle, Washington and a sniper decided it was the best time to have some target practice. His target practice ended up taking three innocent people’s lives as they were living their day-to-day lives. To top off his killing spree, he wrote handwritten letters to the police department. His letters were rambles about him not stopping until he finds his final target.
Hotch had left Spencer and you to go over the letters to try and figure out any indications of who his final target could be. He had sent JJ and Morgan to interview the victim’s family members to try and see if there were any similar people in their circle. Having you four working diligently on piecing the entire story together could end up saving another person from meeting an early demise.
You loved working with Spencer because the two of you were always up to speed with your thinking process. Both of you analyzed each letter with care, making sure nothing was missed which could possibly be used as a clue in identifying who this person and who their real target is.
You felt as if you were taking too long to go through every letter. There were about 20 of them and his incoherent rambles were giving you a hard time efficiently reading them. You had 10 to go through and Spencer was already finished and writing on the whiteboard clues he found in the letters. You were still on your seventh letter, dissecting and writing down what you thought was important. You couldn’t help feeling bad you were taking a long time.
“I’m sorry,” you said.
Spencer looked back at you with a questionable expression. “For what?”
“For taking forever. I’m taking up time reading these letters when I should be brainstorming with you.”
“Y/N, you’re not slowing down the process. If anything you taking your time can identify some major evidence.”
“Yeah, but you could do it within two minutes.”
“Doesn’t mean anything. Valuable information is valuable information no matter how long it takes you to find it. Besides you’re the smartest person I know, so nothing will get past you.”
“Doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”
“I’m here to remind you it’s all the time. I’ll be here to remind you every day if you ever doubt yourself.”
You smiled as you felt your worries drifting away. You were always self-conscious about having dyslexia. Growing up with it was the hardest part of your early years because people would see your extraordinary capabilities but questioned them whenever you had to read or spending longer than usual completing tasks. It was embarrassing for you. Even in adulthood you felt anxious about letting people know you were dyslexic because you were worried they wouldn’t see you as a genius.
When you let the members of the team know you were dyslexic, they accepted you as you were. It made you feel welcomed and understood for once in the longest while. It was especially nice hearing Spencer say you were a genius regardless of your dyslexia. You felt as if he understood you the most out of everyone because he had a rough time growing up as a child prodigy.
As you continued to read through the letter you were on, something caught your eye. You looked up at the whiteboard to see what Spencer had written. He had written about sunsets, trees and a park. He had concluded it was about Kerry Park in Seattle and speculated the unsub could possibly live near there. What you had read though made you think of a different possibility.
“Kelly Park,” you said aloud.
Spencer turned to you. “Kelly Park?”
Before you could explain your findings, Hotch and detective Royce entered the room. You were happy they did, so you could explain to everyone your theory as to who the unsays actual target is.
“Find any useful information we can put towards finding the unsub?” Hotch asked.
You nodded. “Yes. Kelly Park’s the end goal.”
“Kelly Park? You mean Kerry Park by West Highland,” detective Royce said.
“No, I mean, yes, but the unsub slipped up…uh no, they-uh- replaced Kelly with Kerry because there is a Kelly Park who lives nearby,” you explained.
“Wait, so is it Kerry or Kelly the name of the person who lives nearby Kerry’s Park?” Hotch asked.
“Sorry, sir. It’s Kelly Park who lives nearby Kerry’s Park.”
“How can you even speculate that?” Detective Royce asked.
“Because it’s in this letter. He says, ‘I spend my days looking at Kelly Park and wondering when I’d be brave enough to leave. I don’t think I am but one day I’ll be free,’” you said while holding it up.
Detective Royce took it from your hand to take a closer look. He furrowed his eyebrows as he read. He looked back up at you questionably.
“Maybe he’s dyslexic. Only an idiot would write Kelly instead of Kerry when referring to Kerry Park,” he said.
You clenched your jaw as he said his ignorant statement. You knew the unsub wasn’t dyslexic and you had a clue right infant of you. You snatched the letter away from his hands as you took a deep breath to calm yourself down.
“I’m actually dyslexic myself and I can tell you right now this unsub is not,” you said.
“I should have known from the time you mixed up Kerry and Kelly in your explanation. For a genius you sure don’t talk like one,” he said.
You felt your eyes stinging from the tears which were trying to breakthrough. What he said was familiar to everything you heard from your childhood. It was degrading to hear it when you knew you were on to something. Especially evidence which could potentially save someone.
“Don’t talk to one of my agents with such disrespect, Royce. My team and I would never slander your team, so we expect the same courtesy back,” Hotch said.
“Hotchner, you can’t seriously believe this is a connection,” detective Royce said.
“Who said it couldn’t be?” Spencer said.
“Common sense. He’s trying to mess up his words on purpose to take us off track from what really matters,” detective Royce said.
“Well, I’m not taking that risk. While you stand there with your arro…ignorance, I’ll actually go and do something about this piece of evidence,” you said as you walked by him to exit the room.
You could feel your heart drop with every step you took. Before you called Garcia you took a trip to the washroom. You went into a stall and made sure it was locked before you let your tears escape. You hadn’t felt humiliated for the longest time. The questionable look and harsh comments detective Royce spat at you made you feel sick. You knew you were smart and you knew you were onto evidence to save someone’s life. Yet you were doubted.
You wiped your tears away and took a few deep breaths before exiting the stall. You couldn’t let what he said distract you from finding Kelly Royce. You knew it would affect you for the rest of the day but you would sleep better at night knowing you saved a life. You didn’t want to be crying over two things tonight.
------
You sat on the edge of the hotel room bed. You had finished getting ready for the night and were ready to get into bed to forget about the day. You were happy you were right about Kelly Park and saved her hours before she was scheduled to go into the heart of Seattle for an appointment. Her ex-boyfriend, Michael Richards, had plotted for months on how to make her death look like an accident. Too bad his guilty conscience and ego didn’t mix well and he compulsively wrote down his thoughts.
It bothered you immensely detective Royce still didn’t give you your flowers at the end of everything. You understood not everyone would apologize for their ignorance and you should be used to it by now. However, you couldn’t help but think about it over and over.
You heard a few light knocks on your hotel room door. You looked at the clock. It was 11 p.m. You got up to go peek through the peephole to see who was trying to get your attention this time of night. You looked through the peephole and saw Spencer standing outside. You opened the door. As you opened it he looked at you with a smile but you could see the concern in his eyes.
“What brings you to this part of town so late?” You asked.
“I want to make sure you’re okay before you go to bed. I know how frustrating today was for you and I don’t want you going to bed with doubt on your mind,” he explained.
You stepped aside and gestured him to come inside your hotel room. You were happy he had stopped by. He was always the first one to give you words of encouragement and a reason to put your doubts aside. You closed the door and made your way over to the edge of the bed to sit. You patted the spot next to you for him to sit down. He took the seat next to you, sitting closer to you than expected. You two were shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. It was comforting to you for him to be so close.
“You know, if it wasn’t for you pointing out Kelly Park in his letter, she might not be alive,” he said.
“I know and I’m glad it worked out in the end. I just…”
You trailed off as a wave of doubt overthrew your thought process. You started to think if you had been wrong, if it were just your dyslexia getting the best of you, an innocent life could have been taken. A tear slipped from your right eye. You quickly wiped it away before Spencer saw. He must have seen it escape because he placed his hand on your thigh and squeezed it.
“You have a beautiful mind, Y/N,” he assured you.
“It doesn’t translate properly when I say the wrong words, read slower than average, mix up-”
“And all that doesn’t make a difference to how you save lives every day. If detective Royce wasn’t so prideful he would have thanked you properly for bringing to light what they brushed off,” he said.
You chuckled. “Yeah, he is a prideful idiot.”
“Exactly, so don’t let him or other doubters get to you. I believe in you wholeheartedly and always will. The team does as well, so we’ll always back you up.”
You smiled brightly at him as you felt your deep sadness fade away. He had such a way with words you felt as if you could rule the world solely based on his encouragement. You opened up your arms and embraced him in a hug. He wrapped his arms around the small of your back. He rubbed your back gently as you placed your head comfortably in the crook of his neck.
“I love how you’re always here for me, Spence,” you whispered into his neck.
“I’ll always be here to remind you of your worth and beauty,” he said.
You leaned up from his neck and faced him straight on. Your faces were just an inch away from each other as you lost yourself in his eyes. You softly smiled and found yourself saying things before your brain could process them.
“I could just kiss you right now,” you blurted out.
“Why don’t you?” He asked.
You were now speechless as you weren’t expecting him to be open to the idea. Perhaps he did find more than just your mind to be beautiful. One of his hands moved from your back and found its way to the side of your face. He moved your face closer to his and your lips finally met each other. He gently eased his tongue into your mouth before he dived fully into your mouth.
You placed your hands on his chest. You pulled on his shirt to bring him forward even more to minimize the space between you two. He moved his hands and placed them both on your hip. He brought you onto his lap without breaking your kiss. You glued your hands to his face to prevent him from even considering moving away from you. His hands squeezed before slipping his hands down your pyjama pants.
You didn’t give it a second thought and raised yourself off his hips so he could pull your pants off along with your underwear. He leaned away from your lips as he stared at you with a deep yearning in his eyes. He caressed his hands up your thighs, to your hips and then under your shirt. He pulled your shirt off to reveal your bare breasts.
“I hope you like what you see,” you said.
He smiled. “Of course. You’re beautiful beyond words.”
He then placed your right nipple in his mouth and swirled his tongue around your nipple. You moaned loudly as his tongue made your nipple feel a stimulation you never thought they could feel. He freed your nipple from his mouth as he quietly hushed you.
“We can’t let anyone know where in the same room together,” he whispered.
“I don’t care,” you said as you desperately leaned into him to steal another kiss.
He kissed you back. You held his head in place so he wouldn’t dare move away from you again. You soon felt his thumb circling around your clit. It wasn’t enough to make you stop kissing him but it made you release endless moans into his mouth. You then felt him shove two fingers into you which made you stop kissing him and set your moans free into the atmosphere. He pumped his fingers in and out of you so quickly you couldn’t find the time to catch your breath.
“If you can’t handle my fingers, how do you expect to handle my dick, beautiful?” He asked.
“I…I can,” you stammered.
He smiled. “I haven’t doubted you yet, have I??”
He took his fingers out of you and went to work on undoing his pants. You stared down at his huge bulge as he slipped down his pants and then his underwear. Your eyes widened as you saw his dick. He looked at you to see the amazement in your eyes. He softly chuckled as he grabbed your ass and squeezed it tight as he brought you forward to position you.
“Sit down on it and try not to be too loud,” he demanded.
You did what he asked and lowered yourself onto his dick. The further you went beyond the tip the more your mouth went agape. You could barely even get to the base without feeling as if his dick was already completely inside of you. He did you the favour and forced you all the way down on his dick. You let out a shriek which was cut short by him sticking his two fingers coated in your juices inside your mouth.
“Bounce on it and don’t make a sound. Understand?” He asked.
He nodded your head ‘yes’ for you and you started bouncing on his dick. You could feel your legs quaking as you engulfed his dick in and out of your repeatedly. Once you established a rhythm, you rolled your eyes to the back of your head and enjoyed every inch of his dick stretching your walls.
“How about we pick up the pace?” He asked.
Your eyes shot open as he bucked his hips up and disrupted your rhythm with his new set motion. You moaned heavily around his fingers as his dick kept ramming into you with no mercy. He used his other hand and squeezed your left breast. He licked your breasts before gently biting your nipple.
“Fuck,” you moaned.
“I only ever treat extraordinary women like this,” he said.
“Really?” You moaned.
He lifted you off his dick and laid you on the bed. He gently wrapped his large hands around your throat as he positioned himself on top of you. You could feel your adrenaline pumping as he lowered his face down to yours and kissed you softly on your lips before he stared into your eyes.
“You’re the only extraordinary woman I know,” he said.
“Fuck me like an extraordinary woman,” you said.
He obliged and rammed his dick into you with urgency. You moaned repeatedly as you took in every inch of his dick inside of you. He kissed along your jawline before reaching your ear.
“Who gets fucked like this?” He asked.
“Extraordinary women,” you whimpered.
“And what are you?” He asked.
“An extraordinary woman,” you whimpered.
As he continued to fuck some sense into you, he whispered nothing but the sweetest things in your ear. He called you beautiful, brilliant, amazing and his favourite, extraordinary. It felt nice hearing those things being repeated over and over in your ear especially by him. His dick definitely enforced the message as with every word he said to you, his motion would intensify. You wrapped your legs around him as he continued to fuck you.
“Where do you want me to cum, beautiful?” He asked.
“Inside of me,” you moaned.
He tightened the grip around your neck. “Louder.”
“Inside of me,” you shrieked.
“Look at me while I cum inside of you,” he demanded.
He grabbed your face to keep you still so your eyes were focused on him the whole time. He bit his bottom lip as he stared at your worn-out expression as he fucked you. He slowly stopped going at his rapid pace and soon stopped. You felt his cum fill your insides and you let out a soft moan at the feeling.
He let go of your neck and eased up from on top of you. You felt him stick two fingers in you and he pulled them out quickly. He placed his cum covered fingers on your lips. You opened your mouth and licked the cum dripping off his fingers.
“I don’t ever want you to doubt yourself again. You’re fucking amazing,” he said.
You leaned up on your elbows and smiled. “You are too.”
“Since I can’t stay in your room for the night without raising suspicions in the morning, how about we do something when we get back home and you can stay the night at my place? You know, for extra reassurance,” he said with a smile.
You giggled. “I’d love that.”
He leaned into you and gave you another big kiss on the lips. As he parted from your lips he stared at you with softer eyes from before and brushed your hair back.
“Maybe I’ll stay for a few more minutes. You like cuddles?” He asked.
“I love them,” you said.
He chuckled. “Great because I have a deep desire to cuddle you and make you know you’re treasured.”
You could have cried when he said that. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck and pecked him on the lips. It wasn’t the best time to cry. You wanted to cherish the moment as a positive part of the day.
“Thank you, Spence. You’re extraordinary.”
“I guess that makes us a perfect match.”
“It sure does.”
—–
Tagged: @shadyladyperfection​, @slutforthegubes​, @pinkdiamond1016​, @spencerreidsthings​, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @slutforsr​ @bxtchboy69​, @fallinallinmendes​
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angelamajiki · 4 years
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PART ONE (yandere)
PAIRINGS: Bunny! Tamaki Amajiki x Reader
CW: nsfw, pegging, orgasm denial, mommy kink, rimming, fingering, kissing, spanking, praise kink, power play
AN: no yandere this time but please enjoy!! sorry it’s a day late <33
To say he was nervous about bringing up the topic was a hell of an understatement.
Even still, Tamaki was so afraid of your judgment and disapproval despite having been in a long-term relationship. His nerves never quite seemed to know how to calm themselves, especially when it came to you.
“What do you think, c-can we try it?” He shyly asked, taking your hand in his and looking up at you with those doe eyes you simply adore.
“Is that any way to ask mommy for something, bunny?”
Tamaki’s face flushed even further at the mention of his favorite name for you, feeling his blush spread to his pointed ears.
“Please, will you peg me, mommy?”
———— •
The two of you went down a sex shop the next day for preparations, letting Tamaki pick out the dildo he felt most comfortable letting you use. His blush was at an all-time high, making him seem near feverish as he snatched a 4-inch carrot-shaped one off the wall and into the basket you carried.
“Excellent choice.” You whispered in his ear, making him lurk further into the turtleneck of his sweater. “So eager, bunny. Why don't we hurry home so we can play, huh?”
———— •
Playtime was on for your little hybrid the second you made it back home. He bounded off to the bedroom, bag in hand as you locked up the front door. How cute, his leg was thumping in excitement on the bed when you finally entered the room.
Tail twitching in excitement, Tamaki pulled you on top of him and fell back onto the bed. Lean legs wrapped around your waist and slender arms looped around your neck. The sweet thing beneath you was practically shaking in anticipation under your deft touch.
Gentle fingers ghosted over his tail, making him buck his hips into yours with a whine.
“Now, now, no whining, Maki. Just tell mommy what you want.”
“W-Want you inside, mommy.” He whined again, turning his head into the pillow as he ground his hips up into yours.
Detangling yourself from him, Tamaki flipped himself over with his pert little ass in the air and flushed face in the sheets. He pulled down his shorts and flung them off the bed. He always did like to keep his shirt on, though, the shy thing he was.
You settled onto your knees behind him, pushing his back down to buck his hips up towards you. Gathering a glob of spit, you let it drip onto his hole, making him squirm beneath you.
“Be still.” You ordered, giving him a quick spank to his ass.
Your tongue set out to work on his tight, puckered hole, chuckling into him when he squeezed himself around nothing but your appendage. His squeals and whines were music to your ears as you lapped against his hole, milking his hard cock at the same time with your free hand.
Tamaki couldn't help but grip your hair with nimble fingers, pushing his hips against your face. Your tongue sent sparks throughout his whole body, making him convulse under your hot mouth.
“Oh fuck, mommy!”
Another spank landed on his backside, forcing a yelp and a jerk out of him.
“Mind your manners, boy.”
“Y-Yes mommy.”
Silly boy, he knows better than to swear at you. You chose to forego giving him an orgasm through rimming and cut straight to the chase, slathering lube against his already wet hole.
A single finger wiggled its way inside of him, drawing out a wanton moan from his trembling lips. The digit pumped slowly in and out of him, gently prodding around for his sweet spot.
You set a slow pace, loving the sounds you were pulling from your bunny. You intended to prep your boy thoroughly. The finger finally found his prostate, rubbing it gently.
Cries spilled from his lips as you continued to milk his cock, adoring his pleas and begs for you to slow down, that he was going to cum.
“Did I say you could cum? Naughty thing.”
“P-Please? Oh please, mommy. I need to cum!” He panted out, hips twitching and bucking under your touch. “Mommy! I can’t, I can’t-”
“Shh, shh. It's alright, sweet pea, go ahead and cum.”
Tamaki came a few seconds later with permission, crying out as he shot hot ropes of cum all over the bedspread beneath him. You finger and hand didn't stop once he finished and instead, you opted to add another finger to his hole.
Tamaki squirmed violently underneath you, whining and shouting that mommy it was too much!
“I said be still, boy. Do l need to punish you? You're really pushing my last nerve tonight. So disrespectful.”
Both your fingers abused his prostate, making him howl and drool under you as he came, over-sensitive and overstimulated from his previous orgasm.
Mumbles of apologies and praises for you slipped from his quivering mouth. Feeling kind enough to let him catch his breath, you gently stroked his back as he sobbed into the pillow.
“Shh, you're alright, sweet pea. You're okay.”
Poor thing, Tamaki was always such a sensitive boy.
His hips started to buck up into your hand as he gripped the sheets.
“More, mommy. Please?” His voice was hoarse from his shouting and moaning, barely above a whisper, as he held onto your free hand and laced your fingers together. “I need you.”
The two fingers inside him began to piston in and out of him again, staying sweet and slow. You savored the soft moans seeping from him and gave the back of his hand a gentle kiss.
“There we go, honey. Just like that. You're such a good boy for me.”
Tamaki whimpered at the praise, squeezing your hand tightly as his hole clenched around the third finger entering him.
“Feels good to be stretched, huh baby.”
The boy nodded, tugging your arm towards him so he could place a sweet kiss on your plush lips. He whimpered and whined into the kiss as all three fingers circled his sweet spot. Licking at your lips, you deepened the kiss with his tongue, gently sucking on it while he enveloped your lips with his.
The next build to his orgasm was slow and gentle, letting him moan softly with teary eyes as he came for the third time, this time untouched.
You pet his sweaty forehead as you pecked at his lips, riding out his high with a smile.
“I think my good boy is ready for his treat now.” You mused. “What do you think, bunny?”
Tamaki nodded quickly, getting onto his back as you locked the strap into place on your hips.
“Come now, suck on mommy’s cock.”
Hauling him up to his knees, you stood before him on the bed and nudged the silicon at his lips. Obediently, he took it into his mouth with your hand on the back of his head.
“Good boy, Maki.” You whispered, threading all your fingers through his hair as you thrust into his mouth. Holding his head in place, you thrust your hips into his mouth, feeling a sliver of pleasure run up your spine at the sound of his choked whimpers. Using both hands, you pushed his head flush against your crotch and held him there, chuckling as he shook beneath you and choked deeply.
After a few moments, you let him up for air and smiled at his reddened face.
“I think mommy’s cock is wet enough for your tight little hole now. On your back, boy.”
What an obedient bunny you had. Scrambling, Tamaki pushed a pillow up under his hips and grasped your hand in his once more.
“Ready, little boy?”
“Y-Yes, mommy.”
With his approval, you began to sink the slick strap into him, watching as his mouth opened wide into an O-shape and screwed shut eyes.
“How’s that feel, sweetpea?”
About half way in with the dildo, you paused briefly to let him catch his breath.
“‘S good, mommy! So good!” He gasped.
“Breathe for me, okay? Breathe nice and deep for mommy.”
Continuing on, you stroked his cock while pushing into the hilt, shushing him gently as he practically screamed in pleasure.
“O-oh mommy! Mommy, mommy, mommy!”
The poor boy was babbling incoherently, sobbing in pleasure as he ground your hips up into his prostate. Howling, Tamaki gripped both your forearms that held his waist in place. Your pace was agonizingly slow, wanting him to beg for you to fuck him like an animal.
“Feeling good?”
Tamaki whined at your words, pushing his hips flush against yours and bouncing slightly. He nodded and whispered. “I-I need more, mommy! Please, I can't take it!”
“Hush now, I’m giving you all the I have.”
Smirking, you slowed your pace down and held his hips firmly in place.
“L-Let me ride you then. Can I, mommy? Can I please. I-I need to!”
“I don't know if I should let you.” Sighing dramatically, you stopped your hips altogether. “You’ve been so naughty tonight, swearing at me and rushing me.”
Tamaki whined loudly and thrashed in your grip.
“I-I’ll be good, mommy! I promise I promise, I promise. Please just fuck me stupid!” He sobbed, bucking his hips up into yours.
“Fine, I suppose I can punish you later.”
With that, you started a rough pace into him and flipped him onto his stomach. One hand on his cock and the other pushing his lower back down to get a perfect arch on your strap.
The sound of Tamaki’s cries and skin slapping against skin filled the room. You were doing your best to give him the rough pounding he deserved, slapping his ass a few times for good measure.
Tamaki, on the other hand, was face down in the pillow, drooling as he gripped the sheets tightly. Your hand wrung itself through his locks and yanked his head upward, earning a cry of pleasure from him as you continued to slam into him.
“Mommy! M-Mommy! ‘M gonna cum again!”
“Do it. Cum for me, boy.”
Your hand fisted his cock hard and fast, synching up with your thrusts. With his tongue lolled out, Tamaki came hard with a loud moan, shaking beneath your hands as he rode out his orgasm on your strap.
After coming down, the two of you huffed and shared the comfortable silence of the room as your hand stroked his back gently.
“Such a good boy for me, Maki.”
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honeesucker · 4 years
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Akaashi Keiji x F!Reader
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Akaashi Keiji as part of my Haikyuu Boys reacting to your hand on their thigh…
Word Count: 2,165
Warnings: None worth mentioning, just smutty and cute.
“Keiji~” you gave a plaintive whine and huffed, arms crossed as you plunked down on the soft leather of the sectional in Akaashi’s main office space shared with the other editors; he had just walked out of his personal office to grab more coffee when he saw you walking in, dressed up and looking as breathtaking as ever - he never got tired of seeing you, or telling you how lovely you were to him. You; however, had thought to surprise him by setting up a reservation at one of his favorite restaurants that was more out of the way of your guys’ apartment, but he had been working so hard and you missed him so much and wanted to do something nice for him until all fell through, like always.
“I’m sorry my love,” Akaashi’s voice was soft, a tinge of sadness for having to reject your plans again for a deadline on an important project but he would make it up to you, he always did. It didn’t stop you from being disappointed in the moment, or him feeling bad because he knew that the pain of rejection stung you each time.
You noticed the change in his demeanor and how he was pulling and fidgeting with his long fingers. You stood up and crossed the short distance before wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into him.
“No big deal, ‘Kaashi,” you placed a soft kiss on his jawline, “I really should’ve asked instead of assuming you were free tonight. I know your work is important to you.” Akaashi cupped your cheek and placed an equally soft kiss on your lips, you smiled against him which caused him to laugh.
“Mind if I keep you company ‘til you’re done with work for tonight?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes and he just shook his head and asked if you wanted any coffee. You walked ahead of him to his office and noticed he wasn’t set up at his desk, but on the couch against the furthest wall, laptop and mock-up pages to review all over the coffee table. You sat down and he followed shortly behind you, taking a long sip of coffee before leaning over his work and getting back to concentrating. You leant into his side in a way that kept you close to him but didn’t inhibit his arm movements so he could work freely and comfortably; you pulled out your phone and began typing away but Akaashi wasn’t able to see your screen, though curiosity almost got the better of him a couple of times almost making him lean over to peek (though he knew it he asked you’d have no problem handing it over without a second thought - he appreciated that trust you both have in each other).
Akaashi was deep into his work when he felt a sharp sensation shoot through his thigh, to his stomach and straight to his cock, already half-hard against his dress slacks. You had placed your hand on his thigh (fairly high up, and close enough to almost be palming him through his slacks, he might add) and was stroking lazy lines with your thumb mindlessly, still finishing something up in your phone, not even noticing that Akaashi’s full attention was now on you, on your small hand. He swallowed harshly, trying to push down the surge of urges coursing through his body now, not realizing it had been so long since you and him have had any time to be together lately that such a small, innocent touch would trigger an instant hard-on. He glanced at you from the side, not turning his head much away from his laptop. You were snuggled up against him, the office slippers you had put on were on the floor and your legs were pulled up into the couch, you were still fixated and typing away on your phone, still thumbing little motions on Akaashi’s thigh, in such a flattering skirt and cardigan it was almost impossible for him not to pounce on you like a Lion to an antelope.
He shifted in his seat, causing you to fall against him a bit further and giggled as he placed delicate kisses along the length of your arm, long your shoulder, up your neck and across your jaw, a sweet one on the tip of your nose, before locking onto your lips with a deep growl in his chest. He pulled you into his lap, your legs on either side of his as you straddled him, and broke the kiss to breath, which caused Akaashi to pepper more kisses and gentle bites along you neck.
“Ah-Akaashi-“ you whimpered when he bit down a bit harder, sucking the skin enough that it’ll leave a purple mark. “Keiji don’t you have work to get done?” You said, unconvincing that you didn’t want him to continue.
“Mm, yes baby, I’m doing my work,” Akaashi mumbled against your skin, ghosting his nose along your neck before breathing in the scent of your perfume and clean hair. “My work as a good boyfriend, you know I’ve been slacking a bit lately,” he captured your lips back into a passionate kiss and you melted into his touch. Allowing his slender fingers to undo the buttons of your soft cardigan until nothing but the lacy emerald green bralette remains. You can hear a muffled groan that he’s trying to hold back as he reaches up and cups each of your breasts, molding the supple flesh with his slender fingers and giving a quick chuckle when you yelp as he pinches each rosy bud between his pointer and thumb through the lace fabric. Between the friction of his fingers on your nipples and the way he occasionally lifted his hips up to grind the hard cock straining against his slacks against your own clothed core was driving you insane. You let out a breathy moan and he just tilted his head and gave you a cheeky smile - one you didn’t see often and cherished.
“Awe,” Akaashi drew out, “is my baby horny for my cock? Hmm?” You only nodded and grinded back down against his lap and he laughed again. His hands found purchase on the soft sides of your hips and held you down against him as he rocked his hips up, teasing you further.
“Mmfph, ‘Kaashi please!” You whined and Akaashi just halted all movement, causing you to let out such an annoyed sound that he found so cute.
“Please what baby?” Akaashi hummed, “use your words.”
“Please n-need to feel you, need you inside me!” Your adrenaline and need for him was the only thing controlling your thoughts and actions right now, Akaashi was all you saw in the moment.
“Oh my poor baby,” Akaashi cooed gently, stroking your cheek with one hand and sliding his other beneath your skirt until the pads of his pointer and middle finger were pressing against your clit through the thin lace of your matching panties. “Is this what you wanted, hm? Already soaked through your panties like the needy little slut I knew you always were,” his tone of voice was so gentle but the dirty words he used only spurred you on.
“N-!” You were gonna tell him you needed so much more than what he was giving you but in the second you were distracted Akaashi has slipped your panties to the side and plunged two long fingers into your silky cunt, curling the digits to press against that spongy spot that had you seeing stars, his thumb was rubbing fast pressured circles on your clit that had you moaning and clinging onto him for dear life.
You were so close, so, so close.
“Ah! NO!” You hit his chest when Akaashi stopped all ministrations and his fingers stilled inside of you, he enjoyed how your gummy walls were clenching around him, sucking him in and it was almost impossible for him to resist giving you exactly what you were selfishly trying to take.
“Tsk tsk,” Akaashi scolded playfully, scissoring his fingers inside of you, causing you to groan at the pleasant stretch. “I thought you knew better my little Sakura blossom,” his fingers curled and his thumb found that sweet spot of perfect pressure on your clit again that had you moaning and squirming in his lap, your nails were digging into his shoulders through his dress shirt and he so enjoyed watching you come undone, “knew that you had to get permission to cum on my fingers first, like a good girl - you are my good girl aren’t you?” Akaashi knew he had won the moment you still your frantic grinding down on his hand to look at him with teary eyes, your cheeks flushed pink and hair sticking to your forehead from the small build up of sweat. Akaashi’s dick flexed when you have a hard swallow and nodded, he knew no matter what you were always his good girl, but seeing you pull back and do your best for him just filled him with such pride and love for you.
“I’m’a good girl p-pl-ah~please Keiji let me cum, please let me cum for you,” your begging turned incoherent and Akaashi felt bad for maybe pushing you a little past your limit. He added a third finger and got back to work hitting exactly where he knew would have you cunning in seconds and he was right. Your moans grew louder and soon he could feel your walls clenching around him again but this time he didn’t stop.
“C’mon baby, cum for me. Be my good girl and cum for me, you can do it,” and like a switch flipped in your head you were spasming and gushing on Akaashi’s fingers, his fingers still curling and his thumb still working your clit slowly as he helped you through your orgasms, prolonging it a little until your whines of it being ‘too much’ came through. He pulled from your body slowly, reveling in how your pussy seemed to want to keep him inside of you, and watched your heavy-lidded eyes glass over when he brought his fingers up to his mouth and cleaned himself, the groan he let out going straight to your clit and shocking awake a renewed craving for your love.
There was a buzz throughout the office that shocked you both, until reality hit and you whined, straightening your skirt and re-buttoning your cardigan to run down to the lobby and grab the door. Your legs were wobbly from sitting in that position for so long and Akaashi helped you balance. You looked down to see his cock straining against the zipper of his slacks, painfully harder than you’ve ever seen it before.
“Who’s here?” Akaashi questioned, and you just gave a smile.
“I paid ‘Tsumu to come and deliver some onigiri from Onigiri Miya,” Akaashi’s eyes widened and as if on cue his stomach growled, “I also had him stop at another place on the way to get you a side of nanohana no karashiae for you since I know it’s your favorite and we haven’t had it in a whil-!” You giggled and screamed as Akaashi pulled you into a tight hug, kissing your cheek and smiling. “I figured since we couldn’t go out, I could bring something to you - I know you haven’t eaten at all today Keiji...” he flashed a sheepish grin at that and just nodded.
“You’re right, and I love you - for getting food and just being you,” the buzzer rang throughout the office again and you ran to grab the food from Atsumu before running back to Akaashi’s office. Akaashi was on the couch with his slacks undone and down to his ankles, his cock was as hard as you’ve ever seen it and a bead of pre-cum was leaking out of the slit, and dripping down the front. You licked your lips out of habit and set the food down on his desk before turning back to him. He had his head leant back on the couch and his arms crossed behind his head. He was eyeing you hungrily as you walked over and reached down as you straddled his body like before. You lined him up and sank down on the thick length, your intense orgasm still leaving you sensitive from earlier.
Once you were fully seated on Akaashi’s cock he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to lean forward on him as he began to thrust like a man possessed, your cries and his moans the only sounds aside from slapping skin filling the office. This went on for an hour longer before the hunger got the better of both of you, and exhausted and starving you both slunk to the ground half-dressed and ate the thankfully still warm food.
Akaashi kept taking side glances at you, thankful to have someone so perfectly suited for him in all the ways you were.
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mxdnightlvers · 3 years
Text
Late Nights- A Komahina Smut Oneshot
A/N: I'm not really active here but I thought I should at least post this.
The moon was at its highest, accompanied by a starry night. Hajime was working at his small desk in the corner of his shared room. The sound of paper and typing occasionally filling the silent room. Nagito was asleep but Hajime could not share the same peaceful position as him. He was busy all day and he ended up working late into the night, and even though Nagito protested and tried to get him to rest, Hajime was set on finishing his work tonight. Tiredness pulled at his mind in a battle between work and sleep, sleep becoming victorious as his head rested against the smooth desk surface. He allowed his mind to wander for a few seconds before he realized he was drifting off to sleep. He jolted awake, his hands rubbing his eyes in an attempt to refocus on his screen. The words became an incoherent mess on his screen and he was too tired to continue working.
The blue light was not easy on his eyes and the effects of his cup of coffee had worn off. He wasn't the type to be worn out like this but he wanted to finish any work he had, so he can rest as much as he wanted after. He let out another long sigh and rested his elbows on the desk and buried his eyes into his palms.
"Hinata-Kun?" A soft but recognizable voice called out to him.
Hajime raised his head and turned around, looking into the darkness of their room.
"Ah, did I wake you Nagito?" Hajime replied hoarsely, his exhaustion audible.
"No its fine Hinata-kun."
Nagito replied and the room fell silent. Hajime could barely see in the darkness but he could tell that Nagito was looking at him. His eyes adjusted and he could see Nagito's silhouette. He was sitting up, the blanket still covering his torso. His messy white hair was slightly visible. Hajime wanted to leave all his work behind and crawl into his boyfriend's arms and fall asleep but he was prevented from doing that. Hajime hadn't even realized that he's been staring at Nagito without saying anything.
"Hinata-Kun you've been staring at me for a while, are you okay?" Nagito spoke up, finally breaking the silence.
"Ah...I'm sorry I spaced out for a bit."
Hajime smiled and turned back around and continued to work. Nagito hadn't responded so Hajime thought that everything was fine. In truth, Nagito was simply worried for Hajime. Nagito could hear the exhaustion in his voice. When Hajime faced him, he could see his tired expression illuminated from the computer screen behind. Nagito was frustrated. He had suggested Hajime rest multiple times but he refused every time. Hajime had only gotten Nagito to step down after promising that he would not overdo it and Nagito trusted him. However, after seeing Hajime's state he knew that he had broken their promise. Nagito was trying to prevent this from happening and Hajime refused to listen to him.
"Hinata-Kun," Nagito called out.
"Yes? And we're alone, you can use my first name."
"Hajime...you promised you'd rest," Nagito replied sounding slightly annoyed.
Hajime sighed and turned around, "Look Nagito-," he paused, softening his tone, "I'm almost done, there are only a few more emails to sort out and I'll be free okay?"
Hajime would be lying if he said he sincerely made that promise earlier. He meant his promise and he really was close to finishing, but he mainly said it to make Nagito stop pestering him. Nagito had picked up on his frustrated mood and decided to leave him alone but he couldn't help and be worried for Hajime. After all, how could he not be worried? Hajime had accepted Nagito for all his flaws and imperfections even after everything they've been through. Someone as talented and hopeful as Hajime had chosen trash like him over everyone else. Maybe this was all Nagito's luck but he truly did care for Hajime.
The silence in the room broke with a small robotic noise coming from Nagito's hand and a quiet, "fine" from him. Content with his response, Hajime turned back around and resumed typing. Part of his fatigue faded away knowing that Nagito had let him finish up. With new determination, Hajime's focus on his work increased and he continued to type away. He was so focused, he did not even sense that Nagito had been standing behind him. He felt a pair of arms wrap around him and white fluffy hair tickling his skin as Nagito laid his chin in his neck. Hajime flinched but leaned back into his embrace, eyes still fixated on his screen.
"If I can't get you to rest, can I help you finish up at least?" Nagito whined, his voice sounding slightly needy.
Hajime did not mind at all, instead, he was relieved that he could finally feel the warmth of his lover. The back of his chair prevented them from being closer but it was enough for him to feel satisfied. He wrapped his left hand in Nagito's hair and his right hand took over typing. However, this moment was cut short when Hajime replied to Nagito's question.
"You're not gonna give up are you?" Hajime chuckled, amused but relieved at Nagito's persistence.
Nagito buried his head further into Hajime's neck, trying to hide his embarrassment even though his face wasn't visible to Hajime. He nodded with his eyes squeezed shut and Hajime unwrapped his hand from Nagito's hair.
"Then, can you get me a glass of water please?"
Hajime was quiet but Nagito heard him clearly. He pulled away and Hajime found himself regretting his decision at the loss of his touch. Hajime heard Nagito's footsteps fade out of their room and he resumed typing away. He hit send on the final email and that instantly brought his mood back up. He let out a long sigh, all his hard work finally coming to an end with a wave of relief and accomplishment. He smiled and leaned back into his chair. stretching out his hands. Hajime could only describe this feeling as if all his stress were being drained away, healing his body in the process. Hajime stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before readjusting his position and moving some papers onto his lap. All that was left to do was to sort these final documents into their piles and he'd be finished. The door creaked open and Nagito entered the room with a glass of water in his hand. Hajime spun his chair around, greeting Nagito with a smile, and held out his hand to hold the glass of water.
Only for Nagito to trip and spill the ice-cold water on Hajime's lap. If there were any trace of tiredness left in Hajime, it quickly disappeared as the feeling of cold water leaking through his pants shocked him awake. Hajime squeezed his thighs together and he shook any ice cubes off to ease the uncomfortable feeling. He moved the papers off his lap but that was quickly replaced with Nagito hands frantically trying to fix things.
"Ah, Hinata-Kun I'm so sorry! I'm so clumsy I'll dry you immediately!" Nagito panicked, dropping to his knees and, brushing a nearby napkin over Hajime's sweatpants.
Hajime didn't know which to be more worried about; his boyfriend panicking beneath him or the fact that Nagito hadn't realized where he was touching Hajime. In an attempt to stop Nagito's movements, Hajime placed his hands firmly on Nagito's shoulders. Nagito's hands paused abruptly and his head shot up, everything happening in a blur. Nagito was on his knees directly looking up at Hajime. His expression was taut, eyebrows raised, and his mouth slightly apart. And even though Hajime tried to stop Nagito's hands, his hands were stalled on Hajime's pants. The world seemed to pause for Hajime. With the expression of the boy below him, the placement of his hands, that kneeling position he was in, Hajime couldn't help but think lewd thoughts.
"God, Nagito why'd you have to be so..."
He temporarily broke eye contact to hide his red cheeks. He was supposed to be calming Nagito, and yet, Hajime was the flustered one. He felt a familiar tension in his pants and it became difficult to ignore by the second. Only a few seconds had passed but it felt like he was trying to hide his arousal for minutes. Hajime, suddenly aware of his actions, snapped his head back to stare at Nagito. He refocused his mind to the present, to calm Nagito, and to prevent the tent in his pants from growing. Hajime looked at him with an expression that was stern instead of annoyed, not daring to make his boyfriend feel like he made him mad.
"Hinata-Kun I'm-"
"It's fine Nagito." Hajime quickly cut off Nagito, trying to prevent him from blaming himself.
Hajime smiled softly at him as if he were saying a silent, "don't worry, it's not your fault." Nagito opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but he closed his mouth and nodded instead.
"Hey..." Hajime mumbled, placing his hand on top of Nagito's own with new intentions.
"I'm basically finished with work so I'll rest now okay? I just need to change out of these clothes, since...." Hajime remarked, pointing to the stain on his pants.
"Ah," Nagito breathed out in relief, "Of course Hinata-Kun."
Nagito had begun to pull away from Hajime, but he tightened his grip and pulled him back down to his knees. Hajime moved their hands to their previous position as he had hoped that his intentions would catch on.
"H-Hinata-Kun?" Nagito replied, flustered and shocked.
"I didn't say to get up did I?"
"But-" Nagtio was once again cut off when Hajime directly moved his hand on top of his boxers.
Hajime breathed out, as he finally received the touch he so longed for. Nagito just watched in shock and curiosity. He let Hajime guide his hand as Hajime started to rub himself through his pants. It wasn't long before they were both hard, letting themselves go in the moment. Nagito started moving his hands in rhythm with Hajime, edging him to move his hands faster. Nagito was dazed, entranced by the movements of their hands. He couldn't look away, he didn't want to. He didn't want it to stop either. He was always lucky in the moments he could please Hajime. The brunette found amusement in Nagito's expression, gaining a weird sense of euphoria from the way he can please Nagito without doing much.
"Hah...I'm warming right up arent I?" Hajime breathed out as he no longer felt the uncomfortable cold on his thighs.
Nagito hummed beneath him, too dazed to properly reply. Nagito's hands started speeding up, eager to please his boyfriend more. Hajime started to lose control of his actions as his mind began to feel dizzy at the pleasure. The brunette's hands slowed down and the boy between his legs started to feel more confident. Nagito's free hand moved to caress the inside of Hajime's thigh, slowly inching up to his waistband. Hajime let Nagito take over, his hand now lazily resting on Nagito's. Both of the boys quickly became impatient, the need for skin-on-skin contact growing by the second. Nagito gave in and pulled Hajime's waistband down, the other boy wiggling his way out of his pants. They wasted no time and pulled his boxers down allowing Hajime's dick to spring free.
Nagito wrapped his hand around Hajime, slowly stroking him. He let out a low groan as if he was the one being pleasured. He dragged his index finger over the tip of his cock, spreading precum up and down. He leaned closer, flicking his tongue against the tip. Intoxicated by Hajime's taste, he moved his tongue in a circular motion, wanting to taste more. He pulled away, a string of saliva and precum connecting him to Hajime's cock. He took a moment to look up at Hajime, who was completely lost in the pleasure. His head was tilted back, eyes squeezed shut and cheeks tinted such a bright color of red. Hajime's mouth was slightly parted and he was breathing heavily with beads of sweat running down his face. Nagito had seen him in many ways, but the way he looked in this moment was the most amusing. The former Ultimate Hope was above him, but yet Nagito was in control, making him a mess.
"I've barely even touched you Hinata-Kun...and look at you, already a mess for someone like me," Nagito whispered, lazily jerking Hajime off.
"Hah...you're a mess too Nagito." He breathed out, opening his eyes.
"Maybe but," Nagito paused to lick up his cock, "You're more of a mess than me."
Hajime did not even have time to reply when Nagito reached into the empty cup and pulled out an ice cube. He jolted up when he felt the ice against the tip of his cock.
"A-Ah! Nagito what are you doing?"
Nagito only hummed in response, continuing to slowly drag the ice up and down his cock. He ignored Hajime's question as he writhed in pain and pleasure. Hajime was propped up on his hands, looking down at Nagito, not sure if his moans were from the pain or pleasure. Nagito kept slowly dragging the ice up and down with a sly grin, that showed anything but good intentions. Hajime may have seen it as Nagito teasing him but, he was actually testing to see how Hajime would react to the ice. He looked up at Hajime, mischief plastered over his face- the shy, insecure boy he was moments ago, completely disappearing.
"What does it look like I'm doing Hajime?" Nagito finally replied in such a velvety tone, saying Hajime's name in such a lustful manner that he left the ultimate hope speechless.
There was no need to say anything more and Nagito resumed his actions. He dragged the ice over the tip once more before placing it back into the cup. Hajime watched in anticipation as Nagito wrapped his lips around his cock. The warmth of his mouth instantly soothing the painful cold. He traced his tongue up and down the trails of water left by the ice cube. He then took Hajime in his mouth, slowly moving up and down his cock at first. Hajime wrapped his hands in his hair, trying his best not to force Nagito further down. Nagito looked up at him as he went deeper, his cock hitting the back of his throat. Hajime stopped trying to hold his moans back, not caring anymore. Nagito lifted his head and went back down on his cock, or so Hajime had hoped. The other boy pulled away from Hajime and reached into the cup once again. Hajime immediately realized what Nagito was planning to do, but his thoughts cut off when he felt the ice cube against his dick again. The ice burned sweetly against his cock and he was a whimpering mess.
"Hehe, what cute noises you're making Hajime." Nagito teased the submissive Hajime above him.
"Shut up Nagito and just-"
"Hm? Just what Hajime?" Nagito asked before a playful idea popped into his head.
"You have to tell me what you want or else how would I know?"
Nagito was a person you needed to be direct with but this was different. He was purposely avoiding Hajime's needs. Hajime wanted to keep some of his dignity, but Nagito wasn't going to budge if he didn't hear what he wanted to.
"Fuck you Nagito, you never change," Hajime said to himself, before obeying Nagito's order.
"J-Just suck my dick already," Hajime replied in one breath, squeezing his eyes shut as if he wasn't trying to hear himself.
"Ah! The former ultimate hope begging for my filthy tongue around him!" Nagito remarked as if he was the one being touched.
This would be a strange sight for anyone else. Someone like Hajime was melting in his chair. Nagito was holding a melting ice cube on his dick while he somehow praised and degraded himself at the same time. However, Hajime couldn't care less. The ice became painful and his position in his chair was not easy on his back. He was not going to let Nagito get sidetracked after losing his dignity like that.
"Arent you supposed to be doing something?" Hajime looked sternly down on Nagito as he made sure to get his point across.
Nagito paused and smiled at him before placing the ice cube in the cup. He leaned into Hajime's cock once more and pressed his lips against his shaft. He licked up his cock, a trail of saliva and water being left behind. He flicked his tongue against the tip before taking in Hajime's cock once more. He wasted no time and started bobbing his head up and down. His hair fell in front of his face, blocking Hajime from viewing him properly. He tied his hands in his hair, moving his bangs out of his face to see his boyfriend go all the way down on his cock. Nagito looked up at him, eyes watery and clouded with lust. He moved up to swirl his tongue around the tip and moved his hand to stroke his shaft.
However, his hand was still cold from holding the ice. Hajime let out a shocked moan in response as Nagito continued his actions. He dragged his tongue up and down while his hand massaged the places his tongue couldn't reach, all while keeping eye contact. The stimulation of hot and cold was quickly bringing Hajime to his climax. His cold hand running up and down his cock. His warm tongue over his tip and shaft. His needy boyfriend looking up at him so lustfully. Hajime was already close to his orgasm. He was a breathy, moaning mess, both of his hands now forcefully holding Nagito's hair in a ponytail. Nagito was palming himself through his boxers while he worked his tongue and hands faster to bring Hajime to his orgasm. It only took a few more flicks of Nagito's tongue before Hajime was forcing his head further onto his cock as he came. Hajime's hips twitched and jerked as Nagito tried to swallow all of his seed, some spilling anyways. Nagito pulled away from Hajime as soon as his grip loosened on his head. He looked up at Hajime who eyes were shut, still panting from his orgasm. Eventually, he came to his senses and looked down at a messy Nagito. His eyes were heavy with desire, his hair even messier than it normally was, and cum dripped down the corner of his lips. The sight was enough to bring Hajime to a full erection again.
Hajime opened his mouth to say something but he was still trying to steady his breathing. He bent down to place his palm on Nagito's cheek. He wiped the cum off Nagito with his thumb. His thumb lingered on his lips, cleaning feeling like a secondary concern. Nagito turned his head slightly to suck Hajime's thumb in, licking the cum off. The brunette froze for a second which allowed Nagito to push past his hand and sit on his lap.
"Ah- Nagito wait a sec," Hajime stuttered but Nagito didn't listen.
He tried to speak up again but his words turned into a moan when he felt Nagito's teeth against his neck. He felt slender hands grip his hair, pulling his head back to give Nagito better access to his neck. Nagito started rocking his hips back and forth while sloppily marking Hajime. Nagito was dominating Hajime and he was having a hard time protesting. Luckily, as more time passed, Nagito was slowly losing his dominance to pleasure. Instead of hungrily biting at Hajime's neck, he was now quietly whining. Hajime felt Nagito's hand loosen and took that opportunity. He gripped the other boy's hair and forcefully pulled him away from his body. Hajime thought that he was probably a little too rough but Nagito's expression said otherwise.
"H-Hinata-Kun?" Nagito yelped but he quickly realized his intentions, "I'm sorry I-"
"Be quiet."
Nagito froze in place. It was as if those two words sent Nagito into a deep subspace. He looked at Hajime with wide eyes of anticipation and obedience. Hajime smiled at himself, proud that he had control now, and that his shaky attempt worked. He regained his composure as the dominant and sat up straight. He loosened his grip on Nagito's hair, still holding him in place, but enough to make Nagito relax a bit. He pulled Nagito down for a kiss as his other hand slowly started guiding his hips back and forth. He wasted no time in picking up the pace, making Nagito rock back and forth at a comfortable speed.
Nagito ran his hands all over Hajime's chest, just wanting- no, needing to feel more of him. They pulled away for a second to take Hajime's shirt off but were instantly back in their previous position. In Hajime's eyes, Nagito was so adorable. He was grinding helplessly against him, face red and the cutest of whines. Hajime pulled away from the kiss to touch Nagito through his pants. He reached inside his boxers and pulled out his dick that was leaking with precum.
"A-Ah! Hinata-Kun!" Nagito whined as Hajime pressed his finger against the tip of his cock.
"Who's a mess for who now?" Hajime teased, leaning into Nagito.
Nagito just shook his head in response and Hajime shuffled his pants off him. He started jerking him off, somehow making Nagito even more flustered. Nagito fully melted into Hajime's touch and buried his head in his neck. He softly bit onto Hajime's shoulder, careful to not hurt him. Hajime bent his head down slightly to see his hands move swiftly along the other boy's cock. The two boys were quickly growing impatient. Not to mention, Nagito was still slowly grinding against Hajime. As much as Hajime loved to see Nagito like this, he pulled his hand away. Nagito whimpered at the loss of his touch but soon felt hands around his waist, picking him up. Hajime walked towards their bed and placed Nagito down.
Nagito said nothing and let Hajime be in control. Hajime positioned himself on top, brushing some of the hair out of Nagito face. His hand then fell to his shirt, tracing over the buttons before undoing them. He rubbed his hands over Nagito's bare chest before leaning down to place small kisses all over. He marked the delicate boy in every place his lips touched. Nagito's hands moved to play with Hajime's nipples, trying to pleasure him as well. Hajime continued his actions, biting and kissing him. He was taking his sweet time with Nagito, despite being impatient a few moments ago. He was appreciating his boyfriend through his actions- through his kisses. Nagito didn't mind at all. He loved receiving affection like this from Hajime, especially since he needed reassurance like this from time to time. However, this moment didn't last forever, as their dicks were still hard and they were still horny as ever.
"Hinata-Kun..," Nagito whispered and Hajime pulled away.
He looked at Hajime with pleading eyes and a small frown. Hajime had caught on and would've gladly given into his pleas but, he looked like he had more to say.
"What's wrong Nagito?" Hajime asked in an attempt to edge Nagito along.
The other boy paused for a second, before speaking up, "I...need you."
"....Inside me," He whined, turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut.
Hajime paused for a second. Taken aback by Nagito's state.
"Fuck. Okay."
Hajime closed his jaw that had opened unknowingly before he immediately pulled away. As if he was possessed by lust, he reached into the nightstand and was back above Nagito. He had a bottle of lube and applied a generous amount on his hand. He pushed his finger in, feeling Nagito stretch around him. He slipped in another finger with ease, the heat, and moans of Nagito spurring him on to move his fingers faster. As Hajime thought he had prepared Nagito enough and was about to pull away, Nagito impatiently spoke up.
"Hinata-Kun...," Nagito whimpered, almost sounding like a sob, "Please..."
Hajime chuckled and pulled out his fingers, "Desperate arent you?"
"Maybe I should tease you a little more hm?" Hajime taunted despite wanting to slam into Nagito this instant.
Nagito shook his head rapidly as he wanted Hajime inside him right now.
"Haha alright alright," Hajime complied as he spread Nagito legs apart.
He positioned himself, looking down at Nagito who eagerly waited. Hajime started to slowly push himself in only to be met with more pleas from Nagito. He was almost surprised at how impatient he was. Amused, he lifted Nagito's legs and slammed into him, almost as if Hajime was rewarding him. Nagito screamed out, making Hajime worried that he had hurt him. He looked down to make sure he wasn't in any pain only to be met with a Komaeda that was lost in pleasure. He was looking at Hajime through his bangs, cheeks red, and eyes that just begged Hajime to keep going.
Reassured, Hajime started moving in and out, gradually picking up the pace. With the feeling of Nagito's warmth around him, the tightness that sucked his cock in, the lewd noises from both of them, Hajime was already dizzy with pleasure. Nagito hands wrapped around his neck and pulled him down. He kissed Nagito, muffling both of their moans. He slipped his tongue past, sloppily kissing each other. Nagito hands found their way to his hair, keeping Hajime's head in place. He only let Hajime pull away for air, before pulling him back into the kiss. Nagito let one of his hands fall and grabbed Hajime's own. Nagito guided their hands down his body before reaching his cock. Hajime let the needy boy guide his hands, finding him amusing. Nagito started jerking himself off but quickly lost the energy to do so, letting Hajime take over. He let Hajime pull away from the kiss and let him focus on their hands. His hand started moving at the same pace, overstimulating the boy beneath him. Nagito raked his free hand up and down Hajime's back, his name being the only words Nagito knew to say.
"Hah...fuck you're such a mess Nagito," Hajime spoke up, slowing down a little bit.
It was quiet, almost silent, but Nagito chuckled softly through his moans, "Only for you Hinata-Kun."
He pulled Hajime back down for a short kiss. They kept eye contact for a second before Hajime smiled and pulled away, "Guess I'm the lucky one now huh."
"Shut up," Nagito whined and turned away.
Hajime smiled and picked back up his previous pace. He lifted Nagito closer, causing his cock to go deeper. The tip of his cock brushed against Nagito's prostate causing his back to arch off the bed.
"There! Hinata-Kun!" Nagito cried out, begging for Hajime to reach that spot again.
The brunette listened to his pleas and angled himself so that he was now repeatedly thrusting into his prostate. Nagito let out a string of "yes" before his words slurred together, losing himself to Hajime's thrusts. Nagito's nails dug into his shoulder and Hajime was sure that it had left a mark. Hajime's dizzy mind caused him to bury his head in Nagito's neck, biting lightly.
"H-Hinata-Kun...your hand," Nagito managed to stutter out and Hajime pulled away.
Nagito pulled his hand away from his dick and held Hajime's hand. Hajime bent back down, moving their hands above Nagito's head. He started moving again, holding tightly onto Nagito. As much as he hated to admit it, Hajime was close. He wanted to bring Nagito to his high first so he slowed down, edging himself so he doesn't cum yet. Thankfully for him, Nagito was also close. It only took a few more thrusts for Nagito to reach his orgasm, letting out a shriek as his back arched off the bed. His walls clenched around Hajime which was enough for him to also reach his high, thrusting a few more before emptying himself inside Nagito. Regaining his senses, he pulled out of Nagito, a small whine of disapproval escaping from him. Both of them were breathing heavily, still feeling the rush of their orgasm. Hajime looked down at Nagito who was not quite connected with reality yet. They were both a mess, Nagito being worse with cum splattered on his chest, bite marks on his skin, and tears staining his face. They were still holding hands except Nagito's grip had loosened. Nagito was the first to speak up despite still trying to steady his breathing.
"Did I...make you...feel better?" He asked in a tone that was mixed with 'just came' and 'self-loathing'.
It only took Hajime a second to realize that he was referring to his work earlier.
"Hah...yeah you did," he praised and planted a kiss on Nagito's forehead," You did amazing Nagito."
Hajime rested his palm on Nagito's cheek and he nuzzled into his touch. He moved his hand up to brush the hair out of Nagito's face, whose eyes were closed, simply enjoying Hajime's presence. Nagito looked so peaceful. He had a soft smile and he looked genuinely happy at that moment. He was happy to be with Hajime, happy to have someone who cared for him, happy to be loved for once. Hajime poked Nagito's cheek lightly, making him open his eyes.
"Oi don't go falling asleep we have to get you cleaned."
Nagito eyes widened before letting out a disappointing sigh Hajime knew too well, "You never change huh? You're still annoying as ever."
"Haha, that's why you love me though." Hajime jeered causing Nagito to roll his eyes.
Hajime tried to pull away when Nagito hands snaked around his neck and pulled him back down. Hajime's face fell into Nagito's chest, letting out a shocked noise. Nagito rolled them over so that they were now both laying on their sides.
"Nagito?" Hajime asked muffled against his chest.
"Let's stay like this for a while," Nagito replied quietly, almost as if he felt guilty for asking this.
Hajime positioned himself so that Nagito was buried in his chest, "We can stay like this for as long as you want."
Hajime couldn't see, but he knew Nagito had smiled. He pulled him closer, one hand wrapped in Nagito's hair, lightly scratching his scalp. The AC had cooled them off a bit and it left a peaceful atmosphere. Hajime pressed his lips against Nagito's forehead as if trying to convey all the words he left unsaid. They did exactly as Nagito requested, enjoying each other's company before eventually having to clean up the mess they made.
101 notes · View notes
latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years
Text
𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 (𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔×𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟) 𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑
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𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐾𝑖𝑚 𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)/ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)
𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡
♡♡ 𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚, 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓𝑦 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 @seacottons ♡♡
♡・゚:*。.:*・゚♡・゚:*。.:*・゚♡・゚:*。.:*・゚♡・゚:*。.:*・゚♡
Hongjoong tapped his pencil on the notepad impatiently, sighing for the 7th time in the minute that passed. He looked at the clock, signaling that it was almost 10:30.
Maybe I shouldn't have asked her to come. It's already late.
He had a tendency to forget that unlike him, most individuals don't like to stay up at odd hours of the night, especially not to work. But he always worked better and got inspired more during the nights. Something about the dark blue sky, crystal glittering stars and even the bustling sounds of the city awakened his senses, enticing him to start writing lyrics down, or play a few melodies on his piano. Of course, sometimes he had the usual composer's block, struggling to come up with the right music or words. Or he ended up feeling lonely and in need of comfort.
That's where Y/N came in. He'd always call her up and asked her if she wouldn't mind keeping him company, a pout always on his lips, almost like a child expecting to be refused. But she'd always be there for him, and he truly appreciated it. And tonight, he was particularly antsy about seeing her. He was getting anxious as more and more time passed and she was nowhere to be seen. Not even a text saying where she was exactly at the moment.
He was about to pick up his phone again to check up on her, when the rattling of the doorknob let him know someone was outside. He had obviously locked the door, never liking to be disturbed by anyone, so he wasn't surprised to hear the person on the other side knock. He got up and opened the door.
"Hi! I'm here!"
A dripping Y/N scurried inside the studio room, getting as close as she could to the heater that was next to the couch. Hongjoong stared in shock as a tiny wet trail was left on the carpet.
"Baby, did you walk here?" He asked, his voice full of concern.
"Well yeah....." She fidgeted with the sleeves of her sweater. "I didn't know it was going to rain and the weather didn't seem too cold, but then tiny sprinkles turned to a heavy downpour.....
But I'm here now!" She said that last part more enthusiastically, trying to ease his mind a little.
But now he felt even more bad than before. She could easily have gotten sick and it would have been his fault.
"You could have just taken a cab back home love."
Y/N pouted at him.
"I know...but I wanted to see you."
His heart melted at her words. She said the same words he had been thinking all night long. Taking small steps, he threw his hoodie over his head and held it out to her.
"Here. You'll catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes. Take them off and put this on. I'll go see if I can find some towels somewhere."
Y/N nodded and took it. She began unzipping her sweater as Hongjoong went out the door to check the supply closet at the end of the hallway. By pure luck, there was a wide array of freshly cleaned towels on the top rack. He grabbed 3 and placed them underneath his arm before closing the door and making his way back to the studio room.
"I found some towels for-"
He stopped abruptly when he saw Y/N standing there, completely naked. His eyes trailed down her body, some parts still dewy from the rain.
"What? You said to take my clothes of." She reminded him, snapping him out of his trance.
He cleared his throat.
"Well yeah.... I just assumed you'd keep your underwear on."
Y/N chuckled.
"But then your hoodie would get wet, then what would we do Einstein?"
Hongjoong smiled shyly. "I guess you have a point there."
Y/N was about to take a towel from him, but he pulled his arm away before she could reach for it.
"Allow me love."
He began patting her shoulders with the towel, getting some of the wet drops off them. Then he bunched some of her hair in the towel, squeezing any excess water out.
"Let me know if I accidentally pull too hard."
Y/N knew that wouldn't happen. He was always so careful and gentle when it came to these things. Once he was done with that, he discarded that towel and replaced it with another one.
"Jesus, did you get sucked inside a hurricane?" He teased her.
"You're so mean. I wouldn't even be in this condition if you didn't ask me to come." She retaliated.
"I know. I know love."
His hands began traveling down her torso, rubbing softly at her skin. He kept his gaze away when he swiped the towel across her breasts, making Y/N snort.
"Hongjoong, you've seen me naked at least 7 times. Stop acting so innocent."
He blushed at her words and hesitated to continue his task of drying her.
"Here, let me finish."
She took the towel away from him and finished the task he couldn't. She took the hoodie he had given her and threw it over her head, the length of it barely covering up to her mid-thighs, but it would have to do.
"You can turn around now, you drama queen." She rolled her eyes at his acting.
He turned his head and his heart fluttered as it usually did whenever she'd wear any of his clothing. It was kind of a reminder that she was his and his only, a sort of sense of ownership over her, as outrageous as it sounded. But Hongjoong would be the first to admit that he was indeed possessive over Y/N. She was just so beautiful and precious to him, he couldn't help but think that way at times.
He leaned and just pulled her into an embrace, holding her as if he hadn't seen her in years. Y/N reciprocated the action by wrapping her arms around his waist, getting the hint that he wanted to stay in that position for a while. He began caressing the back of her head, her hair still humid, but he didn't care. His other hand ran up and down her back, occasionally drawing random shapes into it.
Before he knew it, he was placing kisses on the side of her face, eventually kissing her forehead and resting his lips there. Y/N smiled fondly at that. Forehead kisses were Hongjoong's way of telling her he adored and cherished her profusely. He mentioned it to her one day when he had done that more often than any other times. Ever since then, she loved it when he did it, now knowing there was a meaning behind his actions.
Pulling back, he cupped her cheeks and squished them gently. Puckering his lips, he moved her face side to side, cooing softly at her.
"Who could not fall in love with such a cute face like this?"
She cringed at his words, but Hongjoong knew better. She did have a love-hate relationship with him babying her.
"You're such a dork." She let out a tiny yawn after she said those words.
Hongjoong pouted. "Oh love. I'm sorry for making you come out so late."
She shook her head.
"It's fine. Did you want something in particular?"
Hongjoong hummed softly, thinking about it. He wanted to hold her, that was for sure. But he also knew he wanted to try something, if she was up for it. Smirking, he brushed some hair off her face.
"Well.... I still have a few verses left to finish. What do you say if we try a little..... cockwarming?"
Y/N's ears perked up at the idea.
"Cockwarming?"
"Yes think about it love. Me nestled inside you, while you take a nap on my lap until I finish the song?" He looked to her with hopeful eyes.
She eyed him suspiciously.
"And what about when you're done?"
Hongjoong wiggled his eyebrows.
"Well, if you're not too tired, we could try something else."
Y/N giggled.
"Are you sure you'll be able to control yourself?"
Hongjoong smiled before picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist.
"Only one way to find out love."
He set her down on his desk and began unzipping his pants. Taking his cock out, he stroked himself a few times before sitting down on his chair. Turning his attention back to Y/N, he pulled her off the desk, placing her on top of his thighs. He licked his fingers before slipping them in between her folds, wanting to make sure she was wet enough so it wouldn't hurt her in any way. He slowly slid them in and out of her, occasionally scissoring them, stretching her out. He glimpsed over at Y/N, who was biting her lip as she tried not to let out any noises.
"You worry about me, but I think it's you who won't be able to resist." He chuckled.
Y/N rolled her eyes. "We'll see."
Satisfied with his job, Hongjoong lifted her up and maintained eye contact as he slowly sank her down onto his length. They both moaned at the warm feeling, it had been so long since they were like this. Y/N let her legs dangle and she rested her face on his shoulder. Hongjoong wrapped his arms around her.
"Take a rest. I'll be done soon enough"
Y/N mumbled something incoherently, already dozing off thanks to Hongjoong's warmth and his scent that she loved inhaling. Muttering a small 'cute', he went back to work.
The words were now flowing even smoother than before. He always did say he worked a lot better if Y/N was around. The others would always think he was just being delusional, but he disagreed. Her presence just makes him more calm, serene and helps him focus. He'd often joke about her being his muse, but even she would often roll her eyes at his statement.
He didn't know how much time had passed, all he could hear was the sound of his pencil scribbling on the paper and Y/N's faint breathing on his neck. Once in a while, he'd give her thigh a gentle squeeze or kiss her arm that was wrapped around his other shoulder, where her head wasn't. He had completely forgotten he was even inside her.
He was only reminded of it when he looked at the time that was marking that it was almost midnight. He debated whether to wake her up and take her home, or rearrange the couch so it could become a bed. Eden was the one who suggested keeping a sofa that could turn into a bed, and even kept a couple pillows and blankets in the studio since Hongjoong practically lived there at times.
But then again, she looked so comfortable and peaceful, and it wouldn't be the first time he slept in the chair. Turning off the light, he began closing his eyes, wanting to drift off to sleep as well.
But then Y/N shifted in her sleep, causing Hongjoong to jolt up and hold her hips, thinking she was going to fall. She groaned softly and shifted even more, causing his cock to twitch.
Oh my God.
He thought he was doing so well, and he could cool himself down, but the feeling was too good. Without thinking about it, he began to gently roll his hips up against hers, ever so slightly so as to not wake her up. At least that was the plan.
He smiled mischievously though when he heard her moan against his ear. He could feel her growing wetter, making it easier for him to slip in and out of her.
"Fuck." He whispered to himself.
He was getting even more turned on by the fact he was practically fucking his girlfriend while she was asleep. He shouldn't get aroused by that fact, but he was. And to know that even in her sleep she was moaning boosted his ego.
Y/N fluttered her eyes open, whimpering slightly at being woken up with an intense need. She lifted her face and was met with Hongjoong's face, his eyes full of lust and desire as he continued rolling his hips against hers.
"I'm sorry baby. It was just too tempting."
He apologized, but she knew he wasn't the least bit sorry. And she wasn't mad either way. It was definitely one of the best ways to wake up. She placed her hands on his shoulders, to steady herself as she began grinding down on him, not wanting him to have his fun only. Hongjoong hissed at the change of pace, loving the way she looked: in his hoodie, on top of him and desperate to get some release.
Hongjoong's hands went to her waist, pressing her closer to him as he kissed her passionately, his tongue slipping inside hers. His hands wandered inside the hoodie, cupping her breasts and playing with her nipples, causing her to shudder and tighten around his cock.
Hongjoong pulled back, gasping for air.
"Fuck baby. If- if you keep doing that, I w-won't be able to last much longer." He told her, trying to hold back as much as he could.
Y/N chuckled and challenged him.
"Then make me cum."
Oh. Those 4 words always set Hongjoong off. One of his hands went down between her legs, his thumb playing around with her clit. His lips attached themselves to her neck as he sucked and nibbled on all her sensitive places, having memorized all of them. All of that, plus the way his strokes got even deeper and faster had Y/N whimpering and panting above him. Hongjoong pulled back only to tease her:
"What? You asked me to make you cum and that's what you're going to get love."
His free hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing it enough to make her dizzy, but not harshly. He growled in her ear:
"Now do it baby. Cum all over my cock. I want to feel you come undone before I fill up your pretty little pussy with my cum."
She threw her head back as she clenched around him, his words being the final straw for her to break and release all over him with a soft cry of his name. She hid her face on his neck, gripping him tightly as he helped her ride out her orgasm. Her walls clenching and squeezing him tightly had him coming undone seconds after her. She felt his hot cum coat her walls, his voice muttering curses as his movements stilled, trying to catch his breath.
After a minute, Hongjoong looked back at her.
"Baby? You good?"
She nodded. "Tired."
"I know love. Hold on."
Getting up, still inside her, he walked over to the couch and set her down. He began to miss her warmth as soon as he pulled out of her. Grabbing one of the previously acquired towels, he wiped her inner thighs where some of his cum had dripped out.
Y/N was pretty much half asleep by now. So Hongjoong tried to move her as little as possible as he adjusted the couch to turn it into a bed. Grabbing one of the blankets from under his desk, he covered Y/N with it and layed down next to her, pulling her against his chest.
He stared at her sleeping figure for a while, admiring her features and smiling to himself. His finger traced her lips slowly before he pecked them with tenderness.
"I love you Y/N."
He wasn't expecting her to answer, but she surprised him when she unconsciously nestled herself closer to him and mumbled 'I love you' back to him, causing him to giggle at her cuteness.
She truly was such a precious being.
♡・゚:*。.:*・゚♡・゚:*。.:*・゚♡・゚:*。.:*・゚♡・゚:*。.:*・゚♡
479 notes · View notes
dulce-pjm · 3 years
Note
hmm for the mix and match drabbles how about established relationship + prompt 19!!! OR bakery/flower shop/bookstore au + prompt 6!!! you can pick!!!
hmm i see your options and i raise you this: why not all?
lol an epic crossover of prompts: au #3 - established relationship!au, au #2 - bakery/flower shop/bookstore!au, prompt #19 - “No, I have a [girlfriend/boyfriend].” “That’s me! How much did you drink?”, and prompt #6 - “One more kiss.”
make your own request here using these prompts!
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bakin’ me crazy
jimin x reader
word count: 3.4k
genre: fluffy fluff fluff, established relationship!au, bakery!au
summary: despite having one disaster on top of the other and then some, you can’t help but feel better when he’s around
a/n: apologies in advance. i think we’re all learning that i’m a pun-lover and that probably won’t change
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It’s everywhere. 
There’s sugar in your hair and lashes, coating your cheeks and sweater, even under your nails and somehow you swear you feel it between your toes. 
It’s been a long day. Up at the crack of dawn to open up shop, meeting with customers until noon, and now you’d found yourself baking way past your bedtime to keep up with all the orders. There’s nothing you’d like more than to eat your weight in cupcakes and enter the subsequent sugar coma on your couch, never to be disturbed again. 
But just as you’d pulled that last batch of cupcakes out of the oven, just as you’d started whipping up a fresh batch of icing, disaster struck. 
You should have known better, should have thought to check. Sunny was frantic yesterday as she rushed out the door, completing her tasks as quickly as she could so as not to leave too much work for you but still be present for the birth of her child who was not supposed to be due for three more weeks. You’d tried to calm her down, tell her to go home already, but you eventually learned that pre-parental panic is just as bad in real life as it is in the Sims4 and let her do what she needed to relieve stress. 
Which included restocking the powdered sugar. 
And in her tizzy, Sunny hadn’t noticed that this bag, the very one she placed on the edge of the shelf, had a hole in it. And you, in your own tizzy of work and stress, hadn’t noticed how it began to slump over, dangerously close to falling. You hadn’t noticed the impending explosion of powdered sugar until it had detonated on top of your head. 
No part of the kitchen seemed to be spared. While you were sputtering and stumbling backwards, wielding your spatula like a weapon as if it could help you, the fine powder coated all of your fresh cupcakes (which were still hot. and thus now had a weird film of dissolved powdered sugar on top), fell onto the clean dishes drying by the sink. 
When the dust settles, you think about crying. Seriously consider it. After the past day and a half, you definitely deserve it. 
Why couldn’t one thing go right today? And now you’ll have to stay even later just to clean things up and check to see if the cupcakes are salvageable. You’re tired and you’re hungry and you really just need a hug. Is that too much to ask for?
And suddenly the tears are pricking at your eyes and you’re sniffling and hiccuping and still covered in sugar. You feel pathetic and exhausted and miserable, the terrible feeling welling in your chest with every passing moment. 
The front door of the shop swings open, the bell attached to it ringing sharply. Who the hell comes into a bakery at this late? And what the hell did you think you were doing, not locking the door earlier?
“We’re closed!” you manage, voice choked as you scramble to your feet, slightly nervous at the sudden intrusion. 
“It’s me, Y/N!” You recognize Taehyung’s voice instantly, though it doesn’t stop you from being confused. “Sorry for stopping by so late, I have Chim with me and he wouldn’t quit asking for you and I saw the lights on— What the hell happened to you?” 
You’ve fully collected yourself, walking out of the kitchen and into the lobby to find your boyfriend of a few months with his arm wrapped around your friend of many years, staring at the floor and giggling to himself. You’re still a bit flustered, inexplicably covered in powdered sugar and very confused by the sight in front of you. 
“Uh, long story?” you manage. “Well, not really. Just a freak accident in the kitchen.” You approach the two of them tentatively. “Is Jimin okay?”
 At the call of his name, he lifts his head and smiles rather stupidly when he sees you. In an instant, he parts himself from Taehyung and stumbles over to you, nearly crashing into a cake display in the process. 
“Y/N!” He wraps his arms around your waist, digging his nose into your neck and shoulder, no doubt covering his blonde strands in sugar as he nearly squeezes the air out of your lungs. 
“‘Missed you,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your sweater. 
Taehyung shakes his head, running a hand through his dark hair. “He about drank his own weight tonight at the bar, that’s all. Let Jungkook talk him into doing shots and well...” You nod knowingly, rubbing your palm up and down Jimin’s back. “He gave me a lot of trouble on the way here, he wouldn’t let up until we came to check on you.”
You laugh when Jimin squeezes you tighter, peppering kisses at the most ticklish spots on your neck. You’re surprised he’s not more talkative, normally babbling on about any and everything he can think of when he’s had enough to drink. 
“You get any good videos of them acting stupid?” Taehyung chuckles, pulling his phone from his pocket. 
“I’ll send them to you now. Jungkook was flirting with a pole for at least ten minutes before he realized.” You snort and Jimin smiles into your sweater, nearly pressing his entire body weight onto you and sending the both of you toppling. 
You know Taehyung’s tired, try as he might to hide it. You’ve always appreciated how attentive he was of your boyfriend when you couldn’t be. Their shared apartment is on the other side of town, which means either they were drinking nearby (unlikely, you all hated the bars around here) or Jimin had begged to come see you so much that Taehyung finally caved, despite his exhaustion. 
“You can leave him here, if you want. I’ll let him sleep on the couch.” Taehyung’s eyes go wide while Jimin is still blissfully unaware of what’s going on around him, snuggling into you like you’re his childhood stuffed animal. 
“No, no, you don’t have to do that. You’re clearly all tied up here—”
“It’s okay, Tae,” you insist, smiling warmly. “Go home and rest, I’ll take care of him from here.” There’s a moment where Taehyung opens his mouth to argue, but he closes it, seeing your expression. 
He sighs. “Alright, it’s your funeral,” he jokes. “Thanks, Y/N.” 
“No problem.” 
The bells tingle again as Taehyung leaves, bracing himself against the night air. 
“Alright, sleepyhead,” you tease, ruffling Jimin’s hair. “You’re gonna have to let go of me a minute so I can clean up.” 
You shuffle backwards in spite of his grumbling protests, dragging a chair into the kitchen for him to sit on. You peel him off of you while he’s spouting incoherent sentences, gently guiding him into the chair. 
It’s difficult to resist him when he gives you those puppy dog eyes and that pout like he’s going to cry if you don’t pull him into your arms again, but you remain stern, though smiling slightly at this face and clothes that have also become victim to the powdered sugar explosion, via his contact with you. 
He giggles upon fulling taking you in. 
“You look like you got snowed on,” he says, propping his chin in his hand to keep it from bobbing too much. You shake your head, a cloud of white dust falling off of you when you do. “What happened?”
“You don’t look much better, love bug. And it’s sugar.” His brows furrow in confusion before he licks his lips, smile widening at the taste. “I’ll just clean it up and then we can go home, m’kay?”
“You should let me kiss it off for you.”
You laugh, reaching for the broom while he watches you sleepily. “We’d be here all night.”
“I don’t mind,” he calls back in a sing-song voice, seeming more awake than before, or at least, more talkative. 
You get to work sweeping up the sugar, deciding to put the forgotten cupcakes in the fridge and worry about them in the morning. You’ve too soon forgotten that you were sobbing and contemplating staying here all night to finish this order a few minutes ago, Jimin’s presence, albeit pretty drunk, helping you think a bit more sensibly.
“Did you have a good time?”
“Uh-huh! Had sooooo much fun.” You sneak a glance at him, smiling softly at how his cheek is squished against his palm and his head is bobbing slightly. He starts mumbling something again and you can only catch a few words. 
“What was that?” He sighs as you dump some powdered sugar in the trash, grinning at him sweetly.
“I said you’re pretty, dummy.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly as he shakes his head to himself. “Always making me repeat myself when I compliment you.” He juts out his index finger in your direction as his words slur together. “I know your dirty tricks.”
You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing, deciding to tease him further. “Still can’t understand you, love.”
He cries out in frustration, throwing his arms out dramatically. “You’re hot! Is that what you wanna hear?” Now you can’t help but giggle at his pouting, always so easily riled up both sober and intoxicated. 
You kiss him on the top of his head as you pass by, putting away a few stray dishes. “You aren’t too bad yourself.” At that, he huffs, making a point not to look your way and give you the cold shoulder. 
You still have a few things left to tidy up and Jimin doesn’t question you further while you do them. It isn’t until you hear him snoring quietly as you wipe down the counters that you realize he’s nodded off, neck bent dangerously as his head leans against the kitchen wall. You cover your mouth to keep from laughing at his slack-jawed expression, approaching him quietly and snapping a quick picture. You immediately make it your new lockscreen, just to tease him in the morning. 
You remember the first time you met him, when Taehyung invited you to go get drinks along with the rest of your friends. The shop had been a mess and so were you, so Taehyung picked you up from work as soon as you were done as to keep you from just going home and sleeping. You’d slid into the backseat happily, Jungkook in shotgun and Jimin beside you. 
You hadn’t given him many glances, just polite greetings and small talk, not until he quietly informed you that you had hot pink frosting on your forehead and nose and you were thoroughly embarrassed. Luckily, one thing led to another and the minute you had any alcohol in your system, you were pressed against his side, rambling about the cupcake business and your passion for baking. His giggle was more intoxicating than the drinks and you found yourself unable to part from him. 
At the end of the night, you asked him to go on a date then and there, like a drunk idiot. And he said yes, also like a drunk idiot. 
Neither of you made it two steps before you were passed out in the back of Taehyung’s car, your head on his shoulder and his lying on top of yours. 
The next day, you swore you’d never drink again and hoped and prayed Jimin had forgotten the entire incident. But fate is both cruel and caring, and you’d picked up your phone a few hours into your workday to see a text from Jimin, inquiring about the promised date.
There’s still things to do and you definitely aren’t fully cleaned up, but you make the executive decision for yourself and Jimin to just go home before it’s past midnight and you’re really miserable. 
You remove your apron, tossing it in its designated bin at the back of shop, grabbing a bottle of water for Jimin and a defected cupcake (i.e. you knew you loved this flavor and purposely messed up the decoration so you could sneak it later) for yourself. Your boyfriend is still snoring quietly, head jerking painfully every few minutes as his hand struggles to it upright. You gently shake at this shoulders, keeping your voice low as to not startle him too much. 
“Hey, love bug,” you murmur. “Let’s go home, okay? Get you to bed.” He whines in his sleep, pulling away from you. 
“I can’t,” he mumbles. You laugh at his dramatics, grabbing his elbows as you try to coax him to his feet. 
“You can, promise. My apartment is just upstairs, remember?” It’d been nothing short of a coincidence that the space Sunny found for the business lied right underneath your apartment, but in times like these, it was definitely a blessing. 
He wags his finger in your face, his eyes barely opened. “Nuh-uh. No, I have a girlfriend.” You scoff incredulously, crossing your arms. 
“That’s me! How much did you drink?” His eyes open fully and he smiles sheepishly at his mistake. 
“Oh. Oops?” You roll your eyes, pulling him to his feet unceremoniously and shoving the water bottle in one hand, guiding the other around your shoulder. 
“I barely drank anything, really,” he insists as you lock the doors and turn off the lights. 
“Mhmm.”
“Like— Two sips!” he says, holding up three fingers.
“I believe you,” you lie. “Now drink some water.” He complies, though his eyes lie on the chocolate cupcake you’re taking a bite out of. You catch him staring quickly as you round the corner of the building, entering the hallway that leads to the stairs. You’d take the elevator, but you worry that if you don’t keep him moving, he’ll fall asleep where he stands, so you suck it up and prepare to climb three flights. 
Before he even has to ask, you stick the cupcake in his face and he smiles, licking a big chunk of the frosting right off the top. 
“Jimin!” you cry, yanking the cupcake back. “You know I hate when you do that! Enjoy the cupcake as it is or just ask me for some frosting.” He doesn’t seem the least bit guilty as you glare at him, pretending the leftover frosting on the corner of his cheek isn’t both tempting and adorable. 
“But I loooove the frosting!” he argues. “You know what else I love?” You already know what he’s going to say, he’d blurted out the “L word” on your two month anniversary, totally on accident. Luckily, the feelings were mutual. 
“Me?” He scrunches his nose. 
“What? No.” You gasp, offended. “I mean, yes, you know I do, but I wasn’t talking about that. I love the name of your shop.”
You blink at him twice. “You like ‘Bakin’ Me Crazy’?” You huff. “That was the biggest mistake of my life.” Now it’s his turn to be offended, stopping in his tracks and nearly sending you both falling back down the stairs. “Jimin—!”
“It’s an amazing name, Y/N!” he exclaims, brown eyes wide and earnest. “It’s cute.”
Hmmph. “If you say so, weirdo.”
“Cute like you,” he sings, loud enough to wake the entire building.
“Stop complimenting me. I’m still mad at you.” You shove the last bit of cupcake in your mouth, wiping the crumbs from your mouth with your thumb. He giggles, leaning closer to you. 
“I like you so much, did you know that?”
“I did.”
“I’d really like you if you gave me a piggyback ride, though.” You scoff. 
“You’re such a tease! You always lay it on thick when you want something.” You remember his words from earlier, wagging your finger in his face to copy him. “I know your dirty tricks.”
He sighs, acting extra tired as if to emphasize how deserving he is of a piggyback ride from you. You’d consider giving it to him, if you thought you were physically capable and you weren’t on a stairwell. 
He takes another sip of water as he pouts. “Pretty please?”
“No.”
“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
“No.”
“And whipped cream?” A laugh slips through your lips, all too soft for him when he’s acting cute like this. 
“What are you even talking about?” you giggle, unlocking the door to your apartment which is thankfully not far from the stairwell. “Just keep drinking that water. You’re gonna be so embarrassed in the morning.” You guide him to the side of the bed next to your dresser, helping him sit down. 
He makes grabby hands at you as you fish through your drawers for pajamas, muttering something about you abandoning him. 
You hold up a pair of bright orange fleece pants decorated with penguins. “You like these? All my sweats are in the wash.” You toss them into his lap when he nods happily. “Do you need help?” He yawns and blinks hard and you smile in satisfaction, seeing that his water bottle is half empty and he’s ever so slightly more sober. 
“I got it,” he says. You go into the bathroom, washing your face and changing into your own kiddish pajamas. When you come back into the bedroom, Jimin’s already tucked in with the covers pulled to his chin. 
You cross your arms. “I don’t remember inviting you into my bed, mister.” He smiles at you as you slide in next to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. You’d had every intention of sending him to the couch out of fear that he’d puke on your sheets, but you reason that you’d be cold without him and you’d rather be close by if he did get sick. 
You dust the last of the powdered sugar off of his nose and brows, pressing your cheek into his chest, exhaustion already overcoming you. Underneath the alcohol, you can still smell the comforting scent of his vanilla lotion, lulling you to sleep. 
“Don’t fall asleep yet!” he suddenly exclaims, pushing you a few inches away. You groan, propping yourself on your elbow and wondering how the hell he’s still awake and bothering you. 
“What is it?” You blink a few times as he smiles cheekily. 
“One more kiss.” You scoff. “You still have sugar on your face. On your lips, actually. So I should get it for you.” 
You’re scoffing but oblige, smiling into the kiss as he slots his plush lips against yours, knowing very well you scrubbed the last of the sugar off your face moments ago. 
--
You wake up to your phone ringing rather rudely. You sigh, peeling yourself away from Jimin and laughing at his bedhead and the displeased expression he makes in his sleep, his face swollen and eyes shut tightly. 
“Hello?” you whisper, pulling yourself into a sitting position. 
“Hey, Y/N!” Once you register her voice, you can barely contain your excitement, bouncing on the bed once before reminding yourself that Jimin’s still asleep. 
“Sunny!” you whisper-yell. “How’s Jisoo and the baby? You a mom yet?” Your business partner laughs on the other end of the phone. 
“Oh, she’s fine. Just tired. The baby was born a few hours ago, but we’re still deciding on a name for her.” You grin. “So yeah, I’m a mom and you can be her unofficial auntie.”
“You’re gonna name her after me, right?” 
Sunny giggles tiredly on the other end of the phone. “I’ll add it to the list, don’t worry.” You’re about to tell her to go get some rest, but she interrupts you before you can. 
“Speaking of names! I got in contact with that guy about changing our sign so we can finally choose a different name for the business. You’re still serious about that, right?”
You glance at Jimin, his cheek squished against the pillow and lips puckered. You run your fingers through his blonde hair and he sighs contentedly. 
“Maybe we should leave it, for now.”
“What? But you said—”
“I know, I know. Let’s talk about it another time. Go get some sleep!” 
The two of you exchange a few more words of endearment and congratulations before you hang up, noting the sunlight cracking through your blinds. 
You know you need to get up soon. There’s still cupcakes to bake and customers to deal with and a temporary replacement for Sunny to find. 
But for a moment, you self-indulge, curling up next to Jimin, letting him wrap his arms around you and warm you back up. He digs his nose into your shoulder as you press a quick kiss onto his forehead, closing your eyes and drifitng back to sleep, feeling weightless as he holds you. 
52 notes · View notes
crackededges · 4 years
Text
Starry-Eyed
Pairing/s: Analogical
Warning/s: Kissing, implications of anxiety, and self-deprecating thoughts. If there should be more, feel free to let me know.
Summary: One night, Virgil finds Logan alone, gazing at the glittering sky. It takes Virgil every ounce of his being not to fall for the starry-eyed nerd in front of him, not knowing that he already has... 
Genre/s: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff
Word Count: 4366
Author’s Note: Leave it to me to make a Moceit ficlet and write this monstrosity after. Likes and reblogs are highly appreciated.
AO3
*****
“It’s getting pretty late…” Virgil stood solemnly across from Logan.
The night was warm. Warm enough to make the air heavy with musky scents of nature. From the sickly sweet smell of freesias to the shallow whiffs of grass, every little detail stood as an unashamed reminder of spring.
The evening breeze grazed his skin, wrapping him in its sultry embrace when he found Logan, seated on the ground, lost in his own head. The surroundings sighed. It was a delightful change from the usual cold nights that blew mercilessly at whoever was found awake and rattling with restless thoughts.
Restless thoughts like Logan’s.
Logan stiffened. He looked to the source of the voice, and let his muscles loosen once he recognized the figure in front of him. A short, relieved exhale could be heard escaping his lips. If one were to be quiet enough, maybe they’d hear Virgil’s curiosity spark in weak but volatile bursts.
“Virgil,” he began. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
Virgil stepped closer. The grass brushed against his shoes, delicate but assertive. He usually didn’t like the sound. It was much too unsettling, especially at a time where darkness enveloped each corner with its presence, rendering anyone weak and helpless. But at that moment, it was the least of his worries. 
It wouldn’t be a part of his worries for quite a while. 
“Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” Virgil stood beside him, making sure to maintain a comfortable distance. “You’re usually so strict with your own schedule.”
In one swift move, Logan brought his hand up to inspect the watch on his wrist and his eyes went wide. “My apologies.” He looked around, clearly disarranged. “I didn’t seem to notice the time.”
“Distracted?”
Logan looked up. “Pardon?”
“Were you distracted by something?”
His gaze retreated to the ground, shame and embarrassment flooding his face. “Yes…” He admitted. “I suppose that would be a good assumption.”
Virgil cracked a smile, finding amusement in Logan’s sudden loss of order about himself. He glanced at the sky above them. A dark blue canvas had covered its entirety with clouds bleeding into the thick veil, sporadic and untamed. Stars were scattered across the heavens, enthralling in their unaligned pattern. It provided balance in some way. A solitary flaw in a sea of flawless elegance. Now that was a sight to see. 
“I don’t blame you,” Virgil said. “The sky’s pretty clear tonight.”
“It is.”
“It’s rarely like this.”
Logan sighed, melancholy lacing his tone. “Unfortunately.”
A wave of empty silence passed. Logan cleared his throat, clearly not wanting to tolerate the awkwardness that hung in the air. “Speaking of nights, I should be preparing myself to sleep now.” He took one last glance at his watch before heading in the opposite direction. “Thank you for reminding me, Virgil.”
Virgil turned to look at him, his face tightening. He weighed his options, creating thousands upon thousands of reasons that spoke against what he was about to do. Yet... 
“Wait.”
Logan stopped in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder and Virgil could’ve sworn his heart fluttered inside his chest, repeatedly colliding against the walls of his ribcage, when he was greeted with curious eyes he would willingly lose himself in.
“Virgil?” Logan asked, soft and cautious. “Is there something wrong?”
Virgil’s mind scrambled for something to say, desperately hoping that incoherent gibberish wouldn’t erupt from his lips. Luckily, they didn’t. “Like I said, the sky’s rarely like this. And it’s a weekend. It wouldn’t hurt to stay up for a little longer if you want to…”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see how that would be a logical idea.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
Logan stayed bolted to where he stood, unwavering. Virgil sighed. “Things don’t always have to be logical, Logan-”
“I highly doubt that.”
“And I saw the way you were staring before I interrupted. You seem so... intrigued.”
Strangely, Logan’s voice diminished, possibly subdued by the last word. “What about it?”
“Nothing. It’s just that…” Virgil paused, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t see you like that often. It’s a good break from being…”
“Unapproachable?”
“Stoic.”
“‘Stoic’?”
Virgil nodded.
Logan opened his mouth, hesitated, and said, “Should I take that as a negative observation?”
He shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I don’t think you should. You have a lot of self-control. That’s admirable.”
Logan stared at the ground, his face contorted into something Virgil couldn’t read. A crease formed between his eyebrows and that was enough of an indication for regret to start seeping into Virgil’s handwoven cloth of conscience. With an uneven voice, he quickly added, “Unless you don’t want to be called ‘stoic’, then just forget I said anything. I’m sorry if-”
“No.” Virgil cocked his head to the side, feeling the pricks of fear disperse and disintegrate. “It’s fine.” Logan turned to properly face Virgil. A hint of a smile could be seen upon his lips. “‘Stoic’ it is.”
It was Virgil’s turn to exhale with relief. 
Logan went and sat back down, letting meaningful silence pass between them aside from the faint rustling against the grass. Virgil shifted his footing. He tried to decide if his presence was still welcomed or not.
“Virgil?”
Virgil glanced back. “Yeah?”
Logan smiled. His next words were enough to make Virgil numb from the long-lasting buzz of excitement that jittered through his bones. 
“Would you like to join me?”
***
That was how it started. Every week, after all of the strain, after all of the fatigue, the worry, the tightness that slithered and branched from every shortcoming, they found themselves in the same spot at the same time. There was never any formal discussion about it. Neither of them told or urged the other to meet them there. A specific time was never set. It simply happened. Every week, there was an itch in the deepest parts of Virgil’s insides, slowly but surely growing until it was impossible to ignore. He needed to be by Logan’s side, and he feared trying to form a sensible reason behind it.
Maybe he didn’t need a reason. Maybe they could continue this small routine of theirs, forever gazing at the endless sea of stars above them while ignoring Virgil’s agonizing feeling of wanting more. So much more. More of Logan’s presence. More of his demeanor. More of his calming voice that cascaded along crevices of Virgil’s uncertainty and distress, filling them with nothing but mellow security. 
He wanted what lay beyond civil words and shallow smiles, but he would be a fool to say that it wasn’t far from his reach. Wanting more was a luxury he couldn’t afford. And what he had in that spot, beneath the stars, was all he could ever claim as his.
If that was the only thing he had in his grasp, he was going to savor it.
Logan had just finished discussing Sirius A, the brightest star that could be seen from Earth’s sky. Earlier, he pointed towards three stars spaced uniformly from one another. They eventually led to a ball of light that seemed to outshine the rest, grand and dignified with its superiority. 
Virgil thought it was lucky.
“Do you remember the other day?” Virgil asked, poking through the wall of silence between them. That was another thing. Silence was rarely tense; never rigid. In some miraculous way, Virgil found comfort in the lack of noise. With Logan next to him, taut air was left with no room to settle. And Virgil was thankful. “When you said you were unapproachable?”
“I rarely forget things, Virgil.”
“I know.” A shaky hand ran through his bangs. “I just wanted to be sure.”
Virgil felt Logan’s stare. He didn’t dare to meet it. “Yes, I remember.”
There was a pause.
“Is that seriously what you think of yourself as?”
Logan turned to him, giving a confused look. Something dangled behind his voice. Hurt. Hurt that wasn’t his to carry. He couldn’t understand how the word could have affected him. Maybe he was tired. That must be it. 
“Yes,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Is there something wrong with that?”
“No, it’s just that…” Virgil’s hand traced against his jeans, taking a stray thread and holding it between his fingers, a faux expression of focus plastered on his face. “Don’t you think that’s kinda harsh?”
“Being unapproachable?”
“Calling yourself unapproachable.”
“I don’t think so.” Logan reached up to adjust his glasses. Virgil still didn’t look at him. “It’s merely an observation. I know the others find it particularly difficult to consult me for dilemmas. Making an assumption based on their selective interactions was a logical thing to do.”
“Do you think we see you as unapproachable?”
Logan frowned. An answer stood stalling upon his lips. Maybe he didn’t like that. Maybe the question wandered to a place where it shouldn’t, and he couldn’t decide what to do with it other than wave it away like a fly that was much too adamant for its own good. “It would be a reasonable assumption…”
Virgil finally looked up and met Logan’s eyes, shiny with doubt. He barely noticed how close they were to one another, and that revelation almost made him choke. He took a breath and finally said, “Look, take it from someone who rarely leaves his room half of the time and hisses at anyone who tries to make any form of social interaction. You’re not unapproachable.”
Logan blinked, but their gaze didn’t break other than that. He stared into Virgil’s eyes, examining them. Waiting for something to falter. Something to hang back, show delay, and possibly give him a reason to believe otherwise. After a while, he turned away. Virgil had punched the air out of his arguments. When he spoke, his voice sounded lost. 
“Is there any logical evidence for that claim?”
With that, Virgil inched closer. He placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder. The touch seared into his skin, but he didn’t pull back. He didn’t shy away. His hand stayed, rubbing fond circles on Logan’s back. Logan didn’t protest.
“You’re a lot of things, Logan. Unapproachable isn’t one of them.”
***
Logan's eyes rarely left the glittering sky. Virgil never complained. In fact, he found delight in it. Logan was in the middle of explaining the expansion of the universe, but Virgil couldn’t help but steal a small glance. He was glad for that. Studying the way Logan’s face lit up from uninterrupted immersion, a jolt of warmth danced without rest.
That was Logan’s effect on him, and it was certainly going to be the death of Virgil one day.
“I never got to ask why you were interested in space so much.”
“Hmm... ?”
Virgil shuffled, his shoulder brushing against Logan’s. They were lying on the grass now. What Virgil once considered as a comfortable distance was thrown out the window, forgotten, and replaced with a new meaning. He cleared his throat. “You always seem so excited whenever space is involved. I mean... I’m pretty sure that’s the reason why the two of us are here every week, isn’t it?” Among other reasons. “Why?”
“It’s big.”
Virgil snorted, nudging Logan slightly. “That’s why?”
Logan laughed at that. Virgil had heard Logan’s laugh before. No, not the stringent one that he uses around the others for the sake of emitting laughter. He had a real one. Raw and vulnerable. He heard it every time he was done with another one of his rambles about the origin of certain constellations, laughing off the far-fetched beliefs made by the Greeks and the Babylonians. He heard it after Virgil recounted an instance with Roman, on the brink of losing his mind after being told that he needed to have facial hair before he could shave, let alone use a godforsaken sword to do it. He heard it when a firefly strayed too far and found itself landing on Virgil’s nose. He wasn’t a stranger to Logan’s laugh. Even so, that didn’t stop his chest from stirring with endearment every time he did.
Logan shifted. “There’s something intriguing about large things, Virgil,” he began once the lighthearted jests had died down. “There’s always more to learn, more to explore, more to understand. Even with that in mind, space is something beyond that; it’s beyond our understanding.” He gestured vaguely towards the sky. “It’s a seemingly infinite void that holds non-Earthly phenomena and continuously expands even before we’ve had the chance to witness it all. Space alone proves that our knowledge compiled after millions of years is only a speck in our universe.”
He paused, taking in the view in front of him, relishing in it as if it was the only time he could do so. His eyes reflected the same fervor that spilled and oozed from his words. “Many think it’s overwhelming, perhaps terrifying, but I think it’s interesting. I even think it’s, dare I say it, beautiful.”
Logan sighed. A smile hung on his face, reaching past his cheeks and up to his eyes. Seconds later, his smile fell. He cleared his throat as a faint blush started forming on his face. “My apologies for rambling. I got quite carried away-”
“You don’t need to apologize, L.” Virgil’s hand trailed to Logan’s, squeezing it gently. At the corner of his eye, he could see Logan’s smile reattach itself, and Virgil couldn’t have been anymore lovesick. 
“I agree,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at the sky anymore. “It’s beautiful.”
***
One night, it was different. The usual balmy and cordial breeze had come and gone, leaving nothing but tight air that stung Logan’s nose. Virgil laid on the ground, frigid and quiet. There were no cynical remarks. No skepticism towards the constellations and the history they held. No glint of clever retorts. Not even a dismissive chuckle that acted as a sign of Virgil’s confusion from the overwhelming buckets of knowledge Logan threw onto his lap. 
Something was wrong. 
“Virgil?” Logan finally asked, having decided that he couldn’t withstand the sudden shift of the air between them. “Are you alright?
It took longer for Virgil to respond. Much longer. “Kinda…” His voice was worn and raspy. “Just had a rough day today.”
Logan sat up, facing him. He could see the restraint on Virgil’s face, clear as day despite the low glow of the night that only highlighted the sharp lines of his caricature. The view tugged at his chest, almost wounding. Since when did he feel like this towards another’s sorrow? Was it the way Virgil was clearly being selective with his words? Did he not trust him enough to be more open... or was it something else? Something he had yet to understand… like the dark veil above his head that held more questions than answers. Whatever it was, it tugged harder when he noticed Virgil turn away. It only added to his pain.
“Would you still be able to tolerate my presence for today? If you would rather be alone, that’s completely understandable-”
“No.”
Logan paused. Virgil tried to sneakily wipe his eyes, but it failed to get past Logan.
His expression softened. Virgil was struggling, but Logan didn’t want to be another stone for him to carry on his already weakening back. 
“You can stay,” Virgil said, his voice as quiet as a whisper. His face remained hidden. “Only if you want to.”
Virgil didn’t give him time to respond when he continued with, “If you don’t, that’s fine-”
“It’s okay.” 
Virgil’s chest rose unevenly. He looked up, exposing his tear-stained face, and caught Logan’s comforting gaze. For a moment, maybe that was all he needed; a look that held sincerity without an ounce of selfishness. 
He didn’t want to look away. He was afraid to. 
“I’ll stay.”
In a heartbeat, Virgil leaned into him, his face gently pressing against Logan’s shoulder, warm with tears. Logan wasn’t used to it, to say the least. Consoling someone was far from what he usually knew. Normally, he would leave the emotional complications to Patton. He knew more about emotions than Logan ever could. Quite frankly, Logan found himself vexed by it which meant that it would be doing both of them a favor. But today was different. Virgil was different… and he’d be damned before he’d catch himself sending Virgil away to someone else.
With his lack of experience, Logan only did what he felt was right. He wrapped his arms around him, placed a hand on the back of Virgil’s head, and he held. He held, and he held. He held Virgil close as if he had all the secrets of the world kept in his pocket. No. It was more than that... 
He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. Maybe what they had was beyond wanting. Beyond the usual things they craved from one another. At that moment, they held each other. They held without wanting anything in return.
Logan and Virgil sat on the grass, the sky twinkling without pause, and against all odds, they would stay. As long as Virgil needed him, as long as he had more tears to shed, they would stay.
In the midst of it all, Virgil’s words broke through, wobbly but certain.
“I’m really happy you’re here…”
***
A week passed.
Logan wasn’t there.
At first, Virgil didn’t know what to make of it. More days passed... and he still didn’t know. He knew the reason behind his absence. Thomas had started on another project. As a result, both Logan and Roman were whisked away, tucked back in their respective rooms, drowned in schedules, blanketed in pressure, and wrung dry with expectations as high as the stars. Virgil was no exception. That’s the thing with him... he’s never excluded entirely, is he? The sudden change in the flow of things left him winded; it left him gasping for air more than it usually did. Was it because of the anxiety that came with it all? Was it the tension and weight that he had to endure that disrupted the calmness of his days? Or was it... 
No.
No, it wasn’t. It shouldn’t be. Logan had every right to shift his attention to something else. After all, it was for the betterment of all of them. A victory for Thomas was a victory for all. If Logan wanted to dedicate his time to something that was clearly more productive and more worthy of his effort, who was Virgil to stop him?
Still, the pain that clawed in his chest didn’t cease.
Virgil didn’t expect Logan’s absence to be as hollow and bleak and... empty as it was. Surely, a little more than a week wouldn’t hurt much, would it? Oh, how wrong he was. As the yesterdays bled into tomorrows, something deep within him ached. It twisted and crumpled into a misshapen mess of longing and yearning. Yearning for the slowly expanding void to disappear until it morphed into a dismal hum, forever to be ignored and overlooked. He wanted it to shrink into what it should have been: something to pay no attention to.
He wanted... but he couldn’t afford wanting. He never did.
Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could pretend it didn’t bother him. He could pretend that the barrenness Logan left didn’t gather into a thunderstorm, raging and merciless. Menacing and violent. He could ignore how it lashed against his skin, the icy wind thrashing to and fro until he turned numb. He could lie. He could hide. He could find another way to ease his mind.
He could do that.
But if he could... then why was he sitting on the grass, looking out into the darkness, desperately wishing to hear who Orion was and why he was considered as such a great hunter from a voice of familiarity?
Why was he here?
“Virgil?”
It was Virgil’s turn to stiffen, but he didn’t turn and look to the source of the voice. He didn’t need to. The way his heart leapt to his chest served as undeniable evidence.
“It’s late,” Logan said, words drenched in fatigue.
“I know.”
There was a pause.
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“This sounds familiar.”
Logan smiled through his words. “It does.”
Silence stretched. It stretched much longer than they would have liked. Logan shifted uncomfortably. “Virgil, why are you here?”
Virgil’s chest rose. His mind scraped every corner for a reason. When he turned up empty-handed, he replied with, “I’m not sure.”
They were met with silence once more. Logan took one step towards him. Then another. And another. He sat down, and the warmth of his presence was probably enough to tip Virgil over the edge from his precipice of constraint. For a while, they stayed like that, scared of saying the wrong things and making the wrong moves. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe talking wasn’t worth their time anymore. Maybe Logan had decided it was for the best that they stopped. For the best... 
Why did the best always seem to hurt the most?
“I’m really sorry if what happened last time put you off.”
Logan glanced at him. “What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know.” Virgil scratched the back of his head shamefully. “I thought I scared you or something.”
“I don’t get scared.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I... don’t think I do.”
“Why do you always-” Virgil stopped and took a breath, letting his head drop into his hands. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Virgil-”
“Did I upset you in some way?” His tone started to waver like how a gate shook and rattled before bursting open, letting loose whatever creature that panted for freedom.
“Of course, not.” Logan’s next words were soft. Light. Delicate. “I was busy. You know this.”
“I do.” Virgil sighed. “I do know. I’m sorry. I just…”
For a while, Logan looked at him. Thoughtful and evaluative. He still had a hard time grasping why he cared so much about the words that left Virgil’s mouth. It wasn’t even merely the words anymore. With every action, every mannerism, every breath that filtered through his chest, he was left to dangle on a limb, desperately trying to understand more. Perceive more. Absorb more than what Virgil was letting on. Maybe, by some miracle, he could finally decipher the weird language of Virgil, and he could offer him what he wanted. What he needed. The chances of Logan actually giving him that were ridiculously low, but for Virgil, he would try. As long as Virgil’s mind went rampant with whirlwinds of disquiet, he would try.
Again and again, Logan would try.
Virgil lifted his head, still avoiding Logan’s gaze. “I’ve never had something like this.”
Logan’s brows furrowed. “Like... what?”
“This.” Virgil gestured to the space between them. “Just talking and listening and looking and…” He paused, taking his time to consider his next words. He ran a nervous hand through his bangs. “It’s always just been me, y’know? I’ve never had anyone else to talk to and help forget that the rest of the world exists. It’s nice. It feels nice. I guess I was just... scared.”
“Scared…” Logan repeated hesitantly. “Of what?”
A weak laugh escaped Virgil’s lips. “Of losing it in some stupid way.”
“Virge…” Logan began, but the rest of it trailed off.  It wasn’t important. Not anymore.
It all started with a touch on Virgil’s shoulder. Just a small pat that said Logan was there. But it burned. It burned with aching. Tenderness. Affection. Everything that was stripped from them after so long came together in one touch, crowding around like a whirlpool. Before they even noticed, Logan wrapped his hand around him. Virgil clung onto it, holding as if his life depended on it. Logan came closer, taking the gesture Virgil threw his way and wrapped him with another hand. His embrace formed a port, a cover, a shelter to shield him from the raging storm of the world outside of their little spot. Logan would do that for him. He had no doubt about that.
When Logan was close enough, he rested his head on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil turned to him slightly and he let their foreheads touch with a warmth that spread like a wildfire. Logan still had his arms around him, his heat infectious in the best way possible. Virgil couldn’t believe it. He almost didn’t want to. He feared for the sun to rise from its dark and desolate chamber, shedding its light and revealing what they had to be nothing but an illusion. He didn’t want the sun to rise. He didn’t want the night to end. He didn’t want to open his eyes and be greeted with the same stony loneliness he was used to.
But he wasn’t. He opened his eyes, and there was Logan. And Virgil couldn’t have asked for anything else.
Virgil spoke. It was soft and breathy, but Logan was close enough to hear it. “Are you still busy?” He finally asked, his lips lightly grazing against his. “Do you need to leave?”
“No.”
Virgil swallowed thickly. “Can you stay?”
Logan squeezed him tighter as if proving a point… and he smiled. “As long as you want.”
His smile was contagious and Virgil couldn’t help the way the corners of his mouth quirked up. After a while, he lifted his head and was met with blue eyes as dark as the night sky. His smile faded. So did Logan’s. The air quivered between them, shivering with uncertainty. But amongst all the doubts that clouded the moment, they were certain of one thing and one thing only.
Virgil leaned forward. Logan met him halfway. Their eyes fluttered shut before their lips met in complete and utter adoration for the other. Logan’s lips were sweeter than Virgil expected, but that didn’t stop his stomach from spinning and twisting into knots in the slightest. Why would it?
When they broke away, Virgil opened his eyes again and was surprised to see the same starry-eyed look Logan always had when he was lost in the stars above. Virgil couldn’t do anything else but lean forward for more.
Perhaps space wasn’t the only thing that Logan found captivating.
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excelsi-or · 3 years
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your type (pt. 10)
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Hello friends! This is has been done for over a week, but I was apprehensive about posting it because I've never posted smut on here before and I wasn't sure if I wanted it in the story or if I needed to completely write it out.
But then I realized that this Jihoon is literally a playboy and slept around the campus, so it would make sense that he would have sex with his girlfriend. This is essentially that. If you're not into that, wait for the next part. It's on its way :)
w.c. 3.7k (welp. this is officially the longest post I've ever done. thank the smut for that. this is your smut warning.)
pairing: jihoon x reader/OC
pt. 1; pt. 2; pt. 3; pt. 4; pt. 5; pt. 6; pt. 7; pt. 8; pt. 9
Seungcheol lets her into the apartment. “He’s still in bed.”
She’d called Seungcheol asking about Jihoon. When he had shared this same piece of information—that Jihoon was still sleeping—she’d told him that they’d agreed to have breakfast. And Jihoon was thirty minutes late.
“Go barge in there.” Seungcheol motions towards the back of the dining chair when she wordlessly asks where to put her coat. “He’ll probably wake up for you.”
She taps on the door twice before entering. Jihoon is just a lump under the duvet. She takes a seat at the edge of his bed and shakes his shoulder gently. “Jihoonie.”
Jihoon mumbles something incoherent as he rolls towards her.
“Jihoonie,” she whispers. Her fingers trail across the exposed skin on his neck. He shivers, as if he’s been tickled.
She pecks his cheek. Suddenly, two arms are around her waist and pulling her under the duvet next to him. Laughing, she elbows him. “Lee Jihoon, you stood me up this morning.”
Jihoon hums, the sound vibrating against her.
“You do realize it’s 9:45.”
His body slumps over her. His breath tickles her ear as he mumbles an apology.
She turns to face him and his arm settles into the dip of her waist. Instinctively, his hand finds the arch in her spine and lazes up and down her back.
“What time did you get home last night?”
“4 AM,” he mumbles.
“You idiot.” There’s no malice in her voice. Instead, she runs a hand through his hair. He makes a little noise when her nails graze his scalp. She files that away for later.
Her stomach grumbles loudly and a small pout appears on Jihoon’s face. “I’m sorry.”
She can’t help but chuckle. “I’ll go for breakfast with Cheollie instead, hmm?” She presses a kiss on his forehead. “You can stay in bed a while longer.”
“Stay with me,” he murmurs, his breath now ghosting over her throat.
“I’ll come back.” She kisses him again before untangling herself from him. Her eyes pass over his room. Even in the dark, she can tell that the mirror that faced his bed is no longer present.
She finds Seungcheol on the couch. “Breakfast?”
“With me?”
“Yeah.”
Seungcheol nods and pushes himself to standing. “Lemme get my jacket.”
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She and Seungcheol return, laughing. Seungcheol had indulged her with stories of Jihoon. She had reciprocated with stories of Jihyo. This led to the two of them being in stitches for most of breakfast. Once through his apartment door, she pushes him away from her.
“Okay, we’re only allowed to do that once a month. My stomach hurts.”
Seungcheol nods, swiping at his eyes. “God, I’m going to hold all of those over her.”
She shakes her head in dismay. “Jihyo will kill me, but those stories are classic.” She glances at the bedroom door. “You think he’s still—”
Before she can finish her sentence, Jihoon appears. He’s dressed in a blue oversized shirt and shorts. His hair looks freshly washed. “Done chuckling it up with Seungcheol?”
She grins at him. He holds a hand out to her.
Seungcheol comes up behind her, glass of water in hand, and pats her shoulder. “Told you. He’d clean right up for you.”
The two of them share a look and a smile. Jihoon can’t help but study them, wondering what exactly they’re referring to.
“I’m going out with Jihyo later tonight,” Seungcheol announces as they move to the living room.
She finds the corner of the couch and slouches into it. Jihoon makes a point of lying down, his body between her legs, his head on her stomach. Seungcheol takes the opposite corner.
“It’s been about two months now, right?”
“Yeah, Jihyo wants to celebrate it.”
She scoffs. Her hands slip over Jihoon’s shoulders to his chest. His hands find her wrists and she taps rhythms against him. “If Jihyo wants to celebrate, you’d better be ready for a whole event.”
“Really?” Seungcheol frowns. “Is two months a big deal?”
“For Jihyo? It’s the biggest deal.” The two boys wait for her to continue. “Isn’t it a big deal for you guys to have girlfriends? You guys sleep around. It’s your thing. And now you have… girlfriends.”
She’d felt Jihoon tense beneath her hands at the ‘sleeping around’ comment. Seungcheol’s eyes had darted to Jihoon at the comment too, but said nothing.
“I guess I never considered it a big deal,” Seungcheol murmurs. “Should I… should I… do I need a gift?”
She chuckles and shakes her head. Jihoon releases her wrists and runs his fingers up and down her arms. “No, I think you can give her something else.”
Seungcheol hums and nods, a smirk on his face. “Okay, I can do that.”
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An hour later, Seungcheol makes his excuses and says that he’ll be gone until morning.
“Tell Jihyo that I’ll be at Hansol and Seungkwanie’s, okay?”
Seungcheol nods and closes the door behind him.
Jihoon looks up at her. “Why don’t you… why don’t you just stay here?”
“Like with you?”
“Yes, with me. While Jihyo and Seungcheol… do whatever they’re going to do today.”
They sit in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s body warmth. Jihoon tips his head back, studying her. Her eyes are closed, her head resting against the couch. Her fingers are tracing patterns on his chest. He could fall asleep now.
“How come you don’t want to sleep with me?”
Jihoon’s eyes widen in surprise. He sits up and turns to face her. Her eyes are open now, watching him carefully. He’s conscious that he’s sat between her legs. “Why would you say that?”
“Your reputation precedes you, love.” Her eyes fall closed again and she snuggles into the couch. “But you haven’t even tried with me.”
Jihoon chuckles and pulls her down on top of him, lying back on the couch. He can see how alert she is despite her pretense of wanting a nap. Her dark eyes are analyzing all his microexpressions. His hands rest in the dip of her back. “Jagi, it took me almost two months to get your number and four and a half months of knowing you to get you to kiss me. I don’t know how slow we’re supposed to be going.”
She hums and closes the distance between them, her lips brushing his. “I’m not a robot, Lee Jihoon.” She runs her hands through his hair, her nails grazing his scalp. The same little noise he'd made earlier escapes him.
“Do you really want to do this right now?” Jihoon murmurs between kisses.
Her hum is in the affirmative. Jihoon slips his arm around her waist and flips them over, their lips never parting. He’s genuinely content to spend the entire afternoon kissing her like this, her tongue coaxing his into her mouth. She tastes like syrup, suggesting an American breakfast. There’s also a hint of tea, one of the most recognizable tastes whenever he kisses her. If anyone ever asked what she tasted like, he’d say chai.
In this new position, her hands slip under his shirt and dance around his hips. Her fingers ghost up his sides, lifting his shirt in the process. Her hands freeze on his ribs. “I don’t want to do this here.”
“You mean you don’t want our first time to be on my couch?” Jihoon teases.
She chuckles. Jihoon likes the sound and the feeling of her laughing beneath him. “Not particularly.”
Jihoon studies her expression, his eyes flicking over her features, darting to her lips before meeting her eyes. “Is this really how you want to spend our afternoon?”
She makes a point of looking over at the clock on the wall. “Well, I don’t really have any other plans.” Her eyes meet his again. “Do you?”
Jihoon grins, his heart thrumming his chest. “I can’t say that I do.” He leads her to the bedroom, his lips finding hers as soon as they step over the threshold. He backs her towards the bed, and she falls, taking him down with her.
There are few things that Jihoon has fantasized as much as he’s fantasized this moment. And in most of those images, there was a sense of urgency. Like he couldn’t get enough of her.
While that fact is true, that he wants every piece of her all at once, Jihoon wants to take his time and do this right.
“Jihoonie.”
Even her voice is dizzying.
“Jihoonie.” This time she’s laughing a bit.
Her hands catch his wrists. Jihoon pulls away a bit. Her hair frames her like a halo, her pupils are dilated, a familiar scene for him. What’s unfamiliar is the little smile on her lips. Expertly, she uses his momentary distraction to flip them over so she’s straddling his waist, her hands never releasing their grip on his wrists. She lifts his palms to her lips before intertwining their fingers and holding his hands above his head on the bed.
“You’re shaking, my love.”
The way her hair falls around them both like a curtain makes the moment even more intimate than before.
Before her, Jihoon knew exactly when he would have a girl in his bed. Girls before her seem like placeholders in retrospect. And then this beautiful woman forced him to slow down and enjoy every other part about being with someone.
And still, the way she feels on top of him and the way she tastes is intoxicating.
She grinds down on him, eliciting a gasp from Jihoon. He can feel her smile as he kisses her. This time, she manages to get his shirt almost all the way off. When she pulls away to pull it over his head, he chases after her lips.
“Jihoonie,” she lets out something between a laugh and a breath, “we won’t get anywhere with clothes on.”
Jihoon makes a grunting sound. He lets her strip the shirt off, more interested in kissing her again.
“One more,” she gasps as he sucks the soft spot just below her ear, “question.”
He hums that he’s listening, but doesn’t stop.
“Where’s that,” a groan, “mirror?”
This specific question causes Jihoon to stop (once it gets to his brain). He pulls away from her and when she stares down at him, she’s pleasantly surprised at how out of control he seems to be. She gives him slow kisses, easing the tension back so he can think properly. His touch on her shoulder is gentle and she pulls away.
“What mirror?”
“The one that used to sit at the end of your bed.”
Jihoon turns his head, as if he requires some physical reminder of that decoration. “Oh. In the closet.” Their eyes meet again. “Why?”
She tips her head. “Why do you think I want you to put it back?”
Jihoon’s cheeks flame red.
“Jihoonie, do you really think I didn’t know what you used that damn mirror for?” She rests her forehead against his.
His voice is soft. “You don’t think it’s embarrassing?” Whenever he’d used it, he’d never been embarrassed to use it. And the women who participated in the usage of it never used to be either. But it feels embarrassing now that it’s in discussion.
“For you or for me?”
Jihoon shrugs, his eyes falling closed as she presses kisses to his skin. “Both.”
“Maybe I’m intrigued to see how you use it.”
“Jagi, I think it’s,” Jihoon stifles a groan as she sucks a love bite onto his neck, “pretty self-explanatory.”
“Humour me, will you?”
They disentangle long enough for Jihoon to put the mirror back on the wall. She leans back on her hands and watches him hang it. When Jihoon looks back to her, she can see her silhouette in the left third. Jihoon’s black out curtains keep the afternoon light out.
Before Jihoon can address the mirror, she needs to be naked first. And in no way does he want to rush that. Not when he isn’t sure he’ll get another opportunity to do this again.
Jihoon’s hands find the skin of her hips. He pulls away for a second to catch her gaze, to make sure she wants this. Compliantly, her arms go up and he slips her sweater off over her head. It lands somewhere on the floor, but Jihoon can’t stop staring. She’s bare beneath the sweater, no bra he needs to deal with. She seems content to let him soak her in, her hands memorizing the contours of his torso in the meantime.
“Jihoon?”
His eyes tear away from her body and meet her gaze. She’s questioning, waiting.
He responds with a kiss to her lips before trailing kisses down her body. His mouth finds her breast without trying and he sucks a nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the bud before he gently clamps down with his teeth. Her body arches into him, silently begging for more.
But Jihoon takes his time here, pulling away and blowing on the wet skin before moving to the other side. He rolls the hardened bud between his fingers, tweaking only slightly to get her to groan again.
She squirms beneath him and manages to choke out a very weak ‘please’ before Jihoon continues his kisses down to the edge of her jeans. He unbuttons them and slides them off with her underwear.
Jihoon can’t help but marvel at the fact that she is now completely naked.
Beneath him.
Her eyes practically begging him.
When he doesn’t seem inclined to move any faster, one of her hands starts to reach for the waistband of his shorts. However, he catches her wrist and kisses her palm. “Let’s do you first.” He guides her to the middle of the bed. She seems to know to settle between his legs, her back to his chest, both of them in full view of the mirror. With arms around her, hugging her to him, his lips brush her ear, and he feels the whole shiver he causes go through her body. “I’ll stop as soon as you say anything but go.”
She hums, her head falling back against him, leaving her body open for his hands to explore. He cups her breasts in his hands and smiles when she giggles.
“This very much feels like it would be part of a bad porno.”
Jihoon can’t help but laugh. With a nip to her shoulder, he says, “Shut up. You’re ruining what may be the greatest experience of my life.”
She tips her head back to kiss his jaw and then turns back to the mirror, her eyes watching his hands.
Jihoon massages both her breasts, feeling her nipples soften at the warmth of his palms. Then he draws circles around them, pulling and tweaking them until they’re erect once again. She hums her pleasure, her head resting in the junction between his shoulder and neck, giving him access to her skin. He leaves more kisses there as his right hand eases down her body, his fingers finding the wetness that’s pooling.
His lips don’t leave her neck, but his eyes watch her face in the mirror as his fingers skim over her lips, searching for the one spot that—
Found it.
Her teeth catch her bottom lip and her hips buck into his fingers. He uses his arms to ease her body back towards him, against him, which is both a blessing and curse for his erection.
He’s gentle at first, moving his fingers up and down, dipping in just a little to spread her wetness around. Jihoon nibbles the tendon in her neck to get her attention. “Watch.”
Hazily, her eyes open and together, they watch his finger disappear into her. She’s tight and warm. To let her get used to the feeling, he pumps his hand slowly. His palm brushes her clit and causes her breath to catch.
As he picks up the pace, her hand starts to reach between her legs, but Jihoon gets to her clit first. He places pressure on it, rubbing languid circles with his palm as he eases his finger in and out. When she lets out a moan, Jihoon takes that as a cue to slip another finger inside.
Jihoon’s lips are sore against her neck, but he doesn’t stop sucking red marks along her skin. They’ll be very noticeable tomorrow. And while that thought pleases him, it doesn’t take away from her hips now bucking up to meet his hand.
“Faster?” he mumbles against her skin.
Her plea comes out as a breath.
He flicks his wrist faster and watches her bite her lip. When he inserts a third finger in, her moans are unabashed and sound like little prayers.
And Jihoon’s entire body feels as if it’s on fire, as if he’s the one about to come.
“Ji—” her voice breaks as she can feel the edge of an orgasm, “—hoon, right,” she gasps, “there.”
Jihoon moves his other hand that had been massaging her breast down to her clit to rub quick circles over the nerve. With his lips against her ear, he encourages her to come for him, that he wants her all over his hands. Her body spasms, and as her orgasm washes over her, she lets out a keen moan. Just for him. Right into his ear.
He continues to pump his fingers in and out, feeling her clench around them and he groans at the image that he prays he gets to see today. When her body goes limp in his arms, he slides his fingers out.
She leans her head on his arm, watching as he licks his fingers clean. “Genius decoration,” she breathes.
Jihoon kisses the side of her temple. “I thought so.”
His mind is still focused on all the sounds she’d made, cataloguing them for later.
She turns in his arms and Jihoon lets her push him back into the bed. She can taste herself on his tongue. He can feel her urgency building to once again match his, her heat brushing against him.
“Condom?”
Jihoon nods. He flails an arm back in the general direction of his bedside table. She seems more coherent than him, and manages to pull them apart. He keeps one hand on her, scared that if he lets her go, she’ll disappear. She crawls to the bedside table and digs around in the drawer.
Once she’s straddling him again, she stares down at him. Her eyes are blackened in the dark room, but Jihoon can see his lust emulated back.
“No touching my neck,” she starts.
Jihoon blinks at this statement, but quickly understands what she means. He nods. “No touching your neck.”
“I like the kisses.” Her hand brushes over the marks he’d left. “You’re quite good at them.”
He warms at the praise.
“No slapping my ass and I’m not a fan of hair pulling.”
Jihoon nods again.
She waits, unmoving above him.
“No slapping your ass. No pulling your hair,” he echoes.
The repetition causes her to smile and Jihoon’s heart clenches a little. He doesn’t have time to wonder why the boundaries have been set or when she’d had to learn to dictate them so clearly. But he likes it, appreciates knowing what she doesn’t like. Because the idea of doing anything she didn’t like makes his stomach turn.
He hears the condom rip, but doesn’t see it, because she’s kissing him. His hands tangle through her hair. He memorizes the taste of breakfast on her tongue, the slide of her tongue over his, the way her body feels as it grinds down on his cock.
He whimpers at one particular roll of her hips. With deft hands, she gets his sweatpants and underwear off. Jihoon’s acute ears clock the noise of them hitting the floor, but his spatial awareness is gone. His only focus is on the beautiful woman above him.
She sits back to slide the condom over him. Her eyes on him, her hands on his cock, all of it makes him twitch in her hands. This makes her smile and Jihoon is almost done right then.
Jihoon’s hands want to touch every other part of her body. His instinct is to flip them over, but he decides to let her take the lead. Jihoon’s rarely one to give up control, but something about her gaze tells him not to challenge, to let her guide them to wherever her body wants them to go.
She rests a hand on his chest, the other hand guiding him to her entrance. Studying him, she asks, “Are you sure?”
Jihoon blinks at the absurd question. “I’d have to be dead to be saying no to you.”
At this, she slides down on him. She uses his chest as leverage. Her pace is slow as she figures out what feels the best. All of it feels good to Jihoon. She’s warm, snug around his cock. She’s focused on her own pleasure, likely well aware that Jihoon is happy just to be here.
Jihoon’s hands find home on her hips, not wanting to distract her by moving his hands everywhere all at once. He peers around to the mirror. While her ass hadn’t been the initial reason he’d been interested in her, he has to admit she has a really nice one.
Settling back onto the bed, he follows each motion, his favourite so far being when she lifts all the way off and slams back down. However, she seems to prefer the roll of her hips, the pressure on her clit as she tips forward towards him, the feeling of him inside her.
And Jihoon concedes to her way of thinking.
“That’s good,” he mumbles without realizing.
She hums, but says nothing, focused. Her rhythm is steady, in control, confident.
Just like her, Jihoon realizes.
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All he remembers when he thinks back on the afternoon is the heat of her around him and the way his voice broke when he called her name as he came.
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Text
Locked and Reloaded [Ch. 5]
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Marvel AU
TW: Language, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Blood, Gun Violence, Implied Abusive Household
Genre: Action, Light Comedy, Angst
Pairing: NCT Dream x Reader
YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her)
(5/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next]
[Main Masterlist] | [Locked and Reloaded Masterlist]
Word Count: 6.5K
Notes: It’s about time these members entered the story. I’m dropping this now instead of a Saturday upload because I’m getting my second dose of vaccine in about nine hours, and from how both of my parents reacted something tells me that I’m going to be incapacitated for the next two days, so I decided to finish this bad boy up now! Currently next on my list to work on is Infatuation, so I’ll see you in that update!
Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in or condone these actions. I would never wish any of these actions to occur to the Idol(s) mentioned in the writings of these stories, nor do I wish any harm on them.
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“That’s stupid,” you told your older brother. Baekhyun just laughed. You had just finished ranting to him how a majority of the premise of chemistry was ridiculous, being founded on one key theory that could be amended at any moment, something now set in stone or put to law. It was a theoretical science that clashed with the lawfulness of physics and the puzzle of biology. “Chemistry is literally the weakest link.”
“I don’t quite think so, songbird,” the nickname was sweet in his voice, it was one you had had for as long as you could remember. He leans against your desk and he points at the picture. “It’s just atomic theory.”
“Yeah, and it’s stupid. Imagine, all of this work, all seven hundred of these pages and countless other books could get proved incorrect if someone disproves it.”
“You read this entire textbook and that’s all you have to say about it?” Baekhyun raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Wah, you’re so amazing and you don’t even know it,” he hugged your head to his stomach and you pushed him away.
“Ew, you’re so gross,” you wiped the sweat from your face. “At least shower before coming into my room! You’re disgusting when you use the gym.”
“And miss my darling sister? No way, that and I came to congratulate you!” He points at the certificate on your desk just under your coffee mug. “Not every day you win the science fair… again.”
“Yeah, yeah, thanks,” you put a textbook over it. He was right, but it was hardly an achievement for you at this point, it was an expectation.
“What did you do this year?” None of them even showed up, the only person there to help you with your project was Jeno, but he was always there whether you liked it or not.
“You don’t know?”
“I was at the conference, remember?”
“Oh, right,” you sighed. “It was just an observation on bees.”
“Whoa! Bees are great! They’re so helpful for pollination, for honey, and so much more!” Baekhyun smiles. “Hey, your birthday’s coming up, right? Fourteen? Oh god, oh no, my songbird? A teen? I don’t think I can handle this.”
“You’re overreacting! It’s not like I’m going to be any different. Plus, I’m already a teen.”
“Oh, (Y/N), you have no idea. Thirteen is the one year free trial before you start having to pay to be a teen. Once you turn fourteen, ugh, I don’t even know how to say this,” Baekhyun fake cries and wipes away the invisible tears. “It’ll be like you’re a whole different person.”
“Stop that! Why are you acting so weird?” You laughed and turned to him. Baekhyun crossed his arms over his chest and your smile dropped. You knew that look on his face better than anyone. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I leave tonight,” he says.
“How long?”
“Maybe a week this time, dad wants to show me the properties over in Zone 8.”
“Seriously? What for?” The factories that far out from the city were nearly ghost factories, they just handled building the smaller removable parts of the weapons your father developed. You couldn’t think of a possible reason why Baekhyun would have to go out that far.
“I have no clue, maybe he just wants me to see the Byun system at a smaller scale,” Baekhyun sighs. “Will you be okay here?”
“Will I be okay here? Don’t make me laugh,” you slammed your textbook shut and stared at him. “She hates me.”
“Don’t say that.”
“She does! You’ve seen the way she talks to me when you’re not around, Baek, I genuinely think that woman wants to get rid of me.”
“She’s your mother.”
“No, she’s your mother.” You didn’t mean for it to come out as accusing as it did. But you could genuinely say that you never felt anything from her aside from the obvious disdain she must have held for you. But what could you do? You’d hate you too. If one day your husband showed up at your doorstep with a kid you didn’t recognize telling you to treat her as if she was your own, you’d despise that child’s existence. All you were was proof of infidelity, and your stepmother made that very clear. You were her daughter on paper alone, but in reality, you were nothing more than a freeloader. “I’m just the bastard kid from dad’s mistress.”
“Do not,” Baekhyun held a finger up and stared at you with an intensity you’ve never seen on his face before. Seriousness wasn’t something that Baekhyun often used, especially around you. “Do not ever reduce yourself to that. Do you understand? You are so much more than that and you can’t let anyone who says that to you bring you down, you cannot let that weigh on you. Who even told you that?”
“She did. Who else?”
“God…” Baekhyun looked away and huffed. He held his hand to his forehead and sighed. “Keep in touch with me, okay? Just one more year and I can take it to court.”
“Forget it, Baek,” you waved your hand. “It would never work. We have no proof.”
“Well,” Baekhyun pressed his lips together and placed a tape in front of you.
“A tape? Seriously?”
“Don’t hate on old tech, they’re still around for a reason. I have a walkman in my room, second drawer on my desk. Listen to it later, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” you placed the tape in your own drawer, out of sight and out of mind.
“Just wait for me, alright?”
“Yeah.”
“(Y/N), I’m serious.”
“I know.”
“I’ll be back, okay?”
“Okay, just go, dad’s probably waiting for you,” you opened your textbook again and stared at the passages on it. You had a really bad feeling about tonight, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it.
“Love you, songbird.”
“I know.”
~
“Sungchan! Four o’clock!” You shouted towards the agent. Sungchan, moving a second too late was met with the spine of a book to his face, promptly knocking him out. “Aw, geez,” you shoved your bag under a table, hoping that it would be somewhat okay after the fight, and threw a metal tray, the circular object blocking one of the flying weapons from hitting Shotaro on his way to Sungchan.
“Thank you!” He shouts. He leans next to his best friend and tries to wake him up while the fight continued.
“I’ll try to keep you guys covered, but you might need to fill in for me eventually, Reaper’s not doing too good over there,” you stumbled over to the two and handed Shotaro one of the pillows from the couch. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah, just knocked out, but I have to watch him just in case… you know.”
“I do, just make sure he’s fine.”
With Jeno’s sudden appearance the Sanctum became a new battleground. Ancient artifacts were being used left and right for battle, whether they were used correctly or not, and with incoherent shouts filling the previously calm room. Strange was doing his best to prevent anything potentially world-threatening from happening, the Sorcerer Supreme understanding the laws of the universe, as well as any of you did, while the Maverick worked to bring down Vulture. The surprise attack rendered them at an unfortunate disadvantage. Strange was more concerned with keeping the battle within the Sanctum than he was helping any of you out, which was entirely understandable.
“I got it!” Peter shoved back the bookcase that was about to fall on you.
“Thanks, Peter.”
“Just so you know I am so sorry I did not mean for any of this to happen I didn’t know.”
“Oh goodness, no hard feelings, Peter, it happens to the best of us,” you said to him. “There’s no way you could’ve known.”
“Thanks, (Y/N), that means a— Watch out!” He pushed you out of the way just as a shield lodged itself between you, you turned towards the source and saw Vulture, and you had to stop yourself from getting any more frustrated than you already are.
“Fucking hell,” you clapped your hands together and jogged in place. “Stretching before fights is good for you, Peter, don’t forget that,” you said to him. Then you saw Cap waving his hand. You pulled the shield from its spot and threw it back to him.
“Nice arm!”
“Don’t lose your shit!” You moved your head to the side just as a bullet whizzed past you. “And watch where you’re aiming!” You dodged another bullet as it ricocheted off of one of the metal artifacts of the Sanctum.
“I am,” Jaemin’s voice was steady despite the chaos. “Reaper!” Jaemin tossed one o the artifacts towards the other, particularly a sharp one, and Jeno drove it into the wall next to Vulture, just barely grazing the Follower. Vulture grabbed onto the back of Jeno’s neck, the razor claws on his hands emerging and sinking into the half-demon before Vulture slammed Jeno’s head through the wall.
“Urgh, I felt that,” you rubbed the back of your neck as the phantom pain shot through it. You quickly stepped back just as an eldritch whip snapped in front of you.
“Mr. Wong?!” Peter gasps.
“That one isn’t in our database,” Jaemin grabbed onto the whip as it went towards you again, ‘Wong’ staring at him with a slight confusion, to which Jaemin just tugged it away from the other’s hands, watching the concentrated energy dissipate.
“Well then add him later, dammit,” you charged towards Vulture but soon felt something wrap around your ankle. You looked at the portal next to your foot and the hand around it. “Ew! Oh my god!” You yanked it out of ‘Wong’s’ grasp and shot towards him, the bullets disappearing before they could get anywhere close. No wonder it was so fucking convenient, you hoped whoever the real Wong was and where he was currently wasn’t too horrible.
“We should name this guy,” Jaemin dodged the eldritch disk that nearly sliced his throat. “I’m thinking Frisbee.”
“Oh come on, let’s stay true to tradition and wait for Hyuck,” you pulled a sword from the suit of armor next to you and blocked the whip again. You turned the hilt in your hand and smiled. “Ooh, I like this. You know my ex used to be an expert fencer.”
“I almost forgot about that one,” Jaemin hums. “What’s with sleeping beauty over there?”
“Got hit in a face with a book.”
“Oh that’s good, one less bomb we have to worry about.”
“That’s rude,” you scolded him.
“Can someone help me over here?!” Jeno’s pissed off voice came from the office. He pushed himself up from the rubble and cracked his neck before his knuckles. “I’m going to kill this guy, fuck the Agreement.”
“Does the Agreement even apply this far out?” You asked. Jaemin pulled out his phone briefly. The Agreement was offered by the D98 Avengers, basically promising not to do any dimension altering things, but it was just a promise, nothing was set in stone and thus was lacking in any legality. It was a gentleman’s promise, so to say.
“Technically it doesn’t, D62 is far out of D98 bounds. And since none of the Avengers are here…” Jaemin let Jeno fill in the blanks himself.
“Good,” Jeno tapped his wrists together, a blood-red magic circle appearing between them.
“Wait, do you guys hear that?” You looked around while skillfully parrying evil Wong’s attacks.
“Hear what?” Shotaro was nursing the passed out Sungchan while blocking any projectiles that made their way towards him.
“It kind of sounds like screaming,” Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows.
“No, it sounds like… no, of all the members to send,” you groaned. Then the sound of doors crashing open accompanied the chaos that was the Sanctum while a familiar face ran in head first, literally, screaming his head off, and rams into Dr. Strange.
“I got this one, V! Don’t worry!” Chenle shouts.
“You idiot he’s on our side!” Jeno grabs a polearm from a nearby suit of armor and whacks it over Vulture’s head, the polearm breaking in half right after and really just pissing off the Follower more.
“Oh is he? Sorry!” Chenle detached himself from the sorcerer.
“Looks like we’ll be having a change in plans,” Strange murmured and disappeared from the room.
“Did the wizard just dip?!” You yelled.
“I think so!” Chenle yelled back, despite being right next to you.
“Why are you even here?!”
“We were talking to Fury when Jeno just fell into a sudden pool of blood! I followed your tracker here because I figured you’re in trouble. Be grateful!”
“I never said I wasn’t?!” You heard a pang next to you and turned to your side, a circular shield blocking your vision for only a brief moment before connecting with Other Wong’s abdomen.
“Thanks,” you nodded towards Steve.
“No problem,” he says. “But where’d that bullet come from?” Cap looks around the room. Jaemin rushes next to you and grabs something, pointing it upwards. Within a few moments, someone materializes next to him. A classic cloaking spell, of course, right when you needed it most.
“Monsieur,” her voice was hoarse.
“Lynx,” you saw him grimace while the woman drove a knife into Jaemin’s side and twisted it harshly. A loud groan left the man’s throat while you darted next to him and tackled the woman to the ground.
“I like your D62 version better!” You pressed your gun to her head and she threw you off before you could pull the trigger.
“Nat!?” Steve blocked another gunshot from her with his shield.
“Not Nat,” Bucky answers.
“Where have you been?”
“This thing’s still glowing,” Bucky held up the crystal.
“Give that to me!” Chenle appears next to them and grabs it. “You meaty idiots don’t know what to do with this.”
“Was that an insult?”
“Apperio!” Chenle ignored the Captain and chanted the charm, a magic circle appeared around the crystal. Following the ripple of two blue circles that expanded throughout the room, two more people appeared.
“There’s more of them?!” You shot Vulture in the leg. Before you were two other notorious members of the Elite. Arachnid, who you fought before, and Dead Shot, someone you were hoping not to run into in this dimension. “Someone get Parker out of here as soon as he touches Arachnid it’s over!” You shout.
“Oh please, I wouldn’t even try that. What good is this mission if any of us blow up the dimension while we’re at it,” Arachnid catches the flying dagger and flings it back towards Jaemin, who easily dodged it.
“We have orders to keep you alive, Vendetta, comply and the others will live,” Dead Shot spoke in his trademarked mechanical voice.
“Fuck that,” you pointed your gun at Arachnid and click. Click, click. “Well, this is awkward,” you chucked the magnum at Arachnid, the handle of the gun hitting the area between the mutant’s eyes and stunning him briefly, while Dead Shot released a flurry of bullets. You ran along the wall to dodge them, looking for something to shield yourself with now that Cap and Bucky were busy with Lynx, Jeno had Vulture busy, and Jaemin moved over to Arachnid so that Peter could handle Evil-Wong instead.
“Surrender or be forced to, Vendetta.”
“Well, shit,” you held a book in front of you while Dead Shot went through consecutive rounds.
“How could you not know a Follower was here?!” Jeno was pushed back next to you while deflecting Vulture’s attacks.
“How the hell was I supposed to know?! I didn’t even know that those three were here until a couple of minutes ago!”
“Are you kidding me?!”
“No, I’m not kidding you because if I was we wouldn’t be in this mess!”
“It has been thirty minutes! I let you and Jaemin go for thirty minutes and this happens!”
“In our defense,” Jaemin gets pushed back to the other side of you and clears his throat. “Peter brought us here.”
“I said I’m sorry!” Peter brushes off the embers on his suit. “Aw man, how am I going to explain this to Mr. Stark?”
“Explain? Have you been reporting us to him?!” You asked.
“Uh… no,” Peter’s phone goes off and he answers it. “Hi, Mr. Stark, there’s kind of a situation going on right now—”
“Tell them not to come here! If any of the other Followers show up it could tear the fabric of reality apart!” Chenle shouts. A magic circle appears under Peter’s phone and it short circuits. Chenle adjusts the watch around his wrist, a much larger magic circle appearing from it.
“Vocavi te ab umbris,” at the utterance of the words the shadows in the room gathered together to a much larger amalgamate. “Go, Vendetta, I’ll keep them handled.”
“Fuck,” you spotted your backpack, which was pushed up against the wall on the other side of the room.
“What now?” Jeno asks.
“Backpack.”
“What about it?”
“There’s something really important in there,” Jaemin sounded disappointed. “We could hole-in-one it, V.”
“We could,” you said. “But that risks shaking it up too much.
“Hot potato then?” Jeno offers.
“Who would start it?”
“The closest person is Shotaro, if he throws it far enough I could probably catch it,” Jeno says. “Pass it over to Jaemin.”
“Then I’ll pass it to you. But by then you need to be in that hallway,” Jaemin says.
“Got it, I can do that.”
“And if anything goes wrong?”
“Wing it.”
“We’re going to die in this dimension, aren’t we?” Jeno frowns.
“On the count of three, break,” Jaemin says, ignoring his best friend’s words. You hand Jeno the old sword, which he took without question. “One.”
“What do I need this for?”
“Well, I certainly don’t need it.”
“Two.”
“Wait, are we even on the same page?”
“I don’t know, are we?”
“Three!” Jaemin shoved you forward and you took off, dodging literally everything on your way to get out and probably get some more help.
“Shotaro! Pass me that backpack!” Jeno shouts over the gunshots. Shotaro perked up and grabbed the black bag, chucking it towards Jeno, who caught it easily. “Monsieur— Fuck, too far, Apollo! Pass this over to him!” Jeno tossed the backpack towards Chenle, the heavy bag slamming into the magician mid-spell.
“What the hell?!”
“Pass it here!” Jaemin knocked over Lynx and used her head the propel himself up and grab the backpack after Chenle threw it. He ran over towards you and threw it. Right as your hand grabbed the strap, it was yanked away from you.
“Fuck!” You looked back at who had it now, seeing your backpack in the hands of the last person who should have it. You were about the run over to him, but the bullet that landed too close for comfort reminded you that you had to leave now. “Arachnid has it!” You’d just have to put your trust into the three that were already here.
“Got it,” Jeno bashed his knee into Vulture’s head, finally incapacitating the Follower and switched targets. You turned around and ran into the hallway. You just had to call one of the other members to run over here with some extra materials. You hit the side of your phone, which only frizzed at the motion. Chenle must have jammed the signals to prevent more reinforcements from coming, great. You couldn’t run around forever, Dead Shot always hit his targets in the end, you continued down the hallway, not bothering to look back, but when you found yourself cornered against a hallway, you forced to figure out a solution. With the smell of smoke and the sounds of bullets hitting the ground— Wait a second. You looked down the hallway, bullets hitting metal and ricocheting towards you but never hitting any intended destination, there wasn’t even a bullet hole in sight, instead there were just empty shells on the ground. But in your analysis you failed to notice the stray bullet that was right in front of you. Then you saw someone’s closed fist in front of you.
“Did I get all of them?” He panted. He opened his hand and twelve bullets fell out of it.
“Oh my god, Mark, you’re just in time, I don’t remember you being this fast either,” you caught your breath and hugged the speedster, separating quickly. Mark pat down the smoke on his boots.
“I don’t think I’ve ever run that fast…” He stretches his back and kicks the bullet shells aside.
“How’d you even get here?”
“The sorcerer guy called Baekhyun and asked us to come right away. I had a feeling it wasn’t anything good so I came first, told them I’d scout the area. It’s a good thing I came, otherwise you’d look like Sponge-Bob…” He laughs awkwardly. “You’re at your quota, aren’t you?” He looks down at your feet. You followed his gaze and saw the rusted knife sticking out from it, then you noticed the bloody trail you left behind. You sighed and pulled the old thing out.
“Remind me to get a Tetanus shot.”
“You are at your quota,” he gasped.
“Can’t afford to possibly die right now,” you shook your head. “I thought since the dimension was far enough it’d get me some leeway, but I guess not,” you grimaced.
“Shit, it really is a good thing that I came just in time,” Mark looks over his shoulder. “Dead Shot should be on his way, you didn’t make it hard to find you.”
“Don’t smart-mouth me right now, Mark.”
“Right, yeah, sorry about that,” the speedster ruffled his blue hair and unzipped his jacket, pulling out a book from it. It was heavy, no doubt, leather-bound with metal embellishments around it. The book had lived through as many eons as it did dimensions. You had asked Mark to try to get it for you if he could, but nothing more than that. Better to leave him in blissful ignorance. “Look, I don’t have a lot of time to say this,” he says while he hands it to you.
“Just spit it out.”
“I was looking into that thing you asked me about and here, this is all I got,” he says. “Whatever you need it for it’d better be important, I almost got turned into a frog for it. The guy I got it from warned me not to read it though.”
“Why?”
“I dunno, something about corrupting the person who reads it.”
“Oh shit, I should have Jeno read it then.”
“True, you can’t corrupt a demon.”
“But then again he is only half.”
“Look, (Y/N), I only got you the book because you were so insistent on it. Just reassure me and tell me that you won’t do anything stupid with it.”
“I won’t, I won’t, I may be stupid but I’m not that stupid, Mark. When are the others coming?”
“I just gave them the signal to enter, they’ll be taking care of the Follower problem here in a bit. But you’re going to have to explain why you’re here to them, and I’m afraid that it might involve you revealing your identities this time.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Why else would you be in D62 being housed and paid by this dimension’s Avengers?”
“Fair enough—” you were cut off by the bullet grazing your ear and landing in the wall behind you. Another one rang out and Mark grimaced, holding his hand to his shoulder
“Argh! Come on!” He grunts. He puts a hand on your back and one behind your neck.
“Why?”
“Whiplash,” you blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the Avenger’s Compound.
“Mark, don’t you dare!”
“Sorry! Jeno’s orders! I’d rather a pissed off you than Jeno!”
“Mark, I swear if you zoom out of here—” but the speedster was already gone by the time you turned around. “Dammit!” You kicked the wall and winced immediately, you completely forgot that it was the same foot that had a knife driven through it earlier.
He was right, you’d reached your quota. There was a certain amount of times you were allowed to “die” until it would be too much, and you knew you’d be at this quota when your body would stop healing itself, it was getting ready for its original host to return. You just didn't think you’d reach it soon, and who knows until the number resets? It was always a varying number, and until it did you had to lay low. It was such a hassle that you always tried to avoid it, but coming to this dimension seemed to have expedited the whole thing. You heard a bag of chips drop behind you.
“(Y/N)? When did you get here?” Jisung stared at you while he picked up the bag.
“Mark.”
“Mark’s here? Where?” Jisung looks around.
“There was a complication at Dr. Strange’s place,” you limped towards him, he rushed over to you and reached for your hand to help you, but you tugged it away. “I’m fine.”
“Oh, okay,” Jisung gave you a little more space, but still walked next to you, sporting that easy-to-read concern. “Do they need help?”
“No. The Avengers are coming.”
“Oh… oh no,” Jisung caught onto why you were being short now. “Oh no, oh no, we won’t have a choice then.”
“No, we won’t,” you heaved the large book under your arm. Jisung looked at it but chose not to question you. “I’ll be in my room, I have a lot of thinking to do before we explain ourselves to the lapdogs so, if you need me, I’ll be in there,” Jisung says.
“Oi, (Y/N)!” Haechan held his hand up and Jisung furiously shook his head. Hyuck pressed on regardless. “Think you need this,” he waved the small box in his hand and you did a doubletake.
“Where did you get that?!” You rushed forward and snatched it out of his hands. “Be a bit more gentle with it!”
“Whoa! What’s got you pissed? Jeno drowned and dropped this. Changmin said to give it to you so I figured it’s important, damn.”
“The Avengers are coming.”
“Like… these Avengers?” He points around the room. “Or our Avengers.”
“The second one,” Jisung nods. “Right, (Y/N)?” You didn’t answer, you were already halfway to your room. You tossed the book on your bed and you opened the small box, pulling the vial of iridescent liquid from it. You twisted it open and downed its limited contents in one gulp. You felt all of your muscles relax at once and you sat on the bed. The wound on your foot closed quickly.
“Postponed, at least for now,” you stretched your arms. “But not permanently,” you placed the vial back in the box and you grabbed the book. As you held the two sides in your hands, ready to open it, you recalled Mark’s warning. Then you remembered the words of the Demon King himself.
“If you know what’s good for you, and what’s good for the world you reside in. Do not seek more than you already know about yourself.”
The times you spoke to Jeno’s father were limited, and your best friend liked it that way, preferred it actually, but the times you did talk they were always pleasant. Save for that warning. He knew something you didn’t, the both of them. You acquired this book without any of their knowledge. For years you just went with it, there’s a quota for death, there’s a reason why you can’t die, there’s a reason why you should avoid stepping near the Seraph, but now in this new universe, you had to know. There was something calling out to you in this dimension, it was very faint, and you didn’t truly notice it until you walked into the Sanctum.
You put the book away, sliding it under the bed.
Trust is mutual, if two very powerful beings are telling you to stay in your lane you probably should. You knew the bare minimum of your condition, so to say, you knew what you had to. Die too many times too close together and something else will come and reclaim its host, and all you knew about that entity was that it was some eldritch creature that took a millennia to finally contain, and for some reason, it had some affinity for you. That is where your knowledge stopped and your curiosity began. What could be so powerful that even the all-powerful Demon King wanted to keep it contained, and what did it have to do with you? Your answers were under your bed. But you risked too much by simply opening the book on its own. You hit your head lightly on the wall behind you. The liquid in the vial would extend your quota by at most three, you had to use them carefully. If you were going to attract a horrific monster, it would probably be best to not do it in a world that you didn’t belong to.
There was a knock at your door.
“What do you want, Renjun?”
The door opened slowly, and someone else stood at it.
“Is now a bad time?” Stark asks. You shook your head.
“It’s your building, come in,” you sighed. He walked in at your invitation, sitting at the table to the side.
“So this is what S.H.I.E.L.D. meant by living accommodations,” he laughs.
“What did you need, Mr. Stark?”
“Tony’s fine, thanks,” he says. “Sorry, it was eating away at me, I had to ask.”
“You wanna know about what you’re like in my dimension, right?”
“I’d appreciate it, but, something tells me I should come back later.”
“Oh, no, no, it’s fine.”
“Where are your friends?”
“Probably getting their asses kicked, but I’m here instead,” you shrugged. “Honestly, you’re not that different. Maybe a little less depressed, but that’s about it. For what it counts, to our knowledge, you aren’t a Follower. You work closely with the Seraph, if they found out then you would’ve been executed on spot, at the very least.”
“Oh yeah? Crazy leader or rational one?”
“Bit of both,” you leaned forward on your bed, kicking the book further under your bed. “Want to know anything else?”
“I was wondering if you could walk me through your Traveler of yours, is it anything like Time Travel?”
“Let’s call it two sides of the same coin.”
“How so? What do you use? Cosmic strings? Möbius strip?”
“Have you heard of the infinite cylinder theory?”
“Also known as Tipler?
“Yes!”
“Then yes, I’m aware.”
“How about Schrödinger’s Equation?”
“We’re talking hamiltonian operators?”
“Bingo. If you can manipulate those two concepts, you can get time travel, but it’s not perfect. So manipulate them differently, add a few more concepts because you have to take relativity into account, and bam. Dimensional Travel.”
“That easy?”
“Yeah, well, no, but in theory sure.”
“And you never went to high school?”
“What’s that got to do with it? If you need a degree to prove you’re right then you’re probably not the sharpest tool in the shed,” you shrug. Tony opened his mouth to retaliate, but couldn’t think of a good comeback to that. “Something tells me you want to ask me something more specific though, Peter let slip that he’s been sending you updates, so I’m sure you’re here for a different reason.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why help us?”
“Don’t really know how to answer that one, Tony,” you placed your ankle on your opposite knee and rolled out your ankle. “Usually we just take whichever job pays the most, but Changmin asked us personally to take this one, so how could we say no? The guy rarely ever asks us favors, and it was the least we could do.”
“That simple?”
“What? Did you want me to say that we wanted to meet you guys? I mean, it’s certainly a plus. Most of your team happen to be carbon copies of the same one who wants to kill us, so there’s that, we’re observing the ways you act, maybe it’ll help us in the future, maybe not. It’s like a two-way deal, you get your Traveler, and we get data.”
“Data,” Tony scoffs. “I can see why you’d come to that conclusion.”
“What can I say? It’s helpful. But, I can definitely say that we might be relieved of our duties soon, we’re technically here illegally, I’ll have you know,” you said to him. “We’re supposed to get official approval from the Secretary of Travel before jumping dimensions, but we’re not exactly law followers so we never did. But now that an official government team is on their way, hoo boy, my greatest rival is yet to come. Paperwork,” you made light of what would otherwise be a very very bad situation.
“I heard, so we get to meet the other Avengers.”
“Yup. And, let me tell you right now, they’re not the nicest people.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, just you wait until I tell you about them.”
~
The shadow amalgamate shattered into what it once was, scurrying back to their original positions, once Chenle had the wind knocked out of him by Lynx. He landed harshly on Jaemin, who then lost his balance and sent the two tumbling down to the first floor of the Sanctum.
“Sorry,” Chenle rolled off the top of Jaemin.
“It’s fine, call it even for the incident with the banshee.”
“Agreed, ugh, my head’s doing cartwheels…”
“Cartwheels? I feel like mine is being churned,” Jaemin holds his head. Chenle and Jaemin lay next to each other for a moment, trying to stop their spinning heads when someone stood over them.
“Are we bothering you, gentlemen?”
“Ugh, these fuckers are here,” Jaemin covered his eyes with his arms. “Tell me when they’re gone, Apollo.”
“That’s kind of mean,” Mark frowns. Jaemin moves his hand.
“Mark’s not a bad person, actually, Tony. I feel bad because I encouraged him to join the Avengers when they asked, but the other guys saw it as a complete betrayal. But he’s loyal, he doesn’t hate us and we don’t hate him, or at least I don’t.”
“Oh look! The traitor!” He lazily points at him. “Do you know how much shit we’ve been through since you left?”
“All the dishes we’ve had to wash?”
“V won’t even let us take your room because she thinks you’re coming back! You dumb traitor, what happened to our friendship bracelets, Mark?! Huh?!”
“You guys, don’t call me that, come on! Look I’m still wearing it!” Mark whines.
“Go away! You left us for your cooler friends who can legally blow things up, go! Go have fun with them!” Chenle points an accusing finger towards the speedster.
“Just leave them there,” Mark whispers.
“We’re looking for Strange,” a deeper voice says.
“Oh my god, is that Wong Yukhei?” Jaemin asks, his blurred vision not helping him at all. “You know, Vendetta has a cardboard cutout of you, I think she talks to it sometimes,” he laughs, his words slightly slurred as a result of the head damage received when he fell on the hard floors in the first place.
“Flattered,” Yukhei responds.
“Wong Yukhei, decorated soldier from the order of war and the first in the super-soldier experiments. Actually not a bad guy, but feels the need to flex his bravado every now and then because of the team he’s on, and honestly, I kind of relate to that.”
“The hatless wizard is somewhere upstairs,” Chenle points up and lets his arm drop to his side. ��We’d help, but you guys look like one big ugly walrus right now.” Jaemin starts cracking up and the two high five.
“Do we have to work with them?” Another voice snapped.
“Li Yongqin, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, Lee Youngheum, he has too many names to remember so people usually just call him Ten. He was a perfect student in the military academies, which I’m guessing where his nickname comes from. But he’s pretty impatient, rather ill-tempered from my experience."
“We don’t have a choice,” a more suave on this time.
“Ooh, Lee Taemin. He's an interesting one, Tony. We’re actually pretty close, or used to be at least. He’s very good at what he does, he has years of experience under his belt, but it’s pretty scary. He’s probably done his research by now, be careful, he knows you better than you know yourself. Don’t argue.”
“Gentlemen, let’s end this, we have clearance from the Seraph to exterminate the Followers,” a more powerful one.
“Oh, oh, Lee Taeyong! He’s great. I’ve seen him work a couple of times, I think he’s shot me in the head before. Don’t ask. I have a great deal of respect for him, but he’s kind of anti-social, not easy to get along with him, but I think it’s all miscommunication in the end. I think if we really got to know each other we’d hit it off, but otherwise, I think I’m just a person with a bounty on her head in his eyes.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jaemin pushed himself up, his eyes finally focusing. “Exterminate? Yeah, you guys do that, but let the Maverick leave first, we don’t want to get caught up in your deathmatch again,” Jaemin hits the side of his head a few times.
“Where’s the Vendetta?”
“Not here! She left because Reaper was being a little bitch!” Jaemin laughs again and Chenle joins him.
“We’re wasting our time here with these idiots,” another person says. Chenle squints his eyes to make out the figure.
“Now there’s Kim Jongin, he’s one of the people who started the Avengers project and got them all together. He’s an indispensable member, in my opinion. But when you’re in a team with that many star-studded members who are constantly in the public eye, it’s easy to get lost in the lights. But he knows how to keep things according to itinerary.”
“Who are you again?” He asks. “I thought the Avengers only had six members,” he stifles back a laugh.
“Dude that’s low!” Jaemin cackles. Mark swallows down a laugh when Taemin looks over at him, both of them trying to be respectful to their teammate.
“I know that’s why I said it!” Chenle hits his teammate’s arm and Jaemin winces, but the two continue in their little circus.
“Forget them, let’s just go,” Jongin. The team ascends the steps.
“Enter, the Avengers,” Baekhyun smiles.
“And finally there’s their leader. Byun Baekhyun— yes, he’s my older brother, no we don’t talk, and I don’t think he even knows I’m alive. He’s similar to you in some aspects, he pays for all of their shit. But he’s manipulative. He knows how to get into your head. Be careful with him.”
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wholesomemendes · 4 years
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Your Teddy Bear
Mendes Triplet Au (Peter Mendes)
Summary: No one could’ve guessed you would have ended up with Peter, but the two of you give each other a love neither of you ever thought you’d be lucky enough to experience. 
Author’s Note: This is my first time writing with the Mendes Triplet concept by @thotmendes and I’m honestly so excited about it. Also, shout out to @fallinallincurls for talking concepts with me the other night that inspired me to write this and @princecharmingmendes for telling me too write it along with a ton of other people that got me to finish this (such as @itrocksmysocks​ who sent me a bunch of Peter pictures that were absolutely adorable). So I hope you guys enjoy this! It’s literally 4.6k of just pure fluff and more fluff after that. As always please tell me what you think!
Warnings: Mild Swearing (like literally only one or two words)
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No one knew how Peter Mendes ended up with you. Hell, Peter didn’t even know how he ended up with someone like you, but somehow almost every night he fell asleep with his head on your chest, your hands brushing through his mess of fluffy curls. You commanded the room any time you walked in it, confidence radiating off you in every aspect as you strode past everyone with your shoulders pushed back and chin held high. Known to be the life of the party, you were the one people could rely on to flirt your way past the guy at the liquor store to bring the best booze to all of the frat parties, and your name was well ingrained into the minds of almost every student at your wide campus. 
Peter, on the other hand, was only known by a handful of students and for a completely different set of reasons. Typically when one thought of Peter they first thought of Raul, the oldest of the Mendes triplets that was known for partying and hooking up with girls, or Shawn, the captain of the hockey team that could easily get any girl he wanted just by looking them in the eyes and serenading them with his singing and guitar. If by some miracle they knew Peter for another reason, it’d probably be because he happened to be one of the smartest students in every single one of his classes and often was asked for tutoring or help with homework. When you thought of Peter Mendes you thought of the smart Mendes, which was exactly why it just didn’t seem right that the two of you were together.
It wasn’t like you were unintelligent by any means, you got As and Bs in all of your classes, but you weren’t even close to the level of Peter’s smarts. Most students would say Raul would be your type, you both had dominating, cocky almost personalities on the outside and loved to party, a seemingly perfect fit. Or even Shawn, who had a smooth, laid back persona would be a great match for you if he didn’t already have a girlfriend to love. 
But you knew how you ended up with Peter. It was just 6 months ago when that curly headed boy walked into your life, flipping it completely upside down in the best way possible. You remember it clear as day; you had just gone into the kitchen of the frat house to get another drink when you spotted a cuddly giant leaning against the counter looking completely out of place, swirling his drink inside of his solo cup. You excused yourself, reaching behind him to grab some pop causing him to look at you with wide eyes, apologizing profusely for being in your way. Giggling at his reaction you reassured the startled boy that there was nothing to worry about, before properly introducing yourself.
“I’m Y/n by the way.”
“I know,” he responded, cheeks heating up after realizing what he had said. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t completely infatuated by you, how could he not be? You were absolutely gorgeous and the definition of perfection in his eyes, and something about your mysterious aura left him wanting to know everything about you. Yet here he was, completely embarrassing himself in front of the girl he was secretly crushing on. “I’m sorry that was so weird, um, I’m Peter,” he stuck his hand out for you to shake it, a laugh escaping your lips as you took it firmly in your own. His heart was beating out of his chest at the fact that not only were you engaging in a conversation with him, but you had just shaken his hand, which he was now realizing was not a common thing for teenagers to do and was probably screwing up any chance he had of getting to know you.
“So what’s in the cup?” you asked, motioning to the drink that was pretty much still filled to the brim, a clear sign that its contents were not appealing to him.
“Oh, um, it’s beer, but I’m not really that much of a drinker, especially in large crowds.” His cheeks burned bright red under your stare and he wondered how much deeper of a hole he was going to dig himself into with all of this information he was giving out. Surely someone like you would find him boring soon, it was only a matter of time before you left him to talk to someone hotter and much more interesting. 
But to his surprise you moved closer, leaning against the counter next to him as you brought your cup to your lips. “Want to know a secret?” you whispered, Peter nodding frantically like a little boy about to get a new toy, “I’m not that into drinking either. I only really do it at parties and even then I usually keep it to a minimum. I’ve been here for three hours and all I’ve had is half a white claws I ended up giving to my friend. This is Pepsi.” You took another sip from your cup, watching as his jaw dropped at the information causing a smirk to form on your face, “You know I’ve never actually told anyone that, but I have a feeling you’re not gonna go around telling everyone what I tell you.”
“No, no, I won't, I promise.”
“Good, now what do you say we find somewhere quieter to get away from all of this. I’ve had a long day and I have a feeling you love parties just as much as you love drinking.” Peter thought he had never smiled so wide as you took his hand and pulled him into an empty room, one you just happened to know wouldn’t be used tonight. The two of you talked for hours, about how he was dragged there and then abandoned by his two identical brothers, to the research he was doing for astronomy class. You listened intently to everything he said, even adding some of your own input about topics he never thought you would be interested in, and he truly thought in that moment that he had never felt more seen, more appreciated and thought of as someone other than the unknown Mendes brother. You parted ways when it got too late for the both of you, exchanging numbers with a promise to see the other again soon, Peter’s heart racing at the thought of seeing you once more. You never told him, but he had your heart that first night you met him, finally having someone who wanted to know more about you than how to get in your pants. 
So even though it shocked the entire school to see Peter’s arm wrapped around your shoulders two weeks later, the two of you felt perfectly content and at peace with one another, your personalities balancing each other out, fitting in like the missing pieces to your own individual puzzles. If you ever had a bad day, you knew that the moment you saw your cuddly giant of a boyfriend looking as comfy as ever in his softest sweatshirts, glasses adorning his beautiful face, your mood would instantly be lightened and everything would be alright. And that’s exactly what you needed right now, a cuddly Peter to turn your day around. 
So there you were, headed to the triplets apartment off campus to see your man. Raul, Peter, and Shawn had all bought a four-bedroom apartment only a couple minutes off campus after their sophomore year, and you were around so much that they trusted you with the code and your very own key. You fit right in with the boys easily; you had seen Raul and Shawn at a couple parties before you met Peter, but you never spoke more than a few words to one another. Now that you were dating Peter though, you were practically treated as their sister, blending right into the dynamics of their tight knit family. If there was one thing the Mendes brothers were, it was close and you never quite understood how deep their connections were with one another until you were around them so much. Peter was never known to be a player, always wanting to just be in a serious relationship, so it had been years since he had brought a girl home around his brothers. For that very reason, Shawn and Raul were extremely protective over him, but you easily passed the test they gave you right off the bat. They loved you, not to mention they could tell that Peter was head over heels for you long before he told you 3 months into your relationship. He had been laying on your chest, breathing starting to become heavy as you lured him to sleep with your head massages. 
“I love you,” he mumbled into your shirt almost incoherently, an innocent slip of the tongue in his sleepy state. You froze, hand pausing in his hair for a second as he whined from the lack of your touch, not even processing what he just said. You hadn’t ever told one of your boyfriends that you loved them, the thought always seeming too permanent and constricting. But Peter was different and you knew that from the start. He made you feel things that you worried in the dead of night you might never experience and even though it was early in your relationship, Peter felt emotions so deeply and openly that your heart was completely owned by him.
“I love you too, Pete.” He hummed in confusion at your words, suddenly a lot more awake as he sat up to look you in the eyes.
“What?”
“You told me you loved me and I said I love you too.”
“You do?” he asked, eyes wide, happy tears prickling in the corners of them.
“I don’t know how I couldn’t bubs,” and with that he surged forward, connecting your lips to his with as much passion as he could possibly muster. 
After he woke up, Peter immediately told his brothers about the night’s events, the two of them filled with joy that someone could make their brother as happy as he was. A month later he gave his virginity to you and the praise (and teasing) he got from his brothers was never ending. You weren’t forgotten either for later that day when you showed up, Shawn immediately began wiggling his eyebrows at you as Raul started cracking sexual jokes, Peter looking sheepish in the background. You had rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance, though you could never be truly mad at Peter for sharing your relationship with his brothers. You learned very quickly that there was little to no privacy with the three of them and anything you did was fair game in their conversations. You didn’t mind, you loved how close they were, not to mention how supportive they were of one another, and you definitely didn’t complain when you had two extremely buff guys protecting you from drunk creeps at parties that didn’t seem to grasp the concept that you were in a relationship.
But being close to the brothers also meant they were used to your random appearances when you typically showed up unannounced even to Peter, who never complained about getting to spend more time with you. Which happened to be the case today, when you stormed in, muttering a quick hello to Raul who was spread out on the couch as you headed towards Peter’s room.
“Peter?” you asked, knocking twice before entering at his request, not even greeting him and instead landing face down on his mattress with a huff. 
Your boyfriend closed his laptop, saving his work and sitting up to give you his full attention, running his fingers over your back, “What’s wrong, angel?”
“She’s such a bitch!” you complained, rolling over onto your back to stare at the ceiling.
“Who?” This is how it usually went if you were having a bad day, he’d ask you generic questions, allowing you to let out all of your pent up frustration until you were ready to be cuddled for the rest of the night.
“Marissa! You won’t believe this. This guy comes up to me after class today and tries to give me his number and I’m obviously like no, sorry, I’ve already got the greatest man in the world, I don’t have any interest or need for anyone else. But guess what?!”
It didn’t even phase Peter at this point that a guy tried to get your number, it happened so often that he was partially immune to the doubts and jealousy that came with it. In the beginning it was hard for him, constantly feeling like he wasn’t enough and didn’t deserve you, but you proved to him time after time again that you were completely gone for him and that he was more than you could ever dream of. And he would never, ever question your loyalty to him, if there was one thing you weren’t it was a cheater. “What?”
“Turns out this dude had a girlfriend, Marissa, and so of course she was pissed that he was trying to get my number, which is understandable. But guess who she blames it on?”
“You?”
“Me! Like are you KIDDING me?! I’m not the one with loyalty issues here, sweetie, yet here you are accusing me of trying to get with your man. Why would I even want his number? Even if I was a cheater, which ugh I want to throw up just thinking about it, you’re a hundred times hotter and better than him in every way so it doesn’t make sense. So no, it wasn’t me, sorry your boyfriend’s a manwhore, Marissa.”  A chuckle escaped Peter’s lips, head tilting back against the headboard as he laughed. You turned your head at the beautiful sound, meeting his eyes a few seconds later for the first time that night. And just like that. Mood completely better. The sight of him, hair a fluffy mess basically asking to be played with, adorable glasses being pushed up by the scrunch in his nose, and comfy pink sweatshirt on his frame making him look as soft as ever. 
“Hi bubs.”
 Peter smiled his loving smile he reserved for you, laughing to himself at how quick your mood could change around him, “Hi angel. Feeling better?”
You nodded, crawling up the bed into his open arms, sliding underneath the covers next to him as you rested your head on his chest, “I love you.”
“I love you so much.” He adjusted in the bed to better lay down with you laying on top of him, stroking your hair before placing gentle kisses on the top of your head, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, bubs,” you snuggled further into his chest, cheek squishing against the fabric of his sweatshirt, “Just wanna cuddle you all night long.”
“I can do that,” Peter whispered, voice soft against your ear, “You doing anything for the rest of the night? I heard Raul saying there’s a huge frat party he’s going to later.”
“Yeah I heard about that,” you admitted, “But I don’t think I’m gonna go. Rather just lay here with you. If you want to, that is.”
Peter’s heart swelled three sizes at your words, nodding his head as he traced I love you onto your back like he always did when he was given the chance. It was true that ever since you started dating Peter you weren’t found at parties as often as you used to be. You still enjoyed going to them, you even managed to bring Peter to a couple of them and he found them much more enjoyable with you by his side, but more often you found yourself just wanting to stay in with your man rather than being surrounded by a bunch of people you hardly knew. “I’d love that,” he spoke against your ear, still leaving butterfly kisses in your hair, “Why don’t we have a movie night? I bought your favorite cookie dough, I could go pop them in the oven if you wanted.”
Your head perked up at his words, a smile gracing your face, “Mrs. Field’s Chocolate Chip?”
“Mhm,” he hummed in response, a squeal leaving your mouth as you jumped off the bed pulling him with you.
“Come on, come on, cookies, Pete!” He laughed, grabbing your hand in his and letting you drag him to the kitchen. He loved how different you were with him, how you were so carefree and loving compared to the confident, I don’t care vibe you gave off to everyone. It was like a secret only he got to see and as long as you kept showing it to him, he was gonna soak in every second of it. 
Upon arriving in the kitchen, you jumped to sit onto the counter while Peter rummaged through the fridge in search of the mouth-watering cookie dough. You leaned over to wash your hands in the sink next to him before rolling the dough into large balls to get the biggest cookies possible. The first time you made cookies with Peter he was shocked at how much dough you were rolling for one cookie, claiming that they weren’t going to turn out well if they weren’t perfectly symmetrical to the suggested sizing on the side of the packaging. But once he tasted the big cookies he had no complaints, and neither did the rest of the triplets. Once the package was finished and you had two sheets of cookies in the oven, you watched as Peter set the timer on the oven, little tongue sticking out in concentration.
“Come here, big guy,” you motioned him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist once he stood in the middle of them, hands on your thighs. You placed your hands on his shoulders, one hand making its way to play with the curls on the back of his neck. He stared up at you with doe like eyes, hands frozen on your thighs no matter how much he wanted to move them. Even if you had been dating for over half a year now, Peter was still shy and nervous about touching you, so even having him put his hands there in the first place without you telling him it was ok was a big deal. “You can move your hands if you want,” you whispered, eyes holding his soft gaze, feeling his thumbs start to slowly rub circles against the fabric of your jeans, “You’re so handsome, did you know that?”
He blushed at your words, head ducking down to look at the ground, “‘M not handsome, you just have to say that cause I’m your boyfriend.” You knew Peter always had trouble with having self confidence, years of believing that his brothers were better than him really took a toll on his heart. But even if he was a part of three identical triplets, every time you looked at him all you saw was the cutest, most handsome man alive. Maybe he didn’t have endless tattoos like Raul, or piercings like Shawn, but he was Peter, your Peter, and you would do anything to convince him that he was more than enough for anyone, especially himself. 
“Pete, look at me.” You lifted his chin up with your finger, other hand smoothing along his shoulder, “I would never tell you something that wasn’t true. I don’t tell you you’re handsome because I feel I have some weird requirement as your girlfriend to do so, I do it because every time I look at you I get butterflies in my stomach over how gorgeous you are. No one has ever made me feel like you do, bubs, and I just wish you could see what I see when I look at you.” With that you brought his lips to yours, tasting the sweet vanilla of his chapstick as he moved in sync with you. You squeezed your legs tighter around him, one hand deep in his unruly curls as you pulled him closer to you, his hands moving up to find purchase on your hips. He squeezed your hips lightly three times, a silent I love you as you kissed, causing a smile to form on your face at the soft boy in your arms. 
“You better not be fucking over there!” Raul’s voice tore through the moment, the two of you breaking away from each other in order to turn around towards the couch where he was staring back at you with eyebrows raised. You rolled your eyes at his antics, turning around to find Peter with red stained cheeks and bashful eyes before calling back to the older triplet, “Don’t worry, Raul, we’re not stealing your job!”
A sincere laugh escaped Raul’s lips as you lightly pushed your boyfriend away so you could hop off the counter, earning a small whine from him in response, “Come on, bubs, let’s check on these cookies.” A couple minutes later you had a fresh batch of cookies sitting on top of the oven, the smell filling the entire apartment quick enough to have Raul next to the two of you in minutes with an already burnt tongue because he refused to wait for them to cool down. Just as you and Peter had bit into your first cookie, Shawn had come stumbling into the house with his hockey gear, a wide smile on his face, “Do I smell cookies?”
“Only the best. Want one?” you asked, handing him the plate, while Raul complained from next to you that he was just about to grab another.
“Is that even a question?” he asked, practically moaning when the taste hit his mouth, “And this is why I love having you around.”
“You say that like I’m the one that buys and makes the cookies. Peter’s the one that does all the work.”
“Yeah, but Peter only makes them for you. We only had oven baked cookies once or twice a year before you came.”
“Hey! I make dinner for you guys almost every night,” Peter countered, a slight furrow to his brows, “Not my fault the both of you can’t make your way around the kitchen without burning it.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Raul said, snatching one last cookie before heading off to his room. 
“Come on, bubs,” you ushered your boyfriend forward, grabbing his hand as he picked up the plate of cookies, “Let’s go watch Netflix.”
“But I only got one cookie!” Shawn whined from behind the two of you.
“You can get them once we’re done,” you called out before shutting Peter’s door, “if there’s any left.” Peter laughed from behind you, loving the relationship you had with his brothers. Honestly, he didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t get along with them, his brothers were his world and their opinion mattered to him more than anyone else’s. But now that you were so prominently in his life, he could easily say that your opinion was on that same level, if not higher than that of his brothers. 
“Hey angel?” he asked nervously, playing with the strings on the hood of his sweatshirt.
“Yeah, bubs?”
“Are you doing anything tomorrow morning?”
“I don’t think so, why?”
“Do you maybe want to stay the night?” You had stayed the night a handful of times, probably more than you should for the length of your relationship, and everytime the two of you woke up with the most content smiles on your faces, wanting nothing more than to just stay that way for the rest of the day.
“Of course, Pete, as long as I get to steal one of your sweatshirts to sleep in,” you told him, walking over to him and replacing his hands with yours on his hoodie strings. His hands found their way to your hips, rubbing in gentle circles to calm the racing heart he always had around you. 
“I’ll give you all of my sweatshirts, you look better in them anyways.”
“Shut up,” you mumbled, giving him a soft kiss, “I’ve never met a man that looks more cuddly in a sweatshirt than you do. You’re my teddy bear, bubs.” A wide smile formed on Peter’s face and he leaned in to kiss your lips one more time before he was opening the drawer to his sweatshirts. He handed you the one he knew was always your favorite, grabbing his own set of flannel pants and a shirt to sleep in. He turned around to let you change in privacy while he did the same, even though the two of you had seen each other in much more intimate situations prior to this. No matter how many times you told him he didn’t have to turn around, he always claimed he just wanted to respect you and didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable in any way, shape, or form. 
“All done, bubs, come cuddle.” You opened your arms to him from where you were laying in his bed and a large smile found its way to his face as he launched himself into your arms. Giggling at your adorable boyfriend, you adjusted so he could lay under the covers with his arms wrapped around your body. You turned the tv on, scrolling through random romcoms on Netflix while Peter munched on a cookie beside you. One of the things you loved about Peter was how much he loved romcoms, always falling in love with the romantic content as much as you. 
Halfway through the movie and you swore the two of you had eaten enough cookies to keep you full for a week, while saving one for Shawn of course. Somewhere in the midst of things, Peter’s head found its way to its beloved spot on your chest and your fingers immediately began massaging through the curls on his head. “You smell different, Pete. Did you change shampoo or cologne or something?” You couldn’t put your finger on it, but the more kisses you left on his curls, the more you felt something was different. He dug his head into your (his) sweatshirt, mumbling something incoherent while trying to hide his rosy red cheeks. “What are you trying to say? I can’t hear you while you’re eating my sweatshirt,” you teased, watching as his red face lifted up to meet yours.
“It’s yours,” he mumbled again, shoving his face back into your chest. You leaned down again, taking a sniff of his hair and finding it to resemble your typical scent right away.
“Why are you using my shampoo, bubs?”
He sighed, turning his head so you could hear him better, “Cause you left one of your bottles here last time you used it and I don’t know, just missed you a lot and you always smell so good.”
“Oh yeah, what do I smell like?”
“Home.” He answered with such sincerity that you knew this was something he had thought about for a long time. Your heart burst, love pouring out of you in such ways that you almost felt like crying happy tears right there on the spot.
“I, um, I have a candle that I keep next to my bed because I think it smells like your cologne. And it calms me down when I’ve had a bad day and I can’t come see you,” you confessed, hands coming back to his hair. 
“You can always come see me, angel. Love having you around.”
You smiled to yourself when you heard his speech becoming more slurred, sleep overcoming him, “I love you, Pete.”
“I love you too, angel. My beautiful, beautiful angel.” He left feather-like kisses over your sweatshirt-clad chest, snuggling deeper into your warmth as his breathing began to even out. You reached over to turn off the tv, feeling safer than you’ve ever felt with your big, cuddly teddy bear in your arms.
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serenasoutherlyns · 3 years
Text
Winding Me Up Ch. 3 - Frustrated
I've been reading lots of smut, so I wrote some honest to goodness smut. Forgive me if this is incoherent and/or completely unsexy. Also, these two are both switches and you can't change my mind. Idiots, pining for one another but saying nothing about it.
New chapter of Full of Surprises up soon, but probably after I finish the long fic I'm working on right now. It has Calex and an OFC/reader character!! Good times.
It's late here and I need to sleep. Sleep well with Calex scenarios in your head.
warning: light choking, d/s dynamics.
Casey Novak is infuriating.
Alex decided this a few weeks ago, specifically Friday, when Casey had worn a dress to work. A completely work-appropriate, knee-length black shirt dress with a pleated skirt and structured top, but a dress nonetheless. Alex saw her when she came in (almost always a couple minutes late) carrying two mugs of coffee, the skirt swished and the collar shifted as she shared a joke with one of their coworkers.
Alex had been utterly sidetracked at that moment, and got more flustered when Casey came into her office, smiled at her, and handed her the coffee. Alex was sure they must’ve shared some words, but her brain was not in that place, right then.
Instead, she’d been thinking about the black sheer patterned tights Casey had on underneath said enraging dress, certain that she’d seen them before in a different setting. She was thinking about the dress’s conservative but unbuttoned neckline, how she wanted to grab that collar and pull--
But, of course, it had been 9AM on Friday, and they were at work. Infuriating.
---
Casey cannot stand Alex.
This time, it’s a raise of her eyebrows, a twist of her lip, a bite of her pen. She knows she shouldn’t let herself watch Alex work, that it’s a recipe for, ahem, impropriety. Right now, though, she neither wishes to nor can resist the temptation. It’s late, and Casey is getting ready to go home and cook for once, but Alex fucking Cabot (the middle addition is apt) seems hell-bent on making her lose her mind. Casey can’t help herself, she raps on Alex’s door two times before walking in.
“Alex.”
“Casey?”
She doesn’t put her pen down or look up from her work.
“You.”
“Me?”
“You’re driving me insane.”
“That seems like your problem to deal with, Casey.”
“Or you could fucking stop.”
“You haven’t told me what I’m doing wrong.” Alex punctuates her sentence with a small smile, putting her pen down and looking up at the redhead, still standing in her doorway. Casey scoffs, rolls her eyes. Alex, for her part, does not have a clue what could be upsetting Casey. It has been a couple weeks since they’ve been able to get together, she guesses, maybe Casey feels ignored. Their lack of contact was initiated by Casey, so Alex doesn’t see why it would upset her so badly.
“Yeah. Ok Cabot, see you tomorrow,” Casey says, rolling her eyes and sighing as she turns around and leaves the office. Why she doesn’t see if Alex wants to see her, she isn’t quite sure in the moment. Maybe because she feels stubborn, wants Alex to make a move. Casey noticed a few weeks ago that Alex never sent the first text, that it was always Casey seeing if she wanted to get a drink, or, when she wasn’t in the mood for conversation, a simple “Come over?” would do the trick.
Casey stopped sending the first texts, and Alex never sent one. No wonder she feels angry. If only she wasn’t so intoxicatingly hot.
---
“You feel so good,”
Alex remembers Casey whispering in her ear the last time they saw one another at night, when she had her two of her gentle fingers buried deep in Alex. It would’ve made her collapse if Casey didn’t have her bent over a countertop, the cold stone against her cheek, stomach. They’d been in too much of a rush to bother undressing, or even making it to the bedroom. It had been one of those encounters where even the formality of a drink was too much in the way of what either of them wanted (though, if Alex is honest with herself, Casey can have her whatever way she wants whenever she wants, her achilles heel, Alex’s ordinary strength in interpersonal matters melts away when she gets her texts)
“Do you like it when I talk to you like that?” Casey asked. Alex whimpered in response. “Do you?” Casey had asked again. “I didn’t catch that.” She pulled her fingers almost all the way out, then thrust into her again with three this time. Alex gasped at the feeling, arching into Casey’s touch. “I said, do you like this, Alex? Do you like my fingers like this?” Alex let out another high-pitched whimper, and Casey pulled out completely. When Alex sunk limply against the counter, and onto her knees, her body aching with the need to be filled, Casey simply said, “Sorry Princess,” oh god, the nickname, “but you really should answer when someone asks a question. Manners are important.”
“Please, Casey.”
“Please what, Alex.”
“Please,” Alex said quietly, the smallest part of her still wanting to deny herself what she needed in the name of preserving her dignity (dignity that wouldn’t be diminished, even when she was a wet, begging mess on Casey’s kitchen floor) “Please fuck me, Casey.”
“Oh yeah? You want it? All you had to do was ask.”
---
“I want you quiet,”
Alex had whispered in her ear a month ago as Casey sat in her lap, Alex tracing her fingertips up and down her body, pressing harder where she knew Casey was sensitive. A day, Casey had noted, that was exactly a month after the first time they hooked up. Two months of whatever this was, tormenting her. She’d asked Alex to keep it completely casual at first, and Alex had agreed so emphatically that Casey didn’t want to broach the topic again. But, fuck, Casey thought. It’s getting hard to do that.
“And, sweetheart,” the nickname had caused Casey to dig her nails into Alex’s hip, suppressing a moan. “If you can’t be quiet, I will make you do so,” Alex said, dangling a gag from her fingertips before setting it down on her side table. Part of Casey wanted to scream and moan as loud as she could, wanting whatever discipline would come her way, but a larger part felt overcome with the need to do what Alex asked her to, to please her in any way she could. She nodded, swallowing.
“You remember the safeword? And what to do if you can’t talk?” Alex had asked. Casey nodded again, and when her head was looking down, she leant forward to kiss Alex’s neck.
“Hmm,” Alex said, “good idea. But not right now.” Alex slid her left hand up Casey’s body from where it had been resting on her thigh and gently placed it around her neck. When Casey gasped, Alex knew it had been the right choice for tonight. She applied the slightest pressure with the side of her thumb and Casey choked down a moan, eyes already watering from the effort of silence. Alex finally met Casey’s entrance with her fingers, Casey’s eyes rolling and chest flushing from how worked up she was. “I want you to ride them, Casey. Can you do that for me?” Casey lifted her hips up in response, Alex keeping her hand close to motionless. Casey sunk back down, slowly picking up the pace, but unable to get the kind of pressure she needed to get off, an infuriating kind of denial that Alex was enjoying all too much. Casey reached for Alex’s hand, pulling it from her neck and taking two fingers in her mouth to keep from screaming.
The sight was so perfect to Alex, that she almost never wanted it to stop. But, when she could tell Casey’s resolve was wearing thin at the dissatisfaction, She pulled both her hands away from the woman. Ignoring the look of disappointment in Casey’s eyes, she repositioned them so that Casey was leaning her back against Alex. She reached around her waist and entered Casey again, circling her clit with her other hand, finally pushing Casey over the edge, amazingly quiet as she muffled herself with her own hand.
As Casey came down from her orgasm, Alex wrapped her hands around Casey’s lap, holding her down tightly.
“Such a good girl, Casey.”
---
This time, Alex enters.
Another late night at the office has her feeling dejected, disoriented, and hungry.
For what, though. Hoping she and Casey are truly the only two left tonight, she runs her nails along Casey’s window two times before pushing the door open.
“Freak,” Casey says, immediately looking up from her laptop. Alex only shrugs in response, knowing that Casey has grounds to say something like that.
“You’re mad at me,” Alex states, doesn’t ask.
“Did I say that?”
“Fuck Case, I’m not in the mood for playing around right now. What did I do to you.”
Casey looks at her in stunned silence, wondering why Alex had decided that now was the time and here was the place to bring this up.
“I assumed you weren’t interested when you didn’t text.”
Alex feels a swell of anger rising inside her. “That is what this is about? I didn’t text you back?”
“Usually, not speaking to someone indicates that you don’t care about them.”
“Or that you don’t want to come off as clingy. Really, Casey?”
“Yes. I realized I was always the person asking you out and didn’t do it to see if you would. You didn’t and it’s been like two weeks, so I imagined you probably weren’t missing me all that much.’
Alex placed her hands in her pockets, guilty, sad, turned on, and furious.
“Really Novak?” She said, her tone cold and cruel.
“Yes, that is what happened.”
Alex makes an incredulous noise, lifts her head up as though to leave, but hears Casey call her back in.
“Look. I’m not mad, Cabot. I’m just painfully stubborn.”
Alex considers whether or not to accept her apology, but eventually does. She lowers the blind on Casey’s door and leans in for a kiss, pushing Casey down to sit on her desk. She deepens it, her tongue pressing firmly as she feels Casey bit her lip.
So, that’s where tonight was going to go. Excellent.
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homeformyheart · 4 years
Text
cottage by the sea - adam du mortain x f!detective (twc)
author’s note: this is an AU featuring my A-mancing detective in old age, after choosing not to be turned. i hope you enjoy, and i’m sorry in advance for the really deep feels and potential tears.
copyright: all characters, except my oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles  – adam du mortain x f!detective (regina bishop) rating/warnings: 16+; grief, sadness word count: 2.4k summary: regina makes adam promise he’ll watch over their family even after she’s gone and he keeps that promise.
cottage by the sea
adam looked over at his wife’s sleeping form, the bright moonlight casting a shadow over his body and enveloping hers in darkness. he closed his eyes and listened for her heartbeat, steady and slow… very slow these days.
regina mumbled something incoherent in her sleep before rolling onto her back. for a nanosecond, adam thought she might have woken up, offering him a chance to look into her beautiful eyes. it’s been a long time since he realized that just one glance from her with those soulful eyes set his heart thumping just a little faster.
when they started their relationship decades ago, he told himself every day that he could come to terms with her mortality as long as he didn’t take her for granted. that he cherished every moment he had with her, and made sure that she knew she was loved wholly and fully by him. so that he could look into the eyes of the love of his life each day.
despite her old human age, regina’s eyes sparkled with mischief and a softness that stole his breath. even though her movements were slow and her mind wasn’t as sharp as it used to be, her clear blue eyes spoke volumes for her. it was his favorite feature of hers, and the one that he missed most often when they weren’t together.
20 years ago
adam looked over regina’s shoulder at their bundled up grandchild, who was sleeping soundly as she gently rocked him. he felt her heart flutter and knew his was doing the same. never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he would get to hold his grandchild.
“he’s so beautiful,” she whispered, her cheeks pulled back in an ear-to-ear smile.
“just like you, my love,” he murmured back, leaning in to give her a soft kiss against her temple.
regina looked at him with a softness to her gaze and adam was grateful that he didn’t really need to breathe. even after all these years, she still took his breath away.
it was short lived, however, as a wistfulness replaced the affection from before. “i’ve been meaning to talk to you about us,” she said slowly, moving to lower their grandchild back in his crib.
adam felt his stomach clench as he followed her into their bedroom. he was sure he wasn’t going to enjoy this conversation, something about regina’s tone felt… foreboding, even though her heartbeat was calm.
she sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to her. adam fought the urge to insist on standing, which was his default stance in the face of danger or uncertainty and sat down on the bed. regina grabbed his hand and held it between both of hers before looking up at him.
“i know you promised you would wait until i was ready to talk about it and that you would respect my decision,” she started hesitantly. the furrow in her brow told adam that this was a heavy topic that had been weighing on her, and his heart sank.
she looked up at him with a smile, but her eyes wavered with sorrow. “i don’t want to be turned adam. i want to live out my human life.”
adam felt a sob lodge in his throat. he swallowed a few times, trying to will the emotions that were threatening to spill back down into his stomach.
“are you sure?” he asked, his tone even despite the fear he was sure she could see in his eyes. she was always really good at that. he lifted a hand to cup her cheek.
regina leaned into his palm and closed her eyes. “i’m sure. adam, i… don’t want you to have to see me old and gray,” she said quietly. she took a deep breath before continuing, “i also don’t want you to have to watch me die.” regina kept her eyes closed. if she looked into his, her resolve would waver.
adam could only stare at her incredulously. how could she even think that he wouldn’t want to be by her side every moment he could? a lifetime ago he may have agreed that distance would make things easier and he would’ve been more inclined to agree with her. but not anymore.
there was a part of him that had always known, deep-down, that regina would refuse to be turned. she felt being human was a part of her identity she didn’t want to lose and felt that it was her humanity that brought her and adam together.
but he never considered a scenario where he wouldn’t live out the rest of her days by her side.
“no.” his tone was firm and unyielding.
to his surprise, regina smirked. “you can’t order me around anymore, commanding agent du mortain.”
adam felt his gaze soften. “no,” he repeated, this time his voice was gentler but hoarse from holding back the lump in his throat. “i will not leave you. i… don’t think i can bear to live without you.”
“oh adam,” regina said softly, leaning in to rest her forehead on his. “i don’t want to leave you either. but i need you to live on.”
“it would break me,” he admitted, letting out a heavy sigh.
regina pulled her head back and gently cupped his face in her hands, tilting his head up so he was looking at her. “promise me then. promise me you’ll continue on and watch over our family.”
she felt adam’s head move slightly back in surprise and his eyebrows rise. she held him firmly in place, the resolve in her eyes burning an image forever into his memory. “you’ll get to see our family line grow - our great great great grandchildren will get to know you and me and our story. the du mortain line will live on. promise me, adam.”
adam was stunned. “i… i don’t know if i can do that. our family will continue to have each other. for me, there is only you.”
regina smiled. “that’s where you’re wrong, agent. a part of me is in every single member of our family – including unit bravo and they need you more than you’re willing to admit. you’ll see me in them, if you choose to do so, on days when it’s a little easier to live with my memory. just know that i’ll always be with you.”
he was silent. regina knew he was processing; the emotional weight of her request and the implications were not lost on her, but adam probably felt it more deeply. having already lived almost a millennium, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to envision what another millennium would be like without her.
after a few, quiet minutes, she added a gentle pressure from her palm to nudge him into responding. “promise me, adam. that’s an order,” she said gently, with a hint of playfulness.
adam let out a heavy, weary sigh. “alright, i promise.”
every year, every birthday, was equal parts agony and bliss for adam. sharing every part of him with the love of his eternal life and sharing in every part of her mortal one year after year brought him so much joy that he wondered if any of it was being amplified by his hypersenses. he never knew feeling this much joy was even possible.
but it also made him wonder if the unavoidable pain he’d feel after she was gone would also be magnified, hypersenses or not. if the loss of joy would shatter him to pieces. as he watched regina’s body go through the physical changes that came with being human, he counted each one. each new wrinkle, especially around her eyes and smile. each new gray hair, especially after she stopped dying it. each kiss, caress, and laugh. even the tears, although they became few and far between as they got older, because he wanted to memorize every part of their life together.
and of course, every single moment. the mornings he got to wake up by her side. the nights they got to cuddle in silence. the afternoons curled up on the deck looking at the ocean waves, holding hands while balancing a book or a glass of wine in the other. the one thing they had agreed on early in their relationship was that they wanted to build a cozy little home by the sea. he loved feeling as though they had reserved a little corner of the world, just for them.
he kept these to himself, of course, branded deep into his soul so he’d never forget. each night he’d hold her until she fell asleep, and he’d close his eyes and count. once he was sure his count was up-to-date and after regina had fallen asleep, he’d go back to work for a few hours. it was a comfortable routine, one that he hoped would help him after she was gone.
tonight though, adam couldn’t bring himself to leave even though he was supposed to check in at the facility. as he listened to her quiet breathing and soft heartbeats, he knew being late would be worth it. she had fallen asleep earlier than usual tonight, exhausted from spending the day sitting out in front of the house and looking out at the ocean. it took a lot of effort for her to move about these days, especially since she still stubbornly refused to let him carry her everywhere.
he tucked her in and held her until she fell asleep, like he did every night he could, and closed his eyes next to her so he could resume his counting. 20 years feels very different while counting memories in the hundreds of thousands and millions.
adam had just finished counting when he felt it. felt her heart grow quieter and quieter until it was silent. his eyes flew open and he sat up in the bed, leaning over her still body. his heartbeat was pounding in his ears and he willed it to calm down so he could listen for hers. nothing. he reached out and shook her gently as a lump lodged in his throat.
please, regina, open your eyes. let me see your eyes just one more time, my love, he thought, gently lifting and cradling her body against his chest.
“please,” adam whispered as he kissed her, closing his eyes and trying to ingrain the softness and scent of her into his memory.
his heart knew that she was physically gone but he continued to rock her body back and forth in his arms. he kissed her forehead and for the first time in a millennium, wept openly.
* * * * * they all mourned. unit bravo, all of adam’s children and grandchildren, and seemingly half the agency came out in droves for the wake. it took every ounce of willpower, over 900 years’ worth, for adam to remain collected in front of everyone. he just kept hearing regina’s voice in his head, gently telling him, “take care of them and yourself, and you’ll be taking care of me, too.” and he was nothing if not a man of his word.
the renovated farris warehouse had been beautifully decorated in her favorite flowers for the wake. it was the only space in town big enough for all the people that wanted to pay their respects. regina’s dedication to the agency and protection of both humans and supernaturals made her a beloved colleague, much like her mother before her. they had to hold two separate wakes, one for the humans of wayhaven, and one for those that were part of the supernatural world. he was grateful that he wouldn’t have to interact with the wayhaven townsfolk, but he still could only take so many condolences and empty statements of comfort from people he didn’t really know.
thankfully, the funeral and burial itself was kept small and private. it was just unit bravo and his grown children in a quiet ceremony before they watched their favorite person be buried next to her parents in the bishop family plot.
adam visited her grave every day, with stargazer lilies, her favorite flowers in hand. sometimes he went alone and other times at least one member of unit bravo would join him. some days he would talk to her, tell her how their children and grandchildren were doing, including unit bravo. other days he would leave the flowers and walk away immediately, not wanting to dwell in the emotions that threatened to break him.
he kept himself busy and asked the agency for as many cases and missions that they would be willing to assign to unit bravo. he was grateful that his team didn’t complain; they understood why they weren’t taking breaks between missions. they all welcomed the distraction from thinking about regina. the years passed this way, never dulling the ache in his heart but still giving him purpose to move forward, if only to keep his promise.
and keep his promise, he did. adam was not going to let her down.
he watched over their family as it continued to grow in number, a new generation of children eventually helping him overcome the loss of the generation before them before the cycle continued. he learned about what they did in the world and documented it, starting a new family tree with him and regina at the top. nate helped craft narratives and stories of his descendants’ lives in a scrapbook of sorts, doing so without saying anything after noticing adam struggle one day to write anything besides bulleted facts down on a piece of paper.
every generation in his family was different, yet similar in some respects. some turned away from him once they found out that he was a vampire, others were either unfazed or excited. sometimes things changed as they got older and saw how he didn’t age one bit. watching his descendants die before him never got any easier.
but watching them learn and grow and thrive was worth all of the pain and heartache. he would smile to himself when he realized in those moments that regina had been right. taking care of their family would help him continue to live. and he had his team right beside him too.
the du mortain line didn’t just rise again, it flourished.
* * * * * permatag: @kelseaaa; @kat-tia801; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @pearlsandsteel; @gloynporslen; @writer-ish; @sosolenoo; @alyssalauren; @fhauvilles; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @takemyopenheart;
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rae-is-typing · 5 years
Text
Anything For You
NOTE: If you ever feel as though you want to purposefully harm yourself or even commit suicide, please get some help. I encourage you to reach out. Don’t hesitate to message me.
Description: You’re struggling. Between school and the movie making process, your blood is made of stress and the only way you can get any sort of rest is by taking sleeping pills. One night, you take too many.
Characters: The reader, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, the rest of the Civil War cast are mentioned, a doctor and medics
Warnings: Accidental overdose, descriptions of an anxiety attack, pills, destructive self talk, the reader is really mean to herself, hospitals, blood, concussion, crying, self harm, mentions of shitty parents. This one is heavy.
Disclaimers: I mean no disrespect to any of the people mentioned, even the reader. I’ve also never overdosed so this might not be accurate nor have I been to the hospital for a serious injury, so that may also be inaccurate. My apologies if it is.
Word count: ~6k
Your tired eyes leer at your computer screen. Ugly, ugly math stared back at you. You sigh, rubbing your eyes. This assignment was due at midnight. It was already 11 PM and you had barely started.
I’m so fucked. Why am I so stupid? I bet third graders can do better than me on this shit.
You thought, shoving your computer to the back of the shitty hotel desk. Groaning, you lay your head on the table.
My parents were right. I’m just a dumb kid, I can’t even do dumb math problems. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
You pick up your head and drop it back down to the desk a few times, trying to get the gears to start turning. Or give yourself a mild concussion. Whatever came first.
You sit up, rubbing your forehead a little and look around the hotel room you’re in. It was small with a queen bed in the middle of the room. It was nice. Of course it was nice, one of the biggest movie franchises had paid for it. You were lucky to get your own room. The hotel was overbooked, so some actors had to pair up. Your room was between Sebastian and Chris’s room and Robert’s room- three people that would fight (and possibly die) for you. It made sense though, they would do the same for most of Civil War’s cast. But you brought out their more protective sides. That also made sense- you were still a kid, barely 16 years old and already trying to figure shit out on your own.
Kids shouldn’t have to get emancipated at 15 even if they can afford it. You thought bitterly. Kids shouldn’t hate themselves. Kids shouldn’t be this stressed.
You couldn’t do this shit anymore. School was kicking your ass. So was this god damn press tour. You couldn’t get one plain day off. It was always work work work and school school school. Even worse is the fact that you went from an honors student with a perfect 4.0 to flunking three of four classes. 
Maybe I’m just a fucking failure. Maybe I should quit while I’m ahead. Maybe I should just give up. I can’t do this anymore, fuck. This is too much. All of it is too much. I’m never going to this shit right. I’m too fucking stupid. Too dumb to do a fucking math problem. 
Tears prick at your eyes. You hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight off the inevitable sobs. You hate crying, it makes you feel dumb and even more childish. Your breathing only picked up and you began hitching out quiet sobs.
I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t I can’t I don’t wanna do this I can’t do it any longer. 
You couldn’t breath as you sobbed in your hands. You could never catch a break. It was all too much. You had no time for anything else, just work and school. No time for friends outside of the cast. Hell, you barely had time for the people in the cast and you felt awkward when you wanted to spend time with them because you were 16 and everyone but Tom was almost twice your age. And sure, Tom was nice or whatever, but he was also an adult that didn’t need a fucking chaperone accompanying him if they wanted to go down the road to get away from set. 
You did know that stress was going to be high and there really wouldn’t be a lot of time to relax and take it easy going into the movie, but you seriously overestimated your ability to handle this level of stress. The late nights, early mornings, always needing to be perfect at everything; it was killing you.
Why do I have to keep doing this? I can’t do it anymore I can’t. I need a break. 
You sobbed for a good few minutes before dissolving into a coughing fit. You glanced at the alarm clock on the table. It was 11:30 PM. You choked another sob out, realizing that you were definitely failing this assignment. 
Tears stream down your face while you finish answering all the questions wrong and turn in the assignment. 
Giving up again? Nothing new. Fucking idiot. Suck it up and do it, you privileged fuck. Stop being such a fucking baby and maybe you’d actually get somewhere.
You wiped your eyes aggressively. You weren’t getting anywhere by crying like a baby. 
Might as well just go to sleep. I can’t even do that without help, fuck.
You stood up from the desk chair and made your way to your bags. You pulled out an opaque black makeup and looked through it. There was an empty bottle of sleeping pills sitting in it. 
Empty of fucking course. Can’t even keep track of simple things. Idiot. 
There were a lot of stores around the hotel you were in, but it was almost midnight. And as a 16 year old girl, you had to be accompanied by a chaperone over the age of 25 if you wanted to go somewhere off set or outside the hotel. Even though you are emancipated, there was still a lot of legal risks Marvel was just not going to take with you. 
Everyone else was likely asleep at this point. You had to be up at 5 AM to catch your flight the next morning. You could just not sleep tonight, but after that crying spell, you knew you needed to. The only problem was that you couldn’t sleep without help and you had no more pills left. 
Besides, no one would agree to go with you to a store to get anything they didn’t perceive as an absolute necessity. Unless…
You pulled out your phone and sent a message to Chris, someone you knew would be up, especially because he had to share a room with Sebastaian. They acted like school girls when they were together. 
you: hey you up
cap cap cap: yeah whats up?
you: can you come to a store with me?
cap cap cap: it’s a little late for that kid. can it wait till morning? we have to be up in 5 hours for the flight
you: I need girl stuff and none of the others are up
cap cap cap: meet me outside of our rooms seb is coming too
you: k thanks
You slipped on a sweater, grabbed your wallet and phone and made your way to the lobby. Sure enough, Sebastian and Chris were standing there, both in sweats and sweatshirts. You offered a sheepish smile.
“Thanks guys,” You say. They smile back at you.
“No thanks needed, kid. You have needs.” Chris says.
Sure, you felt bad about lying about the real reason you wanted to go to a store. But it was either leave and get a bit of sleep or stay and not sleep at all.
“There’s a small convenience store a few blocks west,” Sebastian says, looking up from his phone.
“Where the fuck is west?” Chris asks.
“That way,” Sebastian responds, pointing in a general direction. Chris frowned, looking down at your blank face.
“Y/N?” Chris asks. Your head snaps up at the sound of your name.
“Yeah?”
“You usually tell me to ‘watch my fucking language’ when I swear.”
“Oh, sorry.” You clear your throat. “Watch your fucking language, Evans.” You say without the usual fervor.
“You feeling okay, doll?” He asks,moving to place a hand on your forehead.
“Yeah, fine. Girl shit,” You duck away from his hand, moving in the direction Seb was pointing. 
Chris furrows his eyebrows, trying to read you. But his small investigation was cut short by a loud group of drunk, and possibly high, men stumbling out of a bar. It was pretty early for people to be this shit faced. 
They were stumbling, shoving each other in a bunch of different ways and laughing, whooping and yelling incoherently. You watched as one threw up over the road, only being supported by one of his buddies who appeared to be as drunk as he was.
“Y/N, stay close.” Sebastian says, putting an arm around you and pulling you closer to him. Chris moves closer to the both of you, covering the side of you that was left vulnerable. 
The group parted like the red sea when the three of you walked towards them. Apparently they weren’t drunk enough to pick a fight with people that could quite literally rip them apart.
You looked up at Chris and Sebastian. Their faces were stone cold, clearly intimidating to anyone that looked at them, even their friends. It was a far cry from the warm smiles they usually dawned. You glanced around to see one of the guys in the group ogling you. He locked eyes with you, licked his lips then bit down on his bottom one. You moved closer to Sebastian, turning your face into his side. He shot a glare at the guy who immediately called for his buddies that had moved on to wait for him. You wrap your arms around your stomach and settled into a nice walking pace.
“Are you okay?” Sebastian asks softly, looking down to you and rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. You simply nodded, fixing your gaze to the sidewalk in front of you.
“That was gross. What kinda person stares at a girl walking down the street?” Chris asks. You knew that if it wouldn’t get him in serious trouble, he’d fist fight that guy. 
The rest of the walk was of Chris trying to cheer you up a bit. He told you funny stories of him and his buddies, of the cast on past tours, and just about anything he thought would get you to laugh. Nothing was working. 
Sebastian held the door for you as you went in. Chris and Sebastian followed you in, waiting for your wordlessly as you picked up what you needed. The only occupant was a lonely, very tired clerk sitting at the counter looking like he was going to sleep for weeks when he got off shift. You shopped pretty quickly, grabbing a few candy bars, a bottled drink, tampons, some generic brand Tylenol and a pack of sleeping pills before heading to the zombie clerk.
“You have to buy Naloxone with this purchase because you’re buying an acetaminophen. Store policy.” His dead eyes bore into you as you pulled some money from your wallet.
You give a small nod of acknowledgment. He rings up the box and throws the Naloxone in the small plastic bag with all of your other items. You hand him some cash and he gives you your change.
“Ready?” Chris asks, yawning slightly.
“Yeah,” You felt the way zombie clerk looked: tired and totally fucking dead inside.
The three of you walked back to the hotel at the same pace as before. This time it was silent. The walk lasted about the same time, 10 minutes or so each way. The three of you took the stairs up to the third floor.
You held the door to the stairs open for them.
“Thanks again, guys. I really appreciated this.”
“Anything for you, Y/N.” Chris smiles sleepily. 
“Yeah, you’re welcome. Get some rest.” Sebastian says, moving to hug you goodnight. You wrapped your arms around Sebastian’s neck and he wrapped his arms around your back. He was warm and smelled like old spice. It was nice and you felt safe. Safe enough to want to spill your heart out, safe enough to tell him what you’ve been thinking, how you’ve been so hard on yourself with no good results. You want him to help you. You want him to tell you that everything was going to work out and that you’ll be okay. But you don’t. You simply let go and hug Chris.
Chris was warmer than Sebastian, and he smelled like soft mint. You felt just as safe. Tears pricked your eyes; you really didn’t want to go back to your room and be alone. You wanted to stay with them and talk or listen to them talk. Just being around them makes you feel a little better.
But you let go. You willed your tears away and thanked them one last time before going to your room, unaware that the two men had stayed in the hallway.
You walked down the small entryway and set your bag on the desk by your laptop bag. You pulled out the sleeping pill, popped two in your hand and swallowed them dry. You stayed seated at the desk. A stack of failed papers sat adjacent to the laptop bag. Frowning, you picked them up, barely able to make out the critiques in the dull light of your hotel room. Red pen was scribbled on a paper that you had wrote reviewing FDR’s presidency.
45%. You had received a 45 % on this essay. It took you almost two weeks to write and you got a 45%.
I’m fucking useless. I can’t even write an essay right.
You moved on to another essay you had written, This was your worst, You got a 30% on it. 30% was the lowest grade you had gotten on something that you put genuine effort into.
God, why do I even try anymore. What’s the point of school. I should just drop out, fuck. I should focus on acting. I can at least do that okay.
A drop of water fell on the paper in front of you, smearing the red ink that covered the page. Huh. You didn’t even realize you were crying again.
I’m just a dumb baby. Why do I try anymore? I should go home. My parents were right about me. I’ll never be good enough, I should just go home.
Your breathing sped up and you choked on your sobs in a weak attempt to stay quiet.
Why aren’t the pills working? I want to sleep.
You fumbled with the packaging of the pills, four more falling into your hands. You throw them in your mouth and swallow them dry. 
Your hands start to burn. It blossoms through your arms and through your chest, moving down to your feet. Your head throbs as though someone is leading a marching band through your cerebral cortex. You wince, rubbing your temples.
The pounding gets stronger and stronger until you can’t take it. You reach for the plastic shopping bag on your desk. You snatch the painkillers from it, rip off the packaging on grab a small handful. Without thinking, you shoved them into your mouth and swallowed. 
You couldn’t breath. They had gotten stuck while you attempted to swallow them. You needed water. You spotted your water bottle on the nightstand. You jumped up and rushed over to the nightstand, you tripped on something. The world is a blur around you as your forehead collides with the sharp corner of the wooden table. You yelp, sucking in a sharp breath. You push your head into your hands, putting pressure on the wound. 
The pain moves quickly. Soon, all you could think about was the burning and the pounding in your head. You push yourself against the small space between the wall and the nightstand, head still held by your hand.
You heard three dull thumps resonate through the room. Then you heard your name. More thumps then nothing. The pain was the only thing on your mind. That and the fact that your hands and cheeks were wet and beginning to grow sticky.
Why are my hands wet? I cry from my eyes, not my forehead. Oh, fuck this hurts.
You didn’t know how much time had passed from the thumping and someone pulling at your hands. You didn’t try to resist them. You were fading. Everything was blurry, the blob in front of you reminded you of your friend Chris. He was a real cool guy with really pretty eyes. But there were two of the colored blobs and Chris didn’t have a twin so it couldn’t be him.
Then you were being laid down on your side with your arms being manipulated. You tried to keep your eyes open but you were tired and in pain. You wanted it to go away. 
Why isn’t it going away?
_____________________
You reminded Chris of a puppy- energetic, affectionate and adorable in a way that only young and small things could be.
So he knew that something was up when you walked out of your hotel room with red and puffy eyes. This was more than pain and your hormones being out of whack. The walk confirmed his suspicions. You were quite- too quiet. You barely spoke. You barely looked at the two of them.
The hug made him want to stay with you for the rest of the night and talk. You almost cried when you hugged him. The only time you ever cried was when you had to for a scene.
Truth be told, he didn’t want to let you go. He holds you tightly, even when you loosen your grip on him.
“There’s something wrong, man,” Chris said after the door to your room closed. “She never cries.”
“She’s probably in pain. We aren’t girls, but we’ve heard how painful periods can be.”
“This is different.”
“Let’s talk to her in the morning, She’s probably stressed and in pain,”
Chris relented, following Sebastian to their room and laying in his bed, He didn’t get to sleep at all. He doesn’t know how much time had passed before he heard a loud thump and a yelp through the wall. He sat up, throwing the covers off of him. That was from your room. He bit his lip and stood up, slipping on some slide on shoes, he went to your room next door.
He knocked, “Y/N?” He knocked more. “Are you okay? Can you let me in, hon? I want to talk to you.”
No answer. He frowned. He tried one more time. Nothing, again. Chris looked around the hall while he waited impatiently for you to answer. His heart began to pump a little faster and something tugged in his gut. He needed to make sure you were okay and you really weren’t making it easy. After nothing happened again, he went down the stairs and to the front desk. Unsurprisingly, the front desk was empty. He rang a small bell they had. A tired young woman came from the back.
“Hi, how can I help you?" 
‘I lost the card to my room, can I get a new one?” Chris quickly lied. 
“Sure, what room?”
“321.”
She pulled out a key and magnetized it. In any other situation, he would be appalled that this woman didn’t ask for his name or even check that he was the right occupant of the room, but he was grateful for it now.
He practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, opened the door and walked in. It was dark, the only thing lighting the room was the lamp on the desk.
He fully expected to see you asleep on the bed and confirm that the thump and yelp was something else. But the only thing on the bed was your wallet and phone. He frowned, looking around. The bathroom door was open and you weren’t there.
He turned, looking around some more. Then he saw you. You were curled up between the nightstand and the bed. Your hands were cradling your forehead in shaking hands.
“Y/N, sweetie? Are you okay? Did something happen?” He spoke gently, trying not to startle you.
You didn’t even look up at him. He crouched down by you, gently pulling a hand away from your face. It was shaking horribly and covered in a red substance he prayed wasn’t blood. He pulled the other one away too. This one was drenched in what was most definitely blood and shaking as well. Your face was covered in it; it was dripping down your cheeks, over your nose, in your hair and even on your clothes.
“Y/N? Oh, my god! What happened to you?” He asked, brushing some hair that got caught in the mess away from your face. 
You eyes were heavily lidded and unfocused. You were staring him in the face but it was like he wasn’t there. Then he looked at your face closer. Your lips were turning purple.
“Fuck!” He exclaimed, patting his pockets for his phone. He stood up from his crouched position he quickly grabbed your phone, opened emergency contacts and dialed 911.
“911, what is your emergency?” A woman answered.
“Something is wrong with my friend. Her head is covered in blood, she’s shaking uncontrollably, and her lips are turning purple, I need an ambulance.”
“Okay, what is your location?”
“W Hotel on west seventh and main. Hurry, please.” Chris begged, pacing in front of your limp body.
“Okay, we have one en route. What’s your name sir?”
“Chris,”
“Okay, Chris. What room are you in?”
“I’m in room 321.”
“Is she responsive?“
"No, she’s just staring at me. I don’t think she knows I’m here,” Chris was crying at this point. With tears steadily flowing down his cheeks, he tried to stay calm for you.
“Did she consume any dangerous substances?”
“I-I don’t know. Fuck, how far is the ambulance?”
“They’re almost there.”
“Okay, please hurry, I think she’s dying.” Chris choked the last part out. This wasn’t real. There was no way that you, a 16 year old girl had just attempted suicide. 
No way. 
But it was real. You were laying in front of him, dying and he could do nothing about it.
Its takes too long for the medics to get there. But when they do, Chris steps back and panics in the corner.
They’re leaning over you and asking him things but he can’t think. He can’t breathe. Everything he knew about managing his anxiety went out the fucking window. 
He ended up riding to a hospital in the same car as you, holding your hand as they stabilized you. When they got to the hospital, he filled out paperwork for you.
Then he waited. 
He was led to a smaller, private waiting room and he sat. And he waited. The rest of the cast came in. Most of them were still in the clothes they had slept in. Sebastian and Robert had gotten their first, awoken by the medics and the noise in the hall. They got in a cab or something and followed the ambulance to the hospital. They just sat together in silence while everyone else trickled in.
Lizzie was crying. Hell, they all were in a state of shock. Chris just sat in a chair in a corner, trying to process what he saw.
How did she bleed that much? Why was she bleeding in the first place? Was it on purpose? Was it pills? Did she commit suicide? Why didn’t I see it? Is she dead? How could I have let this happen? His mind was going a mile a minute, but he sat completely still.
He was obviously oblivious to something because if he had done something earlier than this wouldn’t have done this. He could have stopped this from happening. 
The doctor comes in about two hours after everyone arrives. Its 3 AM.
“Are you here for Y/N Y/L/N?” He asks, holding a clipboard.
“Yes, we are.” Robert says, standing up. 
“What happened?”
“Is she okay?”
“My name is Dr. Ashby,” He began. "Y/N overdosed on drugs. We pumped her stomach. It’s highly unlikely any permanent damage has been done from the pills, but she has fractured a small part of her forehead. We believe that she has a concussion. She’s resting right now. We don’t know when she’ll wake up, but she will be okay.”
“Do you think she did it on purpose?” Tom asks softly, eyes glistening and red. 
The doctor sighed. “In my professional opinion, no. There wasn’t enough in her system to kill her or do any permanent damage. However, if you want a more accurate opinion, you should ask the officers that went to the hotel or Y/N after she’s had some time to recover.”
“Thank you Dr. Asby," 
The doctor left. The sounds of sniffling and soft crying still filled the room. Hours ticked by slowly. Too slowly.
"Are you okay, Chris?” Robert asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. Chris looked up at him. His dark hair was messy and his eyes were watery like the rest of theirs. Chris sighed and shook his head.
“There was so much blood,” He started. “Her lips were purple- she was dying. She didn’t even know I was there.” Robert sat next to him.
“I was with her before it happened. I could-”
“Don’t do that to yourself, Chris. You couldn’t have known that this was going to happen.”
“I know,” Chris rubbed his face, then ran a hand through his hair.
“You found her, and she’s going to be okay. That’s what matters right now,”
_____________________
The sound of beeping and ringing woke you up. It was constant, loud and probably the most annoying thing that you could have ever imagined waking up to. You patted your bedside, looking for your phone to turn off the alarm and stop the ringing. The sharp stench of bleach filled your nose, making you cringe. Your hotel did not smell like bleach.
Something’s wrong.
You opened your eyes, wincing at the bright lights. You brought an arm up cover your eyes only to find that you were hooked up to a machine. A heart monitor was at your side.
Okay. Why the fuck am I in a hospital? What the fuck? Why does my head hurt so fucking bad?
You sat up, despite feeling weak. You glanced around and began to panic, half tempted to bolt. You hated hospitals. That was a mistake. With the heart rate speeding up , the heart monitor followed suit. Your head throbbed from the added noise. Lying back down, you closed your eyes, taking deep breaths to try and think through whatever the fuck landed you in a hospital with this amount of head pain.
I was on a walk. It was night and I was with Seb and Chris. I went to a store. I bought some sleeping pills. I took them. Oh, my god. I overdosed. But why does my head hurt so fucking much?
You tried sitting up again after a few minutes. This time, you did it slow enough and kept calm enough to process everything that happened and why you were in a hospital.
Soon enough, a nurse came in. She smiled gently when she saw you awake. “Hi, Y/N. How are feeling?”
“My head hurts. A lot. What happened?”
“You overdosed on pills and you fractured your forehead I’m going to call your doctor, hang tight.” She said, still smiling.
Okay. I overdosed on pills by accident. And broke my skull. Okay. What the fuck. I could have died. Cool. What the fuck is wrong with me?
You took a few deep breaths as you waited for the doctor. He didn’t take long to get there, surprisingly. He was older, had thinning hair and a small beer belly. “Good evening, Miss Y/L/N. My name is Dr. Ashby. How is your head?”
“It hurts. A lot. My ears are ringing”
He nods, writing what you said on a clipboard. “Do you remember what happened?”
“I was on a walk with two of my coworkers and I bought some sleeping pills. I took some and I woke up here.”
“Were you trying to harm yourself at all?”
You shake your head. Another mistake. More pain shot through your head, making your wince, and hold your forehead where the pain was at its worst. “No, no. I just wanted to sleep.”
He gives you another nod, writing that down as well. 
“What happened?” You ask. 
"You overdosed on pills. We don’t think any permanent damage was done, but we’d like to run some tests to confirm that,” He began, placing his pen in the clipboard. “You hit your head and you likely have a moderate concussion. We’ll run some tests for that too." 
"What time is it?” The doctor checks his watch. 
“It is 1 AM." 
"How long was I out?" 
"A little more than a day." 
"When can I leave?” You ask, trying to keep the desperation out of your voice. 
“We’re going to start running some tests, and once those come back we’ll discuss them and after that, we can let you go.”
“How long will that be?”
“We have a few blood tests that need to be run. Those will take a week to ten days to get back. Don’t worry, you don’t have to tay for those. However, we do have to run a couple diagnostics to see what happened to your head. We can have you out tomorrow or the day after. 
You let out a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping. “Thanks Dr. Ashby.”
He asked a series of questions and had you do a series of tasks, confirming that you did give yourself a concussion. After that was done, a nurse came into take your blood. After she left, you laid back in your bed, the ringing in your ears growing louder. 
Fuck. The media probably has their dirty little paws all over this. Y/N Y/L/N in the Hospital After Overdose. Marvel Actress Dies After Overdose, just kidding she’s alive. 
You sigh and close your eyes, wishing this was just a bad dream that you could wake up from. But the bandages on your head, the ringing in your ears and the monitors say otherwise. You struggle to fall back asleep, but when you do its fitful and full of unrest.
The morning came too quickly. Visiting hours started at nine and you knew your co-stars and likely a bunch of reporters were going to want to see you. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about your co-stars- it wasn’t that at all. You loved the people you worked with, but you scared of how they were going to react to what happened. 
“Good morning, Y/N,” Your nurse said. She was really sweet and wore a smile whenever you saw her. 
“Good morning,” You smile back, taking the meds she gave you. 
“Visiting hours begin in 15 minutes. I know you’re nervous. Don’t worry about any reporters or anyone like that coming in. We’ve made sure that no one of those sorts are allowed in.” That was a huge relief. 
“Thank you,” You’re sure you visibly relaxed. 
“You’re welcome, dear. Do you need anything else?" 
"No, thanks again,” She left the room, leaving you to your own devices. 
At exactly nine in the morning, Chris shuffles into your room with a bear and a small bouquet of sunflowers. 
“Hey,” He said softly. He looked rough. His hair was clean but untamed and his eyes were red. He was wearing a sweater and some jeans. You looked back down at the bed because what the fuck were you supposed to say? 
Hi, I’m so sorry for almost killing myself accidentally. Oops, guess my hand slipped and took too many pills when I was just trying to get to sleep. Yeah, no. 
“How are you feeling?” He pressed when you said nothing, placing a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it lightly. You shrugged, picking at the blanket on the bed. 
“C'mon, talk to me. What’s been goin’ on, kid?" 
"I don’t wanna talk about it,” You say softly. 
“Not talking about it isn’t working,” His voice hardened slightly.
“It was an accident,” You say, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to sleep.” Chris sighs, laying the flowers and bear on a chairs behind him. 
“Scoot over,” He says. You gave him a strange look as he stood above your bed, tears welling up in your eyes.
“I won’t bite. Promise,” 
You scoot to the other side of the bed. He half-sits half-stands and wraps his arms around you, placing a gentle hand on the back of your head, mindful of your injury, and cradles your head against his warm chest. He smells like soft mint. You feel safe. More tears well up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him in return. 
“Did you want to hurt yourself?” He was shaking lightly.
“No, I swear. I just wanted to get some sleep. That’s it. I don’t remember anything but taking a couple pills.” He sighed, your head rising and falling with his chest. 
“You scared the shit out of us, kid.” His voice wobbled, some tears fell in your hair. “God, don’t ever do that again,” He buried his face in your hair. You knew he was crying. You were too, the tears flowing freely down your face. 
“I’m sorry,” You say softly. “I really didn’t mean to.” He didn’t say anything else, he just held onto you. 
Maybe I can tell him. He can help. He obviously cares. He wouldn’t show up if he didn’t care about me. Just be honest. 
“I was doing homework,” You mumble, hiding your face in his chest. If you were going to tell him what’s been going on, there was no way you could look at him in the face. You’d back out and pretend everything was okay. He didn’t say anything. And if he reacted, you couldn’t see it. 
“I’m failing three of my classes. It was too hard to focus so I just turned it in. I wanted to go to bed so I looked for my sleeping pills, but I ran out. That’s why I asked you to go to the store with me.” You sit up and wipe the tears off your eyes. “I took some and they weren’t working so I took more. Then my hands were burning. That’s all I remember,”
Chris’s arms tightened around you, drawing you back to him. “You hit your head. There was a lot of blood, and your lips turned purple. I thought you were dying.”
“I’m sorry,” You say, breath hitching as you began to cry steadily again. You spent the next few moments crying into his chest. 
He must’ve found me. Fuck. Fuck me, fuck me. I’m terrible. 
“I’m so sorry, Chris, I am. I’m sorry,” You sputtered out, clutching his shirt in your hands. 
“I know. I forgive you now that I know you’re okay. Take a deep breath. It’s okay,” He says, running a hand up and down your back. He started to breath melodramatically and you followed suit, soon calming down enough to stop crying. 
“Everyone else wants to see you, but there’s a two person limit." 
"Then why’d you come alone?” Chris shook his head, reaching for the bear. He handed it to you.
“A bear?” A brown bear specifically. A brown bear dressed as Captain America with black dark blue buttons for eyes even more specifically.
“Yeah, I thought that if I couldn’t be there for you then another Captain America could,” 
“You know I’m not six, right?” You couldn’t help the smile that tugged on your lips. 
Chris shrugged, eyes still wet. You leaned over and hugged him again. 
“Thank you,” You say, voice cracking. “For everything.”
“Anything for you, Y/N.”
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