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railingsofsorrow · 5 months

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summary: in which a phone call ruined your day.

... or not, because your boyfriend made sure to be there for you until you were okay again. pairing: s. reid x gn!reader

w.c: 2.1K

warnings/content: reader is reckless and puts themselves in danger (one time); angst; mentions of shutting people out; an argument happens but the fluff comes right after; case-related violence; reader is going through something but it isn't explained; mentions of past bad habits; be aware of spelling errors.

A/N: my finals aren't over but I forced myself to take a break for the night. thus, I'm posting this hurt/comfort blurb. hope you like it.

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“you're mad.”

the day started good. you even got breakfast at home, which is something it almost never works out. but a case only arrived at around nine, so you had time to eat something before leaving.

spencer made toast, crispy, just the way you liked it. you sipped on your orange juice as he took his coffee, hand resting above yours in the comfortable morning silence you liked to partake in.

the day started good.

until things went south really quick.

it all begun with a phone call. not a work call, you were pretty used to those and when hotch called you up to the briefing room, everybody was already filling out paperwork in the bureau.

your mood went sour in a matter of seconds. you think you were able to desguise it from most of the team, though. except for spencer and maybe emily, because emily noticed every eyelash that was out of place, she couldn't even help it.

the news you got caused you to retract back to old habits, shutting people out and drowning in work to avoid thinking about it. you were numb, doing everything on autopilot, but you didn't let it compromise your professionalism. never. that fucking phone call wouldn't make you a bad profiler for a second. you wouldn't let it.

being numb lead you to be impulsive. and you took advantage of that. you'd jump straight into action just to avoid dealing with your problems. just to forget.

“i'm not mad.”

your boyfriend's tone was clipped, short. almost cold, but it didn't got that far yet. it took a lot to make spencer reid mad. but when it happened, and you were the reason, you were always conflicted on whether to let him cool off for himself, give him space, or beg for forgiveness right after you screwed up.

this time, you decided on the former. you don't think it worked that well.

the unsub had a gun pointing at a seven year old child. he was cornered in every way possible. police cars were still arriving at the scene, although five FBI agents aimed at the man, ready to shoot in case he so much as twitched a finger on that trigger.

anxiety ran along the bystanders as they watched it all happen in their neighborhood. you hadn't plan that, in fact, all of you had planned something else entirely. the profile was solid as well as the location and the unsub's endgame.

but people are unpredictable. no matter how hard you've studied the human brain. in certain circumstances, they would be capable of anything. including threatening children's lives.

your boss advised everyone to stay back. that they had it covered. it was only a matter of talking him down, carefully and with confidence.

but the second you heard the sob of that seven-year-old boy, you stopped focusing on the command reaching your earpiece. bulletproof vest and gun set aside, you marched forward, no ounce of hesitation. you knew what you were doing.

“spencer.” you followed him into your bedroom, a tired sigh leaving your lips as you felt your legs wobble slightly. you were exhausted. the day was hell both physically and mentally and you just wanted to take a good shower and sleep for forty eight hours. you wanted to forget it ever happened. you wanted to forget that phone call.

he didn't spared you a glance as he grabbed a pair of clothes to get into the bathroom. there was it. that coldness you hated. it was finally here. “spencer, please. can we talk?” you begged. if there was one thing that suffocated you was sleeping while upset. and your boyfriend was an elite grudge holder. you just couldn't do that tonight.

“of course.” he leaned back from the door just before entering the bathroom. an impassive expression across his featured as he turned to you. you wanted to scream at him. “you've been avoiding me all day, but you want to talk now? of course.”

okay. you deserved that.

did you though? why couldn't he make your life a little easier?

“sorry I was rude to you,” you said, holding back the petty comment wanting to slip out of your tongue. sorry I'm going through something and you're being an idiot about it. “i didn't mean to. I shouldn't have treated you that way.”

spencer's tongue poked around his cheek and you braced yourself for what was about to happen. an argument. in the middle of the night — morning, it must have been past two am.

“i don't care that you were rude the entire day.” spencer clarified as if that would make things better. “i care that you threw yourself in front of a psychopath with a gun, without a bulletproof vest and only your hands to work as a shield.”

“you had my back.” you insisted, recalling the moment the whole team started to shout at both you and the unsub. they were behind you, you had good coverage. “someone needed to talk him down.”

he didn't seem to be on the verge of snapping anymore. his shoulders were slumped. he was tired too. he was exhausted. it has been a long day and you needed to rest. you needed to sleep. you needed to forget.

it had started as a good day.

“we were doing that.” spencer mumbled, softly. he eyed your bitten cuticules, the bandage in your arm and your far away gaze. spencer wasn't stupid. he noticed things. he noticed you. he knew something was wrong from the moment you excused yourself to take a phone call in the middle of the case briefing. you came back into the room a different person. contained. robotic. strictly professional. “why couldn't you wait?”

“it was a child. he was scared.” you snapped, flinching away from him. “he didn't have time to wait.”

spencer pressed his brows together, deciding to not mention the time you did have to do what you had to do. statistics wouldn't help now. “you could have gotten shot in the chest.”

“it barely grazed my arm.”

“that's not the point!”

“and what is?” you yelled back, turning to him, fuming. “there is no point. the boy was in danger. you decided to wait. I decided to act. he's alive. I'm barely hurt. the case is over.”

spencer faltered, seeking something in you that he wasn't able to find. his gaze travelled accross yours in a desperate attempt to make you realise how stupid that single sentence was. one mistake. one wrong move. and you could have been somewhere else instead of in your shared apartment.

a bodybag.

“who called you?” you blinked at him, taken aback by the question. you expected him to blame you further. you even expected him to ignore you for the rest of the night. you would not back down. “i know something happened. someone happened. you're not... you wouldn't do that if you were thinking.”

“so because I'm impulsive one time, you're questioning my judgement?”

“when your judgement makes me almost lose you, yes. I am.” he crossed his arms, licking his lips as he studied you. profiled you. you fucking hated him right now. you wanted to rip his brains out.

“there was an entire team aiming at the guy, spencer.” you scoffed, pressing a thumb against your forehead, a headache brewing. your will to argue has vanished. you just wanted to sleep.

“you were blocking our aim.”

“can you stop?”

“no.”

you no longer had control of your emotions as your sight begins to be blurred by tears. fuck, I can't do this.

the room became silent. as if hearing your inner turmoils, spencer paused. he thought it through, any possibility that might have caused your sudden mood change. your impulsiveness. he thought he had done something, but by your reaction it wasn't that. it wasn't him.

it all shifted after that phone call.

you didn't retract when he approached. you didn't reject his touch or pushed him away. but you remained frozen, locked up in your own cage.

“do you want to talk about it?”

it had started as a good day.

you stood up, brushing your strands behind your ears and swallowing up the feeling of something permanently lodged in your throat.

you didn't turn to watch his expression faltering in disappointment. you didn't had the guts to see it.

“no.” you said. “i'm fine. I'm going to take a shower. I'm tired.” you left to your shared bedroom without a goodnight, knowing it would be pointless since you'd be sleeping alone tonight.

sleeping was a strong word. you closed your eyes, pressing your eyelids so tight that you're seeing stars. tossing and turning for around one hour in an empty bed was enough to leave you upset. the weight of the day and the argument you had with your boyfriend taking a toll on you.

maybe you hadn't been fair to spencer. it's not like he did anything to force your sudden mood change; he had absolutely nothing to do with it, actually. he wasn't responsible for that phone call, he wasn't the person at the other line whose voice you didn't want to hear ever again. he was just the one at the receiving end of your irritability.

your boyfriend, he wasn't one to pry. to force you to speak of things that made you uncomfortable. things you weren't ready to discuss yet. he was the kind of person who would ask if everything was alright and he would make sure you knew you had a shoulder to cry on and a ear to vent if necessary.

spencer was caring and respectful. he knew you needed space just as he did at some moments. so much so that he wasn't sleeping on the couch because he was mad at you — though you had been rude for that to be case — but because being around him, or anyone for that matter, would only set you off.

his curled up frame on the couch, half covered by the blanket and half uncovered to the night air. curls splattered around the pillow he stole from your bedroom when you were still in the bathroom. you wanted to bury yourself into his arms and never leave him again. you wanted his warmth all over you.

standing on the entrance of the living room, you watched his eyelids move incessantly. it was what told you he wasn't in a deep sleep.

he was pretending to be sleeping and you knew he was aware of your watchful eyes.

“i'm sorry.”

you mumbled into the uncomfortable silence, scratching your arm beneath the bandage in nervousness. shifting into your feet, you contemplated approaching him, but remained in the spot.

he peaked at you as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room. he moved to a sitting position, outstretching a hand in your direction. an invitation.

“c'me here.”

you didn't need to be told twice.

“i'm sorry I was rude to you, I didn't mean it. you were just there and I—” he shushed your ramble with a kiss to your temple, arms squeezing you against him the way you craved in bed a few minutes ago. “i'm sorry, spencer. please don't be mad at me.” the last part you let out in a soft whisper but it only made him pull you closer as a form of comfort, to erase the pain you were feeling.

spencer cupped your cheeks so you would look at him “i'm not mad.” he promised, thumb grazing your face lovingly. “i just thought you needed space, but I promise I'm not mad, okay?”

you nodded with your lips trembling slightly. you were fairly certain that if you were to speak anything right now you'd burst into tears immediately.

you did manage to let out i don't want space, I want you. because it was all that you needed right now. always.

he kissed every teardrop that slipped out after that, bringing you closer to lay on his chest as he rested his back against the arm of the couch.

“i'm here, baby.” he whispered, fingers dancing across your arms. “always.”

you turned on his hold to be face to face with him, lifting one hand to touch the side of his face, caressing his jaw where you felt the growing stubble on his chin.

“thank you.” you said, smiling faintly when he pecked the tip of your nose.

he ended up covering the both of you with the spare blanket.

he breathed out as if pretty satisfacted with your current position, even though you both will most certainly be complaining of backache as soon as you wake up tomorrow. “i love you.” he let out, not minding about the pain in his joints in the morning. the only thing that mattered was you in his arms, safe and sound.

the day started good, until a phone call ruined it completely.

or not. because spencer was there and he kind of made things bearable. and if he could just make you feel better for a little while, that's what he would do.

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taglist: @lilyviolets

#reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 6 months

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i can’t close my eyes alone ; satoru gojo

synopsis; arguing with satoru is always exhausting. bitter and spiteful, you leave him in the bedroom and go find another place to sleep; your couch would be the obvious choice, but where’s the fun in that?

word count; 4.2k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, f!reader (he calls you ’stubborn girl’ n ’pretty girl’ but other than that it’s gn!!), toru and reader have a fight, reader sleeps in the bathtub (don’t ask it came to me in a vision), hurt/comfort, he's doing his best :<, fluff!!

a/n; smth abt …. arguing w satoru gojo ……. idk why the concept has possessed me in the way that it has i just think hurt/comfort w toru is <33

okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.

in your defense, you weren’t exactly thinking straight; fueled by spite, eager to get far away, and admittedly a little curious as to how it would feel, the decision was made almost purely on impulse. and stupidity, probably.

it’s not comfortable at all.

maybe it could be. maybe if you had just a couple more pillows, a fluffier blanket with a cozier texture. maybe if you had something soft to put beneath you, another blanket or a comforter or — whatever. maybe if you had a warm cup of tea to drink. maybe if you had something warm to hug to sleep.

or someone.

(aw, what’s wrong? can’t sleep without me after all, huh?)

— nope. you are not going back there.

just the thought of how smug he’d get makes you bite the inside of your cheek, increasing your already growing frustrations. in desperate search of a more comfortable position, you nuzzle further into the pillow, but nothing works.

your limbs feel stiff, and your bones can’t seem to relax, a discomforting numbness seeping into your spine. and it’s cold. the feeling of porcelain against your skin keeps you tossing and turning, akin to an icy winter breeze, caressing the apple of your cheek.

still, there’s simply no other option. under absolutely no circumstances can you turn back now. not when you’ve come this far, when you can almost begin to sense an inkling of sleep’s familiar call, the drowsy flutter of your eyelashes.

it takes time, and perseverance — but eventually, the road to sleep does seem to brighten on the horizon. crawling closer and closer, lulling you into its embrace, while all you can do is lie there. completely at its mercy, exhaustion ghosting your subconscious, eyelids ripe with fatigue.

slowly but surely, your consciousness begins to fade. tenderly, soothingly, like a curtain over your eyes being slowly unveiled. you can almost taste it, on the tip of your tongue; sleep is only a moment away.

soon, you’ll fall into that cozy abyss. and then you’ll open your eyes, and the morning sun will greet you. it’ll be a new day, a better day.

so you keep your eyes closed, and sink a little further into the plush of your pillow, and —

the light flickers on.

in the state you’re in, tiptoeing on the edge between dreams and reality, so tantalizingly close to falling asleep, the brightness is positively grating. even through your shut eyes, it invades your senses — a glow so irritating it’s startling. the bathroom lights mock you with their shine, illuminating your figure, curled up in the tiny bathtub.

the whine you let out is involuntary, coaxed out from deep within your throat, as the uncomfortable sensation rouses you from your would-be slumber.

satoru raises an unimpressed eyebrow, where he stands by the door.

chest bare, wearing only a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts, he looks at you with tired eyes. exasperation painted onto his dishevelled features. then he clicks his tongue, voice raspy and rich with fatigue.

”you’re ridiculous.”

the judgemental tilt of his voice only makes the annoyance in your veins bubble up once more, just when it was finally about to dwindle. eyes squeezed shut to escape the burn of the artificial light, you let out a sharp wince, burrowing your face deeper into the pillow.

”turn it off!”

ignoring your angry plea, satoru makes his way over to you. with long, slow strides, vaguely uncoordinated steps. just a little clumsy. he plops down on the edge of the bathtub, and gazes down at you.

you’re lying on your side, arms wrapped around a fluffy cushion, knees against your chest. under the illumination of the bathroom lights, he can see you clearly; messy hair that he yearns to ruffle, a crease between your brows that he yearns to smooth away.

you look awfully uncomfortable, to no one’s surprise. he isn’t sure what else you were expecting.

despite the sting of the bright lights, you force your eyes open — only to give satoru a halfhearted glare, an attempt at appearing intimidating. though you somehow doubt it’ll work.

resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, satoru tilts his head. soft locks of white hair follow the movement, falling over his eyes, a little more tousled than usual. like he’s been tossing and turning, sprawled out on the bedroom mattress.

and, just like you suspected, the dirty look you send his way doesn’t seem to scare him off. not even in the slightest. if anything, you think you catch a flicker of lazy amusement dancing through his eyes. and it irks you, it does — an itch beneath your skin, a taste of irritation on your tongue.

because satoru is looking at you like you’re somehow in the wrong, here, like you’re the one acting out. as if he isn’t the reason you’re here in the first place.

at this point, you barely even remember what the fight was about. too sleep-deprived to recall it properly, too stressed to make a genuine attempt. all you remember is getting ready for bed, and the familiar sensation of frustration prickling your skin. you remember his pretty little grin, his teasing remarks and refusal to take you seriously.

remember the way he laughed, when you told him what was bothering you; the crinkle of his eyes, the warmth of his hands reaching over to squish your cheeks. a little patronizing.

(there was no malicious intent behind it, that much you know. he probably just wanted to lighten the mood. but it irked you, all the same. hurt you, maybe. just a little bit.)

then you remember storming out. grabbing a blanket and pillow and telling him to sleep on his own, if that’s how he was going to be. the words felt cold as they left your mouth, little breathy icicles. and then you left.

which is why you’re here, right now. curled up in your goddamn bathtub, for some reason that still escapes you, trying desperately to get even a wink of sleep without your boyfriend there to help.

and that’s also why satoru is here, back a tad slouched as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, looking at you like you’re some misbehaving cat. blinking slowly, drowsily, dragged down by the fatigue clinging to his eyelashes.

(he can’t sleep, either.)

”you’re really gonna sleep in there?” he sighs, after a moment’s pause. any honest concern in his voice is almost entirely overshadowed by the sense of admonition that follows it.

a scoff falls from your lips, sharp like a razorblade. ”yes,” you deadpan, shifting to lie on your stomach, hiding away from his insistent view. ”i was sleeping just fine before you barged in here.”

satoru shoots you a look, thoroughly unimpressed, entirely unconvinced of your blatant lie. ”you’re being dumb,” he huffs. ”at least sleep on the couch.”

”i don’t wanna hear that from you,” comes a hiss, low and disgruntled. a growing irritation. ”and i’m comfortable where i am.”

another dissatisfied huff. why are you being so irrational? he just doesn’t get it. scrambling for excuses, satoru tries his hand at another tactic.

”you’ll hurt your back.”

another little scoff. oh, so now he suddenly cares? you can’t believe him.

”so what?”

a moment passes. satoru bites his lip, teeth sinking softly into the flesh; a little pang of ache, but it’s nothing compared to the twist of discomfort in his chest. you’re making this more difficult than it has to be, he thinks. always so stubborn.

what is he supposed to say? how is he supposed to convince you to come back to bed, when you’re already so set on denying him?

god, he’s tired. he just wants to sleep, close his jaded eyes. just wants to not have to think, for a couple hours, curled up with the only person who makes him feel safe. just wants to dream in soft shapes.

but if you aren’t there, then…

a deep sigh. weary, annoyed. ”c’mon,” he coaxes, blinking sluggishly. ”you know you won’t be able to fall asleep without me. can’t we just make up already?”

your nails dig into the fabric of your blanket. every word he says only seems to deepen the sense of irritation plaguing your sleep-deprived mind.

it makes you want to shut him out, bury your head in the soft sheets and forget about everything else. he keeps acting like you’re just overreacting, like you wanted to have an argument. like he wasn’t the one who made you upset and then laughed at you about it.

”i don’t need you to fall asleep,” you grumble, muffled by the pillow in your grasp, arms tightening around it. nuzzling deeper into the soft velvet comfort.

satoru’s fingers twitch, as if urging him to pull you close. he almost glares at the cushion in your arms, that you’re hugging so fondly, putting all your body weight on — snuggling into it in search of comfort and warmth.

(that should be his chest.)

the gears in his head turn, slowly and mechanically, as he brings a hand up to card through his hair.

satoru hates seeing you so upset, so far away from him. having to watch you close yourself off, not allowing him to be near, soothe you and take care of you. kiss all your worries away. that’s all he wants to do, everything he needs to keep himself whole, to keep himself from being devoured by an exhaustion he’s lived with for as long as he can remember.

a strong frustration gnaws at his conscience. a certain desperation.

a big, heavy sigh leaves his lips. it bounces off the walls of the bathroom, the white tiles and shiny mirror, as he drags it out. almost childishly. then he’s angling his body to face you properly, big hands resting on his knees, a determined gaze set on your figure.

”look, i’m sorry,” he starts, rigid and earnest. blinking once, twice, chasing away the drowsy weight of his eyelids. ”i shouldn’t have laughed.”

your ears perk up.

shifting to your side as if hoping to hear him better, you peek up at him through half-lidded eyes. almost in disbelief, a kind of hope sprouting in the corners of your dilated pupils.

is he genuinely going to apologize, you wonder? admit that he was in the wrong? does he actually feel bad?

a moment passes. slow, drawn out, until satoru’s voice spills into the air again.

”there. i apologized,” he exhales, a little gruff. annoyed. ”now will you please just come to bed?”

…

wow.

okay, nevermind. you hope the ceiling fan falls on him.

beneath your skin, a mellow kind of anger bubbles up, blood slowly coming to a boiling point. he’s not sorry at all. of course he isn’t. you were stupid to think he’d actually give you a sincere apology, stupid to think he’d do the one thing that would actually make you want to fall back into his comforting embrace. stupid, stupid.

clenching your teeth, nails digging into the velvet fabric of the pillow, your eyelids flutter shut once more. only this time, you don’t plan on opening them again — at least not until morning comes. not until you see the sunkissed tiles of the bathroom, until the ache inside your chest has passed.

”satoru,” you enunciate, frigid and final. ”just let me sleep. we can talk tomorrow.” a beat. the tiniest grumble resounds from your lips, tinged with exhaustion. ”i’m too tired for this.”

under his breath, satoru winces. that palpable fatigue in your words sends a tremor running through his chest, discomforting, a shiver of his heart. you won’t look at him anymore, and the hint of finality in your tone makes him feel slightly dejected.

god, he’s awful at this. sincerity has never been his strong suit. he’s gotten better, lately, but it’s still so very foreign.

he didn’t mean to make you angry, didn’t mean to upset you. didn’t mean for the lilt of his voice to make his apology sound insincere. but that’s still what happened.

and satoru isn’t quite sure what to do.

he’s tired. eyes heavy with lost sleep, glimpses of would-be nightmares he knows he’d have were he to fall asleep right now. an anxious lump has long since formed in the back of his throat, and he misses you. misses your presence, your warmth. misses the feeling of having you close, the knowledge that you haven’t left yet.

(without you, he can’t —)

a sigh. soft, and resigned, flowing from his lips.

the inner turmoil in satoru’s mind begins to fade, slowly but surely, smoothed away by the sight of you. bundled up in a blanket too small to cover you properly, lying in that cold and cramped bathtub, discomfort evident in your features. sadness dripping from the bitter words you grace him with.

so out of reach, too far for him to follow, a boundary he wants to cross more than anything. but something about that meek expression makes him falter, makes his heart twist and turn inside his ribcage.

(he knows that you’re tired, too.)

so satoru swallows his pride.

the words are spoken in a whisper, hushed, through a voice so low you wouldn’t hear it if the silence of the bathroom wasn’t so suffocating. a soft lilt of his voice, bare and raw. meek, in a way that makes him want to crawl under a rock and die. but it’s there, and he lets you hear it; that soft little truth.

”… i can’t sleep without you.”

satoru doesn’t look at you. his confession rings in your ears, laced together with a softness you’ve come to associate with warm spring mornings and rooms so dark you can’t see his face. moments in which satoru feels safe. safe enough to be sincere.

— inevitably, your heart begins to soften.

(he’s trying. it’s difficult for him, but he’s really trying. sincerity and honesty are things that have been used against him all his life, so it’s no wonder he’d be scared.)

it’s very hard to stay mad at him, when he sounds like that. when his words come out sounding a little too much like a plea, a silent call for help.

with hesitance, you allow your eyes to flutter open, shifting a little to get a better look at him. he’s there, staring into space — the man you’ve grown to love so dearly. his tousled white hair, those slightly forlorn eyes. the vague darkness beneath them, slightly puffy skin. that tired, tired expression.

satoru taps the edge of the tub with the pads of his fingers, absentmindedly. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over.

then, at last, he meets your gaze. and you think he swallows down a gulp, before smiling — it’s a pretty smile, somewhat tiny. a little sheepish, but awfully sincere. awfully satoru.

he tilts his head, gazing into your eyes with a tenderness that melts your heart to the marrow.

”… please?”

a second passes. then two.

soft and melodic, your heartbeat resounds in your ears, akin to a lullaby. like the call of a siren, coaxing you into giving in. and you’re weak, you realize, so very weak. just a smile and a tilt of his head, and you’re rendered utterly helpless.

(he’s just too pretty.)

without fully realizing it yourself, you’ve begun to move, dragging yourself up with sluggish motions. blanket still draped over your shoulders, and pillow snug against your chest, you blink. drowsily, slowly. a little meekly.

and satoru brightens.

it’s visible, in the way he physically perks up, back straightening, smile finally reaching his aquamarine eyes. a blend between hope and affection sprouts in them, slathered over with something honeyed.

a soft grin blooms on his lips, and he opens his arms wide — silently beckoning you to fall into his embrace. a raspy coo tiptoes on his tongue.

”c’mere.”

before you can make a move to do so, satoru leans over. scooping you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing, tucking you into his warm embrace. smothering you in his cushiony chest.

almost instinctively, your arms go to wrap around his neck, cheek smushed against the warm skin of his shoulder. if you strain your ears, you think you can hear the soft patter of his heartbeat. he smells of the tiramisu you ate before going to bed, and just a hint of expensive cologne. he smells of comfort.

satoru is soft, and warm, and everything you need right now. lulling you back into that cozy, sleepy state. your very own personal dose of melanin.

with a big palm on the small of your back, satoru keeps you pressed up against his chest, as if you could change your mind and try to escape at any moment. he stands up, still holding you, and hikes your legs around his waist. breathing out a satisfied hum, before turning on his heel.

satoru smiles, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. ”let’s get you back to bed, baby.”

after turning the bathroom lights off, he begins to walk to your shared bedroom, still carrying you with one arm. always so strong and reliable. you know for a fact that he’s not going to drop you, so you opt to close your tired eyes; stretching out your limbs, lazily, releasing a quiet yawn that makes his lips curl up.

despite your lingering frustration, you find yourself nuzzling into the crook of his neck — and satoru coos, so painfully soft that you barely even hear it. the restlessness inside his own chest washed away, by the familairity of your body against his.

and before you know it, he’s dropped you down on the mattress. gently, but still enough to make you feel a little jostled, so close to falling asleep in his arms. he drags the blanket up to cover you, tucking you in; this one is bigger, with a fluffier texture, enough to cover you both with ease.

smiling softly at the sight of you all cozy, content in the knowledge that you’re finally comfortable, satoru crawls beneath the blanket and takes his rightful place beside you. eyes crinkled at the corners, rich with affection.

two strong arms reach around your waist, to pull you flush against him, until your head meets his chest and you can hear the soft thrumming of his heartstrings. then he sighs, in pure bliss, thoroughly content. melting into your embrace, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head, nuzzling into the warmth that seeps from your body to his.

he runs his big hands down your back, affectionately, rubbing circles into your skin. coaxing you into melting a little, too.

”see, isn’t this much better?” he smiles, a little cheeky. such a tease.

”… the bathtub was fine.”

a chuckle rumbles through his chest, rich with fondness. his hand goes to card through your hair, nimble fingers smoothing down your scalp and running through the soft strands. every touch gentle, full of care. every word soaked in a syrupy sweetness.

”stubborn girl.”

despite your best wishes, you’re too tired to bite back the blissful sigh that leaves your lips. a part of you still wants to protest, to push him away —

but then you start leaning into his touch. helpless to his warm hands, his soothing voice. satoru is just a little too good at making you melt. so good that you finally begin to let your guard down, nuzzling into his bare skin, sinking a little further into the mattress.

and satoru stifles a coo.

”honestly,” he sighs, equal parts exasperated and amused. ”sleeping in the bathtub… you’re so silly.”

before you have a chance to respond, he’s pulling back — ever so slightly, just to get a better look at your face. arms looped around his neck, you blink up at him with droopy eyes, and he can’t resist the dopey grin that sneaks its way onto his lips. doesn’t even begin to try, when you look so unbearably sweet.

unable to stop himself, he broaches the distance between you, leaning close to kiss the top of your nose. and you squeeze your eyes shut at the gesture, face scrunching up, but it only makes him chuckle. smiling, honey-sweet, he admires your sleepy pout. soaks up every soft little grumble that slips from your lips.

his hand comes to cradle your cheek, thumb smoothing down your cheekbone. just gazing at you, taking you in, every single contour of your face. there is only adoration in his eyes. something silently delighted, that seeps into his words, his raspy voice.

”my pretty, pretty girl.”

a heat rushes to your cheeks. looking up at him, into those lovesick eyes, you can’t help but grow flustered.

he looks so content.

all you manage is a weak furrow of your brows, pressing a palm against his bare skin. softly, as if pushing him away, forehead meeting his chest with a soft bonk. hiding away, so he won’t see how much his words affect you.

”lemme sleep, toru…” you mumble, stifling a yawn.

unfortunately, your boyfriend is not one to give in so easily. before long, his fingertips are trailing across the skin of your jaw, coaxing you into lifting your chin. and you’re too sleepy to resist — practically melting, as he begins to smear openmouthed kisses all over your face. all you can do is close your eyes, attempting to ignore the sound of his exaggerated mwahs, frowning in a silent disapproval that you know you don’t actually mean.

satoru notices it, though. he always does.

”you still mad at me, baby?” he asks, in a way that sounds a little like he’s cooing at you. there’s a teasing tilt to his voice, but it’s also a genuine question. your frown deepens.

averting your gaze with a soft huff, even as he cradles your jaw with his slender fingers, a pout plays at your lips. under his kind eyes, you feel just a bit meek — recalling your argument from before. absentmindedly, you fidget with the waistband of his shorts, hoping to ease your nerves.

despite your valiant efforts to direct your vocal cords in a different direction, the voice that spills from your lips comes out sounding just a tad hurt.

”… you never take me seriously.”

satoru’s eyes soften.

his smile falters, by a hair, a brief stilling of movement. subtle, but hard not to pick up on. there’s a certain sense of shame in his irises, a genuine guilt stirring his heartstrings; several discomforting sensations, gnawing at the bones of his ribcage.

(you look so small.)

two hands reach out to cup your cheeks, big and warm. swallowing up your whole face. and before you can react, satoru leans in to press a sweet, chaste kiss against your lips. he tastes like tiramisu.

”’m sorry. we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” he hums, and you can tell that he means it. ”i promise that i’ll take you seriously. for real, this time.”

as you look into those eyes of his, blue and soft around the edges, the last of your frustration is finally washed away. with a meek downward glance, and a faint nod, satoru relaxes — releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. relieved at your silent forgiveness.

tomorrow, he’ll definitely make it up to you. he’ll hear you out, without opening his big mouth, or trying to skirt around any emotions that make him feel even slightly uncomfortable. smoothing a big palm down your back, he hopes you feel it as a silent apology.

for now, he’ll just hold you. he’ll hold you, and kiss all your worries away, and keep you comfy and warm. that’s his duty. the only one he’d willingly choose, the only weight on his shoulders that never feels even a little bit suffocating. the only one he wouldn’t cast away, if given the chance.

nuzzling back into the safety of his collarbone, your heartbeat settles into a drowsy rhythm, slow and serene. satoru squeezes you in a tight hug, reassuring. comforting.

he can be a handful, and a little insensitive, but you love him a lot. you can’t imagine not loving him.

”… goodnight, toru,” you whisper. ready to give into sleep’s call, at last.

satoru smiles. you can hear it in his voice, sweet and silky, a soft curl of his lips. ”goodnight, honey,” he presses a kiss against your shoulder. warm, his breath on your skin. ”i love you.”

a yawn escapes your throat. ”love you too…” you mumble, sleepily. that one soft truth, before your consciousness fades.

and satoru’s smile only grows. hopelessly, inevitably, in the same way his hands can’t help but to bring you closer. until your heart is flush against his own, and he swears he can feel your heartbeats synchronize.

finally, with those three little words, satoru should be able to go to sleep. drifting off, he can only hope you’ll still be in his arms by the time he awakens.

(then again; you always are, aren’t you?)

#im not arguing w satoru gojo lol . whatever u say princess ! <3 #this is an old piece that i polished a lil (lot) phshdh so the writing might not b anything special but !! i kinda like this toru .#just sleep-deprived n grumpy <33 #gojo has this duality where he can be silly n goofy but then also serious when he needs to be… n kinda gruff….#but then he also has this. Sincere Tenderness to him. that i think would bleed through w someone he loves #hhhhh i love this man w all my heart T_T #usually i make all my fics gn but. smth abt satoru gojo …. callling u his pretty girl………… yeah. sorry. for being this way #me personally i would fold immediately but i respect reader for trying #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you

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becomingmina · 5 months

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JUST HOLD ME. w/ SEUNGMIN.

pairing: seungmin x female reader genre + warnings: established relationship, fluff, reader is called princess. wc: 740+ mina's note: because I’m having a bad day I think seungmin is just so boyfriend i love him sm 💖

other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

You’re exhausted, you have just finish up with work now, an hour and a bit later than your usually time. An hour spend on tidying up your colleagues' work that you’re not even suppose to be doing. It’s that you allow them to use you like that but every time you voice your opinion, you get shut down.

“Don’t you want to be a team player Y/N?”

“Helping them will allow you to excel in the field.”

“One task should be okay to help him with? You’re already done with your job.”

“I’m sure Dylan will be happy to help you out in the future if needed, don’t you think?”

No actually I don’t think so.

All you can do is keep it in, beat yourself up and go about with your day. You don’t mean anything to these people and they shouldn’t mean anything to you too. Work is just work and you should forget about it once you walk out of the office building. But you don’t. Your day replays in your head the whole train ride home. Why do you even try so hard with people who don’t even care about you Y/N? Why do they only come to you when they need help Y/N? Why do you have no back bone Y/N?! JUST SAY NO Y/N?! You’re tired because it’s your fault Y/N!

You finally reached home, your cozy, dim light, relaxing, small, quiet home that you shared with your amazing boyfriend. Normally all the stress would go away the second you land in your apartment, but today it still doesn’t. There was still so so so much tension in your shoulders, your chest, your head, everywhere.

“Princess!! How was work?!” Seungmin yelled from your shared bedroom after hearing the front door open. You find yourself smiling a little bit at his voice, but you don’t answer. “Princess?” He speaks again, now a little cautious if it’s even his princess who entered the apartment. You hear rush of footsteps get louder as you make your way into the house.

“Why didn’t you answer me, Y/N?” Seungmin asked after confirming it was you, smiling seeing his lovely girlfriend in front of him. Even though she didn’t feel and look lovely, her shoulders were rounded, hair messy from her pulling it, lips pale as she forgets to swipe her pink lipstick across like she usually does.

“Hold me,” you spoke quietly, taking off your bag tossing it to the dining table. Seungmin stands in front of you, with his arms wide open. You fall into them, hugging his body so tight as you try to clam yourself down. He wraps his arms around you, letting you take out a couple of deep breaths, taking in his sweet smell. He just straight up smells like boyfriend material, you don’t know how to explain it. The heavy feeling from your body’s starts to leave as you fall further and further into his touch, into his warmth. Seungmin always knew how to take care of you even if it’s just sanding there with his arms open, and you appreciate him so much for times like this.

“You okay baby?” Oh, he was so sweet.

“Just hold me,” you reply gently, and he continues to, not even trying to get it out of you but knowing how tired you are. One arm drags up and down your back, just showering you with affection. Your mind starts to go blank now, nothing matters to you. Only your boyfriend.

“You wanna go lie down?” He asks before placing a kiss to your head. You nod but don’t make any effort to move away from his grasp. He chuckles at you, then lifts you into him with the help of his his hands on back of your knees. He walks you to the bedroom, letting you rest ontop of him as he lies down on his back. His hands go back to their position on your back, tracing up and down.

Moments go by and you’re both still the same place. It was so peaceful, you feel yourself start to grow numb.

“You’re going to doze off on me Y/N.” He notices your sleepy state.

“No I’m not, I just want you to hold me,” you quietly laugh back well aware you were dozing off him his arms. “Can I?” You ask, wanting to fall sleep as you feel so comfortable, so relax, so safe.

“Of course princess.”

#becomingmina #seungmin #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin #kim seungmin fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff

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charliesgoodboy · 1 year

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Happy 1k!🥳 Can I get Jing Yuan with the prompt 2, 3, and 15 so desk sex, biting, and begging. Uhh I hope I did this right idk💀 anyways have a good day🎉🎉

★jing yuan x male reader(nsfw)

★genre:smut

★warning(s): domtop yuan, subbottom reader, desk sex, marking(biting, both receiving..i think), begging, reader is a virgin, kinda short cuz im tired but i love this man too much

★prompt(s): 2, 3, 15

★a/n: omg thanks bookie🥰 sorry this took me a while i was watching an orca documentary

jing yuan calling you to his office wasn't odd, but it wasn't normal to you either. you had worked for the general for quite some time and usually people got called to his office if he needed to discuss something important.

but him guiding your hips up and down on his cock in his desk chair wasn't one of the 'important' things you were thinking of. the room felt hot and stuffy, and so did your body. your arms tight around his neck trying to stay on him as he kept moving your hips.

with him in you, it made you feel so full as he thrusted in and out your hole, and what made him love this all the more is that he knew you were a virgin, he knew he was your first and that just made it all the more exciting.

you were already so sensitive to every touch before he was in you, he didn't even have to ask. your legs felt numb and weak, your fingers tangling through his long white hair that you had always thought was so petty, it was so beautiful especially when it was all the way down, or when it flowed through the wind.

you admire your general you really do. your moans gradually get louder feeling his tip rub against a bump that made your body almost go fully limp. he seemed to notice this as he stopped, you could've guessed he was exhausted but then why didn't he just ask you to leave?

he just kept you there and you swear you could hear papers shuffling. is he fucking serious? "why..aren't you moving?" he hung continueing to do his work before he spoke. "i'm sure you can angle yourself to where it feels good right?" you could barely feel your legs, so of course you couldn't find the strength to lift yourself up,

as he was guiding your hips the whole time. "please..i can't move, i feel so numb.." he laughed lightly, and tapped your thigh, "oh i'm sure you'll be just fine my dear. all you have to do is bounce your hips up and down, it shouldn't be so hard should it?"

he could be one cocky bastard when he wanted to be. you sigh shakily before lifting your hips slowly and settling them back down small shivers and jolts going through your body as you do this.

you could tell jing was enjoying this as you could feel and hear his breathes going shakey against you neck as you do this, along with small grunts echoing through your ears.

"just like that..go a little faster yeah?" you nod, changing your position so that your now leaning back with your elbows on the desk, looking straight on his eyes, both filled love and lust.

leaning your head back, you start to move your hips up and down once more, it being faster than the last time. the loud sounds of wet skin against skin starts to return as you pick up the pace,

you cover your mouth your moans muffled as you try not to make much noise as anyone who could have walked by the office could hear your whorish moans as you bounced on your own generals cock.

"look at me and uncover your face, i wanna see your face as you- fuck— do this." removing your hand from your mouth and lifting your head looking back at him, your face wasn't the only face looking cock drunk.

he loved how good he felt inside you, his face was flushed as small beads of sweat dripped from his forehead and his hands returning to your hips once more forcing your ass down harder,

hitting the spot that made you feel limp as before, you couldn't even moan right only a small screech being heard from your lips as the moment he jammed into your prostate, cum instantly splurts onto your stomach your body going limp once again.

he thrusts a few more times before his own semen shoots into you, the liquid felt so good and warm in your hole, a little of his spilling out onto the floor,

the both of you left breathless and tired. you could barely think anymore, but you do know this will start to become a daily thing as he calls you into his office more.

no i will not be checking for spelling errors cuz i know it's cringe asf😭 @gaybitchfx @esthxio @vyloy @reallyromealone / @rome-alone @lostsomewhereinthegarden @secretivemessenger @jingyuans-boothang

BITCH IT WAS YO TAG I WAS MISSING YAYA IM GONNA FIGHT U

#male reader #x male reader #male y/n #male reader insert #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x male reader #honkai star rail #hsr jing yuan #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr x male reader #male reader smut #bottom reader #bottom male reader #top jing yuan #dom top jing yuan

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deanwritings · 1 year

Text

What We Lost

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Request: I was wondering if you could write Dean x Reader, where they are in a relationship but Dean has been pushing her away lately and she is struggling with it ? Thank you.:)

Summary: After a shapeshifter hunt, Dean begins pushing you away, and you can't figure out why.

Trigger Warning/Spoiler in the tags

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: My first request in 5 years! Turned out WAY more emotional than I was expecting.

You drag yourself into the bunker, your heavy duffle barely hanging onto your shoulder as Sam and Dean wander in silently besides you.

The three of you were exhausted after your last hunt. It had been a pair of shapeshifters running amuck in a Minnesotan city. It took you a few days to figure out what monster you were hunting, but after one took the form of you, things became a little more clear. Kinda.

It managed to time it perfectly that when you had split from Sam and Dean, it had slipped in, playing your part perfectly until it had the opportunity to knock the brothers out and take them hostage.

It took you a few hours to figure out what had happened and track the boys down, and when finally you did, it was a pretty bloodied battle between you and your lookalike.

But once your doppelgänger was dead, you untied the brothers from their hanging ropes, their wrists raw and shoulders numb from the hours of dangling, and the three of you carried your beaten and worn bodies back to your motel rooms for a chance to recharge before the 8+ hour drive back to the bunker the next day.

It had been quiet on the drive back to the motel, but you chocked it up to the typical post-hunt silence. But once you got to your room with Dean, you could tell something was off.

He went straight to the bathroom for a shower, no quip from him asking you to join for some relaxation, just his strong back to you as he quietly shut the door.

After his shower, he remained silent, somehow always keeping a distance between the two of you, even in your shared bed. You had asked him if everything was alright, but all you got was a nondescript, "mhmm" in response.

You decided to let it go, your body too exhausted to try and break down the emotional wall that Dean decided to put up. You had hoped that after a good night's sleep, either whatever was bothering Dean would be gone, or he would be ready to open up to you about it.

But neither of those things happened.

In the morning, the silence continued, following you all the way back to Lebanon and now down the hallways of the bunker.

You waited until you and Dean were in the safety of your room, with the door closed, before you decided to take a sledgehammer to that wall of his.

"We gonna talk about what's bothering you?" You ask as you peel off your jacket, wincing at the gash in your arm that probably could use some stitches, but you don't feel like dealing with at the moment.

"Nothing to talk about," Dean murmurs as he moves around you, beginning to unpack his duffle like he did after every hunt, no matter how tired he was.

"Well we both know that's bullshit, Dean" you cross your arms. "You've said about ten words since yesterday." Dean just nods his head, acknowledging your words, but carrying on as his refolds his clean shirts, tucking them away in his drawer, before pulling out his dirty clothes and moving to throw them in the hamper.

You feel the anger rising in your throat, your chest heating up from the unsettling peacefulness of the room. A stark contrast to the rage beginning to grow inside of you.

You take a deep breath through your nostrils.

"You're really going to ignore me? After I saved your asses?" You shout, your sore muscles seizing up with the tension and uncertainty of Dean's avoidance.

Dean sits on the bed and begins to untie his boots.

"Are you mad it took me so long to find you?" You start guessing, looking for any fucking expression on his face, but still finding no answers.

He was starting to scare you. Before you wasn't the man you loved. It was like he himself had been replaced, but instead of a shapeshifter, he was a soulless robot.

"Or because I let the shifter get one up on me?" Your ask is exacerbated, having no idea what to do or what to say.

Dean just glances up at you through his lashes, not even bothering to move his head.

You shake your head, tears starting to pool in your eyes as Dean continues to shut you out.

"You're such an asshole sometimes," you voice is quiet and you hurry out of the room before the tears can hit your bedroom floor.

You hurry through the bunker until you're at the garage, grabbing the keys to one of the many spare cars as your chest tightens and your breathing hitches. You desperately need fresh air, now.

You throw yourself into the car and speed out of the garage as the tires peel out under you from the sudden need to escape.

You don't have anywhere to go, you just need out. You need to breath and you need space.

By the time you return home, the sun has set and stars speckle the Kansas sky. You hadn't gone anywhere, just drove around, taking in new sights and neighborhoods you hadn't seen before. You eventually found a lake where you parked the car and gripped the steering wheel until your knuckles were white as you let out a feral scream, releasing every emotion that was wound up inside you. You screamed until your throat hurt and your fingers cramped around the leather, finally extinguishing the fire of emotions inside you.

As you walk through the bunker again, you stop in the kitchen for a beer before you continue down the hall until you're in a room you haven't visited in a long time.

You open the door, welcomed by your original room, the bedroom you first called yours before you had moved into Dean's. The bed is still nicely made how you left it, but all of your personal touches were gone, currently keeping company the man who had led you here in the first place.

You didn't want to stay in this empty room void of any life or love. You wanted to be down the hall, relaxing into the broad body of the man you loved while he wrapped you up in his arms, his beating heart lulling you to sleep. But that wasn't going to happen, not tonight at least. You were too hurt to face him, and you were too proud to stand in front of a man and beg for his attention or affection. So tonight, for the first time in a very long time, you were sleeping alone.

You curl yourself under the covers and hug yourself tight, despite your muscles screaming for you to relax. You let the emotional exhaustion take over and you dream of a better tomorrow.

The next morning, you wander into the kitchen in yesterday's clothes, grateful for the pot of coffee that's already been brewed.

As you pour yourself a cup, you hear some footsteps shuffle in behind you and you turn around and are disappointed to see the floppy-haired Winchester walk in. You were hoping to catch his brother. Corner him would be a more accurate term. But that would have to wait for now.

"Heya, Sam," you mumble as you bring the mug up to your lips and take the first sip, the warm liquid soothing yesterday's raw throat.

Sam gives you a soft smile as he brushes by you and pours himself his own cup. You wander over to the table and take a seat as Sam stirs in his one sugar and dash of milk.

"Same clothes as yesterday?" Sam quirks an eyebrow as he takes you in. You close your eyes and take a deep whiff of your coffee, letting it settle through you before you open your eyes again.

You swallow. "Yeah, I stayed in my old room last night. Didn't get a chance to change."

Sam frowns, but he doesn't look surprised, which makes you sit up straighter.

"You know what's wrong with Dean, don't you?" You accuse. Sam's mouth gapes open then closes again and you can see him mulling the words over in his head.

"Care to enlighten me, Sam?" You snap. "Because my boyfriend has not said a single word to me in two days. He will barely fucking look at me," you voice rises. You don't mean to take this out on Sam, but if he knew something, you would appreciate it if he could give you a clue as to what was happening.

Sam takes a deep breath, shifting his coffee mug from one hand to the other.

"Look, when the shifter had us, it uh," Sam scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. "It told us some stuff." Sam's eyes look up to you. "About you." He says pointedly.

"What kind of things?" You accuse.

Sam takes yet another deep breath, looking away from you.

"Y/N," his voice is somber, almost broken, as he sets his mug down on the kitchen counter.

Your heart begins to pound in your chest, terrified by Sam's demeanor. First, Dean shut you out completely, something he's never done before, no matter how bad a hunt was, and now, Sam could barely look you in the eye.

Something bad had happened. Something that managed to shake the Winchesters to their core. And that was a hard thing to do.

What the hell could the shifter have told them? You didn't keep a lot of secrets, none that were damning anyways. What the hell could have possibly happened in the few hours it took you to find them.

"Sam," your voice quivers. "You're scaring me." You stand from the table, walking until your in front of your giant friend.

"Please. Just tell me."

You laying across the back seat of Baby, warm tears rolling down your cheeks as you stare up at the familiar roof.

The car smells like Dean. It's the only place you could think to come to be close to him without having to actually face him.

And the irony isn't lost on you.

Your chest begins to heave again as a new wave of sobs escapes your lips, your hands gripping onto you shirt as you rest them over your stomach.

Your fingers tighten around the fabric.

You hadn't known. You don't know if that was a good thing or bad thing.

When your period was late earlier in the year, you chocked it up to stress. It wasn't uncommon in your line of work.

But then you went on that werewolf hunt. Dean had taken some pretty bad hits and you had jumped in in an attempt to save him. Which you did, but in the process you had gotten pretty beat up. Thrown into a few walls, took a few blows to the face. A few kicks to the stomach.

You thought the pain and bleeding the days after was just a result from your injuries. It never crossed your mind you were losing a baby. Your baby. Dean's baby. One you never knew about, and one you never had the chance to protect.

But somehow the shifter knew. When it took on your form, and took over your memories, it was able to read more than just your mind, it also read your body.

And it revealed it to Dean and Sam. It wanted Dean to know what he caused you to lose. Both to lose.

The thing was a sadistic fuck.

Why did it have to tell Dean? Why did it have open a wound you didn't even know you had? Why did it have to make you miss something you never knew existed?

You really wished you had the chance to kill the bastard again. You would have really taken your time, making it as agonizing as you possibly could. Torture it the way it was torturing you and Dean even after it was cold and dead.

Another sob escapes you as you hold yourself tighter, squeezing your eyes as you wish it all away.

You hear the door above your head creak open. You breath is uncontrollable as your cries get lodged in your throat.

"Hey, hey," you hear Dean's voice call out in a whisper. You shut your eyes harder and shake your head.

Please not now. You don't want to look at him. You don't want to see the pain and disappointment on his face. You don't want to look at him and finally understand the coldness of the past two days.

A hand slips under you back and begins to lift you up. You struggle against it, but it's stronger than you, and continues to move you up until you're sitting.

You feel Dean slide in next to you and suddenly he pulls you into this chest, you feel the warmth of his body underneath your cheek, and with his heart next yours, your grief pours out in a flood of uncontrollable tears onto his shirt.

His hands hold you tight, his fingers deep in your skin as his arms lock you to his side.

He refuses to let you go until your cries begin to soften, your breath short and shallow as you feel your heart finally start to steady.

Warm lips dig into your hair, a stubbled chin rubbing against your forehead.

"I didn't know, Dean," your voice is tight in your throat. "I didn't know."

You feel his finger dig into your forearms.

"It's my fault," he whispers, and you hear him swallow hard. "If it wasn't for me," you feel him shake his head above you.

You finally push off his chest, your eyes bloodshot and swollen as you open them for the first time in who knows how long.

You look up at the man you love, your heart shattering all over again as tears stain his green eyes, making them even brighter despite his pain. He's staring ahead, out of the windshield, looking at nothing.

"Please don't say that," you quietly beg. He nods his head and swallows again. You know he's just appeasing you, but that's a battle for another day. For when your hearts weren't broken, for when you could acknowledge what you could of had together without it cutting through you.

For now, he holds you, the two of you leaning on each other as you sit in the only Baby you know, thinking about the one you didn't, waiting for better days ahead.

#dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean fanfic #dean reader insert #dean x you #dean x reader #dean imagine #dean x female!reader #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn fic #spn #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural #trigger warning: miscarriage

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pappydaddy · 1 year

Text

when i'm eighty (j.m.)

tv show/movie: outer banks | pairing: jj maybank x fem!pogue!reader

requested by a lovely anon as part of my 800 follower celebration

synopsis: y/n is exhausted and jj neglected the bike's gas tank. who knew it would lead to such a proclamation.

warnings: tears (exhausted) | karen situation mentioned | the lovely realities of a retail job

navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up

- not my gif -

Sure, Pogue life was fun and relatively carefree, and Y/N wouldn’t trade her life for anything, but it did have its downfalls. Like when you see something you really like and you pick up extra shifts and work your ass off for it, but a Kook just has to ask their parents for it and boom - they have one they barely use or care for. Or when you accidentally spend too much money grocery shopping so now you have to pinch your pennies until next pay in two weeks. Or, like for Y/N right now, you have to work all day, every day because your crappy minimum wage job is severely understaffed and, even though they treat you horribly, you offer to pick up more shifts.

Y/N, right now, wasn’t too pleased with her status as a Pogue. Not when she is standing here, bored out of her mind and swaying on her feet as the middle aged Kook rambled on and on about something. Y/N wasn’t too sure what she was complaining about, truthfully, she stopped listening after the woman called her an incompetent child - which was the very first thing that came out of her pink smeared lips.

All she could actually focus on was how heavy her eyelids were, or how much she wanted to cut her feet off or just rip them right from her body. Or the dull ache that nestled itself right in the dip of her spine. Or how much she wishes she could just smash her kneecaps because, at this point, they were so tired and sore they were basically numb. It had been five days straight of her leaving school the second it was over and having her boyfriend, JJ, drive her to her work (a small hardware store), and then working to close.

She was exhausted, but she was falling behind on her road to buying a reliable car. Not the heap of rusted metal that has been sitting in her driveway for the past few months - completely broken. Luckily, because the owners did not want the possibility of being sued, they refused to let her work this weekend. That meant, once this woman was done with her tantrum, Y/N could get out of there and sleep for the foreseeable future. Well, at least until JJ had to get up for his shift delivering groceries tomorrow afternoon. She just hoped today wasn’t the one day JJ was late to pick her up.

“Mark my words, because you all know nothing, I will never come back here,” The lady slammed her hand against the counter Y/N stood at, the newly hired cashier shaking slightly behind her. “And I will be in contact with your manager and owner for reimbursement for any bills that come from this.” She sneered, gesturing to the empty bottle of antifreeze that was specifically made for diesel engines. That she put in her Land Rover.

“You have a nice night, the owner and manager will both be in after nine tomorrow morning.” Y/N drawled like a robot, ignoring the huff and snarky comment the woman made towards her for her lack of respect. There was no way in hell Y/N was apologising to her when Y/N and the manager were the ones who told the woman and her husband not to get that antifreeze, but her husband just wouldn’t listen.

“And I am telling them about your horrible behaviour towards me-”

“Ma’am,” Their night manager appeared from one of the aisles, looking annoyed. The clock had ticked by to read five minutes after close, meaning this woman was standing there ranting for over ten minutes. “We closed five minutes ago, if you have an issue, you can call and discuss this with our head manager and the owner tomorrow, but now you need to leave unless you want to front the money to pay us the overtime you are causing us because we won’t get paid.” He told her, pointing her towards the exit.

She scoffed. “Of course I won’t pay you people to be incompetent at your jobs. I mean, how hard is it to sell people items? If anything, I should be getting money for you people for the damages you caused to my expensive Land Rover-”

“Again, ma’am, you will have to bring that up with the people with more power than me,” The manager looked completely exhausted and annoyed with this woman. He grabbed the empty bottle from where she left it. “Now, you can either leave on your own or I will be contacting the authorities and they will remove you from the premises and you will be banned.”

He held out the empty bottle just before she snatched it, her nose turned up as she scoffed, turning on her heel and leaving out the door. “Okay, you two go, I will lock everything up.” He waved them off. Smiling thankfully, Y/N grabbed her thin sweater (which was JJ’s) and her empty plastic bottle of water, tossing it in the recycling bin.

“Thank you, Gerry. Have fun tomorrow.” She waved bye to him as the new cashier trailed quietly behind her. Pulling the hoodie over her head, she left through the same door the woman had, seeing her fancy silver audi sitting in the parking lot. From inside, she could see her phone pressed to her ear as she yelled.

“Hey, sweets,” JJ greeted her, pushing off from the wall he leaned on. Y/N smiled, saying a quick ‘see you’ to the quiet girl as she bounded over towards her mother’s car. Her feet not moving, she held her arms open for JJ, signalling she wanted a hug. JJ complied, striding the short distance to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Naturally, her arms rested on his shoulders, enjoying the relief and comfort his hug brought her. It was like every ache in her body left and the weight that was crushing her lifted. “Long night?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She hummed. “Long week.” She corrected him, snuggling into his chest. He laughed lightly, not wanting to jostle her as she clung to him.

“As much as I would love to stay here hugging, we should really get you some food then to bed.” JJ started to pull away. Whining, she released him, the growling and uncomfortable feeling in her stomach too persistent to ignore, but her face remained planted into his chest.

“Carry me to the bike?” Her voice was muffled as she spoke.

“Sorry, sweets, the bike needs gas and I don’t get paid until next week.” He informed her, hands on her shoulders and pulling her face from his chest, just enough for him to see her face. Instantly, he was met by a pout and a whine from her.

She blinked at him, puppy dog eyes in full effect. “But I’m too tired to walk, JJ.” She told him. And looking at her, he could see she was. The eye Bags under her eyes were so deep that the concealer couldn’t even hide them. Her shoulder drooped so much it looked like she was lugging a bookbag that weighed fifty tons on them. And, not to mention, the way her eyes blinked lazily, looking a second away from closing in slumber.

Aside from her appearance, he could tell over the past few days she was completely exhausted. The way she kept falling asleep on his shoulder at lunch or as they skipped their respective classes in favour of cuddles. She only skipped classes when she wasn’t sleeping properly or she was bored. The way she was extra clingy (like right now). Or how she nearly face-planted into her breakfast this morning. “I know, Sweets. But the bike didn’t even have enough gas to drive here.”

Sighing, tears welled in her eyes. A mixture of exhaustion and stress filled her, creating tears. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to waste all that gas driving me here and back home.” She weeped, sniffling as she blinked frantically.

JJ, nearly shitting himself at the sight of tears, jumped out of his skin in fright. “No, no, Sweets. Don’t cry,” He shushed, wrapping her up in his arms so tight her eyes could pop out of their sockets (not really because he would never hurt her). She sniffled into his sweater, tears hitting his sweater. “I didn’t waste gas driving you. I can never waste anything when it comes to you. I let the tank get that low, it’s my fault. I thought I had enough but John B hit a pothole the other day and I needed to go help him change the tire, that’s where the gas went. It’s all John B's fault for being on the mainland and driving like an idiot.” He rocked them from side to side until the tears slowed and the sniffles seemed to quiet down.

“John B made you drive all the way to the mainland to help him change the tire?” She asked, pulling her face from his chest, but his arms didn’t let go over her, keeping her pressed to him. Her eyes were watery and puffy, a red tinge to the whites of her eyes. Her face was puffy and blotchy, trails of dried tears running down her cheeks.

JJ nodded, moving his arms to grip her face, thumbs lightly rubbing the tear streaks. “Yeah. And the idiot also decided to take everything except the jack out of the van so we had to go get a lug nut wrench which ate up more gas.”

“He never learns his lesson, does he?” She laughed. It was wet, her mouth thick from the tears still.

“No, he doesn’t,” He whispered, his voice low as he stared at her. “Now, let’s get you home before you fall asleep standing here,” He stepped back, putting distance between them. She watched with furrowed brows as he turned his back to her, crouching down, practically kneeling on the sidewalk in front of the store. “Hop up.” He told her, arms to his side, stuck towards her slightly, waiting for her to climb onto his back.

“JJ,” She exclaimed. “You’re not going to be able to carry me all the way to John B’s!”

“Yeah I can. I’m eighteen, not eighty,” He told her, pointing to his back. Sighing, she knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. On top of that, he would find another way to carry her. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she hopped onto his back. His hands instantly gripped the bottom of her thighs, securing her there and he stood up to his full height. She let out a small squeal at the sudden change in height, kicking her feet slightly at the feeling of them not being on the ground. It always took her a second to get used to being held on his back. “And even when I’m eighty, I am sure as hell gonna still give you piggy back rides.”

“Sure, we’ll revisit that when you are hunched over because you gave me so many piggy back rides now.” She laughed, her arms lazily moving to rest closer to his neck, her chin resting on her bicep as he started to walk towards John B’s.

“Why do you think I am in such great shape? I am training to carry you around my whole life.”

“If that’s the case, might want to lay off the weed and the booze.” She poked him in the pectoral teasingly. He squeezed her thigh playfully back, laughing as she pressed a kiss to his cheek the best she could before resting her head back on her arm, letting the pattern of JJ’s gate relax her, her eyes growing heavier by the second. She really did hope that when they were eighty, they didn’t lose any of their playfulness - no matter if JJ could carry her or not.

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juyeonszn · 8 months

Text

DIVE TO YOU

PAIRING lee sangyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 2.61k

GENRES fluff ﹒suggestive

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DNI u already know, roommates to ;) type beat, ummm they’re naked, they are in a bathtub, sangyeon is… wow sangyeon just deserves a warning on his own, he is A Lot, there’s a mention of a voyeuristic moment but it’s nothing crazy, he massages reader, they make out, i tease u all bc i’m evil like that

SUMMARY you’ve never really thought of sangyeon in an explicit way, but now that you’re stuck in this position, it’s going to be difficult for your thinking to go back to normal.

MORE SURPRISE ALLY (@winterchimez) MY BELOVED THIS ONE IS FOR U <<<3 i hope i didn’t kill u </3 this is another request from my 100 followers event! prompts used are: 9, 16, 17 🤞

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs

You hated your job more than anything in the world. It was mind-numbing. All you did was stare at a computer all day and type type type, responding to emails or drafting up documents for your boss. It was exhausting. To be honest, you were sick of it.

But you needed it, unless you wanted to get kicked out of your apartment for not making your share of the rent. Sure, having a job you disliked wasn’t ideal, but you were surviving and wasn’t that all that mattered?

Besides, you’d probably die if you were forced to move out of your apartment. Your roommate was the only reason you moved in to the damn place despite rent being so fucking expensive.

You remember the day you stumbled upon his ad like it was yesterday, though it had already been exactly one year. You’d just finished your first month at your job and you were growing tired of dealing with your parents. Yeah it was nice that you didn’t have to worry about half of your current expenses while living under their roof, but you knew you needed to ship up and move out eventually. You figured this was the perfect time to do so.

You scoured the internet for apartments, but soon realized that living on your own would be way too much, considering all of the other things you also had to worry about now. As you started filtering through listings that requested a second habitant, you stumbled upon your roommate’s. The rent itself was a little bit over your budget, but the way he worded his ad had you hooked.

Just an hour later you were emailing him and setting up a meeting to discuss important details. You met up at a cute little coffee shop a few days later when you both found some free time. Being the punctual person you were, you arrived earlier than planned, ordering your go to and picking a two seater in the corner by one of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

You had always been the type to psych yourself up before doing anything major. You needed at least half an hour of prep time if you were making any important decisions, because you could not handle things going wrong. Everything in your life had to be carefully and methodically done. You liked to say you were thorough, but everyone else called you a perfectionist. It is what it is.

And because you didn’t know this guy, you had no idea what he looked like and you weren’t aware that he had the same mindset. You glance up from your drink to see the most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes on walk into the cafe, ordering something you can’t make out. He looks like something straight from a drama, his hair styled neatly and his outfit put together. Even under his thick coat, you could see how well sculpted he was.

You don’t realize that you’re staring until he’s suddenly walking towards your direction, his coffee in his hands. He furrows his brows and clears his throat. “Hi, I don’t mean to bother you, but do you happen to be Y/N?”

Oh my god. No way. There was no way this hunk of a man was your potential roommate. It was impossible.

When your lips part in shock and you don’t respond for a couple seconds, he blinks at you. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that impossible. You nearly facepalm for already making such a fool of yourself before you’ve even held a proper conversation. You stumble over your words as you gesture to the chair across from you. “Y-Yes! Yes, that’s me. Please, take a seat!”

He smiles politely, setting down his drink and shedding his coat. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Sangyeon.”

You wipe your hands on your jeans before reaching to shake his hand nervously. If you could hardly handle this simple meeting, how could you handle living with the guy? He might send you into spontaneous combustion by just looking at you.

Sangyeon had the patience of a saint, and you would be eternally grateful for it. After getting to know each other better and growing more comfortable around him, the two of you discussed the roommate situation. You truly lucked out in finding him, seeing as you shared a lot of similar ideals. He even offered to lower your part of the rent as much as he could, explaining that you were by far his favorite candidate for the second room.

Later that same day, you went over and got an apartment tour prior to signing a lease agreement. And then the rest was history.

You sigh as the clock finally hits 6, signaling the end of your very long work day. One thing you disliked about getting off at the time you did was the fact that it was always snowing. It made it hard to navigate your way home, since most people packed around the bus stops like sardines. You hug your coat to yourself to block out the harsh winds, your scarf wrapped up to your nose.

You were tired and cold and all you wanted was to be inside the blanket that was your apartment, soaking in a hot bath with a glass of wine beside you. Sangyeon was supposedly working late today, which meant you’d have some much needed alone time.

The entire bus ride, you find yourself drifting off and then startling awake when you drove over a bump. You don’t remember the last time you were this drained after a work week. It could’ve been because you stayed over time a couple days, but you didn’t think it would affect you that badly.

When you finally arrive at the stop near your apartment, you’re almost in a zombie-like state, trudging through some of the snow that has started to stick. The only thing keeping your eyes open was the obnoxious chattering of your teeth.

It feels like a millennia by the time you’ve reached your front door, hands shaking as you attempt to unlock it. You’re partly surprised you didn’t drop your keys. The moment you step into your home, it’s like a huge weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

From the lingering scent of your peppermint and vanilla candle to the warmth of the building’s heating, you felt like you’d just been cuddled by a teddy bear. You shrug off your coat and hang it on the set of hooks beside the front door, leaving your shoes on the rack just beneath. Your sock clad feet drag you towards the kitchen, where an unopened bottle of wine awaits you.

You’re tempted to just drink straight from the bottle, but you didn’t want to get shitfaced, you just wanted to feel relaxed. Nevertheless, you pour yourself a… hefty… glass and waddle to the bathroom. A mental note was made to thank your coworker for the bath salt and bubble set she got you as a gift, seeing as it was finally being put to good use.

It doesn’t take long for you to peel off your layers of clothing after you’ve turned on the faucet and adjusted the temperature to your preference. You watch with heavy eyelids as the bubbles begin to form along the surface of the water, rising up and filling the tub. You dip your toes in while simultaneously taking a sip of your wine, damn near moaning at how much better you felt.

You press play on one of your playlists and light a candle before finally sinking into the water, succumbing to its serenity. Your eyes start to flutter shut and you don’t even try to fight the sleep that calls your name.

You’re not sure if hours or minutes have passed since you fell asleep, but the creaking of the bathroom door opening stirs you from your slumber. Most people probably would’ve had a bigger reaction, considering someone just walked into the bathroom without checking if it was occupied first. And also because you had assumed you were home alone.

This was one of the various times you wished the earth would just swallow you whole.

Lee Sangyeon stands in the doorway, shoulder resting against the threshold with his arms crossed. His dress shirt from work is unbuttoned all the way to the third from the top, his muscular frame stretching the fabric deliciously. You wondered how he was comfortable, since he wore such tight shirts. Occasionally you truly understood why the term ‘Take A Picture, It’ll Last Longer’ existed.

You were extremely thankful that you added bubbles to your bath, the foam covering up your body where the sun usually doesn’t shine. Sangyeon has an amused glint in his eye and even with the fogginess of your partially awake brain coupled with the few sips of wine you’ve had, you know it’s off brand for him.

“S-Sangyeon, what are you doing in here?” You trip over your words, wrapping your arms around yourself tightly.

“Well, I just got home and I was planning on doing the same thing as you,” he rolls his neck as if to display his own tension from a long day. “But it looks like you’ve beat me to it.”

You blink at him. Why was he still standing there? Staring at you like… that?

“Um… Why haven’t you left?” You swallow, but your mouth is dry.

“Is there some space in that bathtub?”

He asks the question so smoothly, the words rolling off of his tongue like he’s asked to join you in the bath on numerous occasions. You gape at him, your head spinning in circles. Perhaps you were still half asleep and your mind was playing tricks on you. That made the most sense. Perfect, sweet roommate Sangyeon would never ask you a question like that.

“I’m sorry?” Part of you feels stupid, gawking at the male and stumbling over your speech. It’s like you’ve completely malfunctioned, every logical point of your body shutting down for unscheduled maintenance. You had to recalibrate your systems fast.

Sangyeon repeats himself, not skipping a beat as he does so. You do a 180, glancing around the room as if someone else was present. You jab a finger into the only exposed part of your chest and then at the water with scrunched eyebrows.

“Yeah, is there some room in there for me to fit? You know, Y/N,” he shrugs, going for the next button on his shirt. “I have seen you naked before.”

You nearly drown yourself on the spot. Lee Sangyeon has seen you naked? This was news to you. Last you checked, neither of you had ever done anything intimate enough for that. He laughs that attractive laugh of his, his eyes forming crescent moons. You’re enticed to drown yourself a second time.

“Y-You have?” This was probably single-handedly the most embarrassing moment of your life.

“To be fair, it was an accident. I walked past your room while you were changing once but you didn’t have the door closed all the way, and well, I am a man so, I couldn’t help but take a peek.” He scratches the back of his neck, letting out a small chuckle. Okay so God definitely had favorites and you weren’t one of them. Nice to know.

He unbuttons another button, stepping closer to you, closing the distance between you. He crouches next to the tub, finally at eye level with you. Oh, what you would give for a moment of this man’s time. Here he was, handing you just that on a silver platter and you were royally fumbling the bag.

“So is that a yes?”

You really don’t trust your own voice, so you merely nod, biting back the urge to groan when he grins at you, standing upright. It’s like you’re stuck in a trance, watching him clear the rest of the buttons of his shirt like light work. The sight of his abdomen on full display has you releasing a tiny squeak. Then comes the unbuckling of his belt and that alone is a mental image you don’t think you could ever forget. You dip your chin into your shoulder, looking away when he strips the rest of his clothes.

You feel him before you hear him, his leg brushing against the back of your arm as he slips behind you into the tub. He exhales deeply, exactly like you did when you got in. You’re as stiff as a board, not sure what you should do with your roommate naked and sitting behind you, sharing bath water like it was a regular Friday night. You keep your focus on the faucet, too afraid to make any sudden movements.

“Relax, N/N,” he pins his chest to your back, hands coming up to massage your shoulders. “You’re so tense.”

The way he works his thumbs into your skin has shivers running down your spine, your entire being feeling like it’s lit up. You suppress a whimper when he kneads a knot just below your neck, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip. Before today, you’ve never really thought of Sangyeon in an explicit way. Sure you thought he was extremely handsome, but that had always been just a surface level notion. You’d never fantasized about a crazy, fan-fiction type moment like this. But now that you’re in it, you don’t think your thinking could ever go back to normal. You could never see him as just your handsome roommate.

You have half the mind to scoot into his lap, but it seems like he’s beat you to it, sliding his hands down to your waist and pulling you towards him. Your eyes widen when you feel him, hard and pressed to your lower back. At that, you finally make a noise; something between a strangled moan and a whine.

Sangyeon brings his lips to your ear, grazing them along the shell of it. “Can you feel how much I want you?”

“Y-Yes,” you gasp. “I can feel you.”

This is insanity. Were you still waking up, conjuring up this entire scenario with your half conscious mind? Maybe some sick and deluded higher power wanted you to realize the possibility of having feelings for Sangyeon, and this was their way of doing it.

But then one of his hands trails to your thigh and he pinches you lightly. That’s how you know this is real, this is actually happening. You crane your neck slightly to glance at him. His eyes are darker than usual, a deep brown swimming with lust that almost looks black. It’s similar to how a predator would stare down its prey and it’s a look you could get used to.

Sangyeon’s gaze flickers down to your lips and you just about lose your last bit of clarity, leaning forward to connect your mouths. It’s kind of messy, kind of rough, but the way your stomach twists into knots and goosebumps litter your arms makes you think that the higher being you were cursing minutes ago was actually doing you a huge favor. You’d have to thank them later.

One of Sangyeon’s hands comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone as he does so. Without parting, you turn around in his lap, straddling him as best you can in your limited space. If you thought you felt him before, you definitely feel him now, his cock pulsing against your aching core. Your need was carnal, primal even. He hisses when you grind down on him, gripping your hips to halt you.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart.”

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz suggestive #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz suggestive #the boyz sangyeon #tbz sangyeon #lee sangyeon x reader #lee sangyeon suggestive #sangyeon x reader #sangyeon suggestive #juyeonszn #juyeonszn.100🪩

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allysunny · 10 months

Text

Holo Heart | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Synopsys: Haunted by the loss of his wife, Miguel decides to take matters into his own hands, and grant himself the second chance he's been wishing for.

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: Angst, sad Miguel, mentions of blood, character death, suggestive themes (just a smidge, really), do mention if I've missed anything!

A/N: Hey guys! So, I've been mostly a reader in here, but the other day I was doing dishes and this idea sort of popped in my head, and I thought about sharing it with all of you! English is not my first language so I'd like to apologize in advance for any mistakes. I also have not spoken Spanish in a few years, so, once again, I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

I haven't written in a while, and this is my first tumblr fic, so please be gentle! But I'd love to read your thoughts and criticism in the comments :) I also tried to make this super inclusive, so aside from the reader being a woman, there's no specifications of hair, skin tone, ethnicity, etc. I hope you like it!

Miguel has always prided himself in being a smart man, one who always made sure to achieve his goals, and do it efficiently.

He created the Spider Society, made sure the canon was intact, and carried the weight of the world in his shoulders. It was hard, but he made it work. In fact, he had to. He’d already lost so much; he couldn’t afford to lose more.

Which was why he couldn’t take risks. Every task was carefully calculated, every mission was deliberately planned, every meeting brief and straight to the point. The more time he could spend inside his office, planning, scheming, strategizing, making sure everything went exactly according to plan, the better.

But unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple, and human nature had other plans for him.

All those late nights working all by himself with no one other than Lyla and at least half a dozen coffee cups beside him were taking a toll on his mental health. As much as Miguel enjoyed spending time by himself (it was impossible to spend time in the company of other Spider-People for more than a few minutes before the need to excuse himself and sigh became too strong. Do not let him get started on Peter B. Parker. Please.), he was starting to miss human interaction more and more.

But not just any human interaction.

Looking over at his watch, Miguel registered the glowing light that alerted him of his loneliness once again. 03:47 am. Working late until exhaustion had become a frequent occurrence after the accident. It was his own way of dealing with the pain, with all the grief. It made him forget, and the everlasting numbness in his chest heart go away, if only for a few hours.

Miguel sighed, running a hand through his face. His muscles felt tight, the knots in his back and shoulders ever so present. He slumped back in his chair and leaned his hair back, taking all of the exhaustion in.

“You okay boss?” Lyla asked, flickering right beside his head. The AI could get on his nerves more often than not, but Miguel was glad it seemed to care about him. Well, sure, he’d programmed it that way, but occasionally even he needed a small check-up. It kept him sane.

“Yeah, sure,” His voice was just above a whisper, and yet it was still as commanding and assertive as always. “I think I’m done for the day.”

“Oh wow, you think? They don’t call you a genius for nothing!” Miguel winced at the perkiness of her voice. Sometimes he forgot tiring Lyla out wasn’t a possibility. She was an AI and therefore had energy to spare. He waved her off quickly, and with a small salute, she flickered away, leaving Miguel alone with his thoughts once again.

After a few quiet moments, he turned to the black screens in front of him.

“I shouldn’t…” Was the thought that crossed his mind. He knew it was wrong. He knew what happened whenever he turned those screens on, when he turned them on with the purpose of reliving old memories.

But before he could even acknowledge what he’d done, the whole lab was engulfed in bright lights, accompanied by soft surrounding background noise.

Defeated, he looked up at them, eyes filled with something between longing and adoration, a mix reserved for only one person.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Nueva York, look who it is!” Although the phone’s camera was turned to him, it was your voice making itself heard. The voice he adored so much, the only voice he could stand to hear for hours on end, the voice he would give anything to listen to once again.

The Miguel in the video was dressed in a fine black suit, an emerald handkerchief adorning his breast pocket. His hair was neatly styled back, allowing for his “godly sculpted cheekbones” (your words, not his) to be shown in all its glory. He was standing inside your old bedroom, fixing his attire in front of a wall length mirror.

“Cariño, won’t you turn that off?” He grumbled softly, turning to face the camera. Although his voice had a tinge of annoyance to it, his lips were quick to betray him, curling up in a soft smile.

Your angelic chuckle boomed through the room, and Miguel’s breath hitched.

There you were.

Draped in a light-coloured green silk dressed that perfectly flattered your figure, hugging you in all the right places, your hair carefully brushed to the side. You smiled, positioning the phone on top of your vanity, making sure it wouldn’t fall. Once you were sure of its security, you made your way to him, tilting your head to the side.

“It’s not my fault my husband is so devilishly handsome!” Your hand reached out to hold his arm, nudging him towards the phone’s periphery. He rolled his eyes, pretending to be tired of your antics, but his arm snaked around your waist instinctively, giving it a gentle tug. A reminder that he was there with you. No matter what, he would always be there.

No matter what.

“Don’t you look dashing, Mr. O’Hara?” Your smile. Miguel would give anything to see it in person again. He’d do anything to have you smile at him like you always did one more time. Like he was the only person that existed, that mattered. Your smile had always been capable of lighting up a whole room. In fact, you were capable of that, all by yourself. Your kindness, your optimism, your drive and ambition. People were naturally drawn to you – the fact you were nothing short of stunning was only a bonus. In fact, you had made Miguel experience what jealousy felt like for the first time. The ugly feeling had gnawed and gnawed at him, eating him up from the inside every time a cheeky coworker got too close for comfort, complimenting your “beautiful eyes”, or bold friends pulled you close by the waist, trying all sorts of plans to get their hands on you.

But you’d never really needed him to call him out. You could take care of yourself just fine, and that’s one of the things Miguel most loved about you. Sure, he relished in the feeling of protecting you. Of putting his arms around your figure and engulfing you in his presence, his hold being the only place no harm could ever even get a glimpse of you. But he couldn’t help the smirk that crawled up his face whenever you rejected any other men’s advances, swatting their hands off you and giving them dead stares.

The him on the screen chuckled, pressing you close against him, his frame towering over you. He bent down slightly, nuzzling his face against your hair. Another gesture he did without thinking – it was something that brought him peace. Your scent felt like home, the sweet aroma of your favourite shampoo bringing him instant relief.

“Si alguien aqui es diabolicamente hermosa, eres tú, Mrs. O’Hara.” Screen-Miguel brought his lips to your ear, and the way your whole body shuddered made him chuckle. That, and the way your cheeks took on a soft glow. “Now, what is all this?” He glanced at the camera once again, quirking up an eyebrow.

“You know my Spanish isn’t that good yet…” The pout on your lips was just too adorable – it took Miguel (screen one or not) all his strength not to whisk you in his arms and capture your lips with his. “Anyways, just wanted to capture this moment.” You shrug, hands wandering around to pinch his side. Your husband’s squeal would have been unnoticeable by anyone else – but not you. Not you, whom he showed his softer side to, not you, whom he showered with love and tenderness, whose ground he worshipped. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, you know.” One would almost miss the way your voice cracked, but a slight waver was enough for Miguel and his screen counterpart to frown.

“I know… I’m sorry corazón. I really am…” Screen-Miguel turned you towards him, brushing the hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. Staring into your eyes, Miguel could swear you had this magical ability to make him lose all track of time. In fact, he could swear that was true in about everything you did. When you got dressed in the morning, when you cooked his favourite empanadas, when you told him off whenever he was too hard on himself or others around him, when you cried out his name so nicely, his lips on your neck-

“But today’s all about you, alright? I’ll make up for it. I promise.” His lips brushed your temple, not only a promise to you, but himself. His work in the Spider Society had been piling up. Anomalies on top of anomalies, mistakes after mistakes, and only himself to take care of everything. He’d left you waiting for him more than once, and more than once he’d found you asleep by the time he got back. It hurt him deeply every time it happened. In fact, the last time it happened, your pillow had tear stains on him.

To say such sight had broken his heart was an understatement.

“Technically today’s about the bride…” A soft chuckle from you.

“You were my bride once.” A wink from him.

“I haven’t been a bride in a long time.”

“You’ll always be my beautiful bride.” And with this, Miguel brought you even closer, one hand on your waist, the other on your cheek. His breath fanned your cheek and suddenly, his lips were on yours. You smiled into the kiss, standing on the tips of your toes to lovingly cup his cheeks with both your hands. While your fingers traced his jaw exactly how you knew he liked, his hands got a bit busier, leaving your body to tug on the straps that held your silk dress together.

Once you figured what he was up to, you pushed him away, quirking an eyebrow as you tried to hide a smirk.

“Nuh-uh mister, we have a church to be at in 20 minutes, and it’s a 10-minute drive!” You asserted, shaking your head at him. It didn’t matter that the room’s temperature seemingly shot up, and your husband was looking truly tempting – you were not going to let your horniness get the better of you. At least, well, not today.

“No se darán cuenta de que llegamos tarde, te prometo que seré rápido” Miguel mumbled, lips pressing hot kisses against the crook of your neck, hands still dexterously tugging at your dress.

“No Spanish skills necessary to know you’re telling me a big fat lie. You’re never quick with me.” You laughed loudly, and the sound was enough for both Miguels to fall in love with you all over again. A pair of hands were on his chest, and he was softly pulled away. You fixed the straps of your dress and flattened your attire before standing straight. “Time to go, Mr. O’Hara.”

“You’ve never complained about me not being quick.” Was his muttered response, accompanied by a smug smile. But for all the adoration and desire he felt for you, he was even more whipped for your resolve. If you said it was time to go, it was probably time to go. So, he quickly adjusted his suit, turning to face the phone’s camera once again. “Vale, vale. Ya es hora de irnos, muñeca.”

Your figure got closer and closer, and at once, the video had ended.

Miguel stared at your smiling figure in his screen for a few minutes, and then shut everything off, the reflection of his own tired face staring back at him. It wasn’t until he felt something wet on his hands that he realised he was crying.

He missed you.

Constantly, continuously, perpetually.

You were on his mind at all times. When he roamed the halls of the Spider Society without you by his side to keep him company, when he went out for those cafeteria empanadas that could never compare to yours, when he worked himself to exhaustion without your deft fingers to work on the knots on his back, without your soft kisses to calm him down after he got mad at the world.

And everything around him reminded him of you.

It was impossible to walk around the streets of Nueva York without being distracted by the colours, the sounds, the sights, the people. It all brought his mind back to the love of his life, the person he found it impossibly hard to live without. The florist near your old apartment, the one he’d buy flowers from every other week, the pizza place that was “so bad, Italians surely had to be crying” according to you, even the goddamned dogs on the street reminded him of the way you’d kneel down and act like an excited child every time you saw one.

It was absolute torture to live without you.

But the worst of all, was waking up in the morning.

Some days, he swore he could feel your touch. The way your fingers traced his jaw and slowly made its way to his hair, playing with his brown locks. Your touch was soft, comforting, a small gesture to remind him he was safe. You often expressed how much you adored watching Miguel when he slept. “You look so relaxed. No furrow in your brow, no scowl in your lips. You look so peaceful.” Was what you told him every time, and there was no way he could ever not grant your every wish.

And then it was if he could hear your voice. Your sweet, melodic voice, telling him “Good morning, my love” in that sleep-laced voice he adored so much. And Miguel would close his eyes and try his best to remain in that place not yet tainted by reality but not entirely claimed by dream. “Wake up, guapo” was the next thing you’d say, your imperfect Spanish-skills manifesting. You’d been adamant on learning Spanish for your husband, and fuck if it didn’t make Miguel’s heart swell. The way his wife (then girlfriend) was so willing to learn the language he grew up with in order to become closer to him made him feel all kinds of positive emotions, and Miguel could swear his love for you grew more and more each passing day.

And then, you’d say it.

“Te quiero, mi amor.” It was the one phrase you used repeatedly, and the one he loved hearing you say the most. It fell from your lips naturally, as if you had been saying it your entire life, with a sweetness reserved for him and only him.

Your touch felt so real. Your voice sounded so real.

So, he would stay still, hoping that remaining motionless would grant him just one more second with you. Hoping that his immobility would be enough for you to return to him, even if just for a few brief moments.

But it never was.

Seconds would go by, and your touch would waver. Your voice would become distant, your feeble existence flittering away, leaving him with nothing but the painful reminder that his sheets would forever be cold, his place in his bed would always be empty, his life would no longer have the warmth and serenity your love brought to him.

Miguel would glance at your delicate figure once again, his mind trying to memorise you right then and there – and just as quickly as you manifested, you would disappear.

Deserting him of all he ever loved.

He was tired of being alone. Tired of waking up besides cold white sheets, of not having your sweet praises to assure him he was doing the right thing at HQ, simply tired of leading an existence without you.

There was no way he could bring you back – hell, he knew first hand that toying with the multiverse was a bad idea. But it did hurt him, going on without you. In fact, he wasn’t even sure he could go on if you weren’t there, next to him.

All he needed was your presence, your company. All he needed was to apologize and hear your sweet voice again, and damn it if he wouldn’t be thankful.

And that’s when the idea came to him.

This was a prototype Miguel had been developing for a while.

It was like Lyla, the only difference being the AI’s purpose. Lyla was there to assist him, to help him out with missions, anomalies, and the management of the Spider Society. The project he was working on served another goal. It was more of a companion than an assistant, it was to always remain by his side, to cure him of his loneliness, of his anguish and despair.

The screen in front of Miguel lit up after he configured the final few settings. A tweak here, a little adjustment there, some fine tuning over there. Should this work, Miguel would no longer have to have his thoughts plagued by the heartbreak your loss so constantly granted him.

“Good morning,” Like magic (or better yet, technology), a figure materialised before him. It was hard to explain just what it was, or what it looked like. It was as if a transparent person had solidified into existence in his presence. While it had the form of a human, a head, a torso, two arms and legs, the figure was devoid of any features. No eyes, no nose, no lips or ears, no hair. It was almost like a hologram of a mannequin, a blank slate of a person he would later shape according to his vision.

Miguel stared back at the figure, not completely convinced, at least not yet, of what he was doing. Sure, he’d worked day and night for the past few weeks, he’d foregone sleep and adopted coffee as his only meal in order bring his project into fruition, but now that it was there, right before his eyes, the possibility of achieving his goal was terrifying.

“To whom do I owe the pleasure of talking to?” The figure inquired, its voice devoid of any emotions.

After a moment of silence, Miguel spoke up.

“My name is Miguel O’Hara.” He began, “I am your creator.”

“Greeting, Miguel O’Hara.” The program answered back. “I am the Cognitive Operations and Machine Personalized Interface for Nurturing. Or rather COMPANION, for short. I was created to act as a colleague, a confidant and friend. As my name implies, my goal is to provide a nurturing presence to whoever is controlling me.” Having said this, it looked up at Miguel and something flashed in its visual panel – the closest thing this body had to a pair of eyes – and the words AUTHORISE SCAN? flashed on the main screen before the entity spoke up once again.

“Would you like me to scan you, Miguel O’Hara? By scanning you, I can take a look at your vital signs, your physicality, and even run a scan of your psyche to provide you with a companion that would, according to my calculations, be the best possible match for you.”

But Miguel did not want a tailored companion. He did not need to be looked at by any AI to be told who or what would act as the best possible match for him. He did not need any technology to figure out what could possibly be the best person to keep him company.

“That will not be necessary,” he asserted, “No scan is to be run. I am to personally customise you until you conform to my exact specifications. Is that clear?”

The being nodded, its posture straight as an arrow.

“I understand. Would you like to begin the customisation process?” It asked.

Miguel hesitated. Should he be doing this? It’s not like he was doing anything wrong. He was a genius, after all, and this was just a new project. He’d created Lyla once, and look how far that got him, the good his AI did not only for himself, but the Spider Society and by consequence, the multiverse.

In fact, everything he did had helped the Spider Society in the long run. Everything he did was for the good of the Spider Society, the thing he worked on for years and years, the thing he built from scratch and ultimately led to his demise.

Wasn’t it time for him to be selfish?

“Yes. I’d like to begin the customisation process.” Miguel sat down on his chair once again, exhaling loudly through his nose. There was nothing wrong with what he was doing. He was allowed to be a genius scientist, he was allowed to build new things, and he was most of all, allowed to be selfish after all that he’d done for the multiverse.

“From now on,” he started, “You are to respond to [N/N].” It had been months since he’d last uttered that nickname. The sweet little nickname he always referred to you as. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a variation of your name, but it nearly brought tears to his eyes, because for the first time, you weren’t there to turn around and face him with that stunning grin of yours.

(“So, no cariño, or mi amor, or chiquita?” You’d once inquired, legs crossed as you sat on your husband’s desk, right in front of him.

“I must remain professional, [Y/N]. I have a reputation to uphold.” Was his response as he crossed his arms. If anyone else were to be on his lab, let alone sit on top of his desk, he would go feral. But he couldn’t find it in himself to berate you or tell you to move – you could do anything your heart desired, and Miguel would adore you for it.

“And you’re willing to hurt your poor wife’s feelings over a reputation?” You faked a pout, batting your eyelashes at him, something you knew he couldn’t resist.

“I can think of a few ways to make it up to my wife, actually.” And without missing a beat, you were suddenly on his lap, smiling as his lips moved with your and his hands delicately ran through your body.

Miguel did not do good on his promise. On the second day after this conversation, he’d asked you “Mi amor, won’t you please get me the prototype I left on our dining table back home?” In front of everyone else and gave up. It was physically impossible for him not to treat you with the gentleness he was so used to from you.)

“[N/N]. I understand. Is it short for anything else?”

Miguel remained silent for a few seconds, before nodding.

“It’s short for [Y/N].” The name left his lips the same way it always did. With adoration, with love, with heartbreak. He hadn’t uttered it in a long time and mentally chastised himself for doing so, as if not voicing it out loud was somehow disgracing your memory. He shook the thought away.

The entity nodded once again.

“I understand. Am I to respond to [Y/N] as well?”

“Yes.”

Lyla had been quietly hearing whatever was going on inside Miguel’s lab from afar. She’d seen him work nonstop, day and night, for the past few weeks, always being told “It’s a new project” and nothing more. Miguel had pushed her away (just as he had done with everyone else), and it was only when the little AI figure heard the new program’s purpose and your name that it all clicked together. Although she was uncapable of feelings, it upset her to see Miguel so broken. But much to her dismay, there was nothing she or anyone else could do.

The truth was, no one had seen him during those few weeks. He had locked himself and dived headfirst into this project, refusing to let anyone in, literally or figuratively, threatening to do unspeakable things to whoever disturbed him while he worked.

She shook her head and looked at him once again, wondering what he would do next.

The entity, now named [Y/N], was the next one to speak.

“I understand this is most commonly used as a female name. Would you like for me to take the form of a woman?”

Miguel nodded, and the entity’s form shaped before his eyes. It became softer, gentle. Its contours shifted until they exuded an air of grace, each line and curve seemed harmonious and supple, different from his own sharp and broad figure. And yet, it didn’t resemble any women he knew. Yet.

“Now that I have a name and your preferred anatomy, would you like to create a personality for me?” [Y/N] probed. Her thoroughness made Miguel falter. This was happening way too fast. First a name, now a personality. He hadn’t yet come to terms with your loss, at least not properly, and this whole thing was giving him major whiplash. After losing you, he hadn’t been able to process his feelings. Now he was asking himself to push all of that aside in order to create what would be his most ambitious task. Nevertheless, he pushed through.

“How so?”

[Y/N] nodded and spoke once again. Now that she had taken the form of a woman, her voice was somewhat softer. It was hard to pinpoint whether it was real or not, if it was from a real person or not, but it did not bring Miguel any comfort.

“By giving me your preferred traits, you can arrange for me a personality that will align with your exact specifications, as you put it. Perhaps you’d like me to be quieter and more reserved, in order not to disturb you too much. Or maybe you would prefer if I was loud and cheerful. It is up to you which traits I am given. I am here to provide company and a nurturing presence, so feel free to take your time until I meet your exact wishes.”

Miguel pondered briefly. What traits would he like this… this thing to have? At first, he tried to pretend, get his mind off it, try to convince himself he was merely making an AI program to keep him company. But he could not lie to himself any longer.

He wasn’t simply creating an AI companion.

He was creating you.

And after mulling it over one last time, he decided to stop being so fucking uptight and go through with the task at hand. This is why he had been working so hard. His goal was so close, it was right in front of him to just take it, and here he was, acting like a coward.

“I want you to be kind,” Miguel remembered how kind to a fault you were. Always willing to help others, always willing to cheer them up and put their needs before your own. So selfless, so ready to lend a helping hand. “And optimistic, positive. I want you to always see the bright side of things,” You had this ability of turning even the most despairing moments into hopeful ones, advising him to not let the dark thoughts get the best of him. You’d hold your head up high and remind him of who he was; Spiderman 2099, and that he had nothing to fear, for it’d work out in the end.

“I want you to be polite and cheerful. Simply… Simply happy to exist.” You’d turn even the blandest of moments into memories he’d want to keep forever. In one moment, Miguel would be laying around, holding you close in his arms, the next you’d be taking him to the rooftop of your building to “catch a glimpse of Zeus’s angry fit” whenever thunder roared through the sky. Cleaning your shared apartment could be considered a boring chore to many, but they did not have you, who made up games out of every single task, like catching socks or vacuuming. “You will see the beauty in things. And I want you to be ambitious.”

Sure, Miguel had spent countless nights hunched over his desk, trying to come up with the perfect suit, or trying to keep hold of the canon, but you were no stranger to nighttime restlessness. You’d sit by his side work on your own tasks, intent of going to sleep only, and only when you wrapped everything up. If he weren’t in so much pain, he would’ve laughed. He was once the one to wrap his arms around you, face on the crook of your neck as he whispered, “You’ve worked hard enough, chiquita. Time for bed.” Unfortunately for him, in a cruel twist of fate, the roles had reversed for the worse.

“Be stubborn,” Miguel continued, his voice, for once, not wavering. He was so resolutely determined to carry on with this venture, that for once, he didn’t feel his eyes tearing up as the memories of you crawled back inside his mind. “Especially when it comes to me. I… I tend to be quite headstrong when it comes to work. I often need a push.”

[Y/N] nodded once more.

“Remember, you can always adjust my personality to your liking. If you find you do not enjoy my stubbornness, you can change it and I will adjust my personality accordingly.”

It seemed so… Devoid of life. Sure, Miguel had given it some character traits already, but the whole thing wouldn’t be complete until he said so.

“Would you like to customise my voice now?” [Y/N] asked, “You can suggest a pitch and a tone, as well as a voice type. But I am also programmed to analyse any voice sources you provide and copy them. Which would you like to do?”

Miguel sighed. This whole process was getting harder and harder to get through it. It was one thing to give his new companion your name, your personality. But to give it your voice as well? That would be the same thing as making this being invincible, since your voice was the only one he ever seemed to obey. Even the Spider-People around him knew, with Peter teasing him endlessly about how he was “nothing more than a lovestruck puppy whenever you asked him for anything”. Miguel had always been on your beck and call, always willing to do anything you asked of him. By giving this being, this creature, this thing, your voice? He was setting himself up for disaster.

“I… I want you to scan a voice.”

The entity nodded.

“Please do provide me with enough samples of the voice you would like to copy. Preferably, samples that are not too monotonous in tone or in speech. By analysing all aspects of a voice, I can provide a more accurate result.”

Miguel had the following choices:

He could either turn on his screens, open a few folders named “[Y/N]”, and play one of the few hundreds of videos he had on you, or open his phone, connect it to said screens, and play the few voicemails you’d left him throughout your relationship.

There were a few differences in each choice, of course. The videos he kept on you were golden memories he gazed upon on lonely nights. Birthday parties, walks along the sunset, lazy mornings filled with raspy “Get this phone out of my face, mi amor”s, and bubbly “Mr. O’Hara’s a bit grumpy today, isn’t he?”s. Memories of you filming him while he set up your furniture, laughing along as you called him “Bob the Builder”, taped reminders of you cooking dinner for him, the cute little apron he so adored wrapped snugly around your hips, even a few images of when he fell asleep on your lap and you softly ran your fingers through his curls, singing him to sleep, murmuring that lullaby he so adored.

Compared to the voicemails on his phone, these videos were precious. They were worth more than what anyone could offer, in fact, they were priceless. These memories were the ones Miguel held so dear, the ones he cried over, the ones he spent months reminiscing upon after your loss.

On his phone, were 3 measly audio messages you’d left on three different instances of his life.

Usually, you never got to leave voicemails – Miguel would pick up on the first or second ring, always the attentive partner. But on the last few months of your life, that changed completely. And Miguel couldn’t help but chastise himself over it, cursing at himself whenever he remembers the hurt in your voice, the tears that he knew threatened to slip from your eyes and down your cheeks.

He didn’t deserve to use those videos as voice samples. He didn’t deserve to see you in your full glory, laughing at him, smiling and promising him eternal love and kindness. He didn’t deserve to hear your bubbling laughter once more, or fawn over your dazzling smile, he didn’t deserve to miss you. Not when he was the reason you were gone.

So, he decided to pull out his phone, intent on suffering. Intent on reminding himself of why you were gone, why he suffered so much. Miguel didn’t think he deserved to gaze at you in all your splendour. He didn’t think he, a mere, foolish, sinning mortal, was worthy of the living goddess that had once blessed his life, and now haunted his ever moment, gone forever.

“Hey Miggy!” Your voice, your voice was heard through his speakers. “I finally found the curry powder! Had to beat a lady with a stick to get it! It was almost out of stock! Anyway, why don’t you get started on the rice? I’ll be home in 10 and we can finish the recipe! Alright, that was it! Love you honey, see you home! End call. End call! End voicemail! How do you turn this thing off? End call. END CA-“ You were abruptly cut off as the call ended. Miguel chuckled dryly. He was the one to install the Bluetooth system on your phone (“Don’t want you texting and driving”, he had said.), and you had always complained about how your phone never picked up on you wanting to end calls. It became sort of an inside joke, especially since he managed to active and deactivate the system at first try, and it took you four or five to get it done.

(“It’s unfair,” You’d chided, wearing the most adorable pout and crossing your arms, “Technology loves you better.”)

Miguel looked at [Y/N] once again, hoping something, anything, to happen. But his program seemed to be patiently waiting for him to continue. One message was clearly not enough.

He pressed the second voicemail.

“Hey there, honey,” There was no mistaking the worry in your voice. It was still the one he loved so dearly, but laced in something sad, something that plagued him with terrible thoughts and churned inside him. “I know, I know, I shouldn’t worry, but you told me you’d be home by 7, and, well, it’s almost 9…” A soft pause followed, and Miguel could almost visualise it: you, sitting on your couch, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth as you nibbled your worries away. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I know it’s probably nothing serious, but, well, you know me-“ A dry chuckle “-Always worrying about my Miggy… Anyway, do tell me when you’re on your way, alright? I have a surprise for you, so get your pretty ass back home, Mr!”

End of call.

That was the first, well, not so good voice you’d ever left him.

If he could turn back time, Miguel would do it without hesitation. He’d go back to that very same day, convince his past self to stop working, and to go home to his wife. He’d tell past-him that his obsession with work was getting out of hand, and that he should stop it while he has the time, because once he’d fully immersed himself in his work, there was no coming back.

But he couldn’t.

“I’m sorry.” The body in front of him spoke once again. “But these samples are not enough for me to create a voice profile. The procedure it at 74% completion. Would you like for me to continue analysing, or should I start over with another profile?”

Shit. He didn’t want it to come to this, he did not want to listen to that last voice message. He was willing to walk through fire, to go straight through hell as many times as asked of him, but that message was torture. No, it was worse than torture. Torture ended. Either in death, or in relief. But this? Whatever this was, it did not end. This message was perpetual suffering, playing in loop inside his head. Over, and over, and over again.

With whatever strength he still possessed, Miguel pressed the third and last voicemail.

“Miguel…” You had been crying. And if you hadn’t, you were just about to. Miguel recognised the knot in your throat, the lump that kept you from speaking and threatened to turn into tears. He hated that voice. The voice that meant you were hurting. The voice that meant he had hurt you. “I don’t know where you are, but… I shouldn’t have to wonder, because you were supposed to be here… Where are you?” This was when you started to cry. “Do you know how humiliated I was just now…? Do you know how stupid I felt, waiting, sitting on that exam room by myself?” You were sniffling. God, how Miguel wished he could just go back and hug you, how he wished he could dry your tears and promise you it would be alright, he would fix everything, he’d be better.

“This has to stop,” Despite the tears, you were still talking. That was just who you were, able to speak through the pain, always willing to keep pushing forward. “This stupid obsession with work, Miguel, it has to stop. I’m tired, I’m so tired. And I’m so lonely, Miguel… I’m so lonely, I go to sleep by myself, and the sheets are still cold when I wake up… I don’t see you, you don’t come home, and you push me away when I visit you in HQ…”

“When are you going to go back to being my husband? I don’t want Spiderman. I want my husband, I want my Miguel back, I want the man I love back…” You sobbed, unbothered by how you sounded. You weren’t even sure if he could make out any words, but you kept on going – if you didn’t tell him what was going on your mind now, there was no way you ever could.

“I miss you… Just… Come home Miguel… I can’t do this by myself…” He could hear you wiping your tears, and softly clearing your throat. “Anyway… The doctor said the baby was fine. But I guess if you really cared, you’d come to the appointment.” This last part was muttered, and Miguel could swear he heard both yours and his heart break.The baby. “Come home. Please.”

And just like that, the call ended.

Miguel was crying. This last message… This was the one he couldn’t help but listen to almost every day before passing out from exhaustion. “It’s your fault [Y/N]’s gone. You neglected your wife, you prioritised work over her, you couldn’t protect her.” Was what the voices in his head uttered, day after day, night after night. Every second he was reminded of how he left you behind.

He'd been working late every day, neglecting his meals, neglecting his sleep, neglecting his wife, who cried herself to sleep every night, holding tightly onto her husband’s pillow – which brought her small comfort. He would lash out at you when you tried to get him to take breaks, treating you like you were nothing but one of his Spider-People, refusing to look you in the eye and not even returning your “I love yous”.

One day, you had tried calling him, but to no avail. It was only when Jessica and Peter burst into his office, saying you’d also called them, that Miguel decided to check on you back at your shared apartment. He was hoping to find you whining, curled up on your couch as you pouted at him and told him you missed him. He thought he’d find you throwing a tantrum, too hormonal to understand how important and busy his work was.

But nothing could’ve prepared him to what he saw.

The metallic smell that permeated the room should’ve been a dead giveaway, but Miguel was too focused on returning to HQ that he ignored it, and made his way to your bedroom, where you most likely were.

And that’s when he saw you. Drenched in blood, face red and puffy from the tears that ran down your cheeks. You were laying on your shared bed, body marred with deep gashes from what he assumed was a knife. On one hand was your phone, on the other, Miguel’s first Spiderman mask. “For protection”, he once said. You always held on to it whenever you were scared.

It’s nearly impossible to describe the pain and heartache Miguel felt looking at your lifeless body. A conversation with his neighbours informed him that the entire building had been victim of a burglar, and you were the only mortal victim, unable to fight him off.

It was his fault. He’d been too immersed in his work, pushing you away, leaving you to the loneliness of your apartment, and now here you were, dead. There was no other way to say it, you were dead, and so was your child.

Oh God.

Your child.

Tears clouded his vision; irrationality clouded his judgement. Miguel was most certainly not thinking straight when he tried carrying your body back to HQ. Perhaps something could be done about the baby. Perhaps your child would live, would get to grow up, his eyes and your hair, your smile and his nose, anything that proved you still lived in something, in someone other than just his memory.

But that wasn’t possible.

That night, Miguel cried for the first time. He wept, hands hiding his face as the images of your ripped apart belly and glassy eyes tormented his thoughts.

It was his fault.

You were gone, and it was his fault.

If only he hadn’t worked so hard. If only he’d been home with you, doting on his beautiful pregnant wife like any decent husband would, none of this would’ve happened. The burglar would’ve tried to enter his house, and within seconds he’d be slammed against the wall. Miguel would have held you close that night, whispering soft “It’s okays” and “You’re fine, mi amors” repeatedly until your heartbeat steadied, and you fell into a peaceful sleep.

But that was not possible.

Not anymore.

And it was, irrevocably, his fault.

And then the unthinkable happened.

“Voice profile completed.”

It was you. It was your voice that spoke back to him. It had that sweet musicality to it that he so adored, that he once was blessed to hear every day when he woke up, that chastised him for being too stubborn, that pleaded for one more kiss whenever he had to go to work, that giggled excitedly whenever he whispered soft Spanish praises, limbs tangled with yours.

Miguel looked up. It was your voice, but the creature did not look like you at all. All it shared was a name and your sweet, sweet voice.

Mierda. Fuck this. Al diablo con la sutileza.

Miguel missed you and he was going to have you, one way or the other.

“I want you to look like her.” He all but growled, fingers angrily tapping at the screen so he could find your pictures. “There. Scan her. I want you to look like her. And stop with the formalities. You’re to call me Miguel. ¿Me entiendes?” His voice was feral with the prospect of seeing you again – or at least a construction of you. The thought was overwhelming, and he had to sit back down, his face finding purchase in his hands.

He was past “What am I doing?”

“Miguel?” You asked.

No. Not you.

[Y/N].

Miguel looked up, the same way a sinner does at the altar, praying for redemption. It was gorgeous. You were gorgeous. And looked oh, so real.

Your– [Y/N]’s eyes were looking down at his figure, lips slightly agape, the way you always did when you quite couldn’t figure out what was wrong. [Y/N] pursed her lips and exhaled softly.

“Miguel, are you okay?” [Y/N] said. You said. It was getting hard to tell you two apart, to distinguish what was creature and what was human, what was holographic entity and what was the love of his wife. Especially when you looked the same, when you sounded the same, when you looked at him with the same tenderness, the same love. You were identical. Same eyes, same smile, same hair, same figure. It was as if, before him, stood a perfect copy of you.

“[Y/N]?” Miguel questioned, too delirious to try and figure out who he was talking to.

“Yes? Is everything alright? You seem distressed…” Slowly, your figure – [Y/N]’s figure, right? – approached him. You looked down ([Y/N]...? [Y/N] looked down...?), soft apprehension clear in your voice.

“Oh, my love… Cariño…” Miguel sobbed as he looked at you – so gorgeous, so radiant as the day he met you, with eyes that could give the stars in the sky a run for their money, with lips so plush one couldn’t help but want to kiss them at all times, the love of his life, right before his eyes. “I missed you so much…”

He took you in, all softness and loveliness and so you, it almost scared you. You, the goddess, the saint, ready to rid him of his sins and absolve him, to make him a new man untainted by grief and heartbreak.

He had half a mind to touch you before a tiny voice in the back of his head advised him against it – the delusion hadn’t sunk in entirely yet, and he knew your image would flicker, a simple hologram compared to his solidness, to his existence.

But it didn’t matter.

He had given himself the second chance he so desperately wanted, and he was not going to waste it this time.

A/N: I hope you guys liked it! All headers are mine hehe I made them in PixelLab in like 5 minutes lol :) Please do not repost my work without my permission, thank you!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #atsv x you #spiderverse x you #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman

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stories4thepack · 11 months

Note

Helloooo!! If you feel comfortable could you do a Jenna Ortega x fem!reader where Jenna has a stressful day at work and takes her anger out on the reader, but the reader hates like conflict and yelling, so the reader is like crying and goes to sleep upset and tries to avoid Jenna, but Jenna feels very bad after and apologizes and comforts the reader after?

I love your writing btwww!! 😭😭🫶🫶🫶

OMG YES!!!

Jenna couldn’t think straight. People were calling from all sides, their words pounding her ears like a drum. She felt confused, frustrated, wanting to get away from everyone and be in your arms.

“Jenna, I need you to smile!”

The director shouted, he sounded as tired as Jenna felt as she forced a smile onto her face. It was no better leaving either…

“Over here Jenna!”

“What are you working on now?”

“Can you tell us about your current movie?”

The words and shouts fell on Jenna’s numb ears as she tired not to look at the faces behind the flashing cameras. She couldn’t disappear into her car fast enough.

She couldn’t get to you fast enough.

“Hey Jen!”

You grin as she walks through the door. Your obliviousness to her exhausted state already frustrating her…

“Listen, someone called today offering you a job for another horror film. It’s sounds so cool-“

“I already have so much on.”

Jenna groans, dumping her bag on the couch before taking off her coat.

“I know, but baby, it’s the fifth movie of an incredible franchise! It’ll really boost your popularity, you’ll be changing the definition of fame-“

“I already have a lot on y/n.”

Your girlfriend hissed, anger burning behind her voice. You took a step back, suddenly nervous to be around her. You give her a shaky smile, trying to calm her down.

“I just want what’s best for you, and this could turn out to be something-“

“REALLY?!”

Jenna shouts, the bitterness in her voice making you flinch. But your girlfriend either ignores it or doesn’t notice.

“Do you really want what’s best for me? I already told you that I fucking have too on!”

Fear flows through your veins like it were a river, you begin to sweat. Her words feel so much more dangerous than any weapon, your hands begin to shake. But Jenna’s too upset to notice.

“Jen, listen, please calm down”

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do!”

Jenna yells, and you stumble back, your legs hitting the table behind you. You grasp the edge of it, as if it would somehow protect you from whatever was about to happen.

“Don’t be another one of THEM, who tells me what to fucking do! I AM SO DONE WITH YOU!”

Tears flood down your cheeks, your too afraid of the girl you love to move. Your mind shows you your father, the way he would scream at you if you did anything wrong

“Your nothing but a disappointment, I am so done with you!”

He yells in your head. Your hands cover your ears, fingers claw desperately at your head as if you were trying to tear him out of your mind. Your body shakes uncontrollably and suddenly your on the floor, knees tucked up to your chin. Sobs breaking out of your mouth and inaudible apologies fly from your mouth.

Jenna runs towards you, guilt hitting her as hard as a moving train. She tries to speak to you, placing a gentle hand onto your shoulder. But you jerk away from her touch, clambering away from her before jumping to your knees.

Your eyes are wild and fearful like that of a scared deer. You look at her one last time, tears flowing thick and fast down your face before you run out of the door. Jenna can hear you stumbling down the corridor, your sobs breaking through the silence of the house. She wants to chase after you. But she’s frozen on the floor, horror clouding her judgment.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You returned home two hours later, your eyes red from crying, your face pale from the icy weather outside, your tears seemingly frozen to your face. Your head looks fixedly at the ground as you walk through the door.

“Y/n”

Jenna says, ready to pour her heart to you; but you vanish into the guest room, not sparing your girlfriend a second glance. The door clicks shut as you disappear behind it, the sound somehow making Jenna guilt even worse.

Immediately, she’s up from where she is sat, walking straight to your door and knocking gently.

“Y/n, nothing can excuse what I said.”

She starts, the sound of your quiet sniffles from in the room breaks her heart. She knocks again, lighter this time as not to scare you further.

“Honey, I am so sorry. I love you so much and I promise, I will never, ever say anything like that again!”

There’s silence form behind your door, making Jenna worried, she thinks of knocking again, but decides that it would be better to speak to your face. She takes a deep breath, knowing that opening the door was a risk.

But she did it anyway.

She was slow and careful as she did so, whispering your name softly. The blinds were pulled shut, making the room almost pitch black. But, in the darkness, she could just make out your shaking form lying under your blanket on your bed.

“Honey, I’m so sorry.”

Jenna says, carefully approaching your side before slowly climbing onto the bed and lying beside you.

“May I touch you?”

She asks gently, her words almost a coo. You freeze, before nodding slightly to her. Without a second thought, she wraps her arm over your shoulder, snuggling into you. Causing a hum to be purred from your lips.

“I am so sorry! How can I make you feel better?”

She asks, you are silent for a moment before you shuffle backwards into her, resting the back of your head into her collar. She kissed your neck, lowering her arm so it was it is over your waist.

“This is good.”

You mutter, smiling to yourself as Jenna gives you a gentle squeeze as she whispers the three words you loved so much

“I love you.”

#Jenna Ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #Jenna Ortega #jenna ortega angst #Jenna Ortega fluff #sad reader #fluff reader #panic attack

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princesssmars · 1 year

Text

a night in the castle

a vampire jessica and oscar x reader

wc: 6.010 (?>?????/)

working as a tired maid in your town, you have a horrible night and end up at the mysterious castle on the hill. the two owners give you a dinner unlike any other.

contains : fic set in the nineteenth century but its barely written that way. reader is a maid is shunned by the village which includes some misogynistic remarks. polyamory with vampires aka the dream. said vampires do in fact drink blood. threesome with said vampires. oral sex (m>f, f>f), unprotected penetrative sex. reader isnt all there (rightfully so) and the vampires love it.

a/n : yall know i had to do it. this took me forever sorry i cant write smut. enjoy.

living as a maid in your town, you weren't afforded many pleasures in your day to day life. you slept in a shabby room with a creaky and stained bed, spent a large portion of your day cleaning after people who treated you like the dirt you scrubbed, just to go to the bar to drink with the few friends you had until you felt numb.

it was pitiful but it was your life. but one of the major luxuries you weren't afforded was rage.

and as you walk up the muddy path on the hill on the edge of town, your legs burning and your skin shivering, that burning hatred was all you felt.

you had spent an uncountable amount of hours cleaning after one prominent family, the morgan's. you'd spent the most amount of time cleaning their home, and they were fairly kind to you, even if it was mostly their son who spoke to you.

but that didn't do you any favors when the young morgan was accused of having an affair and placed the blame on you to protect his mistress, which led to you being publicly shamed and thrown out of the home, mrs. morgan calling you a harlot who would never find a home to work at in town again.

your mind is running so fast you don't even notice you've picked up your pace, your feet making wet thuds as you head to who knows where. at this point you can be bothered to care, even when a stray branch knicks your ankle.

it feels like an eternity until you finally reach a destination, your body nearly running straight into a large set of dark doors. you look up in surprise to see where you are, your eyes widening when you process where you are: darkwood manor.

you always heard stories as a child about the manor up on the hill on the edge of town, the massive estate looming over where you lived like a constant reminder of the past. your grandmother would tell you tales of it before bed, prattling about the monsters who lived inside who would take away young girls who didn't behave.

eventually your grandfather would come in and assure you your grandmother was teasing, and that the manor was just inhabited by the two reclusive owners and their staff. you'd had more nightmares about it than you cared to admit.

but standing outside of the manor, you don't even feel a smidge of fear. you're too tired mentally and psychically to care about what the owners might do to you for trespassing.

you aren't afforded too much time to dwell in your exhaustion before one of the doors creaks open, soft yellow light pouring out before being blocked by a small frame coming into your view.

"hello, are you alright, dear?" a small voice asks you as your eyes finally adjust to the light to see the person in front of you. its a woman, much older than you judging by the many grey streaks in her hair. she's wearing a simple maids uniform and is staring at you with kind eyes and a smile. the sight of it nearly makes you crumple to the floor, your hurt legs giving out on you as she tries to hold you up.

"its ok, dearie, you're ok now," she soothed, her body nearly wrapping entirely around yours. "how about we go get you cleaned up, hm?"

you nod, rising with her as she wraps one of her arms around you to lead you inside the manor. you barely register the interior of the grand home, your eyes bleary with tears and rain. you can make up the large staircase that swirls upwards into the next floor, and how the walls are dark and filled with intricate designs and paintings.

eventually the elder woman leads you to sit down at a stool in what seems like a wide kitchen, some younger workers scurrying off when she gives them a muffled order. but the mental toll of the days events are starting to settle into your body, your eyes drooping and head tilting to the side.

"now now, don't fall asleep on me now, hun. how about i help freshen you up and you tell me what happened to lead to you coming all the way up here in this weather?" she asks gently, patting you on the shoulder at your tired nod.

and so, as the woman who tells you her name is agnes and that she is the head maid for the lord and lady of the manor softly cleans your face and arms with a damp rag, you slowly start to explain what happened in town for you to end up at the estate at such a late hour. as you repeat everything that happened it hits harder that your life, no matter how much you disliked it, would never be the same after tonight.

right before you start bawling you look up at agnes to see her staring at you so kindly it nearly makes you break. she reminds you of your mother before she sadly passed from an illness when you were young. the maternal way she acts helps to soothe you, even if its just enough to not cry at this moment.

"there, all better. now you look like a proper young lady." agnes smiles at you, tilting your head from side to side to check if she missed any smudges. "well, its safe to assume you can't go back down the hill. you stay right here and give me one second, alright?"

you nod again to assure here you'll stay where you are before she smiles and leaves through another pair of doors on the outside of the kitchen. after she leaves you take in your surroundings, noticing just how big the kitchen really is for just two people, though you suppose its normal for such a large home.

feeling better now that you're clean, you figure agnes wont be upset if you explore the kitchen a bit, getting up and admiring the kitchen. the walls are composed of a patterned brown wallpaper, with the floor being a brown wood and counters made of a darker brown wood. you trail your hand across the top of one of them, noticing how smooth and clean they are. the kitchen is impeccably clean, actually, even thought supper time was merely a few hours ago and there is'nt a pot or pan in sight.

just as the thought crosses your mind, the sound of the door opening causes you to whip around, holding your hands behind your back guiltily. you expect to see agnes but instead see someone that nearly makes you pass out in nervousness.

instead of agnes a woman stands in the doorway, her fancy clothing telling you she is the lady of the manor. she's wearing a a gown, the black and red fabric standing out against her pale skin and red hair. her eyes stay on you while you observe her, the pale blue staring into your own. when she entered her face looked furious before she saw you. your hands start to fidget under her gaze.

"oh, dear, why are you up and about? i told you to stay sitting so you would'nt tire yourself out anymore!" agnes worries, moving from behind the lady and rushing over you to guide you back to the stool.

she turns toward the lady. "i'm sorry, ma'am. she's just a little bit out of it because of what happened."

"that's quite alright, i cant imagine what it must be like to have gone through all that she's been through." the woman says, her voice low and almost haunting. she steps closer, bringing her fingers to grip your chin and tilt your head to look at her.

"my name is jessica, the lady of the manor. i reside here with my husband, oscar. i'm sure you might have heard of us?"

"y..yes i have. just stories as a child." you whisper.

she smiles, almost like she knows exactly what you speak of. "i'm aware of the tales. but i can assure you that no one in this house is a monster." you briefly catch the faint smile on her face and the look she shares with agnes.

"but i can assure you that in this home you will be cared for. agnes will arrange a room for you and some fresh clothes for you to change in to."

before you can even object agnes walks out of the room and jessica takes your arm in hers to lead you to another part of the house. seeming to sense your curiosity, she encourages you to ask questions about the house and its architecture, answering any question you ask no matter how silly it sounds in your head.

she leads you up the staircase to the second level, taking you down a long hallway before stopping before a slight open door, opening it and gesturing for you to head inside.

following her direction, you slowly walk in to the room to see a bedroom straight out of your dreams. its big but not too large to feel overwhelming, having a four poster canopy bed, some dressers, a nook near the window presumably for reading, and a quaint sitting area near a fireplace.

"i hope its to your liking. we can have you moved to another room if you'd like-"

"no!" you nearly shout, slightly embarrassed at how you cut her off. she does'nt seem to mind though, simply looking at you in a way you cant interpret.

"its amazing, thank you. i swear soon i will hopefully be back on my feet and out of your way."

"nonsense, don't rush yourself, precious," she assures, stepping forward to rest her hands on your shoulders, continuing that unbroken eye contact from before, "you are welcome to stay in our home as long as you'd like. we rarely get guests from the town these days, so its nice to see a new face. especially one as lovely as yours."

the shock of her words makes your heart take a beat so suddenly you're scared she will be able to hear it. you feel bashful, not used to getting many compliments about your attractiveness. you cant help but want her to compliment you more, feeling like you'd give anything for her to call you beautiful.

"alright, there's something on the bed you to change into. another maid will be waiting outside if you need help getting dressed. she'll lead you to the dining room when you're done." she explains.

you're eyebrows knit in confusion, her face amused at your confusion. "you'll be having a meal with me and my husband. its only right you meet him and get some food into your system. trust me, he'll adore you so don't be worried."

you don't voice how that makes you worry more, instead telling her "thank you again for everything." before she leaves the room and you're left by yourself yet again.

the weight of what's happening finally settles in and you feel euphoric, struggling to quiet yourself as you jump on the bed and cheer for yourself. from a maid rejected by town to a guest at a local manor in the span of an hour. this is crazier than your wildest dreams.

composing yourself, you stand up and move to the dress that's been left for you on the end of the bed. picking it up doesn't help quell your excitement, the clothing being prettier than anything you've ever worn or even been able to afford. better yet its beautiful, being a white color with hints of f/c.

when changing you do have to invite your helper, catherine, inside to help you do up the back of your corset and the rest of your undergarments before finally helping you into your dress. your initial shyness fades as you begin to speak to each other, the both of you being around the same age and seeming to have the same interests. most of your friends looked away when you were thrown from the morgans, so it's nice to have a new one here in this strange place.

once you've finished getting dressed catherine leads you back down the hallway and stairs, through a new wider set of hallways before you eventually arrive at the dining room.

it's massive, to say the least, and the ceiling is covered in a gorgeous mural that trickles down the walls to keep the room regal yet creative. there’s a large table in the middle of the room, enough fancy chairs to seat at least 20 people.

“and you must be y/n,” a voice booms, pulling your attention from admiring the room to the person now speaking to you. he walks over to you faster than you can comprehend, seeming to cross the room in a manor of seconds. you don't have time to dwell on it before he clasps your hands in yours, shaking then up and down in a peculiar handshake. “my name is oscar, welcome to our home. i hope my wife and our staff have show you enough kindness to persuade you to stay.”

the lord is greeting you so nicely but you feel bad for barely paying attention to his words to take in his looks. you can see why he and his wife are married, to say the least, as he is incredibly handsome. he has slightly curled dark brown hair with eyes to match. he's wearing a suit just as extravagant as his wife's, mostly black with red and white accents. the coloring stands out greatly against his tanned skin and better unifies him and his wife as one. he lets out a little laugh as he notices your staring.

"um, yes. they've been nothing but kind to me," you manage to stutter out, slightly embarrassed at how you let yourself be so rude. "thank you so much for allowing me to stay in your home. i'm sure you've heard of my predicament, so i'm more than willing to pay off your kindness with service."

"y/n, you're our guest. we want you to enjoy your stay here. don't worry about any of that now." jessica projects from her seat at the table, watching your entire exchange. she gestures to the chair across from her for you to sit, oscar quickly guiding you to the end of the table to take your seat which he politely pulls out for you and pushes back in.

as soon as the lord sits in his seat, a few servants exit the kitchen to start laying out the meal. before you can even blink a full plate of food including some of the best-prepared meat you've ever seen, a fresh steaming bun of bread, and a good heap of vegetables is laid in front of you. you notice how the lord and lady aren't laid meals, instead, both of them are poured a dark red wine into their glasses.

"aren't you both going to eat?" you ask, trying to be as polite as possible.

they share a look and softly laugh to each other, in on a joke you cant understand.

"don't worry about us darling," jessica comforts, raising her glass to her lips and taking a languid sip before licking the leftover liquid off of her upper lip, "we'll be just fine like this. don't be shy and enjoy the meal."

and so, you dig in. the food is phenomenal, your eyes nearly rolling in to the back of your head much to your hosts amusement. after giving your compliments to the chef, they start up a shared conversation. they ask numerous questions about your life, what you loved and enjoyed doing, and more. it made you just a tad uncomfortable to be the center of attention, but a part of you deep inside craves more of it.

"i cant believe that woman would do something so cruel to a pretty little thing like you." oscar says, his face pinched in anger as he takes a long swig of his wine.

"precisely what i was thinking darling. y/n seems far too sweet to do such a thing. we are deeply sorry that happened to you, dear." jessica agrees, rubbing her hand up her husbands arm while looking at you.

"well its not completely..i-i guess she had a little reason to worry," you stutter out, your shoulders hunching as the two of them stare at you in signal for you to keep talking. "someone had blabbed about something that happened a while ago with a friend of mine. me and her son had started to get close so i guess she presumed that i would...try to do something with him."

"hm. it looks like you were wrong, my love," oscar hums to his wife, "she's not as innocent as you thought."

jessica chuckles, brining her glass back up to her wine stained lips. you notice how dark and thick the wine looks and cant help but want a taste. "i'm alright with being wrong this once. you know how i love a surprise."

"if you don't mind telling us, y/n," oscar calls you back into the conversation, " what ever happened with your friend for the townspeople to assume you would do something wrong to the morgan's son?"

the dining room goes silent when you don't answer, only the faint sounds of the workers in the kitchen being heard throughout. you contemplate how to explain to your hosts that about a few weeks prior you admitted to your close friend that because you'd been so busy with working these past few years you'd yet to lay with, let alone kiss, anybody else. after laughing and assuming that you were joking, they'd reassured you that it was ok and even offered to be your first kiss as a friendly gesture.

things escalated and before you knew it you had gotten yourself into a heated makeout session with your closest friend. you swore each other to secrecy but you assumed they had told one of your other more gossipy friends who spread it through the grapevine.

“you do not have to tell us if you do not wish to, dear,” jessica comforts, “the last thing we would want to do is make you uncomfortable.”

“thank you, but i don't mind. i trust you.” your eyes strain as the words leave your mouth. you’ve only known these two for a few hours at this point but there is something about them that calms you. t makes you feel safe with them. “i kissed one of my friends a few weeks ago because i never had kissed anyone at that point. i thought they wouldn't tell anyone but…word got around.”

“im sorry that happened to you, y/n. something like that should be sacred. the act of giving yourself to another person should be special, especially for someone as sweet as you.” the redhead moves her hand ross the table to clasp it with yours, wearing a soft look on her face.

“exactly. if that were us we definitely wouldn't betray your trust in such a way.”

“oscar please, you sound so vulgar.” jessica chastises him, the man giving her a rogue grin that sets off a spark in your lower stomach. “anyway its getting late, do you think you'd like to head to bed, y/n?”

your mouth opens to reply but nothing comes out. your thoughts are conflicting, a tug of war between your head and…something else. something darker.

“what did you mean when you wouldn't treat me in that way?”

the couple share a look as oscar tries to hold back his smile from broadening.

“would you like us to show you?”

when you were a teenager, your grandparents had given you the much-dreaded talk about marriage. how unless you would get a job they would have to marry you off to one of the wealthier men in town. your grandmother didn't see any reason to be avoidant of the conversation and decided to inform you about what most men wanted from women, and what would happen to you on your wedding night. she seemed to have avoided the worst of it with her husband since they were very much in love, but she had heard stories from other women whose husbands weren't so understanding.

fortunately for you, your new partners were nothing of the sort.

after your inquiry and frankly embarrassingly enthusiastic consent to what they wanted to show you, the lord and lady had gently guided you up to their bedroom before softly undressing you while praising you and your body.

“do you know how beautiful you are, my love?” jessica runs her slender hands up your arms, the woman standing in front of you as her husband undoes your stays behind you.

“i wouldn't mind hearing it some more.” you smile, letting out a squeak when you feel oscar’s hands squeeze your sides.

“how lucky are we, my love, we’ve got a gorgeous maiden with spunk all to ourselves.” oscar smiles.

“look’s like someone’s heard our prayers,” jessica whispers into your neck, the feel of her lips on your skin driving your mind hazy and your eyes to shut in bliss.

oscar finishes undoing your clothes and brushes the shoulders of your dress off of you to the ground, your hands instinctually coming up to cover your chest before the man holds them to your sides.

“don’t be shy, you're gorgeous,” he tells you, pressing a kiss to the other side of your neck and your cheek. at your nod, he continues his hold on your arms as he sits on the bottom of the bed, sitting you in his lap before wrapping his arms around you.

jessica sits at his side, her body turned so she can still hold and touch you. her hands move up and down your shoulder, as she presses a featherlight kiss to it. when she pulls away you take her wrist in your hand and bring up her hand so its in front of your face. she watches you as you admire her, the smooth lines and wrinkles of her hands and bring it to your lips for a kiss.

“such a sweetheart. we really did get lucky, my dear.” she says to her husband.

“and she tastes even sweeter.” oscar agrees, biting your neck and chuckling at your small yelp. “i say we indulge in her, frankly im sick of waiting.”

jessica places a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “i love it when we think alike, darling.”

before you know it you're lying down on the soft covers of the bed with jessica resting near your head oscar settling between your legs. it’s slow but intense, the way they kiss and suck and bite every bit of your skin until your skin and your brains are on fire. its made worse but so much better when the man drags his tongue up from your entrance up to your clit before giving it a long suck.

“oh my god-” your moan is cut off by jessica’s kiss, her tongue quickly entering your mouth and dispelling any thoughts in your head. the burning feeling at the pit of your stomach grows hotter when her hand trails from your cheek down to your neck before resting on your left breast, circling the nipple before giving it a rough squeeze that makes you let out a squeal.

“you’re so sensitive, my dear,” oscar mumbles into your cunt, using his hands to spread the lips of your pussy and stick his tongue straight into your hole and groaning at the moan it pulls from your throat. before this evening you rarely had thoughts of hurting another person, but its happening again when he pulls away from between your legs and your arms jerks to pull him by the hair back down.

you're given only a few seconds of recuperation before the two of them switch spots at record speed, oscar giving you a heated kiss while jessica throws your thighs over her shoulders and starts to eat you out just as ravenously as her husband did.

its only a few more minutes of pleasure before the look in jessicas eyes from between your legs and the sting of oscar’s teeth as he bites and sucks your neck before you feel yourself come to a release.

“thats it, oh that's perfect, baby,” oscar’s voice rings in your ear, the gentle comforting in your ear making your climax all the more powerful. you don't even notice your hand is trembling until he grasps it with his own.

the lady comes up from the apex of your thighs and brushes the red hair out of her face. when her eyes meet your own she smiles, and you clench your thighs together at the sight.

she giggles and squishes the fat of your thigh with her hand, moving forward to give her husband a quick kiss to his cheek, “i believe our dear is still a little pent up, my love. i think it’s time we seal the deal.”

the way they talk about you while barely acknowledging you causes your core to clench harder than you’d like to admit, a whine coming for your throat that brings their attention back to you.

“dont worry, sweet girl. our fun isn’t over yet.” the lord runs his hands down your chest and torso as he and his wife swap places yet again, his body hovering over yours. he smirks as he sees your eyes go blank with the feeling of his cock pressed against your stomach. “just give us the word and we’ll stop for the night.”

“no!” you shout, laughing at your own outburst. “i don't want to stop. i want you. please.”

oscar smiles down at you and gives you a kiss so sweet it starts to make your mouth and heart ache. he pulls away and uses his large hands to push your thighs apart to rest between them. able to tell that you’re getting in your head, jessica moves one of her legs to the other side of you, the sight of her bare in front of your face making your heartbeat skip.

“while he’s making love to you i'm going to show you how to pleasure me, is that all right?”

you nod your head so quickly you fear you’ll sprain something.

she smiles at you before moving some hairs from in your face gently cupping your face as she moves to rest her cunt over your mouth, her soft command of “lick” drawing you to stick out your tongue out to lick a long line from her entrance to her clit, and the sound of her moan ignites a fire in you that just wants her to feel as good as she made you feel. you bring your hands to wrap around her thighs and push her further into your mouth and the noise she lets out is nothing short of primal.

your main focus is on bringing the lady to orgasm until you feel something soft and large rub up and down your entrance, the feeling of it rubbing against your clit making you hum into jessica’s mound.

“take a deep breath.” oscar’s voice comes from behind jessica’s body, and she pulls her body away despite your pawing at her thighs to watch your face as oscar’s cock enters you, the sight of your eyes widening and mouth opening ina forced moan making her wetness grow.

they take a few minutes to allow you to adjust to the new feeling, waiting for your nod before oscar starts to thrust at a steady pace as jessica sits back down on your face to muffle your moans. you go back to grasping her thighs with your arms and wrap your legs around oscar’s waist to pull him in closer, the feeling of him inside you driving you up the wall.

all the while the pair are praising you, whispering it over the sounds of skin slapping and moans.

“that's it, carino, lift those hips up. show me how much you want it.”

“you’re tasting me so well, my sweet. just a little harder-oh yes, just like that.”

“gods above you’re gripping me like a vice. better than i’ve been dreaming of-”

you don't get to ask what he means before you feel the same pressure from earlier building up in your lower stomach, but it feels different. you’re squealing and squirming as it builds before you hear jessica let out a drawn-out moan as she squeezes her legs around your head, the taste of her arousal flooding your mouth. she’s panting and her skin is shiny with sweat and you swear you've never seen a person more beautiful.

she moves her body to lay on her side next to you, moving her hands down o rud quick circles on your clit as oscar speeds up his thrusts, lifting your hips to rest your bottom on his thighs to fuck inside you at a deeper angle. you cant even be embarrassed by the loud moans you're letting out before you're reaching your climax. the lovers moaning at the sight and feel of your cunt squirting onto oscar’s lap and chest.

the next few minutes are a blur, the physical toll of the night and the sex finally seeping in and making you drowsy. you feel a soft damp rag wiping down your body, each stroke being followed with a feather-light kiss and whispers. about how long they've waited for this, for you, and how they promise to never let anything hurt you again.

its the best sleep youve had in months.

when you wake up you stretch your arms and take a minute to just relax. its been years since you've woken up and had nothing to immediately do. its nice. you could get used to it.

getting up you see some nice clothes laid out for you, including a note left on the bedstand once you finished getting dressed.

dear y/n,

when you awaken, please come downstairs. we'd like to discuss some things with you.

j & o

the neutral tone of the note forms a cold feeling in your chest. from what youve seen you dont think the couple are the type to take down on their luck virgins, take their innocence and then kick them out. but after yesterday's events you cnt risk putting all of your trust into someone.

after you finish getting ready, you head downstairs, your mind instantly leading you to the large living area downtairs that you pass on your way to the dining room. the floors in the hallways are hard and the sound of your footsteps alerts your hosts to your presence.

"ah, you're finally awake! come, sit with us. we've got some tea and muffins here if you're feeling hungry." oscar welcomes you, motioning to a spot on one of the plush red couches and the treats on the table surrounded by them. jessica is sat lounging on one of the couches, a thick book in her hand.

you give a strained smile, walking over to sit on the couch before pouring yourself some tea and chewing on one of the muffins. they watch you while you eat, the gazes going back to feeling almost haunting compared to the heated way they made you feel last night.

"as you already know, we have some things we'd like to discuss with you, my dear." jessica scoots closer to your seat, setting her book down on the table and giving you her full attention. she must be able to see the fright on your face because she immediately gets up and sits next to you, wrapping one of her arms around your shoulders to cuddle you. "trust me, it's nothing bad."

"at least nothing bad for you," oscar snickers, dodging his wife's light slap to his leg.

"all we ask is that you hear us all the way through, alright?" jessica asks and cuddles you closer when you nod.

you understand her request when they explain what's been happening to you. apparently, they had been visiting the town in secret for a few months now, and after seeing you in a bar on their first trip they'd gone back frequently to watch you.

the way they explain it makes it seem like they're practically enamored and your heart is starting to hurt with how fastly it's beating.

but they know and give you a moment to relax and take it in, because they can tell when you're upset or overwhelmed. because they also tell you that they are vampires.

it takes everything in your power not to burst out laughing, but as they look at your face it all starts to make sense. the way they only apparently to drink a dark red wine, so thick that you wondered how it could be possible, how they were already enjoying their day in the middle of the night. the coldness of their skin.

"we understand it's a lot to take in. but we have one more thing to ask you." oscar questions while cozying up to the other side of your body.

you nod your head, figuring it couldn't become more shocking than what they've already told you. you're surprised at your calmness, thinking back on how you from a year ago would most likely be running for the hills now.

"we dont want you to just be a maid here. we want you to become one with us," jessica explains, the hopeful smile on her face near blinding, "vampire culture is a bit different than regular human culture so you can marry us if you'd like."

"but we would never rush you." the lord takes your hand in a gentle kiss.

"of course not. we just...we've never felt this way about anyone but each other. but your kindness and your character and your beauty...we couldn't help but to fall in love with you."

you can feel the start of tears forming in your eyes. despite a small rational part of your brain telling you its a trick, that they might just be doing this to reel you in and drink you dry, you believe them. you cant help to when they look at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

"i...yes. i want to be with you." you sigh, letting out a string of giggles when they hug you from each side. it's suffocating and warm and it's the best hug you've ever had.

"gods, you're perfect. this is perfect, we'll tell the maids to prepare more on things to get you accommodated, we made you a few outfits just in case but you'll need more, not to mention more of your favorite foods and-"

you and jessica share a fond but teasing look at her husbands' rambling, the man quickly rushing out of the room as he calls for some of the maids to make preparations.

despite your happiness, you let out a strained sigh at the bubbling anger you felt from last night. everyone on the village called these two beautiful beings monsters in the night while they had treated you poorly based on a liars word of mouth. it fills you with a rage you don't know what to do with.

"what is it, y/n?" jessica inquires at your sudden change of mood. when you explain your anger she agrees, telling you how the worst part of looking at you from afar was seeing how people treated you like less than them.

"among our kind the art of killing humans is rather taboo these days. nothing like how it was when we were children."

"what if it was for a good reason?" you shock yourself with your question, and jessica too based on the look on her face.

she slowly starts to smile. "i think you're going to like it here with us."

#oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #jessica chastain x reader #jessica chastain #oscar isaac x jessica chastain x reader #smut #fluff #polyamory #vampires #vampire x reader #vampire couple #vampire sex #rpf #oscar isaac rpf #jessica chastain rpf

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sandeoki · 1 year

Text

His to protect pt. 2

summary: Y/N a hero, loved and respected by all. Seonghwa a villain, feared and frowned upon by all. both have been enemies ever since they can remember but what happens if Y/N appears at Seonghwa's doorstep at the middle of the night, all bloody and bruised?

t.w: swearing, mentions of death, violence, slight yandere vibes, rude!hwa, sassy!hwa, mention of blood etc.

< pt. 3 >

she was tired, her lungs were on fire and her feet were numb. her pace was getting slower and the people following her were getting faster. they were catching up. she couldn't run anymore.

she wanted to give up, to stop, take a breath and to rest. but she doubted the people following her would allow her to take a 'time out' and alas, she was right.

just as her pace slowed due to exhaustion, a large hand roughly pulled her shoulder, making her face a man clad in a black coat and pants. he looked like an agent straight out of a science fiction novel.

Y/n didnt have much time to judge his appearence before she was harshly pushed again. her back hit the stone wall and she realized just how doomed she was.

she was trapped between the stone wall and the man who looked as if he was about to kill her. she had nowhere to hide, nowhere to run off to. she had no escape.

tears starting rolling down her cheeks as she saw the man take a knife out of his pocket. just as she went to shout, her mouth were covered by the man's dirty hand. it made her shudder with fear and disgust.

all she could do was watch in fear as he bought the knife down to kill her, waiting for the pain to come. just as the knife was about to rip her apart, a bright light filled her vision.

she felt a striking pain fill her head as she sat up with a gasp. she looked around the unfamiliar surrounding. she was in a room, but it wasnt hers.

the room was well decorated and organized. the walls were a mixture of shades of beige, cream and white while the floor was carpeted. it certainly looked like it belonged to some kind of royalty.

she was laying on a king sized bed in the middle of the room, all tucked up and warm. she was still in her dirty and bloody hero costume but her wounds had been bandaged.

she tried to get up but failed, it was as if her legs had forgotten how to work. after a few minutes which seemed like an eternity to her, she managed to stand. just to stumble over thin air. right as she was about to break her nose, a gentle hand caught her.

"i thought you were better than this, you gremlin. falling over nothing? really? tch, shouldn't have underestimated your clumsiness" a voice all to familiar to her teased.

she pulled herself out of the the arms of her captor or well savior and straightened up. "why am i here?"

Seonghwa couldn't help but roll his eyes. "i dont know, you tell me? what the hell were you doing at my front door at 3 in the morning, looking as if you just escaped death?"

Y/n stiffened, she couldnt tell him how she ended up like this. she knew he could find many ways to use that information against her. telling him would be a dumb move.

"what's it to you?" she grumbled out with her jaw clenched and anger visible on her face. "stop right there princess, if it hadn't been me, you would have been dead by now. dont you dare get smart with me. you know i dont like brats, little hero"

"as if i care about your liking. why am i here? why am i still alive? aren't we like, i dont know, enemies? shouldn't you have like, you know, killed me..?"

"calm down tiger, we may be enemies but i'm not a monster. i would never try to harm you when i know you cant fight back. now if you are done with your interrogation, i have some questions for you too. and you know how much i hate dishonesty, so you better answer them properly."

the 'otherwise' was left unsaid but y/n got the hint. all she could do was nod her head like an obedient child. "are your wounds still hurting?"

her head snapped up, she was expecting him to ask something like 'why she was being chased' or 'what information was she hiding'. this was a shock to her.

"uhh no...?"

"are you telling me or asking me?"

"why does it matter anyways?" she snapped. it was after she saw his glare that she realized how big of a hole she had dug for herself.

"lister here and listen well, you puny hero. if you think you can run that cute little mouth of yours around me, then think again. if i want to know how you are feeling, you will tell me how you are feeling, understood?"

all she could do was nod as tears filled her eyes. the same hand which had stopped her fall now came to rest under her chin as he sighed.

"shush now, i didnt mean to be so harsh, calm down little dove. save those preety tears for some other occasion, hmm? clean up while i make some soup for you, why dont you? and after you are done, you are going to tell me who did this to you so that i can track that bastard down and crush his neck myself."

#ateez #ateez x reader #che.rry ateez #hero x villain #hero! reader #villain! seonghwa #ateez imagines #yandere! seonghwa #ateez yandere #ateez fic

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youmarin · 4 months

Text

Now Recruiting! ft. Inarizaki VB Boys - Part 8: Inarizaki v.s. Itachiyama

Summary: It’s time for the Summer Interhigh Tournament. Rivals face each other. And after, what will the next semester bring to the boys and Miss Manager?

Word count: 3,690 + Extra 12 (214)

previous, series masterlist

“Oi! I’m leaving, you know! Exhausting yourselves won’t help you out.”

“Just one more.” The setter said as he made his starting run. One. Two. Three. Four. Jump floater. Suna, who was on the other side of it, wasn't able to discern the real trajectory - or maybe he was already tired and began to half ass-, and took position too far up front. He received it. The only problem is he did so with his face. “Holy fuck!” Atsumu cursed and ran over to him.

“Suna!” You dropped the other volleyballs you had picked up on the cart - didn’t want to risk anyone tripping on one and getting injured. One’s never too safe- and ran over to check up on the dark haired boy lying on the ground.

“Are you okay?” You leaned over him from one side. He was blinking, probably trying to make out what had just happened to him. And there were three of you looking down on him. If he wasn’t worried by the simultaneous numbness and hurt he felt on his face he might’ve thought he was having a dream.

“He should be okay. If it were a spike serve he might’ve passed out.” Everyone finds reassurance differently, you guessed.

“I’m fine.” He tried to sit by grabbing the hand Osamu was offering. He missed it.

“Think you might’ve given him a concussion?” Osamu tried again and gently helped him sit. Suna’s head spun for a moment but it slowly came back to focus. “What day is it?”

“2nd of August.” Suna answered as you inspected the red spot on his forehead, brushing his hair away from his face.

“Who hit ya straight on your snout?” No answer. “Oi. Suna, I’m speaking to you.”

“What?” He briefly looked away from your concerned eyes and looked over to where Osamu was by one side before returning to look at you. “Oh. ‘Tsumu did.”

“Okay, y/n, Imma need you step out for a moment.”

“What?” You looked at him, confused.

“You’re clearly distracting him. I can’t consider the integrity of this test if I don’t know if he’s concussed or just crushing on you.”

“Well, okay.” You left, still worried yet a bit flustered. “I’ll bring the first aid kit.”

Kita gave the team a fearsome earful for not going home after the countless times he told them to, making them warm up properly before leaving -and 10 extra laps to make things interesting-. After making sure that Suna was okay -Suna’s punishment got a rain check, but for now he was staring at his fellow second years, Akagi and a couple of first years, thinking he was on the clear- , you took care of his nosebleed, sitting on the court’s left side bench. He felt so lame right now. “I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious.”

“Of course it’s serious.” Suna answered, “Atsumu could’ve broken my nose or ruined my face.” You laughed.

“Well, he didn’t. But someone else might someday if you’re continuing this career path.”

“Not if I actually receive with my arms.”

You fell in a comfortable silence as you worked. You tilted his head and moved to wipe the blood off his lips and nose .

“How are you feeling?” You asked after a while. Suna straightened up and seeing as he wasn’t bleeding over his face and t-shirt anymore you considered it safe.

“I’m okay.” He nodded, trying to ignore how his surroundings blurred when he did. But when he stood up, you noticed the gone look that flashed in his eyes for a second.

“You’re still dizzy, aren’t you?” you quirked a brow, then chuckled softly, “Here.” proceeding to wrap one of his arms around your shoulders and put one of yours around his torso.

***

Everyone was busy. From afar, you could hear the faint melodies while the school band rehearsed. The cheering squad gathered their team and practiced their routines and mottos - the captain even asked if you were interested in joining them like last time-, and as every year it was expected that a great part of the student body would attend to support their team. It was a big moment for the whole community. Thankfully, the boys were used to all of it, and rather than feeling pressure over it, they couldn’t be more excited. They knew the extent of their capabilities and their responsibility. And as their team captain always said: There’s no point in being nervous if you know what you can do.

***

“Where’s y/n?”

“She has a talent of disappearing without anyone noticing.”

“It’s quite scary if you think about it.”

“She hasn't left. Her stuff’s on the bleachers.”

“I can’t wait to get over with this.”

“I know. I bet it’s been awfully hard for you to keep your mouth shut.”

“Guys,” They all turned when they heard you, “c’mon, we have to leave soon. Don’t even think of extra practice time today- Wait. What are you up to?” You eyed them warily. The boys were all huddled in a group, each set of eyes looking in your direction pairing with innocent smiles - which inspired the opposite of innocent intentions. No one could blame you for being suspicious -.

“We have a surprise for you.” Osamu said, stepping up. His twin grabbed what he was holding and didn’t give him a chance to protest before he was handing it over to you.

“A-A what? Why?” After all, you thought you were the one supposed to prepare them a gift given the occasion. You stared at the box with a little bow on top, then straight to the blonde’s smiling face and at the rest of the boys, at a loss for words.

“When someone offers you a present you don’t ask such questions. Just accept it.” Aran encouraged.

You reached for it, brushing hands with the setter as you grabbed it. “Thank you.”

“But since you asked,” Osamu started after glaring at his brother as you opened it and saw it, “We wanted you to know, if you still hadn’t figured it out, that you are as important to us as any of the members of the team.”

“We appreciate all the work you do, your kindness and you taking care of us.” Kita added.

In your hands, you held a familiar fabric of equally familiar colors. It was a shirt like the ones they used on their official matches: black, with the name of the team written in white bold letters on the front and your name on the back.

You felt warmth spreading all over your chest. They could be a handful sometimes, but this was your team and also your friends, and you were so proud of them.

You hugged the blonde boy in front of you , taking him by surprise yet he was quick to return it. When you pulled back, you beamed at him, and he was thankful the other guys joined for a hug and stole your attention from his burning face and pounding heart.

Morning came, and this morning was not one to wish to stay five more minutes in bed or to sit at the edge of it with your head lost in space. You were up in a beat, turning off your alarm before it could go off and dashing to the bathroom to get ready. Getting out, you got dressed up, your Inarizaki tee shirt under your jacket.

“Good morning.” your mom saluted, looking at you oddly for how animated you appeared this morning.

“Mornin’ mom.”

“Wait, you’re not having anything for breakfast?”

“Uh no,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before balancing on one leg while you put on one shoe, then doing so the other way, “I grabbed something for later though. Want to get to the club room before the boys to double check that everything's in order.”

“You have everything you need?” She asked and you ran over your mental note.

“Yeah, I think so.” You kissed her cheek goodbye when she came over to see you off, “I’m heading out. See ya later.”

“Good luck!”

All the boys were quiet during the ride over to the gymnasium where Interhigh Tournament would take place, and by all it means even Atsumu was sharing his earphones with his twin and was sitting quietly, bobbing his head softly to the beat of his music. He was lively, could even describe him as wild sometimes, but you could count on him to remain sober and serious on such big moments. Suna was nodding to whatever the captain was saying to him. It was a bit amusing and also endearing seeing him look a little nervous listening to Kita. Ginjima was speaking with his upperclassman Aran, while Omimi and Akagi chatted with the first years, which seemed to be the most nervous.

The gym was a large building, fit for the several matches that would be taking place simultaneously. You went with the coach and you were quick to find your section upon your arrival, leading the team inside. Bright lamps on the ceiling met your eyes as you looked up, taking in the scene, while the chilly air from the air conditioned space hit your face. Other teams were heading to their respective areas and some of the first contenders were already warming up on their side of the court.

Dropping their bags, the boys took off their school jackets and changed their tees to their uniform. Some put on their knee pads and arm sleeves before they all headed over to the court to start their warmup routine. Warmups and drills had also another purpose besides, well, getting ready for the game. It was also a time to show off; show your confidence, your skill to the opposite team, and what they were about to confront. If you knew how to do it, and the Inarizaki boys were infamous for that, you could lead them on with a bit of intimidation.

“C’mon show me your best one, ace.” Atsumu encouraged Aran, who gave his start before jumping in the air with excellent form and slamming the ball on the floor to the other side of the net with booming force. Smiling, the setter watched the ball bounce off, making eye contact with one of the players from the other team when he looked up, smile unwavering.

Other players achieved to make their rivals uneasy without meaning to. Kita was that type. As he carried out with his drills, purpose-set as usual, boys from the other team stared at the captain move seemingly effortlessly. Reputation also helped, as the known middle-blocker Suna Rintaro moved on the court with such familiarity as if he were back on the Inarizaki High gym.

Of course, they didn’t reveal everything then and there. It was only a taste before the real thing started. The boys were also good with the element of surprise.

The stands above began to fill up with students from the different schools of the prefecture and from outside, and volleyball fans overall. These sort of events always attracted people from all over, ages ranging from the youngest to the eldest.

You recognized your school, the band standing in their place and the cheering squad hanging the banner you had made on their spot. Soon enough, the ref blew his whistle calling for the coaches to hand him the information of their respective starting lineups and player positions. After, it was just a few more minutes before he called for the captains to decide which side served first.

When the boys’ first couple of matches were over and they’d won without major inconveniences, you rushed over to watch the other matches and keep track of the bracket.

“I think Inarizaki should be over too. You think they did alright?”

“Dunno. But if Miya plans to defeat us they better have.” The blonde may not be his favorite person, but the rivalry was there. And things wouldn’t be as interesting or fun without it.

At that moment as they turned to head over the court where your team’s match had taken place, Sakusa saw you coming.

“Y/n!” Motoya waved at you, “Good to see you.”

“Hi, guys.” you smiled, happy to find friends out of the multitude. They were carrying a towel around their shoulders and you took it as their most recent match had just finished as well. Sakusa’s otherwise neat kept locks were a bit messy, slightly damp by his sweat. His dark eyes emitted friendliness as he acknowledged you, even a small smile threatened to take over his features.

“Did you guys win?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You responded with a satisfied tone and knowing smile. “Did you?”

“You really had to ask?” Motoya said jokingly.

“So that means that if we both win our next matches,” you looked down at the papers on your clipboard.

“We’ll face each other.” Sakusa finished for you. “So you better make it.”

And both teams did make it and were bound to face each other.

The other matches had gone alright. The team never underestimated any of the others. Sure, someone could get a little over its head and there was a little taunting, but it was normal for players to mess with opponents psychologically.

But considering these two teams knew each other better, they felt as if there was this responsibility for each other to go all out for it to work and have a good match. Both teams didn’t seem as exhausted as they saluted each other in the middle of the court before their match started.

During the first minutes of the first set, the team made a few mistakes while the coach told them to get themselves together. He had to call for a time out before Itachiyama could further their lead. After that, things fell into a good rhythm for them and they took the first set.

The game went downhill for them from that point on. Itachiyama’s defense surpassed them, not letting a lot of the boy’s attacks land and prolonging the rallies. Even when both Suna and Aran were on the court they couldn’t earn enough points to steal another set. They knew how to find their weakest spots, and who to target. And things only got worse as the game continued and they grew more fatigued and frustrated.

Atsumu set the ball for Suna, but the latter wasn’t fast enough in his approach and had to hurriedly make the pass, without as much force as he would’ve liked.

“Feint!” Motoya called and another of the players called for the ball, easily receiving it. They spiked it over and Kita was there to readily pass it to Atsumu, who set it for Aran. The ace tried to hit over the blockers that were marking him, but the hit lost power as it hit one of the blockers' hands.

The road for Inarizaki ended with none other than Sakusa sending a spike over to their side.

The beginning of the second semester. Your second semester in your new school, and this time it wasn’t as daunting. Now, you had the boys from the volleyball team. You reached the school gates, and not long after crossing them, you found your fellow second years.

“Y/N!” Gin noticed you first.

“We gotta take a group photo.” Atsumu stated, leading Suna to ask a random student to take a picture of you. Awkwardly, the boy accepted Suna’s phone.

“Do we really have to?” First mistake.

“Are you saying you don’t want to take a photo with us? Do you even like us?”

“No! Of course not!- Wait. Hold up,” Nothing you were saying was coming up straight judging by his face. Even the other three seemed to deflate a little. “What I mean is that I do like you.” You said looking straight into the setter’s eyes. And why were his cheeks burning all of a sudden?

“Then why not take a picture?” Suna, who kept a digital record of everything he could, asked you. “It’ll be nice to look back at it.”

“I just don’t look very flattering in front of a camera.” you shrugged, trying to play down your insecurities. “Plus, we have taken plenty of photos together.” During games they always made you.

Of course, some of them had noticed you’ve been shy regarding the topic. But that wouldn’t be the end of it. “But we don’t have one of this moment.” Osamu said.

“If I may say, I think you’re very pretty, Y/n.” The boy, still holding Suna’s phone, nervously said. Suna quirked an eyebrow.

“Oh. Thank you.” Receiving compliments was nice. You wished you knew how to take them. It made you feel a little bad that you didn’t even know the boy’s name. But to be honest, you were bad with those too.

“Yes, she is. Glad your eyes are working dude. Now take the picture.” Atsumu shared his opinion but wasn’t thrilled to hear the boy shoot his shot right in front of his face. You ended up apologizing for him. Someone was a little on edge today.

They all looked at you, their expressions all saying, Please?

“Fine.”

Now, the other problem was picking where they would stand. Osamu ended up pushing his way between you and his twin, while Gin stood on your right. Since Suna was the tallest, he stood behind you. He whispered something in your ear, which made you smile and your face heat up.

After looking through the pictures, complaining about how he looked on some of them, the blonde finally broke down, “Did ya see that nonsense about a ceremony to recognize the team for our representation at Interhigh?”

You looked at the others searching for clues regarding the cause of Atsumu’s newest outburst, which was somehow related to the ceremony. Osamu’s expression denoted some sort of pain (now you had no doubt Atsumu was the cause of this pain), Gin hung his head, while Suna turned away, whistling. Thanks a lot, boys. Finally, your eyes settled back on the setter. “Uh… Yes, the coach sent me an e-mail about it. That’s great!-“ Osamu started gesturing and shaking his head. What? Did you say something wrong?

Okay, so the school wanted to recognize the volleyball team’s job in the tournament. Of course, there were some mixed feelings about it. The team had lost. But they’d reached semifinals and that landed them a spot at Spring High Nationals. They might’ve not won but still their hard work paid off. So that was good, right? That was what you thought before this conversation and the scene unfolding at the moment.

Second mistake.

“Oh yeah. Right. I mean, after all, the important thing is having fun. And second place is great.” Atsumu’s words were dripping with sarcasm. “We are the second best.” He gestured with his hands, making an arch. “It isn’t enough that we lost. No, they have to rub it in our faces calling us shitty names. Just outright call us a bunch of losers.” He muttered the last part. For a moment you had forgotten who you were talking to. Atsumu was one of the most competitive people you’ve ever met.

But still, he was dismissing a lot. “Okay, I get it. Second place might suck for you but you can’t just brush away all your and your teammates' sacrifice to get where you are.” There you were. They boys could always count on you to knock some sense into them. “But it’s good that you don’t settle. It makes you keep aiming high.” You smiled at him.

Atsumu stared at you for a moment. That funny feeling from the other day kept creeping and blooming all over his chest. And what was that fluttering on his stomach?

Osamu looked at him, waiting for his brother to speak again whether it be another complaint or another snarky comment. But when it took a few beats more than usual, it clicked to him.

“But…” Atsumu’s voice wavered a bit as he regained his composure and started walking behind you as you made your way to your classroom. The bell would ring soon. The rest followed you two. “It doesn’t mean I have to attend, right?”

“Uh, I think you should. You don’t want to be rude.”

“You’re saying that to one of the rudest, meanest people here.”

“I’m not mean!”

“Remember that girl that tried to give you homemade cookies she made herself and you said you weren’t interested in buying them?”

“It was a misunderstanding, Gin.”

“Sure it was.” Suna snorted, “And right after when she clarified, you didn’t accept them saying you had to take care of your weight.”

“We’re athletes. It’s very important to look after what we eat, and I didn’t know what she put on those.”

“You were stuffing your face right after eating pudding. And one of those was mine.”

“I told you I didn’t eat it!”

“Okay. That is pretty rude, Atsumu.”

“Whatever.” He frowned, “I’m not interested in any of those squealing girls. And this is besides the point.”

“Well,” you said, swerving back to the topic, “Think of it as a rehearsal. Years later, you become a pro player and something like this happens. You dislike it, but you go, show your face, be grateful,” You emphasize that point, “and then you leave. Even if you truly hate it. You can still complain all you want and we’ll hear you out.”

“ “We” sounds like a lot of people. I don’t know.” Ginjima scratched the back of his neck.

“Count me out.”

“I’ll hear you out.” you fixed.

“I guess I will too.” Osamu added. He didn’t think he'd have much choice. “And who knows, maybe one day you’ll learn about good sportsmanship.”

“Fake it ‘til you make it.”

“So you want me to be fake.” Atsumu stated.

“No.” you glared at Suna, hitting him in the arm - it felt more like a caress to him.-, making him chuckle. “Just,” you raised a finger, “Don’t be rude,” another, “be grateful,” the finale, “and go to your classroom you all.”

Extra 12: Shirt on or shirt off? [word count: 214]

“I’ll walk you to your dorm. I just need to arrange some things into the storage room first.” You said as you walked behind Suna towards their locker room and stood in the doorway while he grabbed his stuff, insisting on seeing him off safely.

“I feel better now. And it’ll be more late for you to get home. Who says I’ll let you go if you go with me?” Suna tried reassuring you and, why not, teasing you a little bit.

With lack of a response, he turned to look at you to find you blushing and mouth open to answer back, but settling on frowning.

Then your eyes traveled to his sweaty t-shirt, sticking to his chest and torso. A white tee, basically see-through at the moment, and the bloodstains on it. “Take your shirt off.”

Suna nearly knocks down the rest of his things. “What for?” Just how fast the tables turned. And the thing was you weren’t even trying to get him flustered.

“The blood. I might be able to get it off.” Then you turned around to give him privacy.

“Right.” He did as told. You reached your hand back for him to hand you the shirt, making him chuckle while doing so, and you were out of there.

A/N: Hello, dear readers! It’s been a while - a year 💀-. Happy 2024! I hope you’re all well and safe. I’m happy to see people are still enjoying and showing love to this series. And here we are with part 8! Funny, I started writing this part the day I posted part 7 and it took me this long to finish it. The extra was just added. I got a little confused with the tournaments’s stuff lol but I figured shit out (I think). Not that anything needs to be accurate but yk, helps the writing flow. Happy reading and see you next time, whenever that is! **slow updates**

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famwhy · 2 years

Text

Frustration

Yandere Neighbour (Jung Hi)

Word Count: 4,052

A small breath of air leaves your lungs, eyes half-lidded and makeup a mess. A light growl emitted from your stomach, your hands immediately moving downwards to lightly pat it. Another sigh escapes you, the exhaustion within you preventing you from allowing any feeling other than disappointment fill you.

"'Nother disaster date, Noona?" A familiar voice makes its way to your ears, eliciting a reaction from you.

"Was I that obvious?" A small, tired smile crossed your face as you turned to the voice of the familiar person who lived in the apartment next to yours.

"You know, Noona, even when your makeup is a mess, you still look so pretty." There, stood with the usual mischievous smile on his face, was the pinkette you grew to adore, Jung Hi.

Your smile twitched up the slightest bit more as you reached over to ruffle the locks of the male before you. "Thanks Hi."

"My haiirrrrr." He whined, reaching his hands up to fix his locks which were usually in a disarray anyway.

"Get to sleep, Hi, it's too late for you to be up." Your words came out half-slurred, your movements sluggish as you reached for your keys.

"I had to make sure you were okay before going to sleep." The sweet boy sent you a smile, much unlike the man-whore you were with just moments before.

"You're too sweet." Finally opening the door to your apartment, you sent a wave towards the pinkette. "G'night Hi."

"G'night, Noona."

And with that, you shut the door on his face.

♡

"Noona! You're still as pretty as ever!"

"Not now, Hi, I'm so tired." The frown sent your way almost made you give in right then and there. Almost. "Tomorrow, okay?"

"Alright..."

♡

"Noona, you're so beautiful!"

"Awww, you're the sweetest, Hi."

"Anything for you! Um.. Noona... do you think we could-?"

Slam.

"..."

♡

"Noona, you're so gorgeous!"

"How nice of you to say, Hi. You're such a gentleman."

"Only for you. Noona, do you think-?"

Bzzzzt.

"Oh, hang on, I need to answer this."

Slam.

"..."

"Wait, Y/N! I swear it was just a fling, I'm only into you!"

Ah yes, yet another failed attempt at finding love. You shouldn't be surprised, it's happened so many times that you've started to resent men. The only faces that belonged to men that you don't mind seeing is your brother's and Hi's. The two were sweethearts and kept your view of men from turning to shit.

"Look, I'm no longer interested in you so please leave me alone." Had this been your first time with a scummy man, you would have slapped him and ran away but at this point, you were used to it and had grown numb to the feeling.

Besides, you didn't even know this guy's name, it was literally your first date. What? Did he think you were an idiot? Going on about how 'you're the only one he's into'? Yeah right, good luck next time buddy.

Walking to your apartment once more, you contemplated taking a break from dating for awhile. It would be good to focus on yourself, right? Self-care was always important.

Creak.

Your head snapped in the direction of the apartment next to yours, eyes landing on a male (who looked to be quite tall) exiting Hi's apartment. His hair cascaded down to his waist, tied up in a ponytail that swished with every step he took. His golden orbs caused your breath to hitch in your throat, enrapturing you with how gorgeous they looked.

What a handsome man...

Too bad he was probably a scumbag.

You turned your attention back to your neighbour, flinching back upon seeing the expression on his face.

His expression was... dark. His eyes no longer holding a glint in them and his lips thinned out into a straight line instead of the usual mischievous smirk. His stare seemed dead and his demeanour off-putting.

It was terrifying.

But as quick as it was there, it was gone.

"Noona! You're back!"

It made you wonder if you were imagining things.

"Who was that, Hi?" You tilted your head to the side, nodding in the direction of the male who wore a suit.

"That was my friend." He answered your question, "But don't worry about him, you look so so beautiful, Noona."

"Thanks... Hi..." Something about his compliment felt a little off compared to every other compliment he gave you. You didn't like it.

"No, really, you're so amazing, Noona. Your looks are only a small reason for why I love you." Well, Hi sure seemed to be full of surprises since you came back from your 'date'.

"You're so cute, Hi." Deciding to shrug his behaviour off, you reached over to ruffle his hair once more...

Smack.

You stared at him with wide eyes, cradling your stinging hand up to your chest.

Hi seemed just as shocked as you, his expression contorting into a somewhat apologetic one. "Noona! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hit you like that! I-!"

"It's okay, Hi, maybe I should head inside. You don't seem like yourself today."

Slam.

"..."

"It's not fair though..."

"Noona!"

"Oh, hello Hi! Do you need something?" Hi looked baffled by your response - was he expecting you to react differently?

"I just wanted to apologise about yesterday. I didn't mean to smack your hand away." The way his head lowered to the ground and his expression sunk made it so hard for you to be mad at him. How could you be mad at such an adorable young man?

"It's okay, Hi, we all have our off days." You sent him a forgiving smile. "Besides, how could I ever stay mad at someone as cute as you?"

"... t.. ..e ma.. ... .e."

"Sorry? Could you repeat that?"

"I want you to be mad at me!" The sudden rise in volume caused you to flinch away from the grey-eyed male. "Why won't you get mad at me?! Why won't you hate me like you do every other man?! Why do you look at me with that glint that I know is love but not in the way I want it to be in?! The way I need it to be in!"

"What do you mean 'why'? Do you want me to be mad at you? I could never hate you like I do other men. You're like-."

"DON'T YOU DARE FINISH THAT SENTENCE! How do you not see?! I'm in love with you damnit! I always have been! But you've never noticed! Or is it that you have noticed but still continue to treat me that way?! How could you do that to me, Y/N?! Why do you always shut the door on me before I even have a chance of asking you out?! Why do you play with my feelings like this?!"

He stopped to take a breath.

"EVERY DAY I am tortured and forced to watch you go on a date with a new man, hoping to find your true love, how are you so blind that you can't see he was right in front of you this whole time?! I'm right here! Stop looking for someone else! Please..."

You watched with frightened orbs as he collapsed to the ground, sobs leaving his mouth as tears streamed endlessly down his face.

You didn't know you had hurt him this much. You thought it was a mere crush that would pass by, but for it to develop to this - maybe it was best if you quickly made your way out of Hi's life. It would hurt, sure, but if you just being there was affecting his mental stability this much, then you'd prefer leaving his life completely.

"Oh, Hi... I'm so sorry." In a last attempt at consoling both him and yourself, you crouched down and reached towards him - intending to help him up.

"I can help myself." His cold tone as he pushed you away was enough for you to snap out of it.

"Oh... well... bye... Hi..." Getting up with a sigh, you made your way over to your apartment door, ready to shut it and distance yourself from the male you had grown attached to forever.

"Wait." A foot wedged its way between the door and the frame, preventing the wooden barrier from shutting. "It's not fair..."

You remain silent.

"It's not fair! I didn't choose to be associated with your goddamn brother for fuck's sake! I wanted you to see a lover in me! Not a stupid family member! I never had a chance and it's not fucking fair!"

"I'm sorry, Hi, I can't control how I see you. It's unfortunate but I see you as a little brother, I really do, and I'm sorry if you're not okay with that but that's the only way I'll ever see you. If you don't want that... then I'm afraid we can never speak to one another again." When he didn't respond, you only sighed. "Goodbye Hi."

Click.

♡

"Noo-."

Slam.

"..."

♡

"Ah, plea-."

Slam.

"..."

♡

"Hear me ou-!"

Slam.

"-t..."

It had been about 2 weeks since you had started ignoring your friend neighbour, Hi. It pained you to slam the door on his face but what had to be done, had to be done. You were clearly impacting his mental health negatively so you had to shut him out of your life as soon as possible, even if it hurt you to do so.

These last few weeks, you hadn't been going on any dates at all, too overwhelmed with guilt to even consider looking at another man in a romantic way. Was it really that painful for Hi to see you with another?

A low exhale left your nose as you fiddled with your keys, the heavy weight on your shoulders growing worse with each lingering moment spent outside your door.

If only you could-.

"Gah!"

A yelp escaped your lips as your body was suddenly pulled in a completely different direction, shocking you enough to jump.

The familiar apartment of a certain pinkhead revealed itself to you, instantly letting you know of what (or rather who) was the cause of your sudden change in route. With a stern gaze, you addressed the male. "Hi, don't do that. I thought I already made it clear to you that I do not wanna talk to you."

"I know but we never properly talked it out." His sunken expression slowly melted your stern one, faltering your stance and making you want to go in for a hug.

No, Y/N, stop it. This is for his own good.

"We-."

"Please, Y/N." You froze.

He used your real name.

He only used that when he was being really serious.

...

It wouldn't hurt to just hear him out, right..?

With a sigh, you motioned for him to continue.

"Thank you!" He lit up like a Christmas tree, eyes holding a hint of the sparkle that used to be so common on him before. "Please, sit." You did as told, sitting down on the comfortable single couch near his TV. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Uh, sure." As he went to go fetch you a beverage, your eyes wandered around the room.

It looked a lot more messy than when you last visited. Pieces of clothing splattered everywhere as beer cans scattered the floor, each one empty and forgotten. The large amount of tissues that were laying around made you wince and scoot your legs away, disgusted by the mere sight.

What was strange, though, was the fact that there was not a single hint of a horrid stench within the room. Instead, there was a lavender smell - one you expressly remember telling Hi that you enjoyed and very much loved. Had he sprayed the room before you arrived? Now why on Earth would he go out of his way to do that when he didn't even bother cleaning it up?

"Here you go." You were snapped out of it as your neighbour placed a cup in front of you, the contents of which were a pinkish tint. "Sorry about yanking you in earlier, it was an impulse decision."

Impulse decision? Hm.

"It's alright, Hi, I understand." Your eyes landed on his form and you were allowed a brief moment to study him.

The darkened crescents resting under his eyes were unusual, Hi was never one to miss a beat when it came to his looks after all.

Come to think of it, everything about his looks were unusual. His hair was in a bigger mess than normal, his clothes an absolute disarray - not to mention, his beloved accessories were no where to be found on his person. He was a complete and utter disaster.

"So, it's been awhile, hasn't it?" As he sat on the couch next to the one you were seated at, he gazed at you with tender eyes.

"It sure has." Averting your orbs, you made no move to continue the conversation.

"You still look as pretty as ever." You showed no signs of saying anything. "I missed you, Noona. So so much."

When your lips stayed sealed, Hi frowned.

"Y/N, I don't like the way you decided to deal with this." His tone was strong, voice unwavering. He was much more mature-sounding than the Hi you knew. "I don't like that you didn't consider talking it out and instead, chose to avoid me completely."

You felt like a child being scolded by a parent. Oh the irony.

"Please, Y/N, let's talk it out."

"Okay." You lifted the cup to your lips, sipping on the substance within it. "Let's talk it out."

"Thank you." The bright smile that crossed his lips was more like the Hi you knew. "Noona, I love you. I have for a while now. My feelings for you are strong and will not go away within the blink of an eye. I would like a chance, a chance to be able to charm you into becoming mine. That's all I ask of you."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Hi." Your eyes closed as a small puff of air left your lips.

"Why not?" Although you could not see his face, you could hear the frown in his voice.

"You know why." You brought the cup up to your lips and took another sip.

"You know why I'm upset then. It isn't fair that you immediately associated me with your younger brother. You didn't even give me a chance to woo you, you won't even give me one now." His voice grew increasingly more frustrated as he spoke, not as much as a few weeks ago but still more than what was usual for him.

"I know... but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about it. I've always thought of you that way, I can't just.. suddenly get rid of my feelings like that y'know?" The awkward grin you sent him was returned with a deadpan.

"Really?"

"I'm sorry, okay?! I can't really do anything, I'm so sorry Hi, I really am. I just... I can't look at you the same way you do me. You're just too young."

Damn him. He was making you feel guilty even though you didn't really do anything wrong. Now this was unfair.

"I'M TWENTY-!" He caught himself before he could further convince you of his mental state not really being that up to par. "We're only 4 years apart."

"4 years is a lot, I wouldn't even have known you existed if we attended the same school."

"There are so many couples that are 10 years apart! What's wrong with 4?"

"I'm not comfortable with it, is all." The guilt coursing through you was immense in size.

"So what? You don't wanna date me because I was born a few years after you? Something which I can't even control?"

You said nothing.

"You're always looking for love and going on dates with other men, I hate it. They always go wrong in some way or the other and yet you still go on them! How can you not see that the true love you've been searching for has been right in front of you this whole time?! No man could hold a candle to me when it comes to pleasing you! Why do you still go on these awful dates every day?!"

Once again, you didn't respond.

"I just-! I love you so much, Noona, it hurts."

"I'm sorry, Hi, I really am but... I can only see you as a brother."

...

"I know." His sudden acceptance was quite surprising considering his earlier frustration.

"Wait, you-." A sudden wave of exhaustion crashed into you, loosening your finger that were wrapped around the cup given to you.

That's... weird.

"That's why I can't let you leave." The shift in his tone of voice successfully made him sound and look a lot darker than he was before.

"Yuh-you..." Ah, he drugged you..? So that was the pink tint within the tea... Huh, you never expected this from him...

"Oh Noona." You hadn't realised, as you were in a state of daze, that he had walked up to you and was now crouched down before you - his hand resting on your cheek as he softly caressed it. "Even in the state you are in right now, you still look so pretty."

Those were the last words you heard before everything faded away.

When you gained consciousness once more, a cold shiver shot itself down your wrists and to the rest of your body. Unable to ignore it and continue to sleep, your eyes fluttered open.

Immediately, you were met with an unfamiliar setting - or well, unfamiliar setting to wake up to.

This was Jung Hi's room. You knew from how often you had been invited over before.

You moved to sit upright - or, well, you tried to. However, your attempts were proved to be unsuccessful when you kept being tugged back down.

After tumbling over for the umpteenth time and landing awkwardly, you groaned. "Handcuffs? Really?!"

Right. Right. You were just kidnapped by your neighbour, someone who you thought of as a little brother - which is the exact reason why he kidnapped you in the first place...

Hm, you seemed to have gotten yourself in quite the pickle.

Creak.

"Ah, Noona! You're up!" Speak of the devil and he shall appear. "How do you like the room? I didn't have time to prep much but I did add that scent that you always adored!"

"Hi." You regarded him as one would a child. "Please let me go."

"You're doing it again." The way his expression changed so quickly was terrifying to you. "You're treating me as though I'm a child."

"I'm so-."

"NO! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOUR APOLOGIES! I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME!"

The shatter of a vase caused you to flinch, huddling away from the male at the door out of instinct.

"Why are you-?!" His eyes widened, it seemed like he had realised something. "Oh no, Noona, I would never hurt you. I only have love for you, you'll never feel my wrath, I swear to you."

Those eyes, those eyes that were once filled with such innocence and love, were now filled with corruption and infatuation.

And to think, it was all because you refused to see him in any romantic light at all.

Oh well, you'll have the rest of your life to develop feelings for him. It doesn't matter, he'll wait.

As long as it takes.

Oh Noona, you're so pretty.

BONUS!

"You have a crush on your neighbour?" The male with long locks rose a brow as he questioned his friend.

"Yup! Noona is so beautiful and so very kind! I tell her every day and she laughs it off before messing up my hair." Hi sent a happy grin towards the blonde.

"Aren't you worried that she's brother-zoned you?" Upon hearing the words come out of his companion's mouth, Hi's grin slowly faltered.

"Brother.... zoned?"

Brother-zoned?

Is that why you kept going on dates with other men despite his endless amount of compliments and affection he threw at you? You thought of him as a brother...?

"Yeah, does she have a little sibling?" The man bearing a suit continued his questioning.

"Yup! A little brother." Hi's head bounced up and down.

"How old is he?"

"Twenty! Just like...! Me..." Slowly but surely, Hi's happy expression sank, thoughts rushing through his head at 1000 miles per minute.

"Don't you ever think that she misses him and is projecting her feelings onto you? I mean, you're his age and the same gender as him. From the looks of things, you probably share a similar personality to him as well." The tallest guy in the room voiced his concerns but his friend paid him no mind, too busy succumbing to his own thoughts and worries to be able to respond.

Leo was probably right, you saw Hi as a little brother. That must be why you treat him the way that you did. Every time you see a guy, you always scowl or scoff due to your horrible experiences with men but when it comes to Jung Hi, the only thing you can manage to form is a smile along with ruffling his locks. This whole time he thought you did that because you favoured him over the others. Sure, you probably did favour him over the others but that was only because you didn't even see him as a man! Just a boy that needed to be taken care of! It all made so much more sense now! Why couldn't he see all of this before?!

This whole time he was trying to woo you, you didn't even see him as a suitor! You were looking through rose-coloured lenses! That's just-!

"Not fair."

"Huh?"

"IT'S NOT FAIR, HYUNG! I'VE TRIED MY HARDEST TO WIN HER OVER ONLY TO FIND OUT THAT SHE NEVER EVEN SAW ME THAT WAY?! ALL BECAUSE SHE HAS A DAMN BROTHER THAT IS MY AGE AND ACTS LIKE ME?!" Hi's voice raised so suddenly, Leo flinched back and fell back onto the sofa he had apparently risen from during Hi's inner monologue.

"Hey, hey, it's okay Hi." Leo got back up and approached his friend with long strides, slowly placing his hand onto the pinkette's back and patting it lightly. "I'm sure that if you explain to her about how you feel, she'll give you a chance."

Hi's breath grew steadier as his vision slowly started clearing up, his rage dissipating. "You're right, I'm sure Noona will understand. Thanks Leo."

The model mere smiled his friend's way before heading to the door. "Thanks for having me over, Hi."

"Of course! Such a shame Sol couldn't make it." Hi's bottom lip jutted out by the slightest amount, his expression appearing playful but his eyes being anything but.

As Leo made his way out of the door, Hi spotted your figure outside of your own door, your eyes stuck on the figure of his model friend.

Hi's expression turned dull as his stare became somewhat unsettling.

Were you looking at Leo as though he was the only man there? Why did you not notice Hi? He's a man too damnit!

He'll show you...

He'll show you just how much of a man he is.

#yandere #jung hi #yandere male #x reader #female reader #yandere x reader #tw kidnapping #love unholyc #yandere neighbour

265 notes · View notes

slowee00 · 5 months

Text

• — SYSTEM X • ARC 1

• BY SLOWEE00/SLOoORE

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#—𝟶𝟹 • 𝙼𝚢 𝚃𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 목표

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❌ MASTERLIST + INFO + WARNINGS

first two - three chapters are old. Bare with me.

CHAPTER WARNGING(S): swearing, blood, two flashbacks

If you could describe your situation now in three words it would be confused, terrified, and tired.

You could barely hear your phone's speaker as you bolted for your life. Both legs in action despite skipping leg day while your lungs burn like they were being set on fire.

"Miss L/n, do you hear me!?" The speakers on your phone repeated.

"Yes, YES- WHAT?!?" You shouted, still sprinting to your car. You brought your phone to your ear to hear him better despite having a foggy mind. You frantically got your key out, finger fighting to find the right one to unlock your car with ease so you can slip in and drive away. Your phone in between your ear and your shoulder.

"Listen I know this is bad, ok? just-"

"I know, I know, I mean- I don't even know you, how do I know if I can even trust you?" You said still sprinting towards your car all while turning to the elevator that got farther away the more you ran. But surprisingly, no one was there. Or at least yet.

"Don't go running to your car!" You heard him faintly shout.

It was like a ring in your ear. Hitting a nerve in your brain that stopped your entire body on the spot; stopping yourself with a loud stomp.

You panted, letting a small snort escape through your nose. Your hand just barely grazing car's handle.

"Of course... if they’re here to kill me then they gotta be near my car..." your words stuttered in shock. Feeling your jaw go numb.

"Or in it.." He continued. You heard him let out a sigh of exhaustion.

"I know their mis-"

"And- and how do I know if you're not trying to kill me too?" You panted, slowly back away from your car.

The phone line went silent.

"S-so you are trying to kill me?" You said in a panic.

"No!" He barked.

You heard him sigh on the other end as your breathing began to slowly come back.

"My name... Is Seonghwa- Park Seonghwa... better?" his voice now somewhat soft.

"...a little.." you said under your breath.

You stared into your car's tinted window. It was your reflection. But as you looked closer, you noticed movement behind you. It was a human figure, coming straight towards you.

Just before the unknown figure could swing their arm towards you, you ducked, nearly missing he or her deadly hit.

You let out a small yelp, turning around on your knees and rear to look up to the person who could've gave you a terrible injury, if not that, death. They were staring right back at you. They wore a black plastic mask that perfectly gripped around their nose and mouth. They wore a full black suit with a harnesses wrapped around their waist, thighs and chest; knives and firearms sat in their holsters.

You shivered, trying to find their eyes in their black glasses as they made eye contact with yours; they tilted their head, making their m-hair follow their action.

Quickly dragging yourself out of your hiding spot and stood up, nearly stumbling. Your lips quivered as you stumbled back onto your feet, phone still in hand.

They were holding two electric batons, one in each hand. The one they swing towards you perfectly impaled your car's door, leaving a large slash, ruining its colour.

"Oh my g...gosh..." you stuttered, eyes wide while staring at the marking the mysterious person did.

"I just took off my insurance..." you mumbled as they pulled their electric baton free effortlessly.

"F/N! can you hear me?!" You heard Seonghwa yell on your phone.

You took a step back.

This wasn't a test. This was real. The male figure standing in front of you wore clothing and armor like they were ready to take a bullet at any time. The mask and shades are for hiding his identity. The black clothing on him is for creeping in the darkest corners. If you walk close to those corners, you will only meet to your end.

"RUN!"

And you did. You felt every muscle in your legs jump straight into action. You didn't look back once. You didn't even know where to go. No elevators or the stairwells. You were trapped.

"Miss L/N, hold on, I'm coming to stop them before they do anything serious," you heard him say on the other line. But couldn't help but notice a simple word that left his lips.

...They...

THEY!

"What do you mean by 'they!!" You yelled, your words sound desperate, your lungs nearly at its limit again. You wanted to slow down but you can still hear their fast pacing footsteps behind you, reminding you every time it would cross your mind.

"There's more!?"

You heard them stop running.

"...Yeah, there is..."

Suddenly hearing a metal whip sound instead.

"How many..?" You asked.

"..."

"HOW MANY!?!"

"Four..." he paused.

"..There's four..."

There were four people coming to bite your ass. But you didn't have time to process what the male on the other end said before you got cut off as you felt something being wrapped around your ankle.

Due to the sudden stop from your foot, you could only feel yourself fall. Spreading out your arms as you watched as your phone fell face-first onto the ground. You only heard the male on the other end yell your name before it went silent.

Your only hope. Gone. Just like that.

Your eyes widened as you were still processing what just happened. You reached out to double check but just like a snap, you felt yourself being dragged across the parking garage. Looking down at your foot, you saw a familiar thin yet thick metal wire wrap around your ankle.

Looking up, you saw the mysterious male figure that attacked you previously pulling on the wire. Drawing you back to them like you were nothing but a fish on a hook.

You let out small whimpers sounds of panic as the wire digs into the skin of your ankle. Your body dragged on the ground as you desperately tried to grab into something.

'What did I do to deserve this?!' You thought.

Just as you were close enough to them, they swung up the wire, making your body suddenly start to rise from the ground.

You let out a small scream before you felt your back slam against the windshield of a car. Your mouth open at the stinging pain, small moans, feeling the broken glass against your back. You don't feel anything impale you but you can feel the glass leave small cuts through your clothing.

You groaned in pain, barely able to open your eyes and reached to your back to feel for any blood and shards that piercing your body. Luckily none have but there was blood.

You heard them chuckle.

"W..what d..do you want from me?" You asked through breaths of pain, slowly pealing yourself from the broken windshield. Your baby hairs/bangs/hijab sticking to your forehead as you begin to sweat.

"Want..?" They answered in a low voice.

"I want nothing," they answered in Korean, their deep voice echoing through the parking garage. Their mask slightly muffling their voice.

"You're just my target."

[ Hours before Y/N (M/N) L/N attempted assassination ]

"You can't be serious..." Seonghwa said. Still in his velvet silk pyjamas, he was woken up to the recent temporary squad's new target.

Seo Hyung sighed, siping her hot coffee that fogged up her glasses. Her forehead sweated as a migraine began to slip in.

"How- Seo Hyung- we can't just-"

"I know....I know..." she trailed off.

They both stood in her office lost at what to do next. "She’s innocent?"

"I wouldn't say that..." Seo Hyung places down her mug on her desk. Releasing her legs from a crossing position and leans forward, placing her hands under nose, thinking hard.

"How?"

"Don't know...I’ll have to look into it."

She was stressed. Her hair was out of place and was also still in her pyjamas. She felt out of place, so unprofessional. Only Seonghwa was an exception see her in such a state.

"The new worker, told me he punched in the wrong coordinates- something like that... which is hard to believe because he’s been working here for over three years, so why did he fuck up now..?" She placed her coffee on her office's table.

She sighed. “If she dies… whoever knew her will have questions, if ANYONE finds out she dead, we’re fucked.”

Seo Hyung leaned back to rest her hand against her forehead. Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. "How so?” he questioned. You were a civilian. You were that important? ‘X’ rules are: Rule #3: stick the mission. Rule #2: kill the ones who were assigned, Rule #1: no civilians casualties.

“The police will get involved, others will get involved,” she paused. “Even if she survives or not, the media will go crazy, our enemies will know it’s us and go after her for information!” “Or the people she knows,” “Exactly! It would be just like agent 89 all over again…” You don’t get an easy way out of this. Either you die or you survive and pray it doesn’t go viral.

“Unless…”

"...Get her?"

"Get her."

[PRESENT]

You ducked, avoiding the male's punches and kicks. He sends another out only this time it was to distract you and instead, sent a hard kick at you but you deflected his foot and pushed him, making both you guys fall onto the cold concrete floor.

You both recovered quickly, shifting your weight onto your hand and bringing your legs up to do a flip forward. But what caught both of you guys off way the way you both did it in sync.

Both were in a crouching pose, watching one another. It was like a mirror. One hand on the ground and the other in the air for support. You had a feeling the male enjoying this as much as you were dreading it.

Running towards you, he kicked his leg up to your head but you leaned back just enough to avoid his attack. But he was too fast. Releasing his leg, he turned around, bringing his other leg to send a powerful kick to your stomach again.

You let out a groan of pain, feeling your already injured back against a cold concrete pillar. You held your stomach, feeling bruises painting your body repeatedly.

Your eyes recovered; sprung open just in time to dodge an incoming punch; landing right beside your head.

You both were close.

It was like a pause or a break you both took, in that moment you looked up and saw his fist penetrating the cold pillar's concrete. The white ash landed on your shoulder and cheek.

Such strength remains you of someone familiar. Such strength is impossible for a human being. If a natural human being had to attempt to penetrate something as hard as a concrete pillar, you can kiss that hand goodbye.

No, this strength wasn't normal.

A shift in his body brought you back to reality. It was only then when you took the opportunity to grip his trapped hand and send a punch to the male's face.

Despite being the same height, your strength wasn't on the same level as his. Therefore your punches were nothing more than child's play. But you weren't that weak. You managed to knock his plastic glasses and mask right off his face. You heard him let out a small growl of annoyance.

Though you did little work, it was enough to make an opening for you to run and make some distance.

He turned his head towards you, finally making direct eye contact with you. He had cold brown eyes gave him a dark persona, you couldn't help but notice a mole under his left eye.

In that moment you could feel the tension between you two. You watched him wipe the crimson liquid running down his nose with the back of his gloved hand.

In the moment you've realized something. You've realized where you are currently standing. You're fighting this random stranger that can possibly kill you in seconds. You have no phone to call for help. As far as you know they only help/hope you currently are holding onto is Mr. Park.

Your hands started to shake in fear. Yes, you may have skills to fight this man off for a while but you couldn't help but dread yourself. You haven’t fought in nearly a year.

He ran towards you as you were in a daze. Feeling his fist make contact with your nose. You held your nose with both hands, stumbling backwards.

You opened your eyes just in time to see him pull a gun out of his harness. But before he could point it to you, you planted your foot before swinging your other leg, twisting your body around and kicking the deadly weapon out of his grasp.

"Ha- I've haven't done that in a while," You said, shocked and mentally celebrating your small victory.

After losing his weapon, he swiftly swung his left arm to his thigh, quickly equipping himself with a large dagger.

"Oh come on.." You hist, bringing your arm up, ready to block his sharp weapon.

"If someone is coming towards you with a knife, you always bring your arm up and hit their forearm with yours, only then is when you keep it away from you." Natasha said in the boxing ring. A large knife swung around her finger, then stopping her action by completely holding the sharp steel properly.

"Let's give it a try, kid." She said, circling you.

"I don't think I can." Her dirty red hair glowed brightly under the titanium lights, you can almost make out every hair strand sticking out.

"Why not?"

"Because you're. Black. Widow." You said with a little attitude, plainly looking at her.

"And?." She remakes.

You signed. "You'll..” you paused. “You’ll just kill me, right?" You heard her chuckle. Startled, you looked up. To meet her green eyes.

"F/n," she said with a childish smile. "We're training for a reason, dummy." With the same smile, she got in her fighting position.

She beat you obviously. She always beats you.

You successfully dodged his incoming attack. But of course, he was stronger. So when your elbows met, he only pushed you onto your back against the hood of a car.

As if holding you down with his arms wasn't enough, he suddenly was now sitting on you, pinning you down completely from the waist up.

Crap, think!

You couldn't understand anything. This guy threw you onto a car and punched a dry concrete pillar effortlessly. So why isn't he using his full strength? You can feel his strength up against you but you know this wasn't his full.

You can feel the cold dagger inching closer to your throat.

This guy wasn't trying to kill you. Fast at least.

This guy is playing with you.

This guy was enjoying this.

You stared at his large dagger then to his dark brown eyes.

He was staring back into your eyes. His hair was messy and untucked. You guys stared at each other before you felt his knees reposition itself, shifting his weight, inching his deathly weapon closer to your throat.

Your hands and arm began to shake violently, turning you head to the side, in hopes of making distances between you and his weapon. Your nose crunched up and your eyebrows furrowed. This made the corners of his lips angle upwards slightly.

"I'll make this quick for the both of us, yeah?" He said, suddenly feeling his previous strength returning.

You went for the only last resort.

Using your legs as an advantage, you swung your knee up in between his crotch. Hard.

"Aah!" You cringed at the stinging feeling when your knee make contact with something hard instead of what you expected. Armor.

"...Try again, Princess," he says with the same small smirk.

You looked down for a second then back to his eyes.

"Oh of course," you said, but then an idea came to mind.

Using what's left of your strength to grab his much larger hands that held the weapon. Gripping it and pulling it away from you both. You tilt your neck to avoid it, and the dagger impaling the hoods of the car with ease.

This brought you both closer, the male's nose nearly hitting yours. But you had a plan. Bring back your head and swing it forward towards him and hit his nose with your forehead.

He groaned in pain, raising himself up and releasing his dagger to grip his nose.

You swung both legs from under his spread legs, keeping them together, and kicking the heavy male in the stomach and pushing him away from you; hearing him fall on the cold garage's floor.

You rolled over to meet the cold concrete under your shoes, regaining balance in your feet. You breathed heavily looking at him slowly beginning to recover from the small fall. Red liquid trickled down his nose to his peached colour lips. Iron rested on his tongue as he wiped the crimson blood with the back of his hand and lick the top of his lip, glaring at you through his long black oily bangs.

His eyes didn't hold excitement and pleasure. No, it held rage and annoyance.

He was getting serious.

Now you started to take a few steps back before turning around to attempt to make distance between you and this stranger. But immediately stopped apon nearly bumping into a familiar figure.

The long black leather coat on top of the ruby turtleneck, the eyelet decor buckle belt with long grey dress pants. His jaw was sharp along with his facial features. This was Indeed the man from the elevator.

NOTES

——————————

❌ - F/N thinks Wooyoung is handsome

❌ - Wooyoung is now finding F/N annoying

❌ Next Chapter >>

Taglist (anyone?)

@yayaistime

#ateez seonghwa #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #marvel universe #ateez #ateez au #ateez jongho #ateez mingi #ateez san #ateez wooyoung #ateez yeosang #ateez fanfic #ateez x fem reader #system x slooore #kpop x marvel universe

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