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doctorstethoscope · 3 years

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The Right Chapter 24 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Happy Saturday my loves! A little fluff/angst double whammy for your afternoon :)

contains: grouchy aaron, food mention, description of anxiety, canon-typical description of murder

wordcount: 2.4k

“I seem to remember you being the one lecturing me about the bureau’s generous sick leave policy not all that long ago,” You told Aaron as you gently shoved him back into bed three days after he’d broken his leg.

“I also recall that in that situation, you were the one who was injured,” Aaron grumbles, and you roll your eyes.

“Yes, and you stayed home to take care of me. Now, I’m returning the favor,” you reminded him.

“I’m not going to get a brain bleed, I just need the leg to heal. You don’t need to stay with me all day while I sit in bed.” He argues.

“You’re right, but I think we both know that if I wasn’t here, you wouldn’t stay in bed, and seeing as how you can’t get as far as the bathroom without my help, that might present a problem.” You chastise him. “I’m not coming home to you bleeding out in the hallway because you fell over and couldn’t help yourself.”

“You make me sound like I’m eighty years old.” he scoffed.

“Well, if you agree to wear a life alert, maybe I’ll go back to work.” You said, throwing your head against the pillows. There’s a few moments of silence, punctuated by Aaron’s deep sigh.

“I’m glad you’re here. Sorry I’m being grumpy.” He apologized. “I just don’t want you to have to take care of me.”

“You’re injured and in pain. You’re allowed to be grumpy,” you told him. “And I plan on taking care of you for the rest of my life, so you should start to get used to it.”

“Can I hold you for a little while? You don’t have to go near my leg,” he says, knowing you’ve been extra-gentle to avoid his injury since you’ve been home together. “You could put your head on my chest and I could just… hold you,” Aaron asks shyly, and your heart melts.

“Of course, baby.” you say, snuggling your torso in close, leaning your head against his pec and resisting the urge to toss your legs over his. “See? Sick leave isn’t all that bad,” you tease him.

“No, I suppose not,” he smiles, rubbing an arm up and down your back.

“Jack is so excited to have you home.” You comment.

“Not that it matters, I can’t even take him to the park or ride a bike with him.” Aaron grouses.

“Aaron, he’s over the moon just to have time to spend with you. He could sit here in bed with you watching Toy Story on a loop for the next six weeks and I’m sure he’d tell you it was the best month and a half of his life.”

“A month and a half… I’m gonna go crazy.” Aarom remarks, more to himself than to you.

“You’re gonna have to take up a hobby. Maybe knitting,” you snort, and Aaron smiles.

“Yeah, or braiding or something,” he agrees offhandedly.

“Braiding?” You ask.

“Oh, I mean, or maybe I could get back into Chess, finally get good enough to beat Spencer--”

“No, no, back up, what made you bring up braiding?”

“Uh… it’s just… something I’ve been thinking about in case we ever, you know, made a decision, and felt like maybe---”

“Aaron, spit it out,” you laughed.

“Just… if we had kids, or a daughter, I would want to be able to do her hair. Because if you’re not home, I don’t want to be the dad that doesn’t know how to do his daughter’s hair.” He confesses, the embarrassment clear in his tone. You place a kiss to his chest.

“You are a good man, Aaron Hotchner.”

“I’m glad you think so, anyways.”

“Alright, you’re getting grumpy and self-deprecating, which is a bad combo. You need a nap.” You instruct him teasingly.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, tightening his hold on you just slightly.

“Of course, love. You go ahead and rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

You went back to work a little over a week later, when Aaron was mostly off of his pain meds, and able to get himself around the apartment without any assistance. You were still staying there when you weren’t on a case, and found yourself grateful that you’d decided to sign a month-to-month lease-- you weren’t sure what the point was of keeping up the pretense of separate places anymore. But, then again, with Aaron injured, now probably wasn’t the best time for a move. You're working through a few scenarios in your head when Spencer interrupts your train of thought.

“How’s Hotch feeling?” He asks as you and the rest of the team board the jet to head home after a case.

“He’s doing better,” you tell him. “The pain isn’t bothering him as much and he’s getting a little bit of his range of motion back. I’m still trying my best to keep him in bed, but I’m sure you can imagine how well that’s going,” you tell him with a smile.

“Well, tell him I can’t wait to have him back. I hate all this paperwork,” Morgan cuts in with a playful chuckle, and you shove at his shoulder.

“I’m trying to keep him home, Derek. Besides, we all know that Spencer is doing most of the paperwork for you,” you called him out, and Emily and JJ laughed.

“He’s just so fast,” Morgan defends himself, and now everyone is laughing.

“We do want him back,” Emily tells you. “But not until he’s good and ready. And then, you know, maybe even a few weeks after that. Wouldn’t kill him to take a vacation.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” JJ smirks.

“Please, he’s already itching to get back to work. I think he’d leave me if I asked for a vacation.” You tell Emily.

“No, if you asked for a vacation he’d buy a plane ticket in an instant. And he’d bring his work phone and his computer to the beach and try to solve a murder from underneath a palm tree,” Morgan argued playfully.

“Sometimes when we take a case somewhere warm, I stand in the parking lot for five minutes and face the sun. And if you close your eyes, it’s almost like a vacation.” You say.

“Weren’t you literally taken hostage the last time you did that?” Spencer asks, and you roll your eyes goodnaturedly.

“Well, there goes my tropical getaway,” you tease.

With Morgan as acting unit chief, paperwork deadlines are considerably more flexible, which is to say nonexistent. Strauss would probably have a field day when she went to review the case file, but that wasn’t your problem. And, quite frankly, as you rushed to your car to get home to your boys, you couldn’t care less.

When you swing the door open, you interrupt a very spirited game of Connect Four between Jack and Aaron. You notice that Aaron has at least three opportunities to make a winning move, all of which he ignores in favor of allowing Jack to push his chips in at random.

“You’re home!” Jack exclaims when he sees you, scrambling across the living room and wordlessly commanding to be held by you.

You hoist him up onto your hip, not without difficulty. He was getting big, and it made you a little sad. It strikes you that you won’t be able to do this forever, wrap him up in your arms and make him feel small and safe and secure. You squeeze him tighter. “Were you good for your daddy while I was gone?”

“Uh-huh.” He nods, pulling back to look at you and running the collar of your shirt in between his thumb and forefinger absentmindedly.

“And was Daddy good? He stayed off of his booboo leg?” You asked the only Hotchner who would give you a truthful answer.

“Daddy was good.” Jack confirms, and you narrow your eyes skeptically.

“Did he bribe you to say that? Ice cream for breakfast, or a new comic book?” You ask.

“No. We watched Toy Story and I learned checkers. I had cereal for breakfast, not ice cream.” He tells you, and you relent.

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun, bug.” You say, putting him down and crossing the living room to sit next to Aaron on the couch, who leaned over to press a kiss to the top of your head and placed a hand in your lap.

“I did. But I missed you.” Jack tells you, climbing onto the couch next to you.

“He’s not the only one,” Aaron whispers, pressing another kiss to your hair.

“I missed you both, very very much,” you tell them, snuggling closer into Aaron and placing a hand in Jack’s hair.

“We had pasta for dinner. I saved you a plate,” Aaron tells you.

“Thank you, baby.” You tell him. “But, I’m pretty sure it’s past somebody’s bedtime…” You mention, and Jack pouts immediately.

“I told him he could stay up until you got home, but he promised he wasn’t going to fight when it was time for bed, right buddy?” Aaron reminds his son.

“Come on, sweet boy. I’ll tuck you in,” You tell him, pecking Aaron’s lips briefly before scooping Jack up off of the sofa and bringing him to his bed, tucking him in with extra stories and kisses to make up for the nights you missed while you were gone.

When you come back into the kitchen, Aaron has heated up the leftover pasta and is waiting for you at the counter.

“You didn’t have to get up, I would have done that,” you tell Aaron, knowing full well that he’d never actually listen.

“How was the case?” He asks as you settle in and start to eat.

“It wasn’t too bad. We got the guy to surrender without hurting any of the hostages. A few of them were in pretty rough shape, but they should all recover.” you tell him in between bites.

“And the team? Everyone’s doing okay?”

“We’re all good, babe. JJ’s getting really good at the geographic profile, but I think it annoys her to stay at the station when we’re all out.”

“She’s pregnant. It’s not worth the risk,” Aaron reminds you.

“I know, honey, but it’s still annoying. It’s kind of like when you break your leg and you’re not allowed to go to work but you still have to hear all about it from your girlfriend,” you point out, and he smirks at you.

“Morgan’s doing okay? The field agents aren’t giving him any trouble?”

“Morgan can handle himself just fine against any cocky field agent. You don’t need to worry about us, sweetheart. We’re okay. You trained us up good,” you smiled at him, and he blushed, rolling his eyes at you. “We want you back, but we want you back healthy,” you tell him.

“Well, the doctor cleared me to start PT in two weeks. So hopefully I’ll be back sooner rather than later,” Aaron tells you.

“That's great news! So the cast is coming off soon?” You ask.

“Yeah, he wants to see me again to take it off and give me the final go-ahead for PT.”

“And you’re gonna take it easy at PT, because you know you can’t rush recovery, right?” You remind him.

“Yes, mom,” he teases you with a smile.

“It’s my turn to fret over you. Karma’s a bitch,” you smile at him as you get up to take his plate to the dishwasher. As you do so, his phone rings.

“Hotchner,” he says into the receiver. “Woah, woah. Slow down, please. Are you okay?” Aaron says, and you turn around immediately, concerned. “Garcia, hold on. I’m going to put you on speaker. Yeah, she’s home. She’s here with me.” Aaron says, his eyes flicking over to you as he pulls the phone away from his ear and adjusts the volume.

“Okay, so, I have been keeping an eye on Josh’s arrest record, awaiting his arraignment and his court dates so that we could throw a big ‘Josh is in prison for life party,’” she tells you, spitting out information a mile a minute. “There hadn’t been any movement for a few days, and I couldn’t figure out why, but I decided to check one more time before I went to bed tonight, and Josh’s dealer posted bail for him four days ago.”

“What?” You say. You heard her, heard every word she said in perfect clarity. But there had to be a mistake, right?

“Garcia, what do you have on the dealer? What has Josh been doing for the past four days?” Aaron asks, and you hear him, but you also… don’t. Everything sounds like you have cotton stuck inside your ears, or like you’re underwater. This couldn’t really be happening, could it?

“That’s a trigger,” you mumble quietly, and you think that Aaron doesn’t hear you, he’s so focused on his conversation with Garcia that you try hopelessly to follow. He turns to you, after a moment, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

“What did you say, doll?” He asks you.

“That’s a trigger. You know, how we say that serial killers have triggers that make them start killing people. This is probably a trigger to start killing,” you say, staring at a spot of dirt on the tile. Jack must have tracked it on his cleats, and Aaron couldn’t mop with his injury. You should really clean that. You needed to get the dirt off the floor. Mop, mop, where did Aaron keep the mop? You pulled it out of the closet and were headed for the stain when you felt Aaron’s hands come to rest on your shoulders, blocking your path.

“Hon, what are you doing?’ He asks, trying to make eye contact with you, which you avoided.

“The floor needs to be mopped.” You answer, emotionless.

“Why don’t you come sit down, the floor can wait,” he says, trying to guide you towards the sofa.

“Aaron, your knee! Go sit. Go, go. I just need to get the floor clean. Please just go sit and I can fix it. It’s okay. I got it.” You got more and more worked up as you continued to stare at the dirt, watching the stain grow as your vision blurred, as if the dirt were mocking you.

“Hey, hey hey. Where’d you go, angel? Come back here with me, love. You’re gonna be okay. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He says, wrapping his arms around you.

You’d never wished more that you believed him.

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#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader fic #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #hotch fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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ah-ga-seven · 4 years

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Till’ The End Of Summer - Chapter 11

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 12K

Genre: Angst, SMUT, Fluff

Warnings: very descriptive mature content, read at your own risk, I put a bolded warning at the start and closing. I also didn’t proofread cause well...12k words. I’ll get to it asap!

“What are you waiting for? Come in. You’re all acting like strangers to each other.” Your mom snickered as she wiped her hands on a paper towel so she could greet them properly.

“Oh, y-yeah.” Mia says as she steps inside, walking past Soobin without a word to greet your parents.

Your frozen state vanishes as you make eye contact with Mia, and you automatically start to walk towards Yeonjun with big, confused eyes.

You looked at Yeonjun, and he looked at you. The corners of his mouth lifting up a little as he opened his arms for you. You didn’t think twice about launching yourself into his arms, though your confusion got the best of you, you were still incredibly happy to see him. Your whole body relaxed as he enveloped you into his strong arms, patting your head as he buried his nose in your hair. “Hi baby,” he whispers into your hair. Closing his eyes to savor the peaceful moment.

You look up with glassy eyes as he cupped your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb before he planted a kiss on your lips, followed by a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“Did you miss me?”

You nod bashfully, burying your face in his chest once again and he just chuckles, tightening his hold on you a little. “Me too,” he hums as the feeling of being whole and loved washes over him.

It’s like you forgot your parents, Soobin or Mia were in the room. It felt like time stopped. As if it was just you and him in your apartment.

Your father cleared his throat, cringing at the scene. “You didn’t hug me like that when I came in.”

The comment made Yeonjun chuckle and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you let go of him.

Soobin’s eyes were focused on Mia, but he snapped out of it as he heard your father speak. Putting on a smile at his comment. “Well, he was gone for almost two months,” Soobin says as he grabbed Yeonjun by his shoulders, smiling at him with love emitting from his pupils.

Yeonjun chuckled, pulling Soobin towards him for a hug. “You could have given us a heads up.”

“He wanted to surprise you.” Mia chimed in quickly, giving Yeonjun a look that Soobin couldn’t read, and he didn’t like it. But maybe they did visit here to surprise you? All in all, he was confused at them showing up here together, but it seemed like you didn’t find it odd at all.

“Let’s talk later,” Yeonjun says as his pupils dart from Soobin to your parents, nodding at them.

Soobin immediately understood, since they didn’t need words to communicate.

It was still awkward for Soobin to see you interact with Yeonjun like this, he wasn’t used to seeing Yeonjun being more whipped than heavy whipped cream for a girl, and since you were that girl it made it all even more awkward to watch for him.

“Give me a second,” Yeonjun says as he let go of your hand, making his way through your apartment to greet your parents.

You gulped at the sight, suddenly the nerves in your body were taking a toll on you and you unknowingly grab a hold of Soobin's hand who was standing next to you.

Soobin raised his eyebrows, looking at your intertwined fingers and he scoffed with a side-smile. Whispering an ‘it’s ok’ to you in the process.

Yeonjun was a charmer, he could make anyone like him by adapting his energy to theirs. For some reason, he thought your dad would appreciate it more if he went to greet your mother first, and so he did. Receiving an approving smile from your father.

“Hi Mrs. y/l/n, I’m Yeonjun.” He smiled at her brightly, taking her hand with both hands as he bowed to her politely.

You saw your mother's breath literally hitch in her throat at the sight of his smile and you roll your eyes at her.

Mia chuckled as well, and so did Soobin. Really? All it took was a smile and a simple ‘Hello’ and she was already in awe?

“Y/n, where the hell did you find him?” Your mother chimes giving you a shocked look and you curse at her through your teeth for embarrassing him and yourself

“Mom!” you whine, rushing to his side to grab his arm for comfort.

Heat rose to Yeonjun’s cheeks as he giggled softly at the not-so-subtle compliment. “We actually kind of found each other.”

“Okay, stop before I throw up my lunch.” Soobin says as he plops down next to Mia on the couch, putting an arm around her.

Everyone chuckled lightly, and your father made his way to the kitchen as well to talk to Yeonjun.

As everyone was getting acquainted with each other, Soobin leaned into Mia.

“You ghost on me for days and now you show up here with him? What’s going on.”

Mia’s mouth went dry, not wanting to ruin the moment given how happy you were to see Yeonjun and your parents together. She eyed your facial expression and melted. She hasn’t seen you this happy in weeks. She sighed, averting her attention back to Soobin. “I’m sorry…I had deadlines and stayed up all night, Yeonjun called me up to surprise you guys that’s it…”

Soobin’s hard demeanor softened and he wrapped Mia into his arms tightly as he pouted. “Oh no, my baby. Did you work so hard?” he cooed, babying Mia to his best ability; similar to how he baby’s Hueningkai from time to time.

Mia giggled, relaxing in his touch. “I missed you, I’m sorry. It was a really important deadline.”

“It’s ok…I understand,” Soobin says as he pecked her lips softly, staring into her eyes lovingly before pulling her closer to him on the couch. “I know I should’ve just trusted you, I’m sorry.”

Mia avoided Soobin’s eyes, feeling guilty about lying yet another lie but this just wasn’t the time.

“You’re on the team with Soobin?” your dad asked suddenly intrigued by the revelation.

You lean against your kitchen counter and watch your dad like a hawk, but he seemed to like Yeonjun already, especially if he’s this interested.

“Oh, yeah. I like to believe I’m their star player.” Yeonjun states cockily, huffing out his chest while nodding to Soobin who just rolled his eyes at him.

“He’s good. Sure.” Soobin admits bitterly, making your parents laugh in response.

You smile at Yeonjun adoringly for being able to win over your parents so easily, something you didn’t think was possible given your track record of dating incompetent men. The two other boyfriends you brought home weren’t necessarily approved of. They were tolerated but not liked, and you could already sense that this was not the case with Yeonjun.

With every ‘I told you so’ you heard from your mom whenever you broke up with an ex, she made you realize that mama indeed ‘knows best’ but given the way she was looking at Yeonjun with stars in her eyes as he conversed about this and that, you already knew she’d see him as a keeper. Which made your shoulders drop in relaxation.

“I’d love to talk some more but this dinner isn’t going to prepare itself.” Your mother chuckled pointing to your kitchen area. There was literally no space left on your counter because of all of the ingredients and Yeonjun’s eyes widened.

“Do you need help miss?” Yeonjun offers politely, putting a hand on her shoulder as he smiled at your mother softly.

He couldn’t help but notice how similar you looked to her, how you have the same mannerisms and the same twinkle in your eyes. She smiled at him and shook her head. “No, that’s really nice of you to offer but I think y/n, Mia, and I will have it handled. Right?”

Mia got on her feet immediately and that’s the exact moment you notice her presence for the first time. Your eyes widen and you burst out laughing, giving her a clumsy hug as you cling to her. “Oh my god dude, I had no idea you came.”

“It’s ok,” she scoffs. “I know where I stand.” You playfully hit her arm as she rolls her eyes, and Yeonjun smiled at both of you, giving Mia a look you couldn’t quite read after he kissed your temple.

“I’ll be with Soobin and your dad.” You look back at him and give him an awkward smile while your brows furrow with concern. “Tell me when my dad’s being annoying ok.”

He chuckled, crossing his arms in fake defense. “If I can handle you, I can handle anyone.”

The comment made your mother snort to herself as she cut up some veggies, and you just give him a kittenish angry face as he makes his way to the couch, plopping himself down between Soobin and your dad.

He watched you for a while, the corners of his mouth curling up into a slight smile without knowing. He noticed how content and happy you were to be with a room full of people that you love, and his heart did a thing at the view.

As he was getting lost in thought, his smile faltered while he thought of the reason he came here in the first place. Seeing you like this made it so much harder. He didn’t have the heart to wipe that pretty smile off your face and neither was Mia from the looks of it.

“Right Yeonjun?” Soobin cooed, snapping him out of his daydream.

Yeonjun’s head snapped back to reality, looking at Soobin and your father with big confused eyes. “Ah…sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I know. You were looking at my daughter.” Your father chuckled, patting Yeonjun’s thigh, which made Yeonjun freeze in place at being caught. He nervously smiled, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“Well, at least it’s super obvious he cares about her.” Soobin chuckled, putting his arm around Yeonjun to pull him back and trapping him into a hug.

“You two seem pretty close too,” your dad remarks with a smile.

“Oh yeah, we live together,” Soobin says as he snuggles his head into Yeonjun’s shoulder.

“Stop that. I’ll get jealous.” Mia pouts waving her knife around as a warning and Soobin immediately let go, making everyone laugh in response.

Yeonjun looked back at Soobin with an amused smile. He furrowed his brows at Soobin as he something odd about his attire. “Are these my clothes?” he asks pulling on the black bedazzled Vetements shirt Soobin was wearing.

“Oh…yeah about that…”

“That’s more than he was wearing when we came in here, so be glad.” Your dad jokes, not noticing the damage he did.

Soobin coughed, basically choking on air, shooting your dad a look of desperation.

“What?” Yeonjun asks raising his eyebrows at Soobin. He was trying not to sound too annoyed given the presence of your father, but it failed miserably. If Yeonjun can’t hide something it’s his jealousy, he fucking hated it about himself but there was nothing he could do at this point.

“Ahh, hyung. It’s nothing. Seriously. She told me to change into your clothes since I crashed here but I couldn’t find your shirts, so I walked out and at that exact moment her parents were in the living room…I had no idea.”

Yeonjun squinted his eyes at Soobin but didn’t want to say anything else since your father was right in front of him. He didn’t want to seem possessive or jealous, even though he was. So, he decided to let it go for now. “We’ll talk later,” Yeonjun says through his teeth, which made your father laugh out loud, enjoying taunting Yeonjun a little too much.

When Yeonjun looked back at your father he saw a smug grin on his face, and Yeonjun knew enough. He was doing it on purpose to test him; and luckily, he passed the test.

“Honey! We forgot the honey.” Your mom says in panic as she rummages through the grocery bags.

“Are you calling me honey or…” your dad asks looking back at your her.

“Yes and no, go be a good husband and get me some honey.”

“Ok, honey.” He sighs exasperatingly, getting up from the couch with reluctance.

Yeonjun chuckled, enjoying the dad jokes a little too much and you roll your eyes at him. “Oh my god.” Mia sighed. “I guess they found each other.”

You smile at them both lovingly but your smile falters quickly. You catch yourself being way too giddy and positive about life right now. You were so used to everything going completely wrong all the time that you wouldn’t let yourself have this moment of peace, serenity, and happiness without overthinking.

Mia noticed, nudging your shoulder. “You ok? What was that?”

“Nothing, I just…I’m really happy right now,” you say with a million kilo-watt smile, which made Mia’s eyes twinkle.

You deserved this more than anyone after all the shit you’ve put yourself through to make your relationship with Yeonjun work. Guilt consumed Mia again as she averted her attention back on the task at hand, peeling these damn potatoes.

“At least someone in this house appreciates my humor. I guess I’ll go get it then.” Your dad says as he retrieved his jacket from the coat rack.

“Let me come with you.” Yeonjun volunteers as he got up with determination. “I can drive,” he offered, and your dad just nodded at him in response.

You blinked a couple of times to check if this was really happening. Your dad let Yeonjun come with him?

You were taken aback by the fact that your dad allowed Yeonjun to come with him, and even more taken aback by the fact that Yeonjun volunteered to get grilled in the car. Knowing your dad, he’d probably lynch him alive with questions, and you felt bad for him already.

You give Yeonjun a look, mouthing a ‘Are you sure about that’ but he shrugged it off, giving you a reassuring nod.

“Ok, well…have fun you two, and don’t take too long.” Your mom nags as she continues to stir into the large pan on the stove.

“Yeah…hurry back.” You pout at Yeonjun and he chuckled, pecking your lips.

“Don’t worry.” He whispered into your ear, patting your head before he followed your dad out of the house.

“This is your car? A Range Rover?”

“I-uh…it was a birthday present,” Yeonjun said opening the door to the passengers’ seat for your father.

Your dad got in, looking at his surroundings with big eyes. “That’s some birthday present. What do your parents do again, son?”

‘Son’ wow, that’s a first.

“Uhm, they operate in software and applications, well my mom does. My dad is well….dead.”

“Oh, Jesus. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.” Your dad quickly apologizes as he fastened his seatbelt.

Yeonjun bit his lip, starting the engine. He wasn’t off to a great start. He wanted to keep things light and airy, but he should’ve known that a 22-year-old, driving around in a 50.000+ dollar car would raise questions with heavy answers.

“It’s ok. Well, I mean it’s not Ok. We had a complicated relationship. My parents were never really around so they compensated that with…gifts such as these.”

“You seem well mannered though.”

“Yeah, my housekeeper raised me.”

“Housekeeper?”

“Ok, I’m sorry.” Yeonjun chuckled nervously. “Can we please start over sir? I’m starting to sound like a brat.”

“Only if you stop calling me sir” your dad says with a smile, patting Yeonjun on his shoulder which made him relax in his seat as he turned the corner on his way to the nearest supermarket.

“What do you think they’re talking about.” You nervously say as you munch on a rice cake.

“You.” Soobin shrugs, stealing a rice cake from the pan which made your mother slap his hand away.

“Use a spoon!” she nags, making Mia laugh in response.

“I knew you guys were close, but I had no idea Soobin had a second mother,” Mia says comforting a pouty Soobin by rubbing his back.

Your mom smiled at Mia and looked back at Soobin adoringly. “Well, he basically grew up in our house, the same goes for y/n in his home. His mom and I went to college together, and never parted ways since.” She explains as she fishes a rice cake out of the pot with a spoon, handing it to Soobin so he could try it.

“Ahh, that’s gonna be us!” you giggle excitedly, smacking Mia’s arm.

Mia gave you a half-hearted smile. “Yeah…” she says lost in thought, trying not to make things too obvious. “I hope so…”

“A guy as well off as you should have his options open. So why y/n?” your dad questions as Yeonjun and him walk down the aisles of the supermarket in search of the secret ingredient to your mothers famous stew.

Yeonjun chuckled. “She saw me for me before she knew who my parents were. We just really clicked. We share the same interests. We just get each other. Also, I did most of the chasing, she was not convinced at first.”

“How come?”

“Let's just say I didn’t make the greatest decisions. We really had to work on the way we communicate and though I’m still working on it…I do feel like we’re finally getting somewhere.” Yeonjun carefully explains as he skims the aisles for pots of honey.

“Can I tell you a secret about my daughter, Yeonjun.” Your dad starts lost in thought as he stopped in front of a shelve filled with different types of condiments.

“Y-yeah…of course,” Yeonjun states standing behind him, putting his hand in his pockets as he waited for your dad to speak up.

“y/n tends to see the guys she dates as projects. She wants to fix them and when it doesn’t work out, she’s the one left broken hearted, because she puts all of her soul and energy in trying to make things work…even if they don’t want to work.”

Yeonjun was taken aback by your father's statement. Projects? Men? What now?

“I...I don’t think I fully understand.”

Your dad turned round after having retrieved the biggest pot of honey he could find on the shelve, looking at Yeonjun seriously.

“You seem to care about her a lot. I can tell. By the way you look at her, talk about her. It’s evident that your heart is in the right place and that your intentions are good, but the last two guys she dated were similar to you, and I actually like you, so I would hate for you to end up as some failed experiment.”

Yeonjun blinked a couple of times as he followed your dad to the long line behind the cash register. “I never even asked her about her exes, are you saying she sees me as a project?”

“Oh no! God. No. She’s going to kill me.” Your dad quickly jumped to his own defense, looking at Yeonjun seriously.

“She’s never looked at a guy the way she looks at you, trust me. I’d know. She doesn’t even look at me like that.” He jokes to lighten the tension but Yeonjun furrows his brows in concern, which made your dad sigh at the sight.

“Y/n wants to fix people; it’s basically embedded in her DNA. I used to serve in the army, I wasn’t around as much, and her mother had a hard time with it. So, y/n took care of her from a young age. When I got back, she was hesitant around me, not knowing what it’s like to have a father around and all. Although we’re good now; it somehow scarred her in ways I don’t think she even knows about herself.”

“She…never told me,” Yeonjun says as they moved forward in line, he was too lost in thought to even comprehend what was happening around him, and just followed your dad like a lost puppy.

“I think it’s because she doesn’t think it’s an issue. My daughter only knows how to take care of others, she neglects her own needs. You could call her somewhat of a wounded healer. She’ll do anything to make your relationship work Yeonjun, what I’m asking of you is to take care of her when she’s taking care of you.”

“Of course,…I’d do anything for her.”

Yeonjun sighed dramatically. Of course, it takes two to tango. If he’s going to tell you that he wasn’t planning on going back to college, you’d probably blame yourself. He had to think long and hard about how he was going to break the news. For once he has the advantage, and he was going to do it right.

“All in all, it’s kind of my fault she’s like that. The fear of abandonment, not knowing how to put herself first, it’s because of my absence in her childhood.”

“So, to summarize this, she has….daddy issues.” Yeonjun blurts out without thinking.

Your father snorted, holding in his laughter as they made it to the cash register, Yeonjun was too lost in thought to even pull out his card, though your dad would never let him pay, he wanted to make the gesture.

It was already too late as the lady at the register handed the receipt to your father. And he turned to Yeonjun, looking at his fallen facial expression.

“See it as something you have in common with her.”

Yeonjun’s eyes turned from serious to playful at the out of line comment your dad just made and he couldn’t help but laugh. “I guess so yeah, I guess we’ve been too focused on me and my past. This was really helpful thank you.” Yeonjun says as he took the bag from your father, carrying it to the car.

“Fix your flaws together, not separately. If it works it works, and if not and you break her heart…I still have my gun from the army.”

Yeonjun’s eyes widen, and your dad laughs as he opens the car door. Enjoying his empty threat, a little too much. Yeonjun nervously chuckled as he got in the car again, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Got it.”

Your dad and Yeonjun walk in, and your heart finally started beating again. They looked fine, and your dad was even laughing with Yeonjun as they stepped foot into your apartment.

Your eyes grow in size and Yeonjun immediately makes his way over to you, standing between your legs since you were seated on top of your dinner table to watch your mother cook.

“I’m back,” he says with a soft smile, pulling you in for a hug.

“What did you two talk about?” you whisper, your eyes follow your father as he hands your mom the bag with a quick kiss on her cheek.

Yeonjun looked at your parents, and then back to you with a smirk.

“Oh, nothing. He told me all about your ex-boyfriends that’s all,” He says nonchalantly letting go of you, but you hook your legs around his thighs to keep him from leaving.

“He what!?” you whisper-scream, but Yeonjun just shot you an amused wink, untangling himself from your hold to compliment your mother on her cooking.

Dinner was served pretty quickly afterward. Soobin and Yeonjun had to move your desk from your bedroom to extend your dinner table since your place wasn’t made to have 5 guests over.

Your parents sat across from each other as Mia and Soobin sat next to each other on one side, while Yeonjun and yourself sat next to each other on the opposite side.

The setting was intimate, candles were lit, and soft music was playing in the background as all of you made light conversation about your studies and how you all met.

When your dad and Yeonjun were gone, you instructed your mother to keep from asking deep questions to Yeonjun about his family for the time of being. You didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable or burdened to answer, especially since you didn’t have time alone with him since he returned, meaning you couldn’t really check on him given his unexpected return.

You could tell that Yeonjun was trying his best, but he kept zoning out and suddenly you feel yourself worrying about what your father might have said to him, so you decide to distract him.

Your hand found his under the table, and you intertwine your fingers, squeezing his hand while placing your intertwined fingers on your thigh just above your knee.

He didn’t think much of it, continuing to listen to Soobin ramble about their first encounter in the locker room during freshman year.

He was laughing, listening intently. He looked relaxed and you couldn’t help but stare. You start looking at his features one by one. At his honey skin and eye smile. At his cushiony lips as he chewed on the food your mother prepared.

Yeonjun looked down at you, feeling your eyes on him and when he caught you staring, he giggled shyly. “What is it?” he asked with a smile, but you just shake your head, guiding his hand up your thigh a little more, passing the fabric of your skirt which made Yeonjun’s eyes widen.

“Nothing,” you say innocently, raising your spoon up to your mouth with your free hand to take a bite as you guide his hand even higher up your thigh.

He basically choked on his food and started coughing, trying to untangle his fingers from yours. He grabbed a napkin, covering his mouth with it to muffle his coughing sounds.

“Yeonjun? Are you okay?” your mother asks in concern which made Yeonjun’s eyes travel to hers as if he got caught.

“Ah..y-yes, I need to chew more.” He chuckles apologetically.

“It’s delicious, the best kimchi stew I’ve ever had.” He compliments, which made your mother smile proudly.

“Yes! Completely agree.” Mia says.

“You should all come over for Christmas, bring the other boys too. I can cook you a real dinner then.” Your mother proposes which made Soobin gasp. “That would be amazing!”

Yeonjun smiled at your mother and Soobin, but you weren’t done taunting him.

You ‘dropped’ your chopstick, the noise alerting everyone in the room.

“Oh, sorry. Let me just-“

“I’ll get it,” Yeonjun offers quickly, but you stop him.

“No, It’s ok, I can see it from here.”

The attention of your dad, Mia and Soobin was quickly averted back to your mother so you took your chance. Grabbing Yeonjuns thigh, digging your nails into his jeans for leverage as you bend down to grab the lost chopstick between his feet.

He froze but knew exactly what you were doing and when your head dipped down, his eyes widened. This could NOT look right from the outside looking in.

He couldn’t believe you, first the whole shirtless Soobin ordeal, then the revelation of your ex-boyfriends you never told him about and now you are provoking him at the dinner table? What the fuck has gotten into you.

You come back up, letting go of his thigh and you innocently set the chopstick aside, raking your hand through your hair as you give Yeonjun a questioning look.

His eyes were burning into you, but you just shrug with a sly smile. “Keep this up. I dare you.” He whispers through his teeth, counteracting his threat by sweetly tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear.

He dares you? Ha. Ha. Ha. He should know by now that you’re crazy.

It didn’t take long before everyone was finished, so when you cleaned the table you made sure to reach for Yeonjun’s plate over his shoulder, brushing your arm over his chest and touching him subtly whenever you could.

You could tell he was losing his patience with you but frankly, you didn’t care. It’s the least he deserves for basically ignoring you for the past few weeks and showing up here like nothing ever happened. Of course, you were happy to see him, but you were bitter, and you were going to make him suffer the best way you could.

After dinner, dessert and tea you were completely stuffed and low on energy. You wanted everyone out of your apartment and your father was quick to notice the way you dragged your footsteps around your apartment. He proposed to leave not long after, and to your relief your mother agreed.

Soobin and Mia left first with a lousy excuse of finishing schoolwork but judging off the looks they were giving each other all night you knew better than that.

“It was so nice to meet you, Yeonjun!” your mother exclaims pulling him in for a hug. He stiffens in surprise at first but relaxes in her touch instantly. As he let go of her, your father patted Yeonjun on his back and shook his hand firmly. “I guess we’ll see you at Christmas.”

“Yes. For sure.” Yeonjun smiles, and it in unknowingly made you giddy inside that he made plans to be with you and your parents so far in the future.

He really wasn’t going anywhere this time, and you couldn’t be happier.

After exchanging hugs with your parents and promising to contact them more often they leave, and you sigh in relief.

_ WARNING: Heavy Smut ahead. Soft Dom!Jun, oral/finger play, size kink, choking, rough sex, playful banter, sweet/dirty talk and aftercare. _

When the front door closed the air got thick. It’s like your breath hitched in your throat and you knew the endless diner table teasing was about to get you in trouble.

You were almost afraid to turn around and meet his eyes. You halted your movements for a few seconds before you found the guts to do so and immediately regret it.

He stared at you through hooded lids, the dimmed lighting in your apartment was accentuating his features perfectly and romantically. He walked closer to you with slow strides, backing you into your front door as he trapped you between his arms on each side of your body.

“In front of your fucking parents' y/n?” he starts, letting his fingers ghost over your bottom lip before he tugs at your chin, making you look at him.

You gulp with wide eyes, lust filling your senses as you basically see him undress you with his eyes.

“You’ve given me multiple reasons to completely wreck you today.”

Without a warning he parts your legs by propping his knee in between. Bending down to curl his strong arms around your thighs so he could lift you against the door frame. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as your back hits the door frame with a loud thud.

You moan at his sudden actions and he was quick to shut you up by kissing you roughly. Trapping your lip between his teeth, tugging lightly before he started to pepper your neck with wet kisses and love bites.

He moaned against your skin, nails digging deeper into your thighs as he tightened his grip, making sure not to let you fall.

“Did you miss me that much baby?”

You nod furiously, your fingers tangling into his hair as he kept kissing your neck.

You feel his teeth graze over the sensitive spot below your jaw that he just ferociously sucked on. A breathy moan escapes your lips as you tug on his soft locks a little harder to let him know you wanted his lips back on yours, but he didn’t budge, grinding his hips into yours as he kept sucking hickey after hickey into your delicate skin.

“Tell me you want it.” He growls, grinding his hips against your clothed core once more. He grins smugly against your skin as your legs shudder at the barely-there sensation against your heat.

Your body was reacting to him in ways he had only fantasized about and he was going to take his sweet time with you. The number of times you almost had sex was infuriating, and he was sure to go through with it this time, swearing to himself that the only thing that could stop him right now would be a fucking fire in your apartment building.

“P-please,” you pant, throwing your head back as you feel his tongue glide down your neck, going straight for your breasts.

The anticipation was too much. You hold onto him as he pulled his arms from underneath you, hiking up your shirt enough to where he could expose your tits.

He licked his lips, approving the sight; skillfully unclasping your bra with one hand.

A string of curses and praises left his lips as he started to litter your chest with kisses, sucking on your nipple while he made sure not to neglect the other by rubbing circles onto the sensitive nub.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful” he cooed, placing you back on the floor. He hooked his arm around your waist to stabilize you as the other found the hem of your skirt all while his mouth was still busy alternating between kisses and bites on your neck, lips and tits.

Lewd moans left your lips as his long fingers make contact with your clothed clit. “Right here baby?” he asks sweetly as his middle finger starts to rub slow circles against the fabric of your panties.

“Yes, baby please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, more.”

His fingers pushed the fabric of your underwear aside, making contact with your bare skin for the first time. Your slick surprised him; it didn’t take much to get you this wet so he could only imagine how juicy you would sound with him buried deep inside of you.

He licked his lips at the thought, your moans only becoming less controlled as he spread your wetness between your folds with his long, cold fingers.

You whine at his teasing movements, hooking your leg around his waist to give him better access.

At that his eyes found yours again before he pushed his ring finger inside of you completely while still rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb.

The sudden filling sensation made you gasp. The hunger in his pupils only amplified as he listened to your wetness being fucked by his finger. You were tightening around him already making him smirk to himself. “Not sure if I should let you cum after all that.”

You whine in response and grab on to his wrist down there while your head fell back, enjoying him pump a second digit into you at a faster yet steady and comfortable pace.

It felt good, too good, and you knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“You’re so fucking tight, and wet. Fuck” he compliments before he pecks your lips again.

“ahh, Yeonjun, I’m close.”

He curled his fingers inside of you, fastening his rhythmic tempo as he kept thrusting his fingers deep in and out of you deliciously.

God he was good. He didn’t lose his rhythm, giving you something to concentrate on which only brought you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“I-I’m gonna cum” you whine, biting down on the skin of his neck to control yourself.

He wanted to deny you your orgasm, he really did. But he was too whipped for you to care all of a sudden. Having you cum for him is something he fantasized about for months now, and he wasn’t going to pass up on the opportunity. At least not now.

“Let go baby, go to heaven.” He encourages you, lacing the fingers of his free hand through your hair tightly as he rested his forehead on yours while the speed of his fingers thrusting into you started building a little more.

Your legs start to shake as you feel euphoria approaching and with a few more hard yet controlled thrusts, you come undone.

You fall quiet as your orgasm washes over you. A squeal escaping your throat as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, maintaining eye contact before you see him do the hottest thing you’ve ever seen him do in your life.

He brought his fingers up to his lips, sticking out his tongue and curling it around his fingers, licking your wetness off of it while maintaining eye contact with you.

Your chest was still heaving up and down as you were trying to compose yourself from the first orgasm Yeonjun has ever given you and your mouth goes completely dry at his beauty. You’re dumbfounded by his dirty actions as he smirks again, grabbing your face with both hands as he kisses you once more, a lot slower and more passionately this time.

“You taste like fucking candy baby.” he smiles against your lips and you giggle at his lewd compliment. Shying away from him as the embarrassment of your loud moans from before suddenly washes over you.

“Don’t hide that pretty face,” he says as he makes you look at him again, placing both hands on your shoulders before blinking at you intently.

He smirked again, slowly pushing you down until you were on your knees for him. You placed your hands on your thighs, submissively staring up at him with big eyes, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

The sight made him groan loudly in approval, tugging on your chin with his hand while his fingers pinched your cheeks together.

“Are you going to let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?” he asks licking his lips, rocking his hips forward a little.

Your eyes land on the tent that had formed in his pants and you gulp given his size.

You look up at him again, nodding sweetly as you start to undo his belt while keeping eye contact with him as he tightened the hold he had on your face.

He helped you fasten the process by aggressively ripping his jeans open, helping you pull his jeans and boxers down simultaneously all while staring at your naked body.

His eyes averted back to yours, and he looked at your bewildered facial expression when his cock sprung free. He was huge, fully hard and he had pre cum leaking from his angry tip. He grabbed the base of his cock, laying himself across your cheek to compare his largeness against your small face.

It got him off more than he liked to admit, and he caressed your cheek gently, love emitting from his pupils as you lick your lips, waiting for him to push himself into your mouth.

You take over from him, spitting into your hand to slick him up. You start to slowly pump him, making sure to twist your wrist to cover his whole base while applying the right amount of pressure.

“Fuck. Yes. Baby,” He groans in approval, throwing his head back as he enjoys your skilled hands pump his shaft steadily.

You keep eying his facial expressions and you feel yourself getting wet again at the sight of his enjoyment.

You open your mouth, sticking out your tongue to lick the precum off of his tip. The action made Yeonjun’s had snack back in response, but he was quick to avert his gaze back to you.

He looked at you part your lips even more so you could take more of him, and you nod; blinking a couple of times as a silent okay for him to start pushing his cock down your throat.

He loved how you knew what he wanted, and how well you were taking him despite his size. To be really honest your experience kind of baffled him. He secretly wanted to teach you everything he knew, to corrupt you and make you his personal slut – in the most loving way possible – but given the way his dick was almost balls deep down your throat without a single gag or whine, he knew that you knew what you were doing.

“Holy fucking shit baby.” He hissed through his teeth, slowly thrusting his long and veiny length in and out of your mouth.

You were taking him like a champ, keeping your eyes on him as you stabilized yourself on his thighs. You hum in approval and the vibrations almost drive him insane. He bucked his hips, and you lean back, letting him pull out of your mouth completely before he came too fast from your mouth alone.

Watching him was the best part. He’s never been so riled up for sex and that was purely because of the fact that it was you pleasuring him.

He crouched down, giving you a sloppy kiss on your lips and you grin back at him, enjoying the amused glisten in his eyes. “Condoms?”

“Bedside table.”

“Then let’s fucking go,” he huffs, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. You squeal and start laughing loudly, wiggling your feet around in protest.

“YEONJUN!” you scream, smacking his back but he wasn’t having it, giving your bare ass cheek a loud smack before he swiftly opens the door of your bedroom, dropping you on the bed roughly.

As both of you were still laughing, he hovered over you, giving your neck a quick kiss before taking off his shirt and throwing it on the floor.

He was completely naked now and you just stare at him, in awe of his physique. In awe of the fact that this toned, milky skinned man is all yours.

He noticed your gaze and the way your eyes were doing a full up and down analysis of his body. He stood before you confidently, snickering as he pulled you towards him by your legs, situating himself between your thighs.

He reached down to open the drawer of your bedside table as he leaned back, pumping himself with his free hand. The show he was giving you was one of heavenly proportions, and you weren’t sure if he realized just how hot he looked in the moment.

He scoffed, ripping the condom package with his teeth and discarding the rest of the foil on the floor.

“Why the fuck is the last one in the packet.” He scowls at you, rolling the condom onto his shaft without breaking eye contact and you can’t help but roll your eyes at him.

“I had a social life before we were a thing Yeonjun, now shut up and fuck me.”

“You’re gonna roll your fucking eyes at me while you’re lying in front of me like this? Bold move baby, I don’t think you know what I’m about to do to you,” he threatens as he leans into you. His hand now wrapping around your throat as he used his other hand to spread your wetness between your folds with his tip.

He silently aligned himself with your entrance, but you were too busy to notice, your mind completely occupied with his burning stare and the tightening hold he had on your throat.

Fuck you loved this, you loved him, and you were more than ready to feel him stretch you out.

“Don’t hold back.” You challenge him and he inhales sharply at the way you look under him, absolutely beautiful and bare. He pulls you even closer, making you rest your legs on each side of his shoulders.

“I won’t.” he smirks at you smugly, pumping himself a few more times as he kept staring at your body.

He didn’t ask confirmation for what he was about to do next, since he couldn’t wait any longer and honestly, the answer is pretty obvious. He pushed his tip inside of your tightness and eyed your reaction to him.

The stretch was intense yet heavenly, you licked your lips and watched his tip disappear in and out of you with ease.

If his tip alone was making you feel this good than what the fuck was yet to come?

As you arched your back in pleasure, he knew he could continue with pushing his length into you a little further and so he did. You gasped simultaneously at the immaculate feeling of your walls tightening around his grit and he groans, being on the other receiving end of the sensation.

He slowly pulled out of you to do it again, and again, and again until you were comfortable enough to take all of him. He took his sweet time, enjoying your moans and mewls. He was nice enough to let you adjust to him, taking note when your body started to relax more with every thrust.

“S-so…fucking…big.” You were grabbing on to his wrists with full force, trying to take him without being a little bitch to your best ability but he was a lot to handle.

You could easily take him in your mouth but since it’s been entirely too long since you’ve had sex with anyone it started to feel brand new, and his size wasn’t helping.

“U ok?” he asks as he kisses your temple sweetly, brushing your hair back with his fingers as he watches your face contort in both pain and pleasure.

He was sure to wreck you for your smart mouth, but the most important thing to him was your comfort, so he couldn’t bring it upon himself to live up to his threat.

You nod, burying your face in his neck as he starts to thrust into you a little deeper, agonizingly slow so you could adapt to him completely before he’d start to build up some speed.

“I…ah…I’m,” you start, but you’re unable to complete your sentence, too concentrated on being fucked by the love of your life.

Again, his rhythm was steady, almost robotic which gave you something to concentrate on other than being ravaged by his monstrous size. You were moaning, trying to form words but your mind was hazy. You were unable to tell him how well he was fucking you and how good he felt as your eyes roll back while he kept thrusting in and out of you with slow and deep strokes.

“Use your words baby. Tell me what you want.” he says in a whisper as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, finally releasing the hold he had on your throat this whole time.

“More,” you moan, tugging at his grown-out hair on the nape of his neck and he growls in approval. Wanting nothing more than to be buried balls deep inside of you.

He silently caressed your thigh, taking one of your legs off of his shoulder, bending your knee up to your chest so he could plunge into you fully.

He watched his cock disappear inside of you completely and a low, yet throaty moan escapes your lips as you grip the sheets tightly, your knuckles turning white at how hard you were gripping at the sheets to deal with the stretch.

He growled as he felt your walls contract around him, your tightness only edging him on to thrust into you faster and harder.

“Yes, baby. Yes!” you moan loudly, throwing your head back on your mattress, and he fastened his pace. Pounding in and out of you as he sucked on a newly found sweet spot on your neck.

“Ahh, so fucking tight,” he mused. “You’re sound so beautiful baby, fuck.”

He was praising you with every thrust. His pace steadily increasing, and you were just about to lose it.

You hated yourself for comparing him to your previous lovers in a moment like this, but you already knew that he took first place without a doubt. No one you’ve ever fucked came even close to how Yeonjun was making you feel right now.

Your mind focusses on the steady pace of his thrusts again, your wetness combined with the dirty skin slapping noises edging him on to continue to fuck into you mercilessly.

Your second orgasm of the night was approaching fast as you felt the knot in your stomach starting to form, and by the way you tightened around his cock even more. He sensed how close you were as your moans started to sound like pleading mewls.

He gave you a kittenish grin, biting down on your earlobe as he panted, moaning into your ear while his thumb found your clit, rolling delicious circles onto the sensitive nub. Applying more pressure with each of his thrusts.

“Y-yeonjun.” You gulp for air as you moan his name. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can baby, yes you can. Come on. Do it for me.” He encourages you with a low voice, wanting nothing more than to see you cum on his cock.

His thrusts were getting erratic, the mix of your moans, his grunts and skin slapping sounds filled your room and he bent your other leg to your chest, exposing you to him completely as he fucked into you harder and even deeper than before.

You watched him bulge in your stomach, the feeling being just as intense as it looked and Yeonjun could swear that he had never seen a more arousing sight. He bit his lip, watching you completely lose it under him as you throw your head back, letting him have you the way he pleased as you grabbed on to your sheets again for some type of leverage.

Somewhere inside of you, you found the strength to lift your head to look up at him and the view alone of watching him fuck into you animalistically was enough to make you come undone completely.

Your orgasm washes over you so intensely that your whole body starts to shock around him, your legs shake uncontrollably, and he leans into you, muffling your noises with his hand so your neighbors wouldn’t start complaining to you the next day.

With a few more thrusts, you tightening around him even more and the visual stimulation of your extreme orgasm, he came. His liquids filling the condom to the brim after he pulled out of you completely.

You whimpered at the sudden loss of contact and squeal.

He was panting heavily, watching you like a hawk as you bring your hand to your forehead, panting as you press your thighs together tightly, hoping it would subside the tension.

_ end of smut _

You were trying to calm down, but your chest was heaving up and down so quickly that it almost felt like hyperventilation. You closed your eyes in order to concentrate on your breathing, trying to get your heart beating at a normal pace.

He was quick to notice just how fucked out you were and speedily discarded of the condom, wrapping you into his arms as he held you tightly, patting your head in an attempt to calm you down.

“Shhh, it’s ok, it’s ok.” He kissed your temple, and then your forehead, and then your nose, followed by a quick peck on your lips.

“Baby talk to me. Are you okay?” Concern was evident in his voice as you stayed quiet, still trying to catch your breath at the overstimulation you just experienced.

“I need a minute,” you manage to say, your voice hoarse and barely audible but he understood.

He caressed your back in comfort, letting his fingernails graze your bare skin in up and down motions to calm you down and you did, your lashes fluttering as you open your eyes slowly.

He just held you, pulling the sheets over the both of you so you’d feel less exposed and warm.

“That was incredible.” You finally speak up, completely calmed down from your adventure.

You were tired though, unable to do and say what you wanted since your brain didn’t allow you to.

All the muscles in your body were finally able to relax after being in a complete state of flux for over half an hour.

“Damn right it was.” He kissed your bare shoulder, massaging your scalp with his fingers, applying just the right pressure, making sure to help you relax even more.

“Stop, I’m going to fall asleep like this,” you mumble into his bicep, your eyes closing involuntarily at the divine feeling of his warm embrace in combination with the massaging motions of his fingers on your scalp.

“Then sleep baby.”

“But I wanna talk. I missed you so much.” You pout against his skin, blinking slowly to fight the heaviness of your eyelids.

“Me too, but we can talk tomorrow, and the day after that…and the day after that.” He lowkey reassured you of the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere, and his words made you smile to yourself since the confirmation was something you didn’t know you needed.

You nod, a small yet cute yawn escapes your lips with a squeal and the sound has Yeonjun’s heart doing martial arts in his chest. “You’re adorable,” he remarks and chuckles as he covered your shoulder with the duvet, making sure you were completely covered and warm.

“Goodnight baby, I love you.” He hums into your hair, tightening the hold he had on your waist while brushing your hair back as you rest your head on his chest comfortably.

You close your eyes overwhelmed with his sweetness and the love you felt for him.

This is where you belong, in his arms. Safe and sound.

At the moment you felt as though nothing could ever change the way you feel about him. That there was nothing in the world that could tear you away from him. You were his and he was yours, and you were sure your neighbors knew that by now too.

“I love you too, Yeonjun.”

You’re awake and happy, despite the soreness in your body.

You already showered, got dressed, had a coffee but Yeonjun was still asleep. You figured he’d be spent given the trip from home and the sudden family reunion at your place followed by the sexy stuff that happened afterward; so, you let him sleep in. Not having the heart to wake him.

You collected all of your scattered clothes throughout the house and made sure to fold them up for Yeonjun as he slept.

When you got out of bed you replaced your own warmth with a pillow that he was clutching on to as his lips were parted slightly. Breathing slowly with your sheets covering his manhood while his chest was covered by the pillow he was holding.

You adore him some more before you find something hard in the pocket of his pants as you fold the piece of clothing, retrieving the item from his pocket.

Ah, his phone.

The screen lit up automatically, and you didn’t mean to snoop; but her name on his display was enough to make you frown, using his asleep face for facial recognition to open up his phone.

[Mia, 9.21 AM]: Last night was a blow.

[Mia, 9.21 AM]: We need to tell them today.

[Mia, 9.22 AM]: Or else I’m going to lose it istg.

[Mia, 9.23 AM]: How tf did you manage to pretend like everything was okay last night?

You’re….so….confused.

You look over to Yeonjun and bite your lip.

Stop overthinking.

Just ask him when he wakes up….it’s probably nothing.

Your eyes dart from him to his phone again and you sigh, hating yourself for what you’re about to do.

You check his recent call list, and your eyes widen. All you see is Mia’s name.

Missed calls, calls that went through, calls from him to Mia and calls he had with her in the week he was ‘too busy’ while ignoring you.

‘Don’t. Freak. Out. Play it smart, play it safe.’ you tell yourself. You quickly put his phone back on the nightstand and put the pile of clothes next to it.

Walking out of your bedroom and closing the door behind you.

Yeonjun woke up about half an hour later. He looked around your room, but you were nowhere to be found. He frowned, discarding of the pillow in his arms that he was hugging tightly and as he did, so he found his phone on your bedside table, on top of a pile of his folded clothes from last night.

He didn’t think much of it, thinking you were in the living room or something but when he opened his phone and saw Mia’s already opened texts, he sits up immediately in shock.

“Fuck,” he curses, kicking the sheets off of him. He put on his boxers with the speed of light while making his way to your living room. Empty.

Kitchen, empty.

Bathroom, empty.

“Shit baby, where are you…”

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong?” Soobin rushed over to you. You were seated on a bench in the park in front of your apartment complex, reading the screenshot you took from their texts over and over again to make sense of it all.

You told him it was an emergency, so he hurried to your side as quickly as possible.

He hugged you tightly and your lip starts to tremble as you bite down on it harshly, trying not to cry.

“Soobin, I hope I’m wrong, I really fucking hope I’m wrong,” your voice was shaky and laced with sadness as you looked up at him with big and confused eyes.

“Y/n…you’re scaring me,” Soobin says as he rubs your back, sitting down next to on the bench.

You hand him the phone in silence, and he smacks his lips in confusion as he read it, his pupils darting back and forth in disbelief.

“What is this?” He manages to ask, not understanding what was going on.

“You said she was acting weird since school started, they have been calling each other all throughout summer even when the semester started. When he was too busy to reply to my texts, he was on the phone with her…” you stop yourself from rambling and look at Soobin.

He looked completely hurt. “This…has to make sense somehow. Don’t think the worst of it. Mia would never do this to me,” he tells himself in reassurance. She wouldn’t. He had to believe it to stay sane.

Soobin’s last relationship ended with the girl cheating on him and if it was to happen again, he wouldn’t be able to take it. Especially with Mia. He has never had a relationship that he was so sure about before, but this…and with Yeonjun? Nothing made sense to him.

“I’ll call her over.” Soobin says through his teeth... “They’ve got some explaining to do.”

Your phone was blowing up with calls from Yeonjun but you didn’t pick up, waiting for Mia to get to your apartment. You lured her in the same way you told Soobin to come, hoping that she would race to be by your side just as quickly, cause if not; you’d know enough.

To your surprise, she arrived in no time, her face full of worry as she approached, but when she saw Soobin beside you with an equally fallen facial expression to yours, she stopped in her tracks.

“W-what’s going on?” She asks as she made her way to you, putting a hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off, making her step back in shock at your coldness.

“Soobin…” Mia started but he sighed. “Let’s go inside first.”

Yeonjun sat defeated on your couch after a quick shower and a change of clothes, waiting for you to return home. He sighed, rubbing his forehead but when he heard your door open, he got on his feet in a split second.

He made his way to the front door watching you walk in with sad eyes followed by Soobin and Mia.

Oh…no.

“Baby…let me explain.” He starts, taking a step closer to you but you took a step back as he did. Hiding behind Soobin who stood between you two protectively.

Mia’s eyes dart from you to Soobin to Yeonjun and suddenly everything clicked to her.

“You saw the texts…” Mia speaks, her eyes looking down at the floor.

“Someone better start talking, or I swear to god.” Soobin says clenching his fists.

“It’s not what you think. I swear. We came here last night to talk to you both, but your parents were here and y/n you were so happy…I couldn’t do that to you..” Mia says she gets teary-eyed.

“Do what to me!? What are you talking about? Stop being so fucking vague.” You yell at them, your gaze lingering on Yeonjun.

Mia sighed, throwing her head back, emotion getting the best of her.

“Yeonjun…please…after last night…I can’t…,” you didn’t finish your sentence because he already knew what you meant.

“It’s nothing like that. I swear. Y/n believe me.”

“Then what,” Soobin speaks averting his gaze to Mia.

“I was keeping tabs on y/n through her.” Yeonjun says with sad eyes, and Mia slowly walked over to Yeonjun’s side so she could look at both you and Soobin clearly.

“What?” you say confused as ever, why would he do that? Why would he need to consult your best friend instead of talking to you personally when he had the chance to.

“That night of the funeral, I noticed something weird about him.” Mia chimes in. “He was looking at all of you as if he was trying to remember your faces and something didn’t sit right. I walked into the kitchen to talk to him and…”

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to come back.” Yeonjun says, finishing Mia’s sentence.

Your heart dropped, looking at Yeonjun with disbelief.

“Y-you weren’t coming back?” you question in horror.

“And you knew?” Soobin says averting his attention to Mia.

She avoided his gaze, playing with her sleeves.

“Y/n…you don’t get it. There are so many secrets, so much baggage. So much pain. I didn’t want to come back to you unable to give you what you deserve. I needed to make sure my past didn’t haunt me back to school.”

“So instead of talking to me about it…you were going to ghost on me?” You were past being just hurt. The fact that it was so easy for him to turn his back on you was beyond your comprehension; and the fact that Mia basically aided him in doing so only amplified how damaged you were by the revelation.

You couldn’t even be angry. You were just sad, disappointed, and broken.

“Y/n…being in the know could get you hurt. If malicious people were after the company, or if my dad had enemies I didn’t know about… I could never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me. If I told you, you would never leave my side. You know that.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have left you!” you sniff. “You told me you loved me for crying out loud!” you yell at him as tears spill from your eyes and Yeonjun broke at the sight.

“Please…please don’t cry.” He stood in front of you, grabbing your face to make you look at him but you push him off of you. “You could have told me before you decided to fuck me last night.”

Yeonjun gulped. “N-no, y/n. Please. It’s not like that.”

Soobin glared at Yeonjun, anger filling his senses until his eyes landed on Mia, his anger turning to sadness as they made eye contact.

“What he does is his business. I get why he’d want to handle his business before he returned. I do. He could have handled it better, but we already know that Yeonjun hyung is fucked up. But you…lied to me…for two months…you lied to me so easily…Mia…that’s…” Soobin’s disappointment was evident.

“I was just…trying to help.” Mia sighed wiping the tears from her eyes.

You couldn’t even look at her. All the heartache you went through, venting to her about how much you missed Yeonjun all while she knew that he had no intention of coming back made you sick to your stomach.

“When will you stop choosing other people over our relationship?” Soobin says, his sadness turning back to anger as he raised his voice a little.

“That night when Yeonjun hyung and y/n fought…you rushed to be with her instead of staying with me to go together. You left me that night and I needed you.”

“Soobin…don’t…please.” Mia was sobbing by now. The empathy in yourself felt bad for her, but she did this to herself, and frankly, you were still too mad at her to jump in her defense.

“Why did you do it? Why did you keep it from me?” You sniff as you look at Mia, her heart breaking into a million pieces seeing your distressed state.

“Because I didn’t want you to be hurt…” she replies through her tears.

You can’t help but scoff, aggressively wiping your tears from your eyes with your sleeves. “This hurts way worse,” you say as new tears spill from your eyes. You were trying to breathe normally through your tears, but you couldn’t manage to calm down until Soobin grabbed your hand.

Yeonjun was looking at you, defeated as ever. He lost. Again. “Y/n…”

“No…” you stop him from speaking. “Please, shut up. I hope you had your fun with me last night. If I’m such a joke to you then please grab your shit and leave.”

“Y/n, stop. You know how much I love you.” Yeonjun pleads. He needs you to understand that he felt like he didn’t have a choice. That it was an either-or situation to him, but you were hurt and angry. You weren’t going to listen to him now and he knew that.

“No, no I don’t,” you say looking down, and Yeonjun’s heart shattered.

“I don’t think I can be with someone who can’t seem to get her priorities straight. I was always afraid I loved you more than you loved me” Soobin states looking at Mia with hollow eyes.

Yeonjun, yours and Mia’s eyes widen simultaneously at Soobin’s cold words.

You swallow harshly, looking up at him. “Soobin…”

He didn’t look at you as he bit his lip, tears filling the brims of his eyes as he kept staring into Mia’s tearful eyes “I need time,” he says raking his hand through his hair. “Alone.”

“N-no, Soobin. I-” Mia starts, but Soobin was already on to the next.

“And you,” he says diverting his attention to Yeonjun as he pulls you behind him protectively as if he was hiding you from him.

“You hang up this sad story about wanting to work on yourself, making sure y/n gets what she deserves from you. Wanting to keep her safe from god knows what. But you return just as fucked up as you left? Maybe even worse.” Soobin snaps, taking a step in Yeonjun's direction but Yeonjun didn’t budge though.

You pull him back by his arm, giving him a pleading look to contain himself.

Yeonjun was looking at his best friend with sad eyes for a second until he avoided his glare, looking at Mia on your couch with her face buried in her hands.

“You can’t be mad at her. I asked her to keep quiet.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you asked of her. She’s her own person, making her own decisions. As are you.” Soobin strikes back.

“Was it worth it? Did you at least find something useful about your family?”

Yeonjun shook his head in disappointment and looked at you. You were still looking down, clinging onto Soobin’s arm for leverage. You were sure your legs were going to give out on you if you didn’t hold onto him, so you held on for dear life.

“I couldn’t find anything. I came back because Lita helped me realize that my happiness is here. With you, the guys…with y/n.

You glanced up at the mentioning of your name.

“Nothing back home outweighed what I have here... My mind was clouded by loss and sadness. I couldn’t think straight and completely lost myself in the company and dealt with grief the wrong way, but I promise, I’m getting help. I’m going into therapy, I’m going to be better.”

Soobin scoffed. “Seeing is believing,” he states as he tugs on your arm.

“Let yourselves out. I’m not staying here to look at your faces.” he says as he pulls you with him

You stop in your tracks, your eyes darting from a lost looking Yeonjun to a broken looking Mia.

Leaving them in your apartment while you left felt odd, but you didn’t know what else to do at this point.

You lock eyes with Yeonjun and quickly avoid his stare, sadness washing over you as you see a tear spill from the corners of his eyes.

“Let’s go y/n.”

The halls of the massive Vila were completely empty.

Yeonjun’s mother had left for a long day at Choi Enterprises a few hours ago. Leaving Lita on her own in the house.

Lita’s heels were ticking on the marble tiled floor as she made her way through the endless halls.

Her stride slowed as she approached Daniel’s old home office, looking over her shoulder before she retrieved a key from her pocket to unlock the door.

She walked through, closing the door behind her, making her way to the bookcase in silence.

Her fingers grazed over the shelves, looking for the 13th book from the 9th shelf, Yeonjun’s birthday.

Lita pulled on the book and stepped back as the bookcase folded inwards automatically, revealing a staircase to a hidden bunker in the house.

She looked over her shoulder once again, calmly making her way down the hidden lair.

It was dusty and dark. The only things left in the room being an old desk, a computer, a phone, and some vaults.

She waited patiently before the clock strikes 5.53 PM.

The old phone on the desk rang, just like they agreed on and she sighed contently, clearing her throat before she accepted the call.

“I did what you said. The boy isn’t a problem anymore. He went back to that college.”

She took deep breath. Relaxing at the thought of Yeonjun no longer butting in to her business.

“We can proceed with our plans, I still have people shadowing him just in case.” she says as she smiled to herself.

“It will all be ours soon honey. We’re closer than ever now.”

Chapter 12

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twoflipstwotwists · 3 years

Link

Becky Downie has missed out on an Olympics before. In a 13-year gymnastics career, which has seen her win 14 major medals, she felt the heartbreak of watching a home Games from the sidelines in 2012. But this time is different, she says.

On Monday, her shock omission from the Tokyo 2020 team was announced, and she now says she can “never forget” the turmoil she endured from British Gymnastics during the selection process. She also hints that her treatment was influenced by her decision to speak out at the culture of abuse within gymnastics, suggesting she was “made to feel not welcome” at the sport’s training hub at Lilleshall after going public.

In an exclusive interview with Telegraph Sport, Downie describes the last few weeks as "the hardest of her life". She had thought things could not get worse than 2020: Olympic postponement, the fallout after she joined whistleblowers to speak publicly about what she described as "normalised" abusive training environments, and her father's time in intensive care battling Covid-19.

But last month tragedy struck when her brother Josh, 24, died suddenly from an undiagnosed heart condition while playing cricket. It was news Downie says "you never imagine receiving". To make things worse, she received the devastating call on the eve of the final Olympic team trial, while apart from her family at a hotel in Cardiff.

"I got a knock on the door after midnight, and my first thought was it must be drug testers," Downie says of that night. "I was half asleep, completely dazed. The coaches came in and when they told me [that Josh had died], I thought, am I actually dreaming this? There are really no words to really describe it. There were a lot of tears. It was the longest journey of my life, getting back to be with my family in Nottingham."

Sat in her living room in Nottingham now, Downie still has a look of disbelief on her face as she describes the events of the last few weeks. Condolence cards are placed around the room to mark how raw and recent her family's grief remains. Mounting more pain on top of that seems unimaginable, but the blows have kept coming.

Just two months ago, she was on top of the world after executing what she believes is a world leading uneven bars routine. At 29, she felt in the form of her life. When she posted a video of her routine online, major champions were applauding her in the comments, even the legendary Nadia Comaneci. Downie believes the routine put her in contention for a gold medal.

But last Friday her appeal was denied, and British Gymnastics confirmed she would not go to Tokyo. It is less than two years since she won a stunning silver medal at the World Championships - a competition that counted as a trial for the Olympic squad - but somehow she has failed to make even the three reserve spots for Tokyo. Though Downie has wished all of the gymnasts selected the best, she remains baffled by her exclusion - especially because she “met all the criteria” and her trials scores put her top of the rankings in bars.

British Gymnastics have defended the decision, saying they are focusing on medals in the team event, and that Downie's specialism in bars posed a "risk" to this strategy. But it has caused uproar, with a petition calling for an independent review of the selection process receiving 25,000 signatures in the last five days. Beyond selection though, Downie says what hurts the most is the way she believes the decision was made and how she was treated in the process.

After missing the final trial due to bereavement, Downie and sister Ellie were given another opportunity by British Gymnastics to compete for their spot on the team 10 days later. Though Ellie elected not to do so, Downie made the brave decision to take up the offer.

"I know that Josh would want me to, he wouldn't want me not to try," she says. What followed though, was a process where she alleges British Gymnastics lacked "any element of compassion".

They did not allow her to compete at her home gym in Nottingham or at the national centre at Lilleshall. British Gymnastics then rejected a venue she and her coach proposed and instead suggested she return to Cardiff - a six-hour round trip from her home and the very place she had learned of her brother's passing.

"That's the part that hurt me most. I refused. Why would I want to go back there? I don’t think that should have been asked of me at all."

Another venue was confirmed instead, and though British Gymnastics emphasised their intention to replicate as closely as possible the environment that the other gymnasts had competed in in Cardiff - for the benefit of fairness - Downie says it was her that was put at the disadvantage.

New obstacles included British Gymnastics failing to book her training slot at the chosen venue - a basic thing that all of the athletes had for their trial - which saw her make a 90-minute trip and have to plead with the Leisure Centre to remain open. She also had an existing dispute with the governing body because they refused to allow her to use equipment at the trial which more closely resembled that being used in Tokyo. As a bars specialist, this meant she couldn't perform her highest difficulty routine. "It's like telling Lewis Hamilton to get in a Ferrari and drive - in a sport of small margins, and high performance, equipment is always a factor."

Actually competing in the trial, while still reeling from the death of her brother, was "the hardest thing I ever had to do", and she describes national coaches walking past her wordlessly while she “sobbed uncontrollably”. But afterwards, she and Ellie walked out of the gym with "not a doubt in our mind" that she had done enough.

"If I can perform in that environment, which was harder than any Olympic final would ever be, I’m really proud," she says.

But, according to British Gymnastics, it was not enough. Knowing now that the team event was the priority in selection, she believes her exclusion from the team was already a foregone conclusion before her trial.

British Gymnastics "categorically" denies the suggestion that the trial was a "tick box" exercise, and say they trust that selection was decided purely on merit, but Downie is unconvinced. To add insult to injury, she was given a 48-hour deadline to appeal the decision, falling on the day of her brother's funeral.

"It makes me feel sick that they treated me like that," she says. "It hurts me to know the things I had to miss. Picking the flowers for the funeral whilst I was away trialling, a tribute for my brother at his cricket club, which happened when I wasn’t even given a proper training slot. I missed that, for what? There’s so much that was hurtful.

"I'll never forget that. And no amount of apologies will ever make that okay."

Downie and her sister were two of the only current British gymnasts to speak out about abuse in the sport last year, which triggered an independent review commissioned by UK Sport and Sport England. When she was left out of the squad on Monday, lobbying group Gymnasts for Change called it a "sinister warning" being sent by British Gymnastics to whistleblowers.

Does Downie think this outcome is a result of her speaking out? "It's very hard to say... But I definitely know that there has been a big behavioural shift towards me and Ellie, since that point, from certain individuals, decision makers. We’ve gone down to Lilleshall and been made to feel not welcome.

"I have been told by a person of significant importance - in the national team environment - that a lot of coaches do not agree with what we've done. Maybe I did open my mouth a year too soon, I'm not sure. If this is the sacrifice [an Olympics] then this is the sacrifice, change needs to happen. I’m proud of what I did and I don’t regret it."

Tokyo was meant to be her final bow, but now Downie has spent her first week in months out of the gym.

Downie is adamant though that she is not done with gymnastics. Despite the heartache and hurt caused, her love for the sport remains strong.

"It’s hard for me to think, can I be selected for a team ever again? I do know I want to carry on, because I want to show that routine. I haven’t done two years of work to sit on the sofa. There’s a World Championships this year. They certainly don’t have control over my final chapter. I know I want to compete again on my terms."

But the dream of Olympic gold is gone: "I genuinely believe that we could have done it. I think I had a shot at being the first female Olympic champion Britain has had in gymnastics."

#becky downie #ellie downie #bg deserves to burn

82 notes · View notes

ignyxdaughter · 3 years

Text

𝐗𝐈𝐈 — 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐓

(𝐦𝐨𝐛 𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬! 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 / 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐨 𝐱 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬)

READ ON WATTPAD

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A/N: Hey, guys! I got in hiatus for a little, but now Im back! I was having a hard time and not in a good mood, so it was tough to finally write something that felt good. So I preferred to give myself a break and write a good fic for you than write a shitty thing. From the bottle of my heart, thank you for all that are reading and liking my fics💕

A/N: English is not my first language. I don’t own The Punisher and Legacies characters; they’re, respectively, Stan Lee and Marvel Studios, L. J. Smith and Julie Plec. Also, this is my Billy and some The Punisher events will be changed due to the story's course!

word count: 2402

warnings: mentions of torture, depression and self-harm

────────── ★ ★ ★ ──────────

I look around the broken room. The only intact thing here are the windows and the door. Everything’s shattered because of the rage I wanted to pull out of me.

I’m still pissed.

It’s been 2 weeks and nothing’s working on. No advance on finding Frank or Katarina, no suspects on the case, no news from Homeland or CIA… No improvement on her.

Since that day, she doesn’t talk to me unless for answering a question. Actually, she doesn’t talk to anyone anymore. She just sits her ass on the couch early in the morning and looks at the window till afternoon, when she picks up the new files about the case for her to read and analyze. Usually she’s done early in the night, and when I arrive from work, Leroy shakes his head to say another day passed without any problem.

I always look at her from the upper floor. She doesn’t need blood anymore, so Dr. Watson said to give her intravenous iron till her system’s start to produce hemoglobin again. If she has any decay, she’ll have to drink iron pills.

Katherine is the most troublemaker hostage I’ve ever had. She actually made my life more difficult instead of making it easier. If Katarina was the kidnapped one instead of her, oh, how I’d had it all solved in a week.

But somehow I started to miss her bitchy side. I mean, she’s better than the robot that’s living with me right now. Katherine’s on her own bubble and that’s awful — it ruins everyone’s mood. Amberly told me she doesn’t insult her back anymore nor makes good talk with Dante nor irritates Dominic for fun. Hell, she even stopped smoking!

I hate that fucking robot.

“You know her, don’t you?” I ask Sorrel as she enters my office. She’d cut me off if I did this on the phone, so I brought her back here to talk.

“What?” She frowns to seem confused, but I see the slight tense on her shoulders.

“You know what I’m talking about, so quit that little act.” I throw the files on her, which she catches and begins to read it. “That’s your files about her. You arrived here 2 hours before the deadline that day. You never do that.”

“She didn’t have much information”, she shrugs. “So what?”

“So what”, I hum and stand up. “Who were you torturing in Small Heath?”

“Suspects.”

“Suspects allies of Katarina or suspects that had tortured Katherine?” Her blue eyes go wide in a second. “She told me after I saw it.”

Sorrel crosses her arms. “I was investigating Katarina’s case. I just had to do a little pit stop.”

“To avenge Katherine.”

“The money I found out was part of the investigation. Is all Katarina’s sick family.” Hum, the same grudge of the Morris as Katherine. “So what I did something besides that? You’ve never complained about that.”

“‘Cause I had no reason!” I yell. “You know everything about Katherine, don’t you, Sorrel? You knew she was a Mikaelson, you didn’t tell me and fucked me ‘bout that! Do you know the risk you put me through?!”

“Oh, so now you’re afraid of something. Took you long enough, Russo.”

“They’re the most powerful family in the criminal world. If I hurt Katherine back then, I’d be being chase right now!”

She chuckles. “Technically you’ve already hurt her. 24 hours without water, food and bathroom? That seems enough for me to know I couldn’t trust her past on you!”

“You knew it all!”

“Even if I didn’t I still would protect her!” She screams in anger, widening her eyes after realizing what she said.

Bingo.

“What are you gonna do now? Fire me? I’m the best and still have some informations to give. You wouldn’t dare.”

I smirk. The confession’s made. “You’re right. I wouldn’t. But I would make you talk.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Ok.” I face her. “Katherine’s weak. Her arm was stitched and her anaemia came back. I’m sure you know her state right now.” Her grin falters in the same moment. The advantage is all on me. “I’ve seen the forearm scars too. Too deep to hurt but too shallow to be from a torture. They’re old, but I’m quite sure her demons are still in her head.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“She has depression. Doesn’t she, Sorrel?”

“If you do anything to her—”

“Add this to her physical weakness and she’s vulnerable right now. And in my hands.”

“You said yourself you don’t want to be hunted. So if you try to hurt her—”

“I wouldn’t hurt her. But I’d make her think about her life.” The glare on Sorrel’s face is of pure hatred. It’s easy to see she wants to kill me and break into the penthouse to get her friend out of my hands… Too bad that won’t happen. “Depressed people are like that, aren’t they? They don’t need to get beaten to be hurt. They do the dirty job themselves.”

She doesn’t need to know I’m bluffing, that I’d never do that to Katherine — I need my own detective for the case. Sorrel’s afraid of her friend, of her current state and shitty situation. She’s mad, not just at me but at Rina too, and I need that rage for her to find my ex and make her life hell. ‘Cause dear Katherine wouldn’t be suffering all this if it wasn’t for her sister.

Minutes pass before the spy breaks the silence. Her mind is probably racing faster than a F1 race car. “I’ll tell you everything if you don’t hurt or manipulate her. You and your henchmen can’t even dream about it.”

I nod. “Well—”

“And I want to see her.”

“Seems we have a deal, Alderidge.” I smirk and sit down, nodding to the chair in front of me. “Spit it all out.”

If looks could kill, I’d be burning in lava right now.

────────── ★ ★ ★ ──────────

I open the penthouse door with Sorrel behind me. Katherine’s on the couch as usual, laying there and looking at the ceiling. I nod at Dominic and Rixton to get out, but watch the doors, before allowing Sorrel to slowly walk to her friend.

I go upstairs to watch them from a distance. Someone will have to hold Katherine if Sorrel says today’s events. She told me my hostage was adopted by Elijah Mikaelson when she was a child after running away from home, where she was mistreated. Though the spy didn’t detail anything, it was enough. She explained everything about the Strix, how the few people there want to avenge Tristan, the previous leader that was killed by Elijah. That’s why Katherine was tortured in Small Heath, to pay for her father’s actions. Actions that were made before she was even born.

If Sorrel hadn’t tortured and killed the guys, I would’ve done it myself.

Wait. Why the hell are you thinking that, Billy? Katherine’s just a pawn! It doesn’t matter if she got hurt or not.

Oh, dear, am I starting to melt?

“How are you doing?” Sorrel murmurs loud enough to my hostage.

“Weren’t you on a mission?” Katherine says with a husky voice, since she hasn’t been using it much. But what’s weird is that she doesn’t face her friend. From what Sorrel told me, they’re BFFs that love to see each other.

“Came back for you.” The fucking robot scoffs. “I’m serious.”

“Okay.”

“I swear on my mother’s grave!”

“Your mother’s been dead for years, Sorrel.”

A minute of silence. “I’m doing everything to protect you, you know that?” No answer, so she continues: “I hadn’t told them. They don’t know what’s happening to you. But— I had to—”

“I know.” She’s shitting me. There’s no way she’d actually kno— “New York is a long pit stop, even for you. Plus, you two entered here together, so it’s obvious you had a little talk.”

She knows. She’s guessed Sorrel and I conversation the moment we stepped here. She must’ve seen us by the window’s reflection. That’s why she didn’t turn to her friend. Why do that when you’re already seeing her?

I’ll never get used to how good this woman is in playing detective. Thank God she isn’t one ‘cause half of my allies would be gone by now if she was a government puppy like Madani.

Sorrel sighs and sits in front of Katherine to force her look at her. “I didn’t betray you. I never will.”

“I know.”

“You’ll be alright, ok? Katarina will be dead this year, and you’ll heal from that anaemia of yours like always.”

She chuckles. Maybe an emotion? Finally something new on the robot version? Please, let it be this. I can’t stand shy Katherine anymore. “I’ll try my best.”

“Good. I love you, you know that?” She nods and Sorrel hugs her in the same moment. “You’re important. You’re special.”

“I love you too”, Katherine’s sad smile starts a weird fuzzy feeling in my chest. It’s like I was touched by her expressions and currently situation. This never happened before so why now? Maybe I’m going mad with all the stress.

“Take care of yourself. No one will hurt you.”

“I know.”

Sorrel chuckles. “Good ‘cause you’re always right.”

She smirks. “I am.”

“I have to go now”, she stands up and giver her another hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll be alright.” Sorrel raises a brow, probably skeptical, since Katherine’s not a trustable person at all. “I promise.”

“Okay”, she shrugs with a sigh and looks up at me just to fucking point a finger. “You hurt her, you’re dead!”

I raise my hands as in redemption, which is ironic ‘cause that’s never going to happen. “Don’t worry ‘bout that, Alberidge. She’s in good hands.”

“I’m serious, Russo.”

“I am too.”

Sorrel narrows her blue eyes at me before taking another quick glance at Katherine and leaving. I look at my hostage, who turned her head to the window the minute the penthouse door closed. She’s gonna continue the cycle again: wake up, couch, window, files, window, sleep. Didn’t her friend’s visit had any effect on her?

I sigh. This is gonna be tough.

“Any news?”

“From your friend?” She doesn’t look away from the window, which makes me strangle her more.

“If there was something ‘bout Frank, I’d know first than you.” I start to go down the stairs. “I’m saying about the case.” Or your life.

“Your spy master Boris must’ve told you. Besides, you know first than me.”

“But I want to hear from that mouth of yours.”

She sighs, but looks at me indifferent. At least that’s better than talking to a robot. “There are some buyers of Hamptons. Homeland and CIA are probably searching through them, starting for the ones with a record. But there’s a name here—” she picks one of the papers on the coffee table and reads out loud: “Vittorio Benedetti.”

“Who the hell is that?”

“A businessman; have some contracts with Ferrari. That would explain why he wants the alcohol: it’s cheaper from Hamptons.”

“There’s more.”

“Of course there’s more.” She sits up straighter. “Something you don’t know.”

“Spit it out, Mikaelson. I’m getting tired.”

“A long time ago, Vittorio crossed the wrong path, someone’s path. A person with a name. He wanted money, so he tried to get into the black market. I think you know, Russo, that when an arrogant person enters the market as owning everything, they aren’t warned about some people.”

Oh, this is getting good. And deserves a cup of whiskey. “Who did he cross?”

Katherine waves me off. “He made a service to this person, thieving from what I’ve heard, but he left some trails behind. The client wasn’t happy and didn’t pay him, so he decided to get some vengeance by burning down his whole mansion in Miami.”

I stop midway on pouring myself a drink. I know that story and how it ends. I remember him telling in a party how he chased Benedetti for 2 weeks and tortured him to death, not because of the revenge, but ‘cause the fire hurt his current lover. I remember wanting to find out who was this girl and trying to see a weakness in her just in case my ally dares to betray me one day. Just in case.

It’s better to be prepared than a loser.

“His the madman who crossed Kage?!” I turn to Katherine in shock. “Fucking Kage Petrov?” She nods. “Damn… He asked to die.”

“You’re surprised.”

“Of course I’m surprised. The man is the dumbest person in the world! It’s like betraying me: there’s no safe place to hide.”

Katherine’s smirking at me as if having fun. Is the robot version finally leaving her? “You understand now why he bought from Hamptons?” I look at her, unsolvinv the puzzle in my head. “He needed the alcohol to make, in seconds, a—”

“Huge fire. And now that he’s dead—”

“Missing.”

I scoff while facing her. “We both know that’s not true.”

“But is what that government puppies think.” She stands up and goes to me. “When they get into Benedetti’s file and see that a rich businessman has gone missing for almost a year, they’re gonna focus on finding him.”

She’s so close now that I can feel her warm breath. It’s weird to have goosebumps on my nape.

“They’re gonna search through all his documents and contracts and clients just to find a single trait.”

My heart skips a beat when she adjusts herself, an arm onto my shoulder, to say in my ear: “But little do they know that their man is gone. And we’re on the advantage… because we know what’s happened.”

I grab her chin to make her look at me. “There’s gonna be an event tomorrow and Kage’s gonna be there.”

“And?”

“You’re gonna go with me—”, I look her up and down, imagining how she’d be all produced “as my company.”

Her smirk vanishes and she tries to get away from me, but I harden my hold on her. “I’m not ready.”

“Too bad we have a deal, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I remember your requests: dark colors and no neckline in the back.”

She avoids my eyes now. “My arm—”

“Will be covered. Dr. Watson will take a look on it tomorrow too.”

Katherine sighs. “I have no choice, have I?”

I smirk. “No.”

I let go of her as a winner, but there’s something on my hostage’s face that doesn’t make me feel like it. She’s with that shitty grin as if she knows something I don’t and returns to sit at the couch and look at the window as if nothing’s happened. This makes me have a shiver on the stomach and legs. That’s not common.

I go up the stairs and arrive my bedroom to see if Boris sent me any news, but something catches my eyes the minute I close the door.

Shit.

I’m hard.

#fanfic wattpad #spy au #assassin au #billy russo #mob! billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x oc #billy russo x you #the punisher #the punisher fanfic #the vampire diaries #the originals #legacies #the mikaelsons #a trap for broken souls #máfia stories #original character

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zillennial97 · 4 years

Text

My All-Time Favorites | Larry Fanfic Recs

*these works are the closest to my heart and my best recommendations*

Hiding Place by alivingfire | 365k | Explicit

Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.

From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance.

Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

And Then a Bit by infinitelymint | 158k | Explicit

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.

(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy | 149k | Explicit

Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything I’ve tried to do.”

“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”

“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his eyes.- A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan.

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry | 136k | Explicit

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | Mature

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

Fucking Animals by pointerbrother | 116k | Explicit

“Just, off the record,” she says, voice lower, eyes sharper, crook of her mouth quirking up a little, “don’t you ever miss it? A good knot? You must.”

Louis blinks and then swallows, thickly. “No,” he exclaims, offended that she’d even ask, “I love my husband. And anyway, how could I miss something I’ve never had?”

---

Louis is the frontman of an equal rights-movement, author of a book about beta-omega marriage and the struggles of being born and boxed into a personality you don't necessarily feel you fit. The notion that an omega must want to be with an alpha or else he or she's just settling for less, is bullshit.

But, fucking hell.

we're not friends, we could be anything by nooelgallagher, yoursongonmyheart | 115k | Explicit

Louis narrows his eyes at Harry. “What that supposed to be a fucking joke?”

Harry narrows his eyes right back. “It was a good joke.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Jokes require laughter, Curls.” Louis glances down at Harry’s thighs again, Christ. “Your pants must be so tight they’re restricting airflow to your brain.”

Harry wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead. “Pretty sure yoga is supposed to increase airflow, blood flow, and all that,” he responds dryly, finally jumpstarting himself and walking away from Louis towards his own bedroom.

Louis can’t help but stare at his broad back, still sheen with drying sweat, and his perky bum in the tight yoga pants.

Louis swallows. Christ.

...Or, the one where Harry and Louis are unlikely uni flatmates who definitely don't like each other and definitely won't fall in love (even if Liam and Niall think otherwise).

Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | Mature

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Our Lives, Non-Fiction by indiaalphawhiskey | 113k | Explicit

Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin.

Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong?

Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.

You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by lucythegoosey | 95k | Explicit

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

This Wicked Game by cherrystreet | 70k | Explicit

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

Christmas-ing With You by dolce_piccante | 65k | Mature

Two writers from Loving Heart Television, the premiere network for holiday romance films, find that, sometimes, love is not only in their works of fiction.

Barefoot in Blue Jeans by indiaalphawhiskey | 24k | Explicit

AU. Louis Tomlinson is trying desperately hard not to fall for his son’s au pair, but he can’t, for the life of him, remember why.

475. The hope that this fear is unfounded.

#larry fanfiction recommendations #larry fanfic rec #larry fic #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson #louis tomlinson #harry styles #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic recs #larry fanfiction masterpost

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years

Text

I Only Have Eyes For You

Fandom: Chicago Med / One Chicago

Character/s: Connor Rhodes x Reader,

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 3,162

Request: Hi there, can I get an imagine for reader x Connor Rhodes. Lightly based upon 01x03 Fallback where Connor treats on one of his father's employees and his father tried to take him off the case. So like the reader and Connor are married (got married during their residency) and the father flirts with reader who also works at med not knowing that's his son's wife as he didn't think someone like Connor could snag a girl like the reader. The ending is up to you. Thank you x

“Maybe you should talk to him,” you suggested, putting your hand on your husband, Connor’s, shoulder as he stared distantly into his locker, his mind clearly elsewhere.

“I don’t want to talk to him Y/N, I’ve barely spoken to him in years,” Connor sighed, slamming his locker closed and turning to face you. He hadn’t expect to see his dad today, heading into Med behind an ambulance basically demanding to speak to Miss Goodwin and his son at once. Connor had been in surgery at the start of shift so he hadn’t actually come face to face with the man yet, but it was only a matter of time.

“Well now might be your chance, he is in the ED afterall,” you reminded him and he rubbed his face with his hands. It had been a long surgery, starting off the last shift of a very long week, and you knew the last thing your husband wanted was to talk to his father, but maybe he needed to.

“He’s downstairs because one of his employees got hurt on the job and he’s trying to do damage control before a lawsuit is filed, he isn’t here to see me,” Connor all but snapped, his face softening when he realised and squeezing your hand apologetically. There had been some kind of mishap at one of his stores from what you could gather, and one of Cornelius’ workers had found himself practically crushed under a bit of the structure that wasn’t as up to code as it should be.

“I get that, really Connor I do, I’m just saying that while he’s here, maybe you should talk to him, even if it’s just to say your piece,” you tried, knowing that Connor still had a lot of baggage surrounding his father, baggage that had been putting a bit of a strain on your marriage, or more specifically, any discussion of having children. Getting things off of his chest might be the only way for him to move forward, you reasoned.

“I have nothing to say to him, Y/N, he’s the parent, not me, it shouldn’t be on me to be the bigger person,” Connor replied, and he was right, but damn if the Rhodes men weren’t the most stubborn men you’d ever met.

“But you are the bigger person, the better person-” you began, knowing that Connor was ten times the man his father was, and maybe it was about time Cornelius Rhodes saw that for himself, but you were starting to realise that you were crossing a line as Connor interrupted you.

“Y/N, the last time I tried to reach out to my father he decided he’d rather go on a business trip than attend his own son’s wedding,” he said, the bitter undertones very clear as you remembered how crushed he’d been. No matter how bad their relationship was, and even if he wouldn’t admit it, you knew Connor still loved his father, and for him to not show up to his own wedding had broken his heart. “Baby he’s never even met you, and that’s that on him, he’s made his priorities perfecrly clear.” he continued, cupping your face in his hands.

“Okay, okay,” you nodded, realising you weren’t getting anywhere with this conversation, “do you want me to drop it?” It was what you always asked each other when it seemed like you were going to have an argument, or whether you weren’t sure if you’d crossed a line in a conversation, you tried to respect each others boundaries as much as possible.

“Please, I know you’re trying to help but my relationship with my father is basically unsalvageable, and I’m moving forward,” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes, he was trying hard to make you believe him but you both knew you really didn’t, this wasn’t the kind of thing you just moved forward from.

“If you’re sure, he won’t be around forever,” you gave it one last try before letting it go for now, telling yourself you’d broach the subject again at a later date.

“I know, and I am,” he said, giving you a quick kiss before pulling away and grabbing his stethescope off of the table next to you, “thank you, though,” he added.

“For what?” You asked finally closing your own locker.

“For being so very you,” he smiled, a genuine smile this time as he looked back to you, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you replied, kissing his again as your phone vibrated in your pocket. Stepping back you fished it out, seeing a text from Will. “Oh that’s me, Will wants me in three to help with Mr Harris,” you explained to Connor as you both headed out the door towards the ED.

“My father’s guy?” Connor realised, opening the door for you and letting you out first as you checked over the message; apparently Cornelius was demanding a second opinion, clearly not satisfied by Will’s, but you decided not to tell Connor that right now.

“Yeah that’s the one,” you nodded, slipping the phone back into your pocket before he could see the rest of the text as you noticed Maggie signalling for you to hurry it along, that couldn’t be good.

“Good luck, you’re gonna need it,” Connor noted Maggie’s impatient gestures as you picked up the pace.

“You’re all the luck I need,” you joked, winking at him as you parted ways, Dr Latham needed him upstairs in 5 for a consult, a fact which he was more than happy with since he was supposed to be working the ED all day.

“Ooh cheesy, go on get out of here,” Connor laughed as you waved your goodbyes, heading to three.

Maggie met you half way and handed you Mr Harris’ chart, looking irritated.

“Everything okay?” You asked, noting the angry voices you could now hear coming from the room to your right, the curtains not providing much in the way of sound proofing, not that you thought Cornelius cared much.

“How Connor turned out the way he did with a father like that is beyond me,” Maggie told you quietly as you quickly flipped through the chart, “he’s been demanding this, that and the other since he got here, and now he thinks Dr Halstead’s not telling Mr Harris all his option because he just wants to ‘extort him for more money’,” she mimicked in a hushed tone as you rolled you eyes, it’s not like he couldn’t afford it anyway, you thought, but there was something about having more money that made some people think they were so damn entitled...

Putting on your best cordial smile you pulled back the curtain and entered, the men stopping in their heated conversation as you did, frozen on some discussion about cost. Will did his best to hide his relieved look when he saw you and Cornelius grumbled in frustration, completely unaware he was standing face to face with his daughter-in-law for the first time.

“Everything okay in here?” You asked, looking between the two men on their feet and the tired, slightly embarrassed, looking man in the hospital bed.

“Terrific sweetheart,” Cornelius retorted sarcastically and you internally rolled your eyes. Externally, you kept your features schooled and looked to the patient in the bed.

“Hi Mr Harris, my name is Doctor Y/L/N,” you told him, having kept your last name when you’d married Connor, a fact you were pretty glad about right now. You offered your hand and he shook it gratefully.

“Pleasure,” he said as you stepped back, facing Cornelius Rhodes as he rubbed his temple before looking to you, taking you in for the first time as he straightened his posture and cleared his throat.

“Cornelius Rhodes, it’s lovely to meet you,” he offered his hand and you shook it, the way he was looking at you making your skin crawl a little as he finally let go. “I was just discussing with your collegue over here the best treatment for my man here, and we seem to be having a disagreement,” the way his demeanor had changed in your presence was alarming, and Will was clearly taken aback by it too, he’d gone from demanding to charming in the blink of an eye.

“I see, well from reading Mr Harris’ chart it’s clear that there are only two option available, the impact seems to have done some internal damage that, while it might heal on its own over time, will most likely require surgery,” you explained in your perfected doctor voice as Will threw you a grateful glance. Cornelius clenched his jaw as he tried to maintain his own facade, pretending to mull over your words even though you knew Will would have said basically the same thing, and that Cornelius had already made up his mind.

“Surgery really is the best option Mr Harris,” Will told the patient, but instead of replying he looked back to Cornelius, the man who would be paying for either option no doubt. The surgery would be expensive, you knew that, and it grated you to know that the fate of this man’s life possibly rested on the greed of Cornelius Rhodes. Could Connor talk some sense into him? You mused to yourself as he began to answer.

“I understand your concern,” he said finally, addressing you alone, a far cry from the accusations of greed he’d thrown at Will before you arrived, “but that kind of surgery is not only expensive, but the recovery time would put him out of work, and he wouldn’t want that.” You hid your grimace as Mr Harris nodded, clearly feeling like he had to agree.

“I have deadlines coming up,” he spoke up as Cornelius gestured to him as if to say, see, there you have it, settled, as you did your best to maintain your friendly face.

“I understand where you’re coming from Mr Rhodes,” you lied, regreting ever trying to get Connor to patch things up with this vile, self-serving man. He didn’t deserve Connor for a son. “But if we leave it and it gets worse, the surgery will be much more invasive and expensive further down the line, not to mention the high risk and potential complications,” Mr Harris paled a little, but still waited for Cornelius to answer.

Seriously? He could sue this man and yet he was still scared of him, the man probably had no means of paying for the court bills that would require anyway, he needed Cornelius’ paychecks to keep a roof over his head. And he was making decisions about his life like he was a god damn asset and not a person.

“Well, that would be unfortunate,” Cornelius pondered and Will looked like he was close to losing it. It was no secret he prioritised his patients over all else, even their own wishes sometimes, and it was also no secret he’d never liked Cornelius Rhodes.

“Mr Rhodes-” Mr Harris voiced up but he was shushed, the other man still thinking. You didn’t know whether you or Will were closer to punching the man, Mr Harris clearly wanting to have the surgery now in fear of more severe future complications. If Cornelius wasn’t such an arrogant-

“Alright, if you thinking it will save money in the future- and more important of course Joseph’s well-being, then I suppose we could do the surgery,” he decided and Mr Harris sighed in relief. Cornelius smiled smugly, like he’d done something so generous, it made you sick to your stomach.

You consciously twisted the wedding ring on your finger as Will fetched the paperwork and soon Mr Harris was being wheeled off to wait for his surgery in a room upstairs, clearing the bay in the ED for the next patient. Will was more than happy to take the next person through the doors as you finalised the paperwork with Maggie, scheduling in his surgery in the system.

Connor texted you then as Cornelius was practically stalking towards you at the desks. He was letting you know that he was finished with Dr Latham and had thought about what you’d said, and maybe it was a good idea to talk to his father before he left. He’d be coming down any minute, but before you could reply Cornelius had reached you at the desks, a predatory look in his eyes that set off your fight or flight response.

“Dr Y/LN,” he grinned and you returned a polite and professional smile as he invaded your personal space, looking you up and down in a way that was so not okay, even if you weren’t his son’s wife. “Thank you for your help in there, your input was very... refreshing.”

“Of course, I was just doing my job, I’m glad Mr Harris is able to get the treatment he needs,” you replied tightly, realising that this conversation was far from over as he continued talking.

“It was the least I could you,” he said, seeming to take your statement as some kind of thanks or compliment to his ‘generosity’. “Say, how about you and me grab a coffee in the cafeteria so you can explain more about how this procedure works, on me of course. If you’re busy now, maybe after you finish work?” As he finished talking he inched closer to you, eyeing you suggestively.

Was he making a pass at you? Was this actually happening right now? You blinked in shock and it took you a second for your brain to process what was happening before you could answer him.

“Mr Rhodes, I’m flattered” you began and he grinned, like he already had it figured out that you were going to say yes even though you were far from actually flattered, “and while I would be happy to discuss your employee’s treatment with you in a professional manner, I’m... I’m married,” you explained, flashing your ring at him, the ring that his son had put on your finger.

“Well I don’t see him around anywhere,” Cornelius winked at you and you took an instinctive step back, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care, probably the latter if you were honest. “He’d never know.”

“Oh I’m certain he would,” a voice said from behind you and you turned to see Connor heading towards you both, anger clear on his face as he looked from you to his father.

“And why’s that?” Cornelius asked defiantly, practically looking down his nose at his son, clearly not getting the hint from what he had said about who your husband was.

“Because I am her husband,” Connor said definitely, standing next to your side as you relaxed, feeling instantly better in his presence. Cornelius balked a little, he really had had no idea who you were this entire time. It took him a second to regain his composure but when he did, instead of opting for the apology you’d expect from any normal person, he did the exact opposite, actually defending his slimy actions.

“How was I supposed to know that?” He huffed like he wasn’t invited to your wedding, when he’d made the decision to not come of his own accord. Connor put a protective hand on the small of your back, aware you were drawing a bit of attention as April had paused her typing on the computer.

“Well, dad, maybe if you’d come to our wedding, or our anniversary, or any of my birthdays, you would have known that Y/N’s been my wife for the past three and a half years,” Connor’s voice wasn’t raised but you could tell he was getting more and more aggitated by this encounter. He wouldn’t have liked anyone making a move on his wife, let alone his own father.

Cornelius had the nerve to chuckle at that, “honestly I’m just surprised a boy like you could wrangle a woman like this,” he said as you clenched your jaw, so many parts of that sentence rubbing you the wrong was. You could tell Connor felt the same, his stance very defensive as you replied.

"What is that supposed to mean?” You demanded before Connor could speak, Cornelius’ eyes snapping to you like he’d forgotten you were an actual person and not just an object to fight over. “What about me and Connor is so surprising to you?”

“Honestly, you could do better.” he said matter-of-factly and you rolled your eyes, any appearance of a professional facade gone as you faced your father-in-law.

Now it was Connor’s turn to laugh, but it was a dry laugh as he said: “and what, you think your ‘better’?” Cornelius shrugged, the look on his face telling you that that was in fact what he meant. Connor shook his head in disbelief, the first time he was seeing his father in a long time and all of his reservations and fears were being entirely justified as he stood before the two of you.

It was time to end this, you decided, folding your arms and squaring up to Cornelius. “Better? The man who’d rather save money than a man’s life, who thinks it’s appropriate to not only hit on a woman while she’s at work, but to blatantly tell her to... cheat on her husband when she tries to politely tell you she’s not interested. Connor’s a good man, a much much better man than you, inspite of the fact that your raised him, and he doesn’t owe you another second of his time, neither of us do.” You took a breath as both Rhodes men blinked at you in shock. “Now, Mr Rhodes if you’ll excuse us we actually have jobs to be doing, I’d be happy to have somebody escort you to where you can wait,” you finished, seeing April grin out the corner of you eye as Cornelius got a little flustered, clearly not used to anyone, especially women you reckoned, putting him in his place.

“I’m had enough of trying to reach out to you, I felt like I still had something to prove to you, like it was on me to mend what was broken between us. But you’re not worth it dad, you’re just not worth it. We’re done here, stay away from me, and definitely stay away from my wife,” Connor told his father, gesturing with his head for security to come show him to the waiting room.

“Oh this is far from over,” Cornelius raised his voice, pointing his finger at his son as security reached you. But Connor didn’t waiver, clear for the first time as he just looked at his father, shaking his head before turning to walk away. Everything that needed to be said had been said, and he was finally ready to walk away from his father, quite literally in this case as you went to follow your husband.

This wound would never go away entirely, but now, maybe, you really could move forward.

#connor rhodes #chicago med #one chicago #connor rhodes imagine #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagines #chicago med imagine #chicago med imagines #connor rhodes one shot #chicago med one shot #one chicago imagine #one chicago imagines #one chicago one shot #one shot

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ka-za-ri · 4 years

Text

Descent Pt. 1

I told myself I was gonna take a break. I lied. I wanted to write a whole bin of Sin for Simeon. I’m sorry, not sorry at all. Let me know if you want to be a part of the tag list: Chapter Masterlist: Here Crossposted on Ao3: here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10]

Paring: Simeon x Reader Wordcount: 4,900 ish Genre: Smut Tags: Masturbation, Voyeurism, hints of dirty talk? Summary: Sent from the Celestial realm to observe and study humans; Simeon made a name for himself as the illustrious author of The Tales of the Seven Lords. After reaching acclaim for his first series, he's having trouble writing his next great hit. Good thing you're there for him as his manager and editor to help him work out the... kinks in writing.

Trip

The most dangerous aspect of humans was their innate ability to tempt even the most stalwart and steadfast of angels into a world of sin. Simeon was not immune to their ways, no matter how reclusive he became. It was easy to study them from afar, learning about them through numbers and sales numbers. The masses were easy to sway with a few pretty words. Blending in with humans was a trivial task for him. All he had to do was make a few public appearances for book signings and some launch parties for a new series; otherwise he was free to observe and study from afar.

After the international success of The Tale of The Seven Lords, Simeon found himself feeling rather empty. He needed a new project to keep him entertained in the human realm. However, no matter what he started to work on, it didn’t inspire the same sort of passion he had for his older series. He needed a new genre, a new style of writing to refresh his passion for words. If he was going to make it in an ever changing market, he would need to adapt as well. Yet, no matter what genre he tried, every draft he came up with seemed too mundane and overdone.

Everything except, for the temptation of writing something much more salacious than his last work.

Just entertaining the thought had him on a slippery slope of falling from the grace of the Celestial realm. Sure, the strict protocols of olde had been loosened over the centuries. Many angels realized that enforcing perfect adherence to the standards of purity set so long ago no longer applied to modern times. Rules had been loosened and enforcement had relaxed to the point where Simeon was almost positive if he wrote an absolutely obscene novel, he didn’t risk losing his Celestial powers.

The only problem was that he had no experience in the genre at all. He threw together a vague plot and outline, thinking it would be all he needed to inspire him. Surprisingly enough, the publishing house allowed for the drastic change in genre, confident that he would be able to create another best seller. Just having that much trust put in him made him want to succeed even more with the haphazard novel idea.

But, despite his determination to make his new manuscripts lewd, he was at a complete loss as to what, and how to write them properly. The outline he presented to you seemed excellent on paper. Even if it had a few plot holes, you knew he could patch them up with a little work. So, it was natural that you would push the approval and leave him to his own devices to work on the manuscript. You were sure that an author of his caliber would be able to break into a new branch of the literary market without any issues.

But, after several months of waiting, you had no contact at all from him regarding the progress of his new book. The industry needed proof of his work in order to justify their investment in him. Being so renowned, the pressure was on him to create something magnificent. You could only imagine the kind of stress he was going through and as his manager and editor, you were responsible for making sure he met deadlines. You hated to rush his process, but there was no way he could meet the dates set by the publisher if he didn’t give you something to work with soon.

After trying to reach out to him several times by phone and email with little to no response, the only option left was to go to his abode and see just what he was hiding from. No other outline he submitted had passed so this was his one and only chance to continue his writing career. You patiently waited after knocking on his door, hoping he would answer and wasn’t going to ignore you any further. You knew how serious writer’s block could be; but you hoped he wouldn’t let that get in the way of being a professional.

Luckily, the door opened soon enough and you were ushered in by an extremely tired and frazzled looking Simeon. He lead you to his office after you had taken off your shoes and changed into the guest slippers he offered. Simeon didn’t speak to you during the whole exchange, a shell of the soft spoken and attentive author you had come to know after so many years of working with him. He shuffled into his office, an obvious slouch in his posture and slumped behind his desk before gesturing at the empty chair across from him.

“I’m guessing you know why I’m here.” You said and he sighed in resignation, burrowing his head in his hands and running them through his hair. You felt terrible adding stress onto him, he looked ragged, like he hadn’t slept in days. The bags under his eyes were so dark, they almost looked like deep bruises.

“Yes… You want a manuscript…” his normally soft voice sounded hoarse and you wondered if he had eaten or drunken anything at all that day. “I’m almost done with the first draft… would you like to come and see?” He turned his laptop towards you and you started reading what he had so far.

All seemed well and good at first. The characters were believable and the premise, though a bit cheesy, was definitely acceptable for the genre. The further you read, the more you noticed large gaps in his writing. Whole paragraphs seemed to be missing and sentences ended midway. Dialog was left unfinished and by the time you reached the end of the first chapter, it was a mess. You could already feel the inevitable headache you were going to get from editing for him.

“Uhm…”

“Yeah, I know. It’s not my best work.”

He tried to smile, but the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. You reached out to him and held his hand, rubbing your thumb in reassuring circles on his palm. “You’ve worked hard on it, still. What’s got you so hung up though?”

He got a little flustered at your question, nervously running his hand through his hair and looking to the side. Writing such a topic with no experience in it was proving to be difficult for him. He could research all he wanted and consume all the media he could to aid him, but there was just something missing. His lack of knowledge was showing and he wasn’t sure how he could keep being composed about his failure so far. He gestured at the screen and shrugged, trying to get his message across without using words; but, when he saw your confused expression, he had to speak. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” he finally admitted. “I want to write this so badly, but I don’t know how to… describe the scenes the way I want to.”

You sat back in the chair, crossing your arms over your chest and nodding. You could only imagine the difficulty he was having in producing the quality content you were sure he was used to coming up with. With deadlines looming above your head, you needed at least a chapter to submit to the publishing house so they knew actual work was being done. You sighed, trying to think of ways to jump start his creativity. The gloomy atmosphere of his office didn’t seem help. The lights were dim and the curtains were all drawn. It didn’t feel like a place that could invoke the imagery he was going for. “Let’s move somewhere.” you suggested finally. “Do you have a room with lots of sunlight? Maybe a change of mood will help.”

“Ah… there’s the sunroom..” he said. “But I don’t know if just changing where I am writing will help the situation. If it hasn’t gotten done here, I doubt it will anywhere else.”

“Just try it.” you encouraged, already unplugging his laptop and taking it with you. “It’s so gloomy in here, even I’m getting depressed just sitting around. Come on, which way is it?”

“Ah… this way.” He said, shamefully shuffling out from behind his desk and showing you the way to the sunroom which overlooked a rather well manicured garden with a variety of flowers in full bloom. You marveled at the bright, airy feel of the room and took a second to really appreciate his choice in decor.

“Wow, would have never pegged you as the kind of guy who gardens.” You teased, flopping onto the couch he had in there and lounged in its plush confines. Looking through the glass ceiling, you watched a few clouds drift by while Simeon got comfortable in a recliner in the corner of the room. You could tell he was still a bit frustrated, but you knew getting him some sun would do him good.

“Well, when I don’t have any pressing deadlines, being with the plants helps relieve stress. It’s unfortunate that I cannot give you a tour this time.”

“There’s plenty of opportunities in the future. They’re not going anywhere, and neither am I. You know I’m going to keep hounding you until your manuscript is finished.”

He chuckled, nodding and opening up his laptop. You let silence pass between the two of you, going back to watching the clouds while the sound of his fingers flying across the keyboard lulled you into a daydream like state. You grabbed onto one of the large, decorative pillows he had on the couch, clutching it against your chest while you made up stories in your head about the clouds above. If you weren’t so stressed about turning something into the publishing house so soon; it would have been a perfect, calming afternoon.

The clack of the keyboard stopped after a little bit. Whatever inspiration Simeon had when he entered the room seemed to have fizzled out and he was stuck in yet another rut, writing one word and deleting it over and over again. You sighed, turning to watch him as he gnawed on his thumb, mumbling to himself.

“What’s not working?” You asked, your curiosity piqued.

“Just… this scene… it’s not working. I can’t envision it.” He grumbled. Looking up at where you were laying on his couch, clutching onto the pillow, he was suddenly struck by a brilliant plan. The worry lines on his forehead disappeared and he broke out into a slight smile when he realized how he could get his creative juices flowing. “Help me… I need inspiration.”

You sat up straight, ready to assist in any way you could. “Okay, what do you want me to do?” You asked.

Simeon squinted, in the right light, you looked similar to the main character he had written. His plan could work if you reenacted the scene he had in mind. The issue was actually explaining the scene to you in a way that didn’t make his body feel overheated. He was already playing with fire by writing such a lewd book, pushing his limits further felt like he was sliding right down a slope heading towards a great fall. There was no other way, he reasoned. As long as I do not defile her, it’ll be fine. Taking a deep breath, he got up from where he was and walked over to you.

“I need you to…. Uhm… Well.. how do I say this… I’m having trouble writing a love making scene and I need some… visual aids.” You blinked, processing his request and then looked him up and down, feeling your whole body heat up at once. You were sure you had kept your crush on him a secret. To have him ask you so suddenly to provide visual aid for an explicit novel felt like too big of a jump for you to comprehend. “Oh… Oh no, no, no. You don’t have to do anything with me.” He said, gesturing wildly when he saw you pointedly stare at his crotch. “You can just pretend that this is the ‘lover.’” He took the pillow from your arms and laid it on the couch.

You didn’t know if you should have felt relived or disappointed that he wanted you to reenact a sex scene with a pillow and not him. It was all quite a bit to take in, but the desperate pout on his face was something you couldn’t ignore. And both your jobs were on the line. You sighed in resignation. “Okay, okay… But only because we have deadlines coming up.” You said. “You’re lucky you’re cute. I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.”

Simeon smiled for the first time that day, hurriedly moving back to his computer and preparing to take notes on what you were doing. “I’m ready when you are.” he announced once he opened up a separate document.

“You sure you don’t want me to just, you know… do you?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow as you started to undress. It was embarrassing for sure; but part of you relished in seeing Simeon so flustered when it came to the nature of lewd things. You wondered why he had bothered submitting such an outline at all when he wasn’t familiar with how to write erotica; but his determination to branch out to other genres had won you over in the end. It just fell upon your shoulders to show this man how it was done.

“I… No… I can’t. I need to write.” He stuttered. Do not defile her, do not defile her. Her womb is sacred and not something you can toy with… Even if he wanted the first hand experience, he still had rules to abide by.

“Alright, whatever you say. You’re the boss.” You shrugged, unbuttoning your blouse. “Don’t forget, part of the sexiness is in the tease.” You explained, taking your time to sway your hips side to side as each button came undone. Trying to seduce a pillow was so much more boring than trying to seduce Simeon. The things I do for this job…

You made sure to waggle your ass as you peeled off your pants, tossing them to the side along with your blouse. There was something thrilling about being in a room made of glass. Any woodland creature that decided to come visit his garden at that moment would also get an eyeful of your progressively bare body. The rush of having Simeon watch you as you stripped had your heart racing.

At the very least, you knew your efforts weren’t in vain. You could hear the furious clacking of the keyboard as you gave the pillow in front of you a sultry look. As lame as it all was, it was still rather arousing to know you were being watched by the man who you had crushed on for so long now. “Alright… sir. I’m going to need you to lay down. You have a problem that only I can take care of.” You said to the pillow. You tried hard not to laugh at how ridiculous the scenario was. It wouldn’t do to break the mood, especially when you could tell Simeon was definitely getting some writing done.

You got back onto the couch, straddling the pillow between your legs once you were in nothing but your underthings. Licking your lips, you pretended that Simeon was under you and not the decorative cushion. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel his lean body under your own, squirming in discomfort as you took control of the scenario. There was just something about how gentle and soft spoken he was that made your heart flutter with the need to dominate him until he was a flushed, moaning mess.

Using that fantasy in your mind, you slowly started to gyrate your hips onto the pillow, throwing your head back and moaning. “Oh yes…” You breathed, pleasantly surprised at the stimulation you got from the friction of your panties rubbing against your spread core. You hummed, content with the thought of Simeon holding onto your hips to keep your steady. If he wanted to watch, then you were going to give him the best show available.

You grasped at your breasts, teasing your nipples through the fabric of your bra until they were sensitive little buds that made you gasp. As you continued to grind against the pillow, you could feel your essence starting to flow, no doubt you were going to leave quite a substantial wet mark on the pillow if you continued. You wanted to pause and warn Simeon of what was about to happen; but when you turned and saw the look of concentration on his face, you didn’t dare break his focus.

He’ll just have to deal with it later… You figured going back to that happy place in your mind where the writer in front of you was actually under you. Closing your eyes, you imagined what it would be like to hear him moan as you pressed your heat against his cock. Surely he must sound absolutely angelic when he cums. Pushing slipping your hands under your bra, you pushed the fabric away, peeled it off your skin and threw it into a random corner to pick up later. “You have no idea how hot you look right now.” You purred, looking down at the cushions below you, wishing you had something sexier to talk dirty to; but you would have to make do with what you had.

Leaning down, you grabbed a pillow to act as your ‘lovers’ head and started to kiss it. It was so hard to ignore just how disappointing it was to make out with a lump of fabric and not the beautiful man in the corner who was so engrossed with his writing, you might as well have been invisible to him. You could only use your imagination to fantasize about how soft Simeon’s lips must be. He always took such good care of his skin and he had an ethereal glow about him, as if he was blessed by the sun itself. You moaned into the pillow, hating the rough canvas you were pressed up against, but at least your pussy was getting something out of how much you were humping the pillow.

You came up, gasping for air after having half smothered yourself with a pillow and glanced over at Simeon again. Even as he was furiously typing, you could see that he was at least a little affected by the show you were putting on. Good, I would have hated myself if he’s not even a smidgen turned on by this. You smirked, looking down at your ‘lover’ and pretended to whisper sweet nothings to them before getting off the couch.

Simeon made a small sound of protest when he saw that you were no longer straddling the pillow, but he quickly shut up when he saw that you were divesting yourself of your panties. “Oh… carry on.” He mumbled, going back to his document, though his eyes continuously flicked up towards you to make sure he was capturing the moment properly.

Feeling your bare pussy rub against the rough fabric of the pillow sent shivers of pleasure up and down your body and you moaned, riding it harder than before. The stimulation was great, but it wasn’t enough. Really, you wanted to have Simeon buried balls deep in you and not at his computer. However, your priority was your job and that meant sticking to what you had to work with. “Fuck…” You groaned, clenching your inner walls around nothing and wishing that you had at least a toy to fill you up and give you something to ride.

You ground against the pillow, your essence soaking the fabric and leaving a sizable wet mark, but you didn’t care. It was all the stimulation you could get and you were going to work it for all it was worth. One hand went back up to your breast, rolling your pert nipple between your thumb and forefinger, whining at the mixture of pain and pleasure you were giving yourself. “Yeah… you like watching me touch myself, babe?” You asked no one in particular; but truthfully, you hoped Simeon was really enjoying what he saw and heard..

His fingers on the keyboard never ceased moving as he vividly described the scene before him. He was so wrapped up in his work, he didn’t even notice himself getting hard. There was too much to write and no time to think about the attention the rest of his body was asking for. He licked his lips, his gaze constantly going back and forth from the document to your body. You were acting out the scene so well, he couldn’t stop writing; he needed to record every detail. You were everything he had imagined his main character to be; effortlessly confident, commanding in the bedroom and dripping with sex appeal. Even if it was a spur of the moment suggestion, he had no regrets considering he was getting so much more writing done in the last half hour than he had in the past two months.

Your breathing came out in short little pants as you tried to chase a release that just wouldn’t come with so little to work with. You reached between your legs to fondle your sensitive clit, groaning loudly as you made love to yourself. You didn’t know how long the scene was supposed to be, but your thighs were getting tired of riding an inanimate object and you just wanted to get off now.

“Mm fuck.. You feel so good…” You breathed, closing your eyes and imagining Simeon sliding inside of you. The first pass must feel so good. You fantasized about lowering yourself onto his cock slowly letting him savor every inch that entered you. In your head, his bright blue eyes glittered in lust, watching his dick disappear into you until your hips met and he would moan at the feeling of being completely buried in you. “Yeah… just like that…” You moaned, rubbing circles at your clit while your inner walls clenched rhythmically at air.

You went back to dragging your pussy across the fabric of the pillow smearing your essence all over to get as much out of the scenario as you could. Your fingers rubbed your clit harder, pushing you ever closer and closer to release. “Oh… Oh… I’m so close…” You whined, announcing your climax mere seconds before it happened. The last push you needed was looking over at Simeon and seeing him completely engrossed in what you were doing. His fingers frozen on the keyboard and his comfortable pants with a rather impressive tent in them.

“Fuck. Simeon.” you cursed, cumming all over the pillow. Your fingers slowed their pace around your clit, rubbing your labia back and forth as you rode out the orgasm. You fell forward onto the pillows beneath you, still slowly humping them while you let the initial high pass and the afterglow set in. It wasn’t until the haze of pleasure passed that you realized you had called his name while getting off on his couch in front of him.

Simeon swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way you called his name. Everything had gone smoothly until you had cried out for him while in the throes of your climax. He had stopped everything he was doing just mere moments before you did that; and now, he didn’t know if he had the mental capacity to continue with what he was writing.

For once, he was tempted to throw away whatever celestial blessings he had to take you and be the real reason why you screamed his name.

Shoving the indecent thoughts to the back of his head, he turned back to his document, writing a sentence and erasing it, repeating the action over and over again while his brain looped the beautiful image of you as you came on his couch. Now, he noticed the tightness in his pants, the obvious boner he sported as a result of such an experiment. But, he couldn’t be mad at it. He had achieved a groove in writing and he was sure he could finish the draft you needed in time.

Simeon let you rest a bit and gather yourself together on the couch. No doubt both of you were aware of the slip, but he could pretend it didn’t affect him as much as it did. Eventually, you had the courage to look back up at him, only to find him busily typing away at his computer. Sighing, and running your hand through your hair amused that he could stay so calm, you got up and started to get dressed. “So, I’m guessing moving somewhere else worked?” you asked, keeping your tone light.

“Hmm… yes.” He agreed, half paying attention to what you were doing. He couldn’t bear to look at you while you were exposed and waited patiently until you were fully clothed until he made eye contact and spoke to you again. “I definitely got some good notes in. I’ll just need a little more time to flesh out some of the filler scenes and I’ll email you the draft in a couple of days.”

You let out a laugh, surprised that he was able to focus on work still after what he had just witnessed. He truly was as innocent as he presented himself to be sometimes. “Alright, well. I’ll look forward to reading it.”

“Will you be back?” he asked, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “You were so helpful, I think I might need more help for the rest of the book.” Not, like I want to see something like that again… No, I just need it for research purposes…

“You know I’ll be back.” You laughed heartily, ruffling his hair. “I have to bother you at least once a month to make sure you’re on schedule to finish.”

Simeon slouched into his chair and let out a soft laugh in relief. “Of course, how could I forget.” In his mind, he was already planning new scenarios for you to play out. There would be much more research to be done, and supplies to be obtained before your next visit. But, all those things could wait. For now, he closed his laptop, noticing how low on battery it had gotten.Time had slipped by him, the sun already well on its way past the horizon. “It’s getting late…” He commented, trying to change the subject to something a little safer than the masturbation session you just had in front of him.

“Yeah… I’ll get going and let you work in peace.” In a moment of bold recklessness, you stepped forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “See you next time, babe. Can’t wait to see what you’re gonna make me do for you.” you teased, giving him a coy wink before showing yourself out.

As soon as the door was firmly shut, Simeon let out a deep sigh, laughing out loud at the predicament he had put himself into. He wanted to quit everything and dissolve into the ground. He wanted to continue writing and see your body writhe in pleasure. He wanted to also defile you and sate himself inside of you. Most of all though, there was a growing darkness within him, one he didn’t even notice just yet; and that part of him craved to see you put in your place to beg for him like the god he knew he was.

Pushing all his desires down and curbing his lust for the time being, he moved his computer back to his office and let it charge for the rest of the evening. His mind still swirled with the image of your exposed body riding that pillow in the sunroom. The early evening sunset made your body glow with an almost angelic light; and for once, he felt jealous of an inanimate object.

Quietly padding back into the sunroom, he looked at the soiled cushion; feeling a surge of heat rush through him when he saw the wet spot you had left behind. Licking his lips, he approached it like it was a wild animal, tentatively poking at it. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend to still feel your warmth lingering on the fabric. He could feel shame rising up in him as he laid down on the couch, rested his head on the pillow and took a deep breath, memorizing the scent of your arousal.

His hand reached down between his legs, slipping past his pants and to his hard length that needed his attention. Turning his head to smother his moans and to surround himself with your unique smell, he teased and pleased himself, putting himself in the scenario you had played out just mere moments ago.

“Oh… oh fuck…” He groaned surprised at how little effort it took to make him cum and ruin his pants to the thought of you bouncing on his cock and calling his name. He was quickly falling down the deep end of temptation and he could feel the darkness of sin encroaching.

The scariest part was the fact that he didn’t care at all.

#Obey me #obey me smut #Simeon x Reader #Obey me fanfiction #Obey Me!#I just want to give this angel all the love and sex he deserves #11 planned chapters so far #Please enjoy the sin #my writing #obey me simeon

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narrators-journal · 3 years

Text

I’ll send a post card

Content warning: I forgot to put this in the last part, but this part includes phone sex and blueballing

Previous: here

Beginning: here

As if to punish Ango for that night in the bathroom at work, Taneada strolled over to his desk a few days later to talk to him about some paperwork he wasn't clear enough on, which instantly set off alarms in the brunette's head. Then, he dropped the facade of nonchalant work chatter and finally confirmed the brunette's worst fear. "Listen, I know you're already trying to catch up after your 'break', but I need you to do a certain job for me." It may have been blatant that he wasn't the most thrilled with this news, because his boss pat his shoulder reassuringly, "Not to worry, it's a small job. I just need you to fact check an item that's said to have heavy ties to a certain rat." Taneada's smile was friendly, but Ango could tell he really didn't get a choice. So, instead of arguing, he just agreed and noted down his departure time the next day. After that, he seemed to go into his usual auto-pilot, not really zoning back into reality until he was on the plane, his head resting on a neck pillow with his glasses in one hand and his other massaging the bridge of his nose where his glasses usually sat. It gave him a bit of much needed relief in such a familiarly stressful situation. He hated it, but at least he could nap on the plane, so that was a plus, however, he also couldn't call you on the plane, so there was a downside. In fact, he couldn't call you for most of the day when he finally landed a while later in the bitter chill of Russia. He would've called or messaged you when he got to his hotel room, but he didn't get a moment to. Instead, he was only allowed to put his bags in the room and fish out a thick winter coat and gloves before he was back out in the weather, heading off to the towns government branch building to inform his contact that he'd arrived and to fill out the appropriate paperwork to permit him use of his power. He was thankful that at least the building had heat, so he wasn't stuck becoming a popsicle while the polar-bears-for-natives snickered, but he never enjoyed the paperwork for temporary power usage. Of course, Ango never complained. Russia simply had a much stricter grip on the citizen's powers, they had to fill out forms informing the government of their abilities, how they worked, and so on, and weren't allowed to use their abilities without the paperwork Ango was now sat at a desk filling out, so for work, school, medical reasons, whatever situation called for a power. It was kind of like America's gun laws, but much stricter, something the government official appreciated as much as resented for it's thorough nature and how useful it could be when it came to keeping track of people. Of course, the brunette wasn't exempt from this rule, since he would be required to use Discourse on Decadence for his work he spent a good chunk of the remaining day filling out the appropriate paperwork for a temporary permit. Once he was done with that though, he was sent back to his hotel. The sun had already gone down by the time he was back in his room, but he decided to risk the fucked up time zones to talk to you. He missed your humor, voice, and playful demeanor. What could he say? He'd grown fond of having someone to call and at least inform that he was okay. "Hello?" You chirped through the line, your voice making the man smile a bit, "Uh, hi, I was just wanting to call and tell you that I'm off on a job, so I'll be gone a few days, but I'm fine." He assured, working on making a cup of coffee while he held his phone with his shoulder and talked to you. "Oh! That's where you went," you hummed, "Well, where are you in the world?" "I can't tell you, it's kind of classified, but just know that I am alive and well, and I will eventually be home." He could hear your hum turn into a grumpy huff, making him smile a bit, "I'd tell you my location if I could," He promised, and that seemed to sate your curiosity for a bit. After that, Ango just sat on his hotel bed, sipping his coffee, fishing his laptop out of his bag to work as he spoke with you until you went to bed for the night. After that, Ango sent his first daily progress report back to headquarters and tried to go through some of the relaxing and destressing techniques his therapist had taught him. He also looked into hobbies for himself, something simple and portable to deal with his anxiety towards not being productive 24/7, then, he too went to bed for the night. The next few days were full of work for Ango, made only slightly better by the rituals his therapist had encouraged him to do, but the true bright side of his day was the few times he could text or call you, even if he fell asleep during your conversations. Nevertheless, he found he enjoyed having someone to talk to, someone to fall asleep on the phone with. He had never actually had that. "Are you going to fall asleep on the call again?" You asked with a snort while Ango walked into his hotel room after another long day of pushing his power to the limits and taking in all of the information he could from the artifact Taneada suspected was tied to the agency's biggest threat at the moment. "Well, would you prefer I have a healthy sleep schedule, or return to my old habits of staying up for three days straight and then eventually crashing?" He asked, taking his glasses off for the night and stretching out on the hotel bed, "Damn, when did you stay up for three days straight?" "It was actually a pretty common occurrence not too long ago. I've told you how I'm a workaholic, right?" He heard your little noise of agreement, "well, before my break, I would take that to the extreme. I would regularly stay up for two or more days straight to work, scrambling to meet impossible deadlines and just file reports or whatnot." he sighed as he explained it, remembering all of the times Taneada would stack more paperwork on him just as he finished the last pile, pushing him to stay up and finish it so that none of it was filed late. It was a miracle he never screwed up on the filing. "That doesn't sound healthy, I'd prefer you not do that again." you said, pulling him back to reality, "I just want to talk to you and not have you pass out just before I initiate something." He could hear the pout in your voice, and he already knew what you had been wanting to initiate. "Well, go ahead and initiate your idea now, that way I can't fall asleep before you get the chance." He offered, and he could almost hear your smirk. For a moment, you chatted nonchalantly, flirting and slowly escalated the conversation while he slowly turned redder, but flirted back. It was pretty relaxing to just flirt and lay on the hotel bed with nothing but the closet light illuminating the small room for a while, it also didn't hurt that your dirty talk was easily stirring up filthy images and scenarios in his head. The image of you grinding against his groin like you promised to, having you kissing his neck, the fantasy alone brought his blood directly to his member, but your coy hum while you described everything you wanted to do when he got back just threw gasoline on the fire. Almost mindlessly, his hand slid to the growing tent in his pants, palming himself while you described just how badly you wanted him. In return, he slipped in his own ideas on what would happen when he returned from his trip. He was a bit clunky at first, from a mixture of building pleasure and just plain inexperience, but he got the hang of it pretty quickly and tried not to linger on his mistakes, it'd ruin the high he was trying so hard to maintain. Thankfully, you seemed a little too preoccupied to heckle him about his awkward attempts, too busy assumedly playing with yourself like he was, which he could tell from the way you moaned or got breathy when you spoke. It was a sign he was sure you could hear in his own voice whenever he talked about what he'd do in response to your ideas, but he didn't care. So long as he had the mental image of your (s/c) body against his, with the thought of your moans being heard in person and not through a phone, he couldn't seem to focus on much of anything else, let alone how shameful he may have sounded. "Are you close?~" You breathed, just as Ango was beginning to slip his hand down his pants to properly stroke his aching member, getting a hum of agreement in response. He expected you to say something dirty, maybe ask if he was thinking of cumming inside of you, but instead of any further dirty talk, he heard you let out a little breath and say "Great, I'm gonna go to bed now~" before hanging up abruptly. For a moment, he just laid there, listening to the silence before his hormone-addled brain caught up to what happened. "Oh, you are so fucking dead." He growled, yanking his hand from his pants and going to get some toilet paper to wipe it clean before messaging you. Ango: Excuse me?? (y/n): Lol, you're excused🙂 Ango: Why'd you hang up? (y/n): To blueball you, of course, lolol. That way you're good and riled up when you get home~ Ango: I am not neglecting myself that long. (y/n): Well than, you've got some photos, but until you get back, you don't get to hear me orgasm❤️ For a while longer, he tried to convince you to get back on a call with him, but you were annoyingly stubborn. He was going to need to wait if he wanted any further assistance from you.

#Ango Sakaguchi #bsd #bungo stray dogs #Ango x reader #Long distance #x reader #not sfw #fanfiction #quotev

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yuta-nakamots · 4 years

Text

Candle Light - l.hc ; Part 2 of 2 (End)

Pairing - College!Haechan x Ghost!Reader

Genre - Fluff but mostly angst at the end

Warnings - Character death, supernatural activity (you are literally a ghost)

Summary - As the resident ghost that haunts your old apartment, you take pride in scaring away those who dare move in, not wanting them to ruin your memories. Though your mission changes after a group of boys arrive. These are the four boys you allow into your space and your heart. One of them is the candle that supports you, and you are the fire that burns atop it, his beacon of light.

Word Count - 6.2k

A/N - as always, credit goes to @soleilhyuck for coming up with the idea for this fic. thank you for patiently waiting and giving lots of love to this series and please look forward to frat boy!yuta next month as well <3

Tag List - @sunflowerhae @eunsangelical @soleilhyuck @neoyoungho @carefreebubble @sly-merlin @jisungismymom @jimelonji @lyraaacle @peachy-yabbay @yomanitsgonnabehee

January 2020

News about the new virus was quickly spreading, as was the disease itself, unironically. You sat next to Renjun as he watched the news on TV and played a game on his phone while Jeno was lying on the floor in front of the coffee table as he typed out an essay on his laptop.

You watched as the newscaster stood in front of a graph showing the number of cases spiking up as he said “all local colleges will be migrating to an online schooling system for the second half of this year” to which Jeno let out a loud groan at.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do all my labs then?” he muttered under his breath, angrily hitting the carpeted floor. You laughed at his childish action, Jeno’s head whipping around as he looked in your general direction with his pupils shaking as he tried to find a face to match the voice he had just heard.

“Hey y/n, I think Jeno can hear you,” Renjun said nonchalantly as he continued watching the news station on TV, “okay, Jeno wait I think you should pay attention to the screen.”

He informed the other boy just in time as the anchor said “certain schools have disclosed that some students may still be required to return to campus for activities such as labs or other assessment events.”

Jeno rolled onto his back, letting out another groan that was almost actually a growl. “I don’t know which is worse. Having to go to school during a pandemic, or having to learn from my computer 24/7.”

February 2020

As more plans for the second semester were announced, Jeno did end up having to still visit the campus for his labs so he was occasionally out along with Jaemin who was volunteering at a hospital nearby, the same one your body was taken to after the incident, not that you’d ever tell them that though.

Jaemin had convinced Renjun to come along saying “we need extra help and it’s not like you’re doing anything anyways now that class is online” as he quite literally dragged Renjun out the front door.

This left you with Haechan, who was only able to see you in certain instances because he was still not totally sure if you really existed or not. He still used the scented candles in his room, much to your distaste, since you found yourself having to put out the flame nearly every night due to his forgetfulness.

He’d spend almost every waking moment on his computer playing Overwatch and whatever other games he was into, only stopping when we had to attend his mandatory online lectures. Even then, he’d still have the game up on his screen, barely even caring about the lecture.

Eventually, this irritated you enough, having been quite a good student yourself, to the point where you just lost it when you saw him pull up his school account and you peered over his shoulder and realizing how bad his grades really were.

“You shouldn’t do that, you know.” You spoke to him, hovering behind him as you read through the contents of his student profile.

Haechan froze for a second, surprised by your voice though he didn’t make an effort to turn around. “Well, you shouldn’t just scare people like that.” He retorted at you.

“Then don’t take your college life for granted,” you remark, not missing the high amount of absences he had even though all his courses were online, “I would’ve loved to have completed mine, but that just didn’t seem to be in my life plan now, was it?” You asked rhetorically, your voice laced with sarcasm to match his.

“What are you gonna do about it, huh?” He spat out at you. “You can’t force me to study.”

You rolled your eyes at him even if he couldn’t see you as you scoffed, “yes I can.” Quite literally, you moved through his desk and unplugged his computer from its power socket. A satisfactory grin fell upon your face as you heard his monitor die out and you look at him. His mouth was slightly agape as he finally saw you up close, your previously translucent figure becoming clearer and clearer to him with every second that passed.

From then on, Haechan consciously made an effort to cut back on his gaming and dedicate more time to his schoolwork, as he hated not knowing when you’d decide to pop into his room again and he didn’t want to risk more damage to his precious computer.

Sometimes he’d spend so much time studying that he’d even fall asleep at his desk, to which you could only sigh at as you fanned out the flames of his stupid scented candles that he continued to use before grabbing his blanket from his bed and placing it atop his shoulders.

March 2020

You found that you actually quite enjoyed spending time with Haechan as he was more entertaining and witty than Renjun. Though on a particularly slow afternoon, you watched Haechan as he went about making a sandwich in the kitchen, making yourself known to him by a light tug on his shirt before he asked “so why exactly do you haunt this apartment?”

You were leaning against the kitchen island behind him, not even having bothered to materialize in your semi-human form since you let him pick and choose when he wanted to see you or not. “If I’m being honest, I really don’t know. All I’m sure about is that this unit is my unit. It always has been and it always will be.”

“Well, what are your ties to this place? What does it mean to you?” He pressed on as he grabbed a slice of bologna from the refrigerator.

After pausing for a second as you recall your past, you told him “this is where I grew up, my parents moved here when I started elementary school and I’ve lived here for almost twenty years until I died and ever since then, I’ve just been here.”

“I’m sorry,” he interjected, looking at you and making eye contact to let you know he was being sincere, “I really am. You had so much to live for, your whole life ahead of you.” He shook his head in pity as he unwrapped a piece of cheese.

“Things don’t always go according to your plan, as you can see,” you stated before continuing on with your story, “anyways, my family moved out shortly after my incident because my sister would always cry whenever she had to pass the spot I was last alive at and eventually my parents couldn’t take it anymore so they just up and left.”

Haechan was unscrewing the lid of the jar of mayonnaise when he asked “why didn’t you stop them? Or did you try but they just weren’t able to see you?”

“They couldn’t see or hear me. I tried calling out to them, telling them I was still here, I was still alive, but nothing worked...and so they left me behind.” Your voice trailing off at the end as you felt a familiar pain in your chest at the memory of your family.

Haechan hummed in acknowledgment, spreading pieces of lettuce over the top of his sandwich, going silent before speaking again. “I think you need closure. Do you know where your family went to? I’m pretty sure we could--”

“No, I’d rather not talk to them.” You interrupted, not wanting to witness your family in pain again after having to watch them mourn your death in this very apartment. To them, you were a thing of the past and you wished to stay that way.

“You can’t just be cursed to wander around this unit for the rest of your life, or lack thereof. That’s a bit…” he paused as he wracked his brain for a word, turning up blank, “sad, for lack of a better word.”

You watched as he placed a slice of bread on top and pressed it down before biting into his creation. “It’s not like it was my choice in the first place, you know,” you strongly articulated, “if you really wanted to help me then you’d leave this place and let me wander in peace now that you know my story.”

“We both know damn well that you’re not gonna be happy if we leave you on your own.” And the most surprising part of his statement was that he was right.

April 2020

After your previous conversation with Haechan, the two of you started avoiding each other and you ended up spending more time with Jeno when he eventually came around to being able to see you. He was more of an easygoing presence and he didn’t mind it when you stayed in his room, he just asked that you “don’t mess with my stuff like when you stacked all my books up and turned my clothes inside out” the memory of it still makes you laugh to yourself.

You felt bad for Jeno, seeing him come home already exhausted from his labs and lectures, letting out a loud sigh whenever he entered through the front door as he was finally able to take off his face mask and allow himself to take a deep breath of air.

You’d often find him dozing off at his desk, his face resting either on his arm or on whatever page he had been going over. Sometimes, if you knew the assignment was important or if the deadline was near, you’d try to keep him awake by doing this like clicking his book or dropping a book on the floor. But if he was really knocked out, all you could do was just plug in his electronics to let them charge before bookmarking his page and clearing his desk for him.

On the night of his 20th birthday, the boys decided to have their own mini-party, which you excused yourself from. You didn’t want to get in the way of their celebration since you didn’t know for sure where you stood with Haechan and that’s on top of the fact that Jaemin still didn’t believe in your existence.

You stayed in Jeno’s room, softly plucking at the strings of his guitar which he had kindly left out for you. He had previously voiced his worries about you getting bored from always staying in the unit, which you found quite cute of him.

He came back to his room around midnight and you watched as he drunkenly made his way to the bathroom, stumbling in and nearly tripping over his own feet. You heard him throwing up into the toilet but you stayed put, knowing that you wouldn’t be of much help anyway. You recognized the sound of Haechan’s voice as he entered from his own side and tried to clean Jeno up.

Moments later, Haechan came into the room carrying a near unconscious Jeno to the bed you were currently sitting on. All Haechan had to do was merely glance at you before you were already materializing in human form to put Jeno’s guitar back on its stand and help Haechan get the birthday boy into bed.

Once Jeno was tucked in and snoring, you looked up at Haechan and he nodded his head in the direction of his room, inviting you to come over with him, which you did without much hesitation. You sat on the edge of his bed as he started up his computer as he asked you “don’t you ever get tired of just staying in the apartment all the time?”

You watched as he typed in his login information as you responded, “kind of, I guess. It’s all I know so it’s not like I really have anywhere else to go.”

“Have you ever tried leaving the building, or this unit at all?” He inquired while pulling up a page on google.

You thought for a moment before answering him. “No, I’ve never really wanted to leave because I’m comfortable here.”

Haechan simply nodded and stated “fair enough” as he switched tabs before turning to you. “I found this article the other day and I think this is relevant to you.” He informed, beckoning you over to him. You moved closer and read it from over his shoulder.

Certain spirits roam the earth as ghosts due to their souls holding onto the regret they had while they were still living. It is common for these types of ghosts to stay in a place that they have special emotional ties to. They often try to scare away people who enter their sacred place as they are trying to preserve it as it is in their memory, resisting change. There have been successful cases of exorcism for these types of ghosts, though oftentimes, it serves to only anger them further, which is why exorcism is not recommended. Edit: It has been found that the spirits often pass on to the true afterlife once they let go of the regrets they are holding and free themselves from the baggage that is tying them to their sacred place.

“Haechan, I already told you, I’m not leaving.”

“But think about it, you can’t just continue existing with one foot in the afterlife, one foot in the during-life,” causing you to laugh at his wording, “aren’t there other dead people you’d like to meet? You know, like Michael Jackson or something?”

“Of course, but how would you know if there really is an afterlife where I could meet them?”

“I don’t, but aren’t you getting tired of just watching people come and go? Aren’t you curious about the existence of an afterlife? You’ve been here for what, two years?”

“Three years.” You corrected, though he was correct about your boredom and curiosity even if it really was just in the slightest form.

You weren’t looking forward to when the boys moved out as it meant you’d be left on your own again. You had grown used to the four of them since you had at least one of them home at nearly all times. You didn’t want them to leave and you had even though about asking them to stay, but you knew it would be unfair to them as they had previously talked about their future educational plans.

Renjun already was in the process of transferring to a school or arts to further hone his skills as he was nearing the completion of his traditional core credits. Jeno wanted to study abroad and experience different cultures while Jaemin simply would follow along, having promised both of their parents that he would look out for Jeno and make sure he didn’t overwork himself though oftentimes it was the other way around.

As finals came around again, you witnessed the boys and their ways of dealing with the stress of their exams. Renjun simply painted aggressively while Jeno started stretching and working out more often and Jaemin, who still wasn’t able to hear or see you, resorted to cooking. You couldn’t believe Haechan broke out those godforsaken candles yet again, even after you had voiced your hatred for them, having to put out their flames and clean up the dripping wax as to not cause a fire hazard.

One day, Jaemin was finally able to see a faint outline of your silhouette when you managed to catch the knife he had accidentally pushed off the counter while preparing dinner for the guys. He really didn’t believe them when they spoke of your existence, he simply thought it was some kind of odd prank they were all in on, but when he saw his knife floating mere centimeters above his foot, he realized they weren’t lying at all.

Ever since then, you’ve enjoyed hanging around with all four of the boys. They each introduced you to their hobbies and did their best at including you in as many activities as possible. Renjun was overjoyed when he saw you lift a brush from his case and when you asked if you could join him. He was painting a simple sunset and was more than happy to have your company. Renju let you paint any way you wished, only helping here and there to blend in your strokes and fix some of the color gradients.

After it dried, you stood back as he hung the canvas up in the living room with a broad smile on his face. He turned around and you watched as his expression morphed into one of confusion when he didn’t see you behind him and he called out your name. You felt a sense of anxiety creep up on you, reminiscent of the feeling of when your own family were not about to see you.

You knew Renjun had it easiest when it came to seeing and hearing you so why was he having a hard time now? “Oh, there you are.” He said, when you came into his view again, seemingly lightheartedly but it was hard for both of you to feel at ease after what just occurred.

It happened again when you were with Jeno as he was teaching you how to play a few chords on his guitar, something you had always wanted to do in your active lifetime. The two of you had been going at it for about an hour now and things were going pretty smoothly aside from Jeno having to help press the strings down when your own fingers weren’t enough.

You were able to learn a few simple chords separately but right before you were able to string them all together, the guitar suddenly fell through your hold into Jeno’s hands that were helping you apply pressure to the strings. He let out a noise of surprise as he too could no longer see your form.

He blinked rapidly, thinking it was his own eyes playing tricks on him until you saw him relax as both of you witnessed your own body flicker back into existence. This time, there was definitely no denying what just happened.

Later that night you went to Haechan and told him both accounts of what was going on and you broke down in tears, telling him how you didn’t want to leave them just yet. He rubbed your back as you clung on to his shirt, your tears would’ve been soaking it if you weren’t a ghost.

As much as you wanted to stay in his embrace, he told you that he had to study for an upcoming final so you instead settled for lying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling as you let your mind wander through all the what-ifs going through your head.

You’re not sure how much time passed before Haechan finally climbed into his bed, throwing an arm over your waist. No sooner than before he lifted his head to speak to you, his arm dropped through your body and fell onto his bed. The shock was evident on his face as he watched you fade out from his view.

Haechan frantically reached out, trying to grasp onto something, anything to tell him that you were still there as he called out your name. You did the same to him, but your cries fell on deaf ears until one of your hands managed to grab ahold of his and he found your eyes, the fear in his mirroring your own.

You laid with Haechan as he slept that night, scared that you’d cease to exist if he weren’t by your side to validate your presence every so often.

May 2, 2020

One night, as all of you were in the living room watching a show on Netflix, as per Renjun’s recommendation, you mentioned these repeated occurrences to them causing a thick silence to fall over everyone as they processed what this possibly meant for you.

Again, you sought out Haechan’s comfort that night and stayed by his side as he slept because being with him made you feel the slightest bit more real, even when his arm dropped from your waist again.

Now that finals week was over, the boys were home more often, though Jaemin still continued to work and volunteer at the hospital with Renjun, leaving you with Jeno and Haechan. Not much changed as you still continued to stick to Haechan like glue.

May 14, 2020

About two weeks after you had first brought up the topic of your frequency disappearances, you were lying next to Haechan in his bed as you both watched videos on his phone. He abruptly turned it off and turned to face you. “Have you ever been in a relationship before?”

You shook your head, “no, I was always too bust for one.”

“Did you want to be in one? Do you want to be in one?” You froze as you looked at him, not sure if he meant what you’re thinking he means. “On a scale from one to ten, how mad would you be right now if I told you I might have feelings for you?”

You thought for a moment before responding. “Depends on if you’re being serious or not.”

“I’m dead serious. Okay, maybe not dead, but you know what I mean.” He said, poking fun at his word choice.

“Do you really like me?” You asked, unsure if you were thinking clearly.

“Yes,” he paused, “but only if you like me back.”

“Is this just a spur of the moment thing or have you actually had feelings for me before this?” You could feel your cheeks heating up and you were suddenly grateful that he couldn’t see you as if you were a normal human.

“For a while now.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders as if it were nothing.

Your eyes grew wide in shock. “I...Haechan, as much as I’m flattered, we both know it’s not going to work out,” your voice getting caught in your throat, “you’re human, you’re still alive. There’s someone out there for you--”

“Okay and?”

“There’s someone who you can hold, someone you can kiss and make love to, someone you can have a family with--”

“And what if that someone is you?” He interrupted again. “What if you’re the someone I want to hold, to kiss, to spend time with?”

“Haechan...I don’t know…” Your voice coming out as more of a whisper.

His eyes searched yours as he spoke. “Just let me kiss you...please.”

You let out a small “okay” as your eyes fluttered shut and you felt his lips meet yours. He showed you the warmth you didn’t know you could even feel as you allowed yourself to melt into his kiss. Had it not been for your body disintegrating again and causing Haechan to fall forward, you probably would’ve stayed kissing him until he was begging for air.

“I guess that’s the universe telling me to give you a break for a bit.” He chuckled while he grabbed his phone and unpaused the video he was playing earlier as he waited for you to appear again. You didn’t have to look at him to know there was a smile plastered on his face as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his chest the very second you could.

If you were considered to be clingy with Haechan, now you were practically inseparable.

May 17, 2020

It was a rare occurrence for all four of them to be home together during the day so Jaemin took it as an opportunity to gather everyone for lunch. He didn’t even knock as he opened the door to Haechan’s room, sticking his head in to say “lunch is ready. I made kimchi stew. Oh, hey y/n, haven’t seen you in a while.”

You whined in embarrassment due to the fact that you were currently seated in Haechan’s lap as he practically held you like a baby, cooing at you and littering kisses across your face.

Once Jaemin was gone, Haechan pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. You know that?” He said, ruffling your hair out of affection.

May 19, 2020

You watch with great interest as Haechan lugs a box into his bedroom and cuts it open, revealing an electronic keyboard. He had told you previously that he wanted to get back into playing piano, having played it when he was younger. You didn’t think he was actually serious enough about it to buy a whole keyboard which, from the looks of it, seemed pretty expensive.

You sat in his gaming chair as you watched him assemble the stand, handing him scissors when he asked and holding things in place when his own two hands weren’t enough. You didn’t trust yourself to do much else in case you randomly disappeared again. Your lips curved upwards as he plugged the keyboard into the socket on the wall and played a few chords, his own smile matching yours.

May 20, 2020

Sighing, you floating your way into Haechan’s room as you notice his sleeping figure hunched over his desk, a little string of drool landing on the lined paper he was writing on. Given that school was already over, you figured it was song lyrics that he was writing.

Haechan, along with getting back into playing piano, had also picked up song composition and lyric writing as well though he refused to show you any of the lyrics he wrote and claimed he’d be embarrassed if you saw them to which you rolled your eyes at. Haechan? Embarrassed? Now that was a rarity given that he was one of the most confident people you’ve ever met, not even bothering to cover himself up the few times you accidentally came in while he was changing his clothes.

But as confident as he was, he had yet to channel that into his lyric writing as he kept falling asleep after hours of trying to get them perfect. You fan out the candle he had been using and run your finger across his lip, gathering his drool, in order to prevent his from further wetting his paper.

You tried to slowly pull the paper out from under his head, doing your best to not wake him up, though your efforts were in vain as his eyes shot open the second you tugged a little too hard. It took Haechan only a second or two to figure out what you were doing before he snatched the paper from you while whining “I told you not to read them” as he puts it in a folder filled with other papers which you assume are also lyrics.

“I was only moving it so you wouldn’t drool on it like a baby.” You scoffed at him.

Haechan imitated your scoff back at you, “don’t lie,” he quipped, “I know you were going to read it as soon as you got your hands on it.”

“You know, you better quit it or else you’re sleeping alone tonight.” You threatened, knowing that your boyfriend of sorts has gotten used to your presence in his bed while he slept.

“No!” He exclaimed, his eyes growing wide in panic before he dove for his bed and gave you puppy eyes, begging you not to leave him.

May 25, 2020

At this point, your disappearances had become more frequent and lasted for longer durations, leaving the boys constantly guessing as to where you were. You could barely muster up the force to show yourself in your human form and physically move objects so you were glad when you realized they could all see you in your regular blue-tinted ghost state.

You considered yourself lucky when they told you they could still feel the gusts of wind you created while moving around, even when you became invisible. It may look stupid to you when you were rapidly moving your arms back in forth to let them know where you are, but it’s not like you cared when you knew they couldn’t see you anyways.

On this day, you were watching a show on TV with Renjun, though he could only vaguely sense your presence. When you heard the sink in the kitchen turn on, you left your seat and floated through the wall to see if it was Jaemin cooking again. Much to your surprise, it was Haechan who was actually doing the dishes for once.

You moved around behind him, alerting him of your presence. “Hey babe, came to do the dishes with me?” You rolled your eyes and rapidly fanned his neck, something you knew he hated because he was ticklish in that area. “Okay, okay, I get it.” He giggled while scrunching his neck.

“Is y/n with you in the kitchen?” Renjun called out from the living room. Haechan shouted back a short ‘yes’ to which you heard Renjun respond back with a slight laugh in his voice, “I thought she was still with me so I was talking about the show but I guess I was just talking to myself this whole time.”

May 29, 2020

No matter how much energy you concentrated, you just couldn’t seem to show yourself in your human form at all. You weren’t completely invisible to the boys yet, just fading in and out of your normal ghost forme every so often, though if you really tried hard enough, you could force yourself to become visible again, even if it were only for a few seconds. You saved your energy for more important moments like when Haechan shot up from his place next to you in bed, sweating from the nightmare he was having.

For the past half hour or so, you watched him as he writhed in his sleep and you felt your heart wrench knowing there was nothing you could do to rouse him from his sleep, unable to do your normal actions of slamming windows or dropping books so you felt a sense of relief when he jolted awake and looked over to where he knew you’d be, his eyes searching for the outline of your body to give him some comfort.

You forced yourself to show up, glowing faintly in the darkened room as Haechan was able to catch your silhouette before it disappeared again. His eyes bore straight into yours, even if you knew that to him, he was simply staring at a wall so you didn’t move, not wanting to leave his gaze as he spoke to you.

“Y/n, I hope you know that every moment I spend with you is precious to you. Whether I can see you or not, I know when you’re with me.” He confessed, his eyes starting to tear up. “I can only hope that I am making your last moments precious for you as well.”

You hoped so desperately to have enough strength to show yourself again to let him know that you heard him and felt the same way, but you were unable to. Your own wet eyes mirrored his as you reached out a hand to cup his face, a tear slipping out of your eyes as you watch your hand merely fall through his cheek.

June 2, 2020

You’ve come to terms with the fact that your time on earth is running out when you can only seem to manage to materialize once or twice a day, lasting for only about a second each time. You were upset that you didn’t get to say a true goodbye to the other three boys, wanting to thank them for taking such good care of you. Maybe you just so hoped that this regret would keep you with them longer, if only for a few more days.

June 4, 2020

When Haechan returns to his room after eating breakfast with the rest of the guys, you watch as he sits down in front of his keyboard before turning around to face his bed, where he’s guessing you were as he spoke. “Y/n, I wrote this song for you. I don’t know how much longer I have left with you so I rushed the ending of it, but I wanted to show you now before it’s too late.”

With that, he turned back around and began playing a melody you had heard from him before though it was different this time around now that he was singing the lyrics he wrote for you.

Like Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Moments with you are always special. I’m thankful for all the days we spend together, At times like this I get shy, but it means I love you. When I see you brightly smiling and dazzling, My wish of us being together forever seems like it’ll come true. I know the future isn’t clear and the past might be sad, But don’t worry anymore. Just keep adding days like this. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, I only have plans filled with you, I think it’s perfect. In my heart, my dreams were possible through you, I want to fulfill them all with you. I’m not alone, I’m with you, When I needed someone, you came to me. Even in the ordinary, I celebrate your preciousness, Please always stay by my side.

I want to give you gift-like days, you and me, me and you baby. Without leaving behind a single day, it’s only us. Like candlelight that never goes out, My wish of us being together forever seems like it’ll come true.

June 5, 2020

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you’ve practically given up trying to make your whereabouts known to the boys, though they continued to speak to you as they estimated your location and if you were even present in the same room or not.

You wanted to tell Haechan how much you loved the song he wrote, but you were unable to. You wanted to do something for his birthday but you barely had enough strength to walk yourself from the balcony back into his room.

For the first time within the last four years of your existence, you felt tired. You had forgotten this feeling, what it was like to be tired and suddenly you remembered when all you wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

It was late already, the digital clock on Haechan’s desk reading 11:48pm as he stepped out from the bathroom, freshly showered. You eyed him, wanting to get up and kiss him all over, to give him the same love he gave to you, and you felt so helpless when you knew you wouldn’t be able to.

He lay down in his bed with his hair still slightly wet. “Can you believe it’s already been a whole year since we first moved in?” He turned his head, guessing at where your face was but returning his gaze to the ceiling to not make you feel bad before continuing on. “I never would’ve believed in ghosts if I hadn’t met you but now I’m always gonna think all ghosts are as sweet as you and that’s not good,” he said as he let out a laugh at the end, “I’m going to get myself killed if I try talking to a ghost that isn’t as kind and loving as you.”

Haechan went silent for a bit before continuing on. “But you would never let that happen right? You’ll be my angel watching down on me from above,” he paused as a sly smile appeared on his face, “or you’ll be my little demon waiting for me in hell.” He snicked to himself at his joke. “Ah, you’re probably trying to hit me right now. Don’t worry, I’ll do it myself.” And with that, he slapped his own cheek before telling you “I really love you and I hope you know that.”

June 6, 2020

As soon as the clock’s display changed to 12:00am, Haechan’s door burst open, revealing the other three boys with party hats atop their heads as they carried in a small cake with two candles on it, showing his new age of twenty. They began singing happy birthday and you even sang along with them, clapping your hands to the beat, even if they couldn’t hear you.

“Make a wish!” Renjun exclaimed once the song was over.

Haechan clasped his hands together as he closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Y/n, I know you’re still here. Before you go, please do this one last time for me.” He reopened his eyes and looked over at where he assumed you were and gestured towards the cake. You felt your heart swell with love as you took a final glance at him before using all your remaining energy to blow out the candle.

When the flame of the candle went out, so did your view of the world. Everything faded to black as your fire was extinguished, letting you rest in peace as Haechan’s candlelight.

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hold-my-hand-kuroo · 4 years

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tendou as my favorite naruto!! openings-

it’s midnight where i am right now, so a big hbd to one of my favorite nerds!! here’s something quick and dumb that i did while i’m still functioning,,,this is what he would’ve wanted, i’m sure of it.

also before someone @’s me, i have more than four favorite naruto openings, but i just don’t have the time to write them all- (i am a “lovers” supremacist though).

pairing: tendou satori x reader

i. “We’ve pretended to forget the things we held dear, so we can just laugh and say it’s nothing.”

Tendou can’t say that quitting volleyball after high school was a bad idea. No longer does he have to ache throughout his legs and arms, and no longer does he have to practice inside a stuffy gym until the sun was gone. He can finally rest on the weekends or take time to work on assignments before midnight. It’s liberating and less stressful on his part. Plus, even if he slightly missed volleyball from time to time, he could just watch one of Ushijima’s games during his now-open weekends. For sure, Tendou can’t say that he regrets leaving the sport.

But he also can’t say that he doesn’t miss his paradise.

His favorite spot at university is the secluded spot in the back, hidden away from most students. It’s where you find him during long breaks in between classes or during lunch, and it’s where you sit under the shade of a tall tree, watching Tendou as he bounces the volleyball back and forth against the brick wall. The sound is soft, gentle, and steady, and it helps you concentrate on your work. Sometimes, after the long, grueling hours of an all-nighter, you find the noise to be lulling, almost hypnotic. It wasn’t hard for you to nod off.

Today is no exception. Procrastinating and leaving your final papers to the night before wasn’t your best idea, and after what seemed to be the strangest period of limbo, drifting between dozing off and waking up, you found yourself finally submitting and missing your entire night’s worth of sleep. You take your lunch break as an opportunity to finally get some rest, and when you round the corner, Tendou’s already there. He’s humming a tune, fingers pressing against the white ball. Hearing your footsteps, he turns and gives you a wide smile. Even then, he doesn’t stop tossing the ball.

“You look terrible,” he comments, stifling his laughter. You groan, settling against the wood of the tree but make no effort to respond. Tendou changes his song, picking a melody that is more calming while continuing to play. The gentle breeze sets you into a deep slumber with the redhead acting as your lullaby.

When you wake up, you find yourself leaning against his shoulder. Your eyes flutter open and then close almost immediately at the sudden intrusion of sunlight. Tendou chuckles from beside you, placing his hand over your closed lids and whistling to himself. Feeling around for his other hand, you trace your fingertips over his own, lingering touches dancing on his skin. You can tell that he’s in a good mood based on the song he’s humming. It was either that or the kiss he places on your cheek after letting you open your eyes.

“Satori?” you murmur, voice still tinged with drowsiness. He pauses his singing, signaling you to finish your thought. “Why aren’t you in the volleyball club?”

“Babe, are you getting sick of me? Or do you just hate me?” he laughs. “I’d run out of time to breathe, let alone see you on the regular.”

“You don’t miss it?”

“Are you really asking me if I miss being bruised all over and struggling to meet deadlines?” He laughs again and pokes your face with a teasing glint in his eye. “Y/N, I’m hurt!”

“You seem to like it a lot considering that you’re literally playing on your own every day.” You put extra emphasis on the last two words and give him a knowing look. Tendou just shakes his head.

“Nah. I only played in high school because joining a club was required. I don’t really care about it now.” His response is simple, less wordy than his usual elaborations, so you let the topic rest. Closing your eyes again, you take part in the humming. The melodies, completely different, clash like day and night, and it makes both of you laugh.

Tendou watches as you fall back to sleep, eyes filled with fondness. In truth, maybe Tendou misses his volleyball club a little bit. His paradise. Not the sport itself per se, but the people around him. It was hard finding classmates that didn’t find him utterly repulsive, so he wasn’t surprised that he fit well into a team that was filled with nothing but the most eccentric people he has ever met. Ushijima and his love affair with volleyball and Semi with his drive to risk it all were standouts, but he supposes that there were others too. Yeah, he misses them more than he’d like to admit, and he misses spending all his waking hours with them. Just a little.

“You stopped humming.” It’s more of a comment on your part rather a complaint, but you can tell by his jolt that you had unintentionally snapped him out of his deep thoughts. “There’s nothing wrong with missing high school, you know?”

“No, it’s okay.” He lies through his teeth, and you’re aware, but you decide to stay quiet.

ii. “I will never let go of your hand. Tell me what is on your mind.”

Tendou works hard because he knows he’s not enough. Because he feels undeserving.

When you waltzed into his life, he hardly had any time to prepare. It’s the first time someone has ever liked him back, and he’s still surprised to this day. Tendou’s not sure which qualities exactly that have caught your interest, but he’s almost 100% sure that your taste is terrible. There isn’t a day that goes by where he doesn’t think that the person holding your hand on the street could be someone so much more attractive, so much more appealing. Someone who didn’t make kids hide whenever they saw him or someone who could embrace you and say with full confidence that you deserved each other. You don’t need someone that constantly makes you worry. You definitely don’t need a guy like him.

He knows your entire schedule and pays special attention to your free periods so that he can visit you. His head is now space for him to keep notes on every little thing about you from your pet peeves to your favorite snacks. It’s counterintuitive for sure, thinking that he’s not worth your time but also desperately trying to keep a hold of you. It’s paradoxical, he knows, but he’s stuck in a limbo of wishing you the very best while also craving your touch and affection at any moment given in time. It’s selfish, and he finds himself wondering if the title of ‘Monster’ is fitting after all.

“Are you sure you’re okay like this?” he asks nervously one Saturday with you sitting by his side. You look at him curiously, setting your book down.

“What do you mean?” His eyes become shifty, looking away.

“I mean, aren’t you bored just reading manga at my house?” he asks, chuckling nervously. “We could go to that restaurant you wanted to go to instead-“

“We’re always doing the things I want though, Satori,” you whine. “That’s why today’s date is something you like. You’ve been wanting to catch up with this series for a while now, right?”

“Yeah, but-,” he tries to protest, frowning, but you just shake your head, silencing him. You don’t know much about the series, but you whenever you see Tendou’s eyes glitter at something particularly cool that his favorite characters did, your heart becomes warm. It’s incredibly endearing, and you definitely want to spend all day just watching him pursue his interests instead of fussing over you. You want to know more about his hobbies, his likes, and dislikes, but he’s oddly reserved about those topics.

“Which character is your favorite?” You ask in hopes of having Tendou open up and maybe give you a passionate rant, a sight you’ve been wanting to see for a while now. Nudging at his lanky arm, you crawl under, placing yourself in his lap. He immediately sets the volume down and pulls you into a tight embrace, balancing his chin on top of your head. You’re not upset about it, but you’re just a little disappointed. You were hoping that he’d keep reading.

“Do you know any of the characters?” he responds teasingly. You shake your head and pick up the book. “I can start from the beginning if you want-“

“No, no, no! Keep reading.” You’re urging him to continue, practically holding the pages over your head so that he can see them. Tendou laughs, shifts his chin to your shoulder, and complies, taking hold of the book once again. You’re not sure if he’s actually paying attention to the storyline since he keeps peppering you with kisses every few pages or so, but this is a good start. “What’s going on?”

“Curious, are we?” He clears his throat and points to one of the characters. “You see this guy over here? He’s the villain. My favorite, since you asked.”

“Is he…your type?”

“You’re my type,” Tendou coos, stifling another fit of laughter. He continues describing the plot, however, going through what has developed since volume one, each pivotal character, his favorite moments, and unbelievably deep analysis on symbols and events. He’s usually a chatty person, but you’ve never seen him rave over something so personal to who he is as a person. It wasn’t like when he would talk endlessly about something funny that happened or something he saw. Rather, his glow and animated gestures, his sense of comfort, and his lack of restraint keep you mesmerized, and it’s then that you realize that Tendou rarely talks about his hobbies in front of you. You wish he would.

“This is nice,” you murmur, returning a kiss onto his cheek. He immediately stiffens, and you’re a little bit startled. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry for rambling,” he says rather on edge. He quickly closes the manga, arms returning to wrap around your body. “It was boring listening to me just talk about-“

“I thought it was cute though.” You sigh and turn around to face him. Pressing your nose to his, your lips are just barely a few millimeters apart from his. “I could listen to you talk about this all day, Satori.”

Tendou’s not sure if it’s the kiss that you press on his lips that intoxicates him or if it’s the fact that you smell like his shampoo, but for a moment, he feels himself wondering if it’d be okay to let you in onto his hobbies, his likes, his dislikes, and everything that he tries so hard to keep from you in fear of driving you away. Just for a second, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it’d be fine for him to open up.

iii. “You cried just now like a sobbing child. Even if the future becomes invisible, I will protect you.”

An angel. That’s what Tendou thinks you are when you let him rest his head on your chest and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer into your comforting warmth. He’s calmed by the gentle rise and fall of your breathing and the soft beating of your heart. The way your fingers rake through his hair, the way your humming fills the emptiness, you’re his safe haven, his sanctuary. His new paradise. He likes how you just seem to know what’s wrong, because he hates to complain, especially to you. He would much rather prefer making you laugh with a funny joke or story, but for now, he lets you play with his hair and caress his back.

You’re humming the song that he often sings for you when you’re feeling down. While you’re not exactly the perfect vocalist, straining at some high parts, you wonder if it helps Tendou at all, even if minimally. He cries quietly, and you wonder if it’s because he’s spent years being sad alone. The thought pains your heart, so instead, you take his palm and place it against your lips, quietly whispering praise. Things about him being more than enough and things that you wonder if he’d laugh at, you pour your sincerity into it all. You know he’ll tell you when he’s ready, so you find a way to pass the time.

“Let’s take a bath, Satori,” you mumble into his hair, waiting to see if he’s willing to get off of you. His movement is slow, reluctant, but you do feel him nodding, getting off of you with his head hung low. He doesn’t mean to be so down, so annoying, and he doesn’t hold it against you if you get irritated. But you don’t, and he feels like he’s the luckiest man in the world. “I’ll wash your hair for you. Come on.”

He holds your hand all the way to the bathroom, refusing to lose contact from the warmth of your skin. Even when the two of you are getting undressed, he’s quickly back to leaning into you in the tub. It’s a little bit difficult since his limbs are so long and lanky, but with a bit of curling up on Tendou’s part, you make enough space for yourself. He practically sinks into your fingers rubbing through his scalp, and you see his shoulders begin to lose their tension. You hum, satisfied, and work the soap around his body, helping him wash up. The smile that spreads across your face when he starts humming back is wide. You feel a little bit dumb, but you’re just so relieved that Tendou’s energy is finally back. The giggles that spill from your lips as he splashes about practically pour out from your pretty lips that Tendou wants to kiss so, so badly, but he decides to wait for a more comfortable position.

He hates to admit it, but he loves the feeling of being pampered. Granted, he was always more of a giver, but he supposes that being on the receiving side of things isn’t as bad as he initially thought, especially when you take the towel to rub against his hair and sit him down on the couch with hairdryer in hand.

“My hair is gonna get all puffy if you use that,” is the first complete sentence that leaves his mouth after returning home that night. He lacks his usual energy, but you don’t blame him. Rather, his soft chuckle sends your own spirits flying. “I’ll look ridiculous.”

“Really?” you muse, plugging in the device despite his protests. “I think you’ll be cute, all fluffy and stuff.”

“Why don’t you get a pet or something instead then?”

“Wouldn’t you get jealous if I paid too much attention to a cat over you?”

He pretends to think hard, then nods his head rapidly. You giggle again, maneuvering the hairdryer around his head. The machine is a little loud, but you can hear Tendou back to his usual humming, moving his body around ever so slightly just to make your task a lot harder than it was supposed to be. You watch as he swings left and then right with a certain mischievousness about him, twiddling with his fingers and then casually flipping on the television to his favorite channel. You’re not sure if he actually likes the show that’s being broadcasted or just the BGM, as he never really watched it and would much rather prefer to listen to the audio only while doing something else.

“Babe, can this be our song,” he jokes before going back to sing the opening lyrics to the children’s show.

“Satori, I don’t even know this show,” you reply, trying to sound exasperated as possible. He knows you’re pretending though and raises a curious brow. Then, he breaks into a grin. “I don’t have a good feeling about this-“

“What do you want to watch then?” His question is abrupt, but his eyes glint impishly. You’d be nervous if you weren’t overjoyed at his newly regained energy. “You sound like you want to do something else.”

“You’ll catch a cold,” you try to scold, but he pays no head, grabbing the hairdryer out of your hand and shutting it off. He tugs at the chord gently, unplugging it all together, and reaches for your waist. He places you securely on your lap. You can only stammer short retorts that are muffled by the energetic kisses he places all over your face. He relishes in every giggle and every squeal that escapes your mouth. Even the ways your eyes crinkle when you’re smiling makes his heart go insane. Suddenly, he stops to rest his forehead against yours. Your gaze almost absorbs him completely, but he doesn’t have qualms about that part.

“What’s wrong, Satori?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

He takes a deep breath. “Do you…mind if I vent a little?”

“You know you never have to ask for permission about that, right?” You kiss him on each of his eyes, each a little bit puffy, and then on his cheek. “I’m all ears.”

iv. “So keep trying to break free to that blue, blue sky.”

It’s always a fun, albeit loud, time when Tendou invites his old Shiratorizawa friends over for his reunion parties. You don’t mind at all, of course, considering that you were the one who encouraged this gathering in the first place. To be honest, you’re a little bit curious about how he acts around his closest friends that he talks so much about. You even wonder if a man like Ushijima Wakatoshi, the one you only see on TV or in interviews, is actually as funny as Tendou makes him out to be. In other words, you expect your home to be loud, but what you didn’t expect was that it’d be loud over you.

“Guys, Y/N’s super-duper gorgeous, right?” he asks for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. He’s set on making Ushijima give in to the fact that you’re the most beautiful person in the entire universe, but you wonder how many times you have to witness the professional’s utter silence at the question before Tendou would give up. “Toshi, you should just give it up already and say it!”

“I haven’t seen every single person in this universe, so I can’t answer,” his friend answers, brushing him off. Shirabu snorts from Ushijima’s side.

“Boo,” Tendou whines, kissing your face. From the corner of your eye, you catching Goshiki gagging. “Can’t you be a little bit more excited over the love of my life?”

“We are excited.” Semi chuckles, whacking Tendou a few times on the back to which the red-head responds with feigned pain. “But we know you’ll start sulking if we go overboard with the compliments.”

“I do not sulk that easily!” Tendou huffs, chest puffed out, and slaps Semi back. He only laughs. “I can’t believe I’m being bullied by a guy with no sense of style at all!”

“I asked you about this jacket before I bought it, and you told me it was fine!”

“You shouldn’t have asked him at all.” Shirabu smirks from across the table, arms crossed. “I bet this smart ass thought it was Y/N texting him instead of you, Semi.”

“You didn’t have to do him like that,” Kawanishi mumbles from beside the former setter. Still, that doesn’t wipe away the smirks they’re both wearing, and Tendou can only chuckle sheepishly.

“Well, what am I supposed to when Y/N looks good in anything?” Tendou sighs. His exasperation and added theatrical flair make you giggle even though you’re slightly embarrassed that he’s showing off to everyone from his old team. “Semi Semi, if it was Y/N wearing that jacket, it’d look great. You? Not so much.”

“That’s the most roundabout way of insulting me.” Shirabu and Kawanishi snicker quietly, earning a glare from Semi that goes ignored. “I suddenly remember why all the underclassmen thought you were such a hassle, Tendou.”

You turn to him in fascination. It wasn’t a surprise to you that he liked to tease and poke fun of other people, but you never thought that he was a bully. You initially had imagined Tendou to be a well-respected senior based on his reputation as a middle-blocker. Never in a million years did you think that it was the exact opposite.

“Goshiki, is that true?” you turn to ask, and the younger man nods emphatically. He’s agreeing with Semi so much that his nods make his hair fly all over the place, earning a loud laugh from Tendou.

“Y/N, Tendou was the absolute worst,” Goshiki answers, setting down his drink so forcefully that it almost spills. “He’d always ignore us when we did something good, but then he’d compliment us for absolutely nothing. It messed me up so much that instead of expecting him to cheer for landing a really good serve, I waited for praise for turning off the lights or something. Tendou was awful.”

“That was probably you being dumb, but I do agree that Tendou was never quiet during practice.” Shirabu grimaces, but you’re not sure if it’s because he just remembered something particularly annoying or if it’s because he’s agreeing with Goshiki. “I never want to go back.”

“I remember one time, he thought it’d be funny to salt the water,” Kawanishi mutters and the entire table breaks into a loud groan. “Yeah, I think I have to agree with you guys. Tendou was a handful.”

From beside you, you hear Tendou tsking and catching him wagging a disapproving finger. “Guys, you can’t insult Y/N like that! I’m gonna beat you guys up if you keep going on.”

“Dude, we get it.” Semi punches him once on the arm and then another time for good measure. “You’re married. You’ve told us a million times.”

“There’s that and the fact that we were, you know, at the wedding,” Shirabu sighs.

“Congratulations.” Ushijima’s comment is a little out of place, especially since the ceremony was already a month ago, and he had been one of the first people that Tendou told, but you only smile and thank him again. “It was an honor to be the best man.”

“Toshi, you don’t have to be so formal, you know?” Tendou grins, resting his chin on his hand. From underneath the table, you feel his other hand reach for yours, running his digits over the silver band sitting on your ring finger. “But really, I’m just reminding you guys that Y/N and I are married. I wouldn’t be surprised if you forgot since you’re all always so busy.”

“Oh, what would I give to forget you?” Shirabu sighs, earning another chuckle from Kawanishi and even Semi.

You laugh at the playful banter between Tendou and his friends. You squeeze his hand gently, and even while he’s participating in a heated debate with Semi over the gray-haired man’s best album, your husband makes sure to return your squeeze. In full truth, Tendou’s still aware of every little thing that you do. It’s one of the many things that have stayed the same over the years. He still sings, and he still likes to mess up your hair, but most importantly, he makes it a point to keep remembering everything about you. Tendou’s aware that something in him has changed, so he reasons that maybe you had your little changes too. And he’d remember all of them.

“Hey, spill the tea, Y/N,” Semi jokes. “Doesn’t Tendou make for a terrible husband?”

“Yeah right,” Tendou scoffs. His grin doesn’t falter and only widens when you shake your head at Semi. “That’s absolutely correct! I’m the best husband ever."

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #satori tendou #tendou satori #tendou #tendou x reader #satori tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #shiratorizawa #happy birthday tendou!!#nerd!!#lol how do you write dialogue???

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selfmadesuperhero · 4 years

Text

i’m very much not okay

and i’ll probably take very long for me to explain why

i don’t know how to write this. i don’t know where to even start. i’m here because i just don’t have anywhere else to go. i can’t afford therapy. i no longer have any close friends other than Mabu (gf).

it’s getting pretty bad inside my head

i know most people’s lives are hell this year and i’m not special. i know that. to me, this year is feeling like the last nail in my coffin because 2019 had already chewed me up and spit me out.

i kept my last job for eight years. after my first year there, another developer came in, and we became friends. we worked side by side less than 4 feet apart for six years. our hours were flexible but we always agreed upon our schedule just so work would be more bearable, because we both hated it and often had to team up against our boss’ downright abuse. it was a very small company (at its biggest we were only 7 employees). we were also going to graduate at the same time from the same school (different majors), so we had a bit of a pact to leave our shitty boss once we’d graduated and start developing our own, way less shitty games.

at the start of 2019, he got an excellent job offer. i was thrilled for him and told him to of course get out of that hellhole we hated so much, we were only there because the pay was decent and the hours were flexible so we could get our degree, you know? it stung, but i was happy for him. on the last day i gave him a ride home (which is also something i did almost daily), he surprised me by hugging me and telling me i was like a brother to him and our plans weren’t going to change.

i believed him, and went back to work. he was soon replaced, obviously, by a junior developer because that’s how capitalism works. but suddenly, i no longer had someone to take a stand with me against my boss - there was no one left that i knew, everyone had resigned or been fired and i was the oldest employee. you’d think that’d earn me something, after eight years being dedicated to the same company, right?

(shortly after, my grandma passed, after years and years of agonizing in a wheelchair. we lived together)

fuck that

the first months were fine. i was being the senior developer and teaching the junior constantly, so my boss stayed out of my way. but see, this is where he started to get ansty. the more the junior stopped being a junior and was actually useful for something, the more that piece of gigantic ass just started thinking only about our salaries. i started in that company in 2012 making little more than 3 bucks/hour (remember i live in a third world country, but it was still specialized work), but by 2019, my salary was pretty much double of what the junior was making, and every penny extra i got during those years was a CONQUEST. i also worked six hours while he worked eight, so.

my boss basically started treating me even more like shit. he wasn’t nice to be around before, but he was bearable in small amounts. suddenly it was obvious to everyone that he was really fixating on me and my performance, and to me it was obvious he just wanted me to walk away too so he could replace me with TWO junior developers instead of just one measly charlie.

then, the nationals elections began. oh boy.

this probably wouldn’t read as news to anyone, but i’m a huge leftie, obviously. if you’re at all interested in politics, read about what socialist policies have done for uruguay during the past 15 years and how they turned us into AT LEAST a developing country, but i digress.

the people that sat in my office even shared my political views or whatever, but my boss is actually part of the conservative party and started actively campaigning. every time something involving politics happened, he made a point to come barging in the office and telling me and specifically me about it like i was personally running against his party. i actually recorded him once to have proof of him at least screaming at me, so i could check if i was crazy for thinking he had something against me. he frequently called me communist and just mocked my views. if you’re wondering, yes, this is illegal, but nothing happened.

then, two big things happened at once: we lost the election, and my recently adopted puppy was diagnosed with distemper. yes, it happened on the same that and it’s a day i’ll never forget.

my girlfriend and i had talked about getting a puppy once we moved in together. we’d named him like two years before it actually happened. we moved in together on may 2019 and on september i found the most precious boy for adoption on facebook and i was innocently all like “oh i’ve had to put rescue dogs for adoption before, let’s give back!”.

on october 27th, he had a seizure and the vet told us it was likely we’d have to put him down because only 20% of dogs survived, and it was even less for puppies.

when i went to work, i had to put up with my boss laughing and mocking me for winning the election “against me”. i guess i missed my running for anything?

this post is already too long for me to get into details about my dog’s disease. for months, every day we looked after him constantly. i read everything there was to BE READ about distemper online, spent thousands of pesos on medicine and treatments just in case he had a chance. good news is he did! this is the only positive note in this post.

it still wasn’t easy. he made us cry at least three times a day. we really thought he was dying, and we’d made the mistake of naming him 2 years before he was even born. we’d taken PERFECT care of him while he was unvaccinated, but the vet told us it was most likely he was already infected before he came home to us. i’d never seen such a small puppy so sick. he hallucinated constantly. if you don’t know, distemper is a neuro/digestive/skin/bone/HELL disease that’s really nasty. he’d have seizures almost daily and poop and pee himself. he stopped being able to control his body other than his two front legs, which he didn’t even have full control of. when he stopped being able to walk, he started crying constantly, it really tore the heart out of my chest

we called another vet, a dog physical therapist, so she’d tell us how we could help him. she told us to make him stand as long as possible, so every time he had a meal, i’d bend down with him and hold his hips - so he’d be able to stand, and slowly gain back some muscle mobility. every day we massaged his legs and flexed his joints, even his tiny toes, so he’d avoid atrophy. and we did it!! as i’m writing this, he’s one year old now, he’s no longer sick even if he’ll carry with him plenty of lifelong sequels, and he walks and runs and barks like the best of them ♥ i wasn’t going to plug anything but if you wanna see his progress, it’s on instagram @hamiltonthefighter

okay, i guess i ended up talking at length about his disease in the end, sorry. his walking again had a price to pay for me: my own back. for two or three months i was bent over this dog, you know? i still can’t get out of bed without help sometimes lol around december it got really bad but i just kept popping pills because joy oh joy, i was doing my thesis and i didn’t really have time or money for anything else. my job was basically paying for our rent, my university classes including the thesis course which was ridiculously expensive, and our dog had given me credit card debt out of desperation (we even had to buy those rubber things used for yoga to place on our floors so he’d have something to use his nails against instead of constantly slipping on the floor, we tried every medication that might help, we gave him CBD oils, all kinds of vitamins, constant vet visits where during the first two weeks he got like three different shots every day, etc)

i’m rambling, and i’m sorry, but i don’t really think anyone will read this. i started this post crying my eyes out and writing about my dog at least has been calming, because even if he’s a drooling mess now, he’s still the same he ever was and i love him very much and he’s sleeping soundly next to me and he’s finally close to fine.

remember the friend i talked about like half an hour ago? the one that worked with me for six years? nothing changed between us during the first months. for my thesis, i was going to develop a videogame with Mabu, but we were allowed to have external coding help because it was about GameDev, not the actual coding. i knew how to code, obviously, but Nico (the friend, guess we’ll give him a name) was also part of our project so he was gonna help us code so i had more time to focus on art and 3D modelling. the idea was kill two birds with one stone, make something we all liked, mabu and I were going to graduate with it and then we’d keep working on it during 2020 as we’d always always talked about.

by december, even if nico and i still talked regularly, i could tell he had just moved on with his life. he’d said he’d help us, but he was doing his own thesis, so i told him not to worry at that time, our final due date was in february. he asked us to forgive him during december and promised us he’d come back in january to DEVOTE himself to the project. i started coding the project besides working on the art and i was thankfully able to meet all the deadlines, so it was really fine, of course i understood where he was coming from.

then, on january 7th, Mabu’s grandma passed away. she was scheduled for a heart surgery that supposedly only had 1% risk, and she passed on the table because of a doctor’s mistake. the surgery was here in the capital, but Mabu’s family lives five hours away. she comes from a very big, very loving family, and her grandma (being the mother of five children) was very much the center of it. i also loved her. she’d replaced my grandma the second she passed and every time i saw her she hugged me like i was a lost grandson.

when my girlfriend called me during her surgery, i immediately left work because i just knew she would be crying if things were okay. this was a nightmare come alive for a family of 20+ people, and most of them were 5 hours away from their own house. my mother in law was (and still is) devastated by the lost of her mother because she was the one to encourage the surgery and she still thinks she killed her. i drove my her, my girlfriend, her sister and her sister’s boyfriend on my mother’s in law van for five hours while they all cried or slept and i had to really, really pinch myself because i was EXHAUSTED but what else could i do?

logically i missed work the next day. LOGICALLY. i had the service to attend and i was 5 hours away from the office and i didn’t even have my own car with me. i told my boss to discount the day, since i wasn’t entitled to the mourning day by law because it wasn’t my grandma. he didn’t even reply - he almost never talked to me by this point unless it was to berate me for something. i went back to work the day after the service.

now, remember we were doing our thesis and it was due in february? it really wasn’t great timing for anyone to die, but i was trusting Nico’s promise that he’d have more free time and he’d make up for not helping us code sooner. i told him the news about Mabu’s grandma, and then basically had to tell him to say something to her for her loss because he was supposed to be her friend, what the fuck, why aren’t you at least sending her a text.

let’s just say, january wasn’t a great month for Mabu and myself. two weeks after the passing, we still hadn’t had news from Nico. Mabu didn’t even have time to properly mourn because we had to turn our thesis in like, little over a month. i wrote to nico just downright ASKING if he was gonna be able to help us or WHAT, to which he said to me...

he’d never promised anything because he was really busy with his own stuff and he didn’t want to bring it up sooner because he knew Mabu was mourning and things were hard for us at the moment?

like that’s great pal, thanks for telling me at the last POSSIBLE second you were just dropping out altogether, what the actual fuck? it still baffles me that someone can be so thick headed, but he kept saying he had made no promises and both Mabu and I knew that was a lie and i honestly just couldn’t deal with someone so selfish he couldn’t at least give a heads up sooner

the icing on the cake during the beginning of this year is someone i haven’t even mentined: MY PIECE OF SHIT BROTHER. talking about him may deserve another post, because this is already so long and convoluted and i haven’t even talked about his involvement in my misery during 2019-2020. i’ll try to make the story short if anyone’s still reading this far:

a lot of years ago, our maternal grandmother moved to uruguay from russia and bought a tiny shitty house here next to my mother’s. my mother still hasn’t talked to me since 2013 because i’m trans, but that’s neither here nor there. i tried to keep in touch with my brother (we don’t share dads so he was no relation with my side of the family), and around 2017 i finally succeeded in making friends with him. or so i thought, clearly.

that grandmother passed... sometime. i don’t really know because they cut me off. she didn’t speak to me either, she was literally a crazy old nasty woman and i didn’t even care when i heard she’d died, to be honest. she was such a nasty woman, she’d put her tiny shitty house to my and my brother’s name just to keep her own daughter out of the inheritance when she bought it.

that also meant i was inheriting something for the first time ever, even if it was shitty. BUT my brother had his own fake grandma (the woman who looked after him his whole life instead of our mother) who was very old and frail and asked me if he could house her there. i said yes because again, i didn’t give a shit about the inheritance or the house or anything regarding my mother’s side of the family (other than him obviously), so for years this woman occupied the house. my brother basically took all existing furniture and appliances because he was moving in with a girlfriend and i even loaded up my shitty car with his stuff. all i wanted to inherit was the couch set, which had come all the way from russia and everyone had promised me since i was a wee lad, but he started whining about his fake-grandma not having a living room set and nowhere to sit and i didn’t even live by myself yet so i let them have the fucking couches, too.

oh boy this is already too long but now i’m too lazy to make a separate post

anyway, sometime during 2019, the woman moved out to an old folks home because she could no longer take care of herself. i immediately asked about the couch set with hope in my heart that it could finally be mine, but my brother told me our mother didn’t want me to have it.

he wanted to rent the house to make a profit, which sounded good to me because of that dog related credit card debt i talked about. and here’s where you might think i’m not that there in the head, but all my life i didn’t want anything to do with that house until my mother was in the ground - not out of hate but because i thought it was a shitty thing her own mother had done to her, and the inheritance should have been hers. she doesn’t have a degree or a stable job because she’s a russian translator so hey, whatever, they needed it more than i did. but then my brother starting getting ideas about improving the house so we’d make more money, and how we should do it together, and... i think i might have mentioned already why i didn’t exactly have time to redo a house? i was doing my thesis? about to graduate? my boss was constantly on my case? my dog was about to die?

i helped as much as i could at first, but then december came, and then january, and my brother just kept nagging me about the house like i was purposefuly sitting on my ass doing nothing, because oh every day it’s not rented it’s money lost. no amount of explaining how stretched thin i was seemed to suffice, not even when mabu’s grandma died and nico left us hanging with the thesis and i had less than a month left to code the whole project by myself while ALSO taking care of the art.

by the end of january, i was so stressed, i called a doctor after a panic attack. he gave me a weeks rest because of my back, because i wasn’t even able to get up without help at that time. it wasn’t much of a rest because i still used that time to sit at the computer and code 15 hours a day at LEAST, but hey.

it was the first time in 8 years i’d taken medical leave of ANY kind. i didn’t even get medical leave when i got my chest surgery. it happened on a friday and i was back to work the next monday. i’d never skipped more than 2 days of work at best when i had a bad case of the flu or something, but that was it.

when i went back to work, my boss immediatelly called me to his office. he started berating me about my performance again, bringing graphs comparing the amount of lines of code i’d written next to my coworkers. i didn’t mention this, but the graphic designer had also quit during 2019, so i was also covering that workload and no, that didn’t exactly translate to lines of code. i also had to spend HOURS every day tutoring the junior because he was too much of a cheap shit (didn’t use those words) to hire an experienced developer. i’d even WORKED AS A GRAPHIC DESIGNER FOR MEDIA CONTENT FOR HIS POLITICAL CAREER, EVEN IF IT WAS AGAINST MY BELIEFS AND NOT AT ALL RELATED TO MY JOB. he denied everything. EVERYTHING. he stuck to the narrative that i was just lazy and the proof was i’d just taken AN ENTIRE WEEK because “my back just hurt a little” and i had the audacity to skip work for someone else’s grandmother dying

i’m not exaggerating, i swear to anyone who might be reading this. that day was brutal and i’m still not over it half a year later, i don’t care if that makes me sound like a wuss. i worked eight years of my life in this fucking place.

this argument lasted for hours, but i kept my head down because i couldn’t afford to lose the job, specially not then. i even apologized for any loss in performance and tried to explain my point of view and what i was going through (which i’d already done to another superior weeks ago anyway). but just when i thought i’d MAYBE be able to keep my head above water, he told me he was denying my the request i’d made to take two weeks of holiday days before the thesis final due date.

i had already explained everything to him. everything, even nico dropping the team and my having to do everything by myself. i broke down and i told him he was forcing me to leave my job, i’d just have been certified by a doctor and i was asking for leave for SCHOOL (all things that are protected by law here), but he just kept repeating i could either walk away from my job or show up during those two weeks. he just wanted me gone, but he couldn’t fire me right away without having to pay me THOUSANDS because of my seniority (by law). he knew what he was doing to me and he didn’t care about it. he didn’t even let me TOUCH MY COMPUTER, he told me he wasn’t the one pushing me away, that i was doing this to myself, and he’d ask for a lawyer to check my computer for any “inconsistencies in my activity”, even. i really have a hard time just thinking about that day and how utterly humilliating it was. i lost a lot of personal files, because i sat at that desk for eight years and of course i had personal files because sometimes i stayed after hours before going to class.

imagine for a second a sixty year old man, rich as shit, political candidate, standing in front of a computer, disconnecting the mouse and keyboard so i couldn’t touch it, yelling at me i was doing this to myself and i was losing my job because i had the audacity to ask for two weeks leave to finish my fucking school thesis.

and yeah, i lawyered up. i didn’t have actual money to AFFORD a lawyer, but mabu’s cousin’s girlfriend was a lawyer and lived one block away and i immediatelly told her everything there was to tell. she brought me to the firm she worked in and they guaranteed me i had a pretty strong case and i was at least gonna be able to walk away with something.

that put things in hold for a while because the “trial” or whatever wasn’t gonna be held until after the thesis, so i tried to forget about it. my boss even owed me my untaken paid vacation days, which i told the lawyers because i was pretty sure he’d just forgot, but i wanted to know if it made a better case against him. they agreed, and i left it at that.

but you know who was still making my life miserable even when february began and i had less than three weeks to finish our project right? MY SWEET BABY BRO. he was constantly nagging me about having to do all the work himself, like I’D ASKED ANYTHING FROM THAT HOUSE TO BEGIN WITH. but see, the nastier he started getting, the more apparent his lies began to appear. he got nasty to the level where ON THE DAY I WAS TURNING THE PROJECT IN he kept calling me demanding MONEY for stuff he’d paid for the house without checking in with me. i was honestly baffled by his level of selfishness, i was already sleeping three hours a day tops and he expected me to what, paint walls? he was FIERCELY against having to wait for my project to be done even if it was two weeks away and he was asking and asking for money when i’d just told him i’d lost my job without a penny to show for it. nice guy, really.

suddenly, the following lies became clear:

my mother didn’t care if i took the couch set, he told me that because he was moving again and he was planning on taking the couches himself. (he ended up doing just so, too). he lied to me with the thing that hurts me most in the world: my mother hating me. he had even made a joke about it, because my mother had bought a new couch not long ago, and he didn’t “get” why she “didn’t want me to have anything”

years ago he’d told me he had refinanced a tax debt the house had, and i gave him money for it. now that the house was about to be put up for rent, he pretended that had never happened and suddenly started talking about how we needed to take care of that

he wasn’t planning on splitting the rent three ways between him, our mother and i. he was gonna keep two thirds, and i later even found out my own mother had given him the idea.

then poor mabu confessed to me once, two years ago, she’d wore a skirt one time visiting my brother and his then girlfriend, and he had told her nasty stuff to her year upon saying goodbye and she had never said anything because didn’t want to hurt our sibling relationship

talk about final nail huh?

i confronted him and he denied everything, obviously, he instantly played the victim card, how dare i think that way about him, how dare i break his dreams of reuniting the family again. he said things to me i’ll also never forget like, apparently, it shows that i’m a shit person because i have no friends and no one wants me around, unlike him that has so many. he told me i thought the world owed me when i was shit and i believed anything anyone told me before believing him. no one told me any of his lies, i caught them all by myself, but whatever. he cursed me and told me he never wanted anything to do with me because i was rotten and i only cared about money and i was so so selfish. this must have been around march and i still don’t know anything from him, or care.

what do i have to do for that side of the family to leave me alone, i wonder? all i ever wanted to do was be his friend

the “trial” against my boss came and suddenly every lawyer that worked at that firm was taking a fucking holiday except for the one that was supposedly leading my case - except suddenly, i didn’t have much of a case at all. i walked away with less than 2 thousand dollars and that was WITH the vacation days i hadn’t taken. the agreement was the lawyers were gonna keep 25% of however much i made but THAT vacation money wasn’t supposed to count because it didn’t come out of the “trial” thing, you know?

well, it did. the lawyer screwed me over too. but hey, at least he’d gotten me unemployment for a couple of months (you only apply for unemployment if you’re fired, not if you walk away from a job, and my having been fired or not was what was being contested), i still tried to be optimistic, i had a few months to figure things out while i looked for another job, and at least i was able to finish paying for school with that money.

yeah, this was late february, beginning of march. joke’s on me for being optimistic at all

my own brother plotting with my own mother against me has done a number for my mental health. i already had baggage aplenty, like every trans dude or girl whose parents would rather see them dead than be a dyke/fag (my mother’s own words, ladies and gents)

my boss of eight years kicking me to the curve at the worst moment in my life in the most humilliating of ways while blaming me for it has left me feeling so worthless to people in general. i’m getting better with time, i think, but i’m still all not there. i have a really hard time thinking my work is worth anything at all.

i keep thinking my brother was right, and i’m a shitty friend, and i don’t deserve anyone around. my only real friend at the moment is my girlfriend, which makes it really hard to have any arguments because i start feeling like my life is ending because she’s pretty much all i have left and she’s the most important thing in the world to me because i wouldn’t have survived all this shit i’m writing without her by my side. i would walk to hell and back for her. but nico also left me behind without a second thought, after telling me i was like a brother to him, no matter how many times i invited him to hang out or anything to keep in touch. i’ve been a shitty friend to a lot of people, but not him, and he still didn’t care about me at all, so i just stopped trying.

but now social distancing has got me all fucked up. i can’t trust people. i can’t go outside. everything is scary to me, i have at least two or three panic attacks per WEEK and they get nastier and longer every time. i know i need help, but i can’t even afford rent, let alone therapy. Uruguay has the worst unemployment rates since 2006 now thanks to our baby-Trump right now. i look for jobs daily even if the notion of having a job even SIMILAR to the one i had before gives me the shakes. programming isn’t as hard as some people may think, but the workplaces are usually VERY toxic because you’re valued by the amount of lines of code you write, and i’m so so tired. i’m still looking because I NEED. TO. PAY. RENT. but not because it’s something i want in life, at all. i’d much rather be poor and just do freelance work instead, but i’m failing.

i thank the people that have helped me or commissioned me these past few months from the bottom of my heart. i’m sorry i’m not more active, i’m sorry i’m still rusty and can’t draw faster, i’m sorry i sometimes spend half a day crying my eyes out because i just don’t know how to move forward. i have a week left, i still haven’t made enough for rent, let alone the bills or food. mabu used to get plenty of art commissions on etsy, but she hasn’t sold anything since march either and she’s younger than me so our financial struggles have an even deeper impact on her

i’m just so, so tired. i’m lucky to have mabu, and that is about it. i honestly don’t think i could have survived this year without her. for months the future has looked like a black screen to me. i can’t even trust the vegetable market in front of my fucking house because some piece of shit spread the rumor that i’m trans and now i can’t even open the door to my front house without getting stares sometimes, it’s ridiculous. i wish i could trust more than one person in the world so that everything wasn’t on her shoulders.

i’m not okay. we’re not okay.

that’s about it. i’m sorry i can’t end this on a more positive note. at least we graduated with an excellent score. not that we had a graduation, obviously. thanks corona.

thank you for reading if you read this far ♥

#this is literally 5k+ words of how my life went to shit :)#trying to write down feelings like i used to do seven years ago when i was transitioning because i have no other outlets #sorry new followers #(sorry old followers)

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almostscrumptiouspeanut · 3 years

Text

Don't leave me alone

Spencer Reid x Y/N

Fluff!

That morning, when she opened her eyes, she knew exactly what was going to happen. The pounding pain in her temples, the dizziness, the discomfort caused by smells and bright lights, she knew it all led to one thing and one thing only: migraine with aura. She moved slowly, stepping out of the covers and trying to focus the room despite the urgent need to close her eyes and not open them again. Looking down and squinting to avoid too much pain, she blindly searched for the clothes she had picked out the night before. A habit that didn’t particularly belong to her, but one she had allowed herself to convert to after meeting Spencer. She got out of her pajamas calmly, movements slow and calculated: the risk of ending up on the floor because of vertigo was more than present.

Once dressed – grateful to her past self for having decided to organize her clothes for work – she decided it was time to take her medicine. She slowly made her way to the bathroom where she kept her medications, grabbed the bottle of painkillers specific to her migraine, and pulled out a tablet. She took a short time to swallow it, more bothered by the burning she felt at her temples than by the tablet going down her esophagus. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes to gather what little strength she had left to face those hours of work. She knew she could stay at home and ask for days off – being a journalist gave her the opportunity to work from home – but she knew that there, in the dark, alone, she would simply feel worse. If only she’d had someone to keep her company…

If getting out of the covers had seemed like a daunting task, facing the outside world was a suicide mission. Every noise, smell, even the light itself seemed to pierce her skull and plant itself firmly in her brain. She had greeted her colleagues with a small smile, avoiding speaking as much as possible. At that point, she didn’t even know how her voice would come out. Sh just wanted to get through those hours, hold out as long as she could, and then go home and curl up under the covers, patiently waiting for Spencer to return. It wasn’t a habit of hers, waiting for Reid to come home. It was one of her favorite aspects of their relationship: they both had the opportunity to be able to spend time alone.

Of course, Spencer’s motives were more than justified; it wasn’t everyone’s thing to go around psychologically profiling serial killers and arresting them. She understood how demanding and heavy his job was, which is why she had never tried to confront him with the choice: it was either the job or her. Also because she loved her independence, independence that vanished when she was sick. She was aware that hers might seem like quite childish behavior, most likely it was, but she couldn’t help but want so much small attention when she wasn’t at her best, especially when it seemed like her brain was organizing itself to suck out all her lifeblood. She took a few moments to gather her thoughts and return her focus to the present, not rambling off into imaginary worlds. She worked calmly, aware that she had no upcoming deadline, happy to be able to focus her attention on something other than her brain that seemed to be crushed at the inversion. Every once in a while she would hear her mother’s voice booming in her head, “you should have taken your medication earlier,” and she knew that – even if that voice was only in her mind – she was right. She had recognized the warnings the night before. The slightly blurred vision, the unusual tiredness and exhaustion, but she had taken the situation lightly, deciding that instead a few hours of sleep would be more than fine. Result? She felt her head on fire. Bad, very bad sign. In the end she even managed to work for three continuous hours, occasionally taking moments to recover and concentrate. Only during her lunch break – which she had completely forgotten and had been mended by one of her colleagues – did she pick up the phone, having previously decided to use it as little as possible, already forced to focus her gaze on the computer screen. She had unread messages, all of them fairly ignorable, except for the one from Spencer, which as always had caught her attention.

Spence💼

Hi honey, I hope everything is going well at work. I’m going to be late tonight, so many files to fill out.

Part of herself couldn’t deny feeling bad about it. Well, actually she had been completely dejected by that news, but as she always promised herself she would not put pressure on her partner. She answered him quickly, disguising her sadness and mentally thanking her for the opportunity to send messages, knowing that in a few seconds Reid would understand what was going on. The downside of profilers she told himself. She sighed, knowing that when she got home she would collapse on the bed, also because of the medication she had to take.

Maybe she had made a mistake in going to work that day, but in her defense she could say that she was sure Spencer would be there when she returned. On the other hand, she wouldn’t hold it against him, she didn’t want at all that Spencer put her first, ahead of his own work. Rather than blame him, she decided to blame her fate, which often played tricks on her.

She spent her lunch break sitting at her station, munching on some whole grain pretzels that happened to still be in her purse. She wasn’t hungry, hell she didn’t even feel like staying with her eyes open. When her cell phone vibrated on her desk, she jumped in fright, all too used to the silence in the office. When she read the name of the person calling her, she let a tender smile form on her lips: it was her best friend.

“Hey,” she replied, trying to use the most cheerful tone possible.

“Hi sweetie. Are you okay?” she asked immediately, her friend recognizing the forced tone she had used. She took a few moments to clear her throat and try to put the words together to formulate as convincing a sentence as possible. “Sure, everything’s fine. How are you?” diverting attention to another person – Spencer’s voice boomed in her mind – is a sign that highlights an attempt to hide something. She knew it, he knew it well, and her best friend unfortunately knew her better than herself. “Hmm. Did you have a fight with the little genius?” she giggled at the question, more because of the astonished tone her friend had used. She was well aware that she and Reid rarely fought – most of the time it was a silly argument.

“No honey, everything’s fine with my little genius” moments of silence on the other end of the line, so much so that she wondered if she had ended the call.

“You have a migraine, don’t you?” and, heck, how could s even think of hiding anything from her? She sighed, admitting her own defeat. “And okay, yes, I have a migraine attack. But it’s nothing serious, I can handle it,” she repeated, more to convince herself than her friend. “Did you take your meds?” she asked, in an apprehensive mom tone.

“Yes.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes…” was a little more hesitant answer this time, but she decided to let it go.

“Are you in the dark in your room?” now that was a question she didn’t want to answer. She decided rather to remain silent, thankful that she was on the phone and not in person, otherwise she would have seen her guilty look. For a moment she seemed to convince himself that well, it’s true that he who is silent consents. Here, it wasn’t working in that case. “…Tell me you didn’t go to work” the tone of reproach was definitely similar to his mother’s, who for a moment wondered if it wasn’t really her on the other side of the line. “Are you fucking serious? You know you have to rest when you’re like this!” then she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “I know, but sitting at home doing nothing drives me crazy. I feel… incapable,” she admitted, with an edge to her voice, because she was so ashamed.

Her friend sighed, softening the tone of her voice. “I know, I know honey, I understand. But aren’t you in danger of feeling worse this way?”

“Don’t worry, I can handle it. Besides, it’s only a couple of hours away and I’ll be home,” she tried to reassure her, though the idea of coming home and having to be alone….

“Is Spencer at work?” pretty stupid question, that guy never took days off. “Yes. He…um, he’s going to be late today.”

“He doesn’t know you’re sick” wasn’t a question, it was an observation. “No, but I’m sure when he gets home it will all be gone. I just need the tablets and some rest” hopefully she added mentally.

The conversation closed shortly after, leaving her alone with her own thoughts.

The rest of the working hours passed quickly, or maybe it was just her impression, as she had the urge to go home and curl up under the covers. Which, indeed, she did as soon as she returned. First she turned off her cell phone, exhausted by the hours of constant contact with the computer screen. She quickly undressed, pulling off her skirt and shirt as fast as she could, and then went to fish out what she called “lonely clothes” from her closet.

They were essentially one of her old sweatpants and a shirt that Spencer no longer wore and that she had appropriated. Tucked away in a corner of the closet, she would pull them out when Spencer was away and particularly missed them. She had been careful to hide them, too embarrassed at the idea that Reid might see them. She would never admit it out loud, but she loved wearing that old t-shirt, because in her opinion it still held Spencer’s scent. After taking her own medication-which would also knock out a horse-she snuggled under the covers, hugging the pillow

Spencer used to sleep on.

Another extremely childish habit, but one that gave her a vague sense of companionship. Couldn’t she have her own boyfriend to cuddle her? Then she would simply imagine him, surrounded by his scent. The painkillers took effect in a short time, leaving her finally pain-free and definitely sleepy. In a few moments, she closed her eyes and slipped into a peaceful sleep, where nothing could disturb her. She had always loved her ability to sleep deeply for so many hours, which is why she did not hear the front door open, close, the footsteps of someone approaching the bedroom and reaching her.

She opened her eyes only when she felt a hand resting on her own shoulder, gently shaking her. Still quite foggy from the painkillers, it took her a while to focus on the image of Spencer, probably also due to the darkness that reigned throughout the house.

“Hey,” the voice low and arched from sleep and hours of stubborn silence. In response s had a sweet smile and a tender kiss on his forehead. “Hi honey” whispered, shortly after Spencer, making her smile. She had always enjoyed Spencer’s voice, but when he whispered it literally made her melt with sweetness. What are you doing here? She wanted to ask, but merely enjoyed his company as he slipped under the covers at her side to replace the pillow and hug her tightly. She didn’t ask any questions, just snuggled into his chest and closed her eyes, simply thinking it was all a figment of her own imagination.

She stayed sound asleep for the next few hours, and when she woke up she assumed she had really only dreamed of Spencer at home, because her side of the bed was empty and cold. No one had laid down on that side, at her side. She took a few moments to get out of the stupor brought by the sleep induced by the medicines, then she sat up and reached for the bottle of water she had previously placed on the bedside table, near the bottles of medicines.

“You’re awake” locked in her own world of silence, she jerked when she heard Spencer’s voice, then began to cough violently. Of course, so did the water sideways. Heck, she felt more and more like a silly little girl. She was joined within seconds by her own boyfriend, who knelt down to be at her height and looked at her apprehensively. She lifted a hand to let him know it was okay, as the last few coughs shook her chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he began, Spencer, but was soon stopped. “But what time is it? Shouldn’t you still be at work?” she asked, confused. That she had slept all that time?

“What are you talking about? I came back early, I even woke you up and you fell asleep hugging me,” he reminded her, his brows furrowed and a confused look in his eyes. She took a few moments to connect everything. “I… I thought it was a dream,” she admitted, then smiled shyly at him. Spencer then decided to get up and sit by her side, resting an arm around her shoulders again and letting her rest her head in the crook of his neck. He stayed there stroking her back for a few minutes, cradling her gently. “You should have told me,” he said, then, catching her attention. She lifted her head a few inches to look into his eyes and give him a questioning look.

“That you were having one of your migraine attacks, you should have told me,” she specified, using a tone of mock reproach. “I didn’t want to worry you. By the way, what are you doing home already?”

“I came back early, I can tell. I couldn’t leave you alone in this condition.”

“But who-“ then she paused, realizing that her own best friend had probably spilled the beans to her boyfriend. She collapsed her head against Reid’s chest, sighing. “I was ashamed,” she admitted, after a while. “Of being sick?”

“No. Well, not really. It’s just that when I don’t feel well, especially when I have my migraine attacks I-“ and she paused again, trying to find the right words and not sound like a pathetic child. “You…?” he encouraged her, tightening his grip on her a bit. “When I’m hurting… I just… I like attention.”

“Attention…?”

“Cuddles” she spat out, then hid against Spencer’s chest so he wouldn’t notice the blush on her face. “Hey,” he said, gently lifting her face with his index finger. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be cuddled when you’re sick,” he reassured her, and then brought her fully seated on his lap and hugged her.

He gently kissed her cheeks, first one and then the other, then the tip of her nose – making her giggle – then her forehead, her temples, and finally kissed her full on the lips. “You should have told me sooner,” he whispered softly against her ear, continuing to caress her arms, her back, and kiss her face tenderly. “I felt stupid,” she confessed, clinging to her shirt, crumpling it in her hands.

Spencer immediately raised his head, looking at her as if he had a heresy. “Never. Never say that. You’re the sweetest, smartest person I’ve ever met,” he probably noticed her eyebrow arched, as if to say, “are you sure, Mr. 187 IQ?” Spencer chuckled at her skeptical look, then continued. “You don’t have to be a genius to be smart. I love the way you are, the sweetness with which you welcome me home every time. I couldn’t live without you,” he said, still whispering, and then kissed her softly. A slow kiss, not dictated by passion. “New rule,” he said, when they separated to breathe. She nodded, as if to incentivize him to continue. “Anytime you want to be cuddled, no matter if you’re ashamed, just tell me,” he continued, and then lifted his right hand and raised his little finger. “Promise?” she giggled, then nodded and linked her pinky with his. “Promise.”

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carsontheleft · 4 years

Text

Hot Mess

Summary: Hot Space is a hot mess and John does not want to not talk to Roger anymore. Things get more emotional than any of them bargained for.

Pairing: JohnxRoger (platonic), RogerxDominique (mentioned), JohnxVeronica (mentioned)

Comment: Hey, look, I’m still alive! I started this a while ago and then I spontaneously finished it yesterday and THEN I thought about posting it immediately and then I DIDN’T and now it’s John’s birthday it just fits quite nicely. Happy Birthday, John! Have fun with this, y’all.

John has to forcibly hold himself back from slamming the coffee pot back into its place. No coffee would only worsen the already disastrous day. Week. Month, almost. For the first time, Munich doesn’t seem to be their lucky place.

But maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s because John finally lets himself push for things he wants, that he likes and doesn’t let himself give in just because Brian is pushing for his way.

Brian. The mere thought of the guitarist turns John’s stomach into knots and pushes up his blood pressure. How can a single person be so fucking obnoxious, bull-headed, old-fashioned-

Okay, stop.

John takes a deep breath of stale basement air and decides he needs to breathe real, fresh, cold air without a huge grey, looming building pressing down on him.

Arriving on ground level, he takes one of the back doors leading to a narrow alleyway to escape. The air here smells a bit sweetly of the rotting food in trash cans, but it’s cold and sharp and already saturated with bluish smoke of cigarettes.

Roger is crouching beside John’s feet, leaning against the grey stone, with a pack of Marlboro Reds at his feet. It’s half empty and it’s not even noon.

“It’s not really the right weather for being outside without a jacket, is it?”

It isn’t. November in Munich doesn’t provide conditions to do anything outside. Where Montreux may have gotten the last golden sunrays of the year or the winter’s first snow, Munich is just grey, dreary and dark.

“I don’t see you wearing one”, Roger squints upwards at John having forgotten his sunglasses downstairs.

“Fair enough.”

Neither of them talks when John lights his cigarette.

Normally, that would be unusual. There has hardly ever been a time where John and Roger didn’t talk to each other, may it be because of an argument or because they didn’t have anything to talk about.

But not-talking is the safer choice of interaction nowadays. Not-talking doesn’t pose such a high risk for arguments.

But they’re friends and John wants to talk to Roger, he wants to explain his ideas and visions just like he’s always done it, but he’s not sure Roger would listen. And he just doesn’t understand why, doesn’t get why Roger and Brian are so afraid of some change, when that’s what’s Queen been about all along, a band not succumbing to trends and expectations, a band that always knew to surprise.

“John, I don’t wanna fight anymore.”

John nearly drops his cigarette when Roger’s voice rips him out of his thoughts.

He’s looking at him, and John is suddenly hit by how young Roger appears with his tousled blonde hair and wide blue eyes, that, admittedly, are blood-shot, but that doesn’t take the child-like innocence out of them.

Despite that, John scoffs.

“It’s hardly me who’s at fault here.”

Roger visibly flinches at that, recoils and turns his eyes back to the dirty pavement in front of him.

John’s worked hard to build up the defenses he’s calling his own now, so thick and impenetrable that not even Brian with his jabs and sniping remarks can get through them.

But now Roger’s ripped through them, just like that.

“Rog…”

“No, no, it’s fine, you’ve made your point”, his voice is a little husky, only barely betraying his hurt, “I’m going back inside, see you there.”

And it’s actually this eerie calm, which is so unlike Roger, that John wakes from the stupor he’s worked himself into and makes him realize they really should stop fighting and get to talking instead.

Roger’s quiet for the remainder of day, too. And John’s not the only one who notices, Freddie asks if Rog is alright and earns himself a grumbled “Just want to get out of this shithole”; Brian only grants him an irritated look when Roger doesn’t jump to his defense. Mack, Crystal and the other roadies opt for not saying anything at all, they know better but to get into arguments that cannot be stopped anyway.

It’s when Roger practically flees from the studio after they collectively decide they won’t get much more done and doesn’t stay back to joke around with the others that John decides he has to do something immediately.

He gets some beer, the German stuff isn’t really his taste, but Roger seems to have taken a liking to it, grabs two pizzas from the Italian place Mack did recommend and walks over to Roger’s apartment.

It takes the drummer some time to answer his door, two rounds of insistent knocking and a raised hand to start a third one, only then there’s some shuffling, the clicking of locks and Roger opens the door a fraction.

“Why’re you here?”, his blond hair is sticking up in every direction and he’s wearing a dark fluffy bathrobe. There is a flush to Roger’s cheeks that tells John he either pulled his friend from a bath or was just lucky to catch him coming out of the shower.

“To talk. Not to fight”, John holds up the pizza boxes with the beer stacked on top, “Please, Rog.”

Roger stares at him for a moment and for once John absolutely can’t read the usually so emotional face. Then he heaves out a sigh and opens the door to let John in.

The place is cluttered in a typical Roger-fashion. An overflowing ashtray, papers with what could be lyrics or shopping lists, a part of a drumstick for some reason and a colorful array of take out packaging. John winces, maybe he should’ve brought stuff to cook a fresh meal instead of gifting Roger yet another pre-made supper.

“How’s Dom?”

“She’s good. Took Felix and went to visit her parents, escaping the rain and stuff. You know how she hates it”, he does his best to declutter the couch table, mindlessly stacking pieces of paper on top of each other without looking at them or at John, for that matter.

“How are Ronnie and the kids?”

“They’re good, Ron wants to come down next week, but we’ll have to see if it works with Robert and the school. I miss them.”

Now Roger looks at him, but it’s not the look of disdain and almost disgust he wore when John presented them the lyrics of ‘You’re My Best Friend’ and he threw a fit over ‘I’m happy at home’. This one is one of understanding and compassion.

“Yeah, me too. Let’s have a taste of that beer you brought, yeah?”

They mostly eat in silence, only interrupted by the quiet murmuring of the TV and one of them occasionally commenting on the food or the beer. When John’s done with his food Roger is intently watching the 10 pm news. He’s not sure the drummer understands much of it, but John is willing to indulge him a while longer. It’s not like he’s looking forward to this heart-to-heart, but he knows it’s necessary and they’ll feel better once they’re done. John only wishes he could fast forward everything in between now and then.

“We need to talk about this”, John starts eventually when the pretty blonde woman on the TV is done with telling them that the next days will be just as dreary as today.

“And what exactly does ‘this’ entail?”

Roger is already in full on confrontation mood, and John has to force himself to stay calm. It’s Roger, he tells himself, no matter that it was actually him who put up the white flag this morning, he still doesn’t like to be cornered.

“Us not working like we used to. The constant fighting and discussions and nothing coming out of it. You constantly siding with Brian without listening to a word I say!”

Oh shit, he really could’ve worded that better.

“Me not listening? I AM listening, other than Brian and you! I’m listening to both your opinions and then I decide!”

“And it’s always in favor of Brian!”

“Well, if we share an opinion, then yes!”

“But why? Why are you so intent on keeping everything as it is?”, they’ve gotten louder and John really, really doesn’t want this to evolve into another shouting match, but he might not be strong enough to reign himself in.

But, much to John’s surprise, Roger sighs and slumps back against the couch rubbing his eyes.

“Because it works! We’re doing this how long now? 10 years? People know us, they expect our product to meet a certain standard, an expectation.”

“Our- our product? A certain standard? Roger, what are you talking about? Isn’t our music about how we feel? What we think? It’s not supposed to be some commercial bullshit”, John is seriously flabbergasted. Not in a million years he would have thought Roger would start to view their work as a ‘job’ only consisting of deadlines and expectations and goal fulfilment.

He scoots over to the other end of the couch where Roger is sitting and bumps their knees together.

“What brought this on, Rog? What’s going on?”

“It’s just…”, the drummer shrugs, rubs his eyes again and then starts to knead the shoulder muscles that John knows are always a bit tense, always a bit sore.

“We’ve been doing this 10 years, John, ten years! How many bands have made it farther than that? Who says it won’t just all fall apart next month? We can’t just start making different music now!”

“We’ve been always aware of that possibility. There was always the chance we wouldn’t make it, but now we’ve got number one hits in America! We’re an established name!”

It feels a bit weird to take on the motivational part, the part of convincing the others that they have actually made it. Usually, it’s Roger who does that.

“Yeah, but…”, Roger blows out a breath, “Don’t you feel like- like you were 27 just yesterday, snorting all the coke in New Orleans without a care in the world and now, now there’s a child and- and a-“

“A woman you might as well just marry”, John tightly presses his lips together to not let the laughter escape. So, that’s what all this is about, Roger just realized he’s actually a grown-up now and he doesn’t feel too comfortable about it.

“It’s not that!”, Roger argues, “What difference does a bloody certificate make?! I have a family now; I have to provide!”

John sucks in his cheeks to keep himself from grinning. He gets it, he does, Roger’s worries are understandable, and he doesn’t want to ridicule his friend, but from John’s position his worries are a bit ridiculous, when they’re in far better position now than when John first became a father.

“Dom has a job, too, you know?”, John teases, fully intending to lighten up the mood. Unfortunately, it has the opposite effect.

“That’s- Stop making fun of me!”, Roger jumps up from the sofa and hovers over John, fists clenching at his side as if he has to keep them from either punching something or someone or from thrashing his apartment.

“You know, sometimes I feel like that’s the only thing I’m good for! The dumb blonde, that crazy drummer guy, let’s make fun of him, he deserves it! He’s no good for anything anyway, can’t manage to write a good song, and we don’t even need him for drumming anymore!”

Oh. Oh.

So that’s where all this moodiness is coming from.

Roger rarely shares his feeling so honestly, usually none of them does if there are not copious amounts of alcohol and or other substances involved, but Roger especially likes to keep everything bottled up, until it implodes. And that leaves either a destroyed room or drumkit, or Roger in front of a toilet puking his guts out and avoiding just about everyone for a few days after until he’s okay with himself again.

So, to say the least, this emotional outbreak with feelings actually being articulated is uncharted territory for John. And for Roger too, who’s staring at John like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Rog-“

“Forget it!”

He stalks away, fluffy bathrobe and naked feet, and slams his bedroom door shut.

John sighs and settles back into the sofa. He came to talk and he’ll get his talk, even if he has to stay the night. With Roger, that might just be the case.

Well. At least the apartment has a second bathroom.

John wakes a couple of hours later, around 3 am. It’s a weird feeling, usually they’d still be out and drinking, but it’s probably not the worst thing to get a whole 8 hours of sleep at what is actually night.

A sharp gust of icy cold air wafts through the room and John finds that it was that what woke him in the first place with the flimsy throw he used as a blanket not providing adequate cover.

The apartment is mostly dark save for the lights of the city streaming in through the window and John can see through the door gap into the hall and that Roger’s bedroom door is open again.

He finds him in the kitchen, standing in front of the open window smoking.

“You’re still here”, he notes when John steps up beside him.

“I wanted a talk, an honest conversation. I won’t leave until I get one.”

“Took a note out of Freddie’s book then, huh?”

“Freddie?”, John scoffs, “Try your own.”

Roger turns to him, mouth open and already gesturing with the softly glowing cigarette. “I’m not-“

“Ridge Farm?”

That takes his drive. He turns back to the view, deeply inhaling the burning smoke. John takes one out of Roger’s packet. He doesn’t really like the brand, but it’s better than nothing.

“You taped my drums, John”, Roger eventually says.

“Are you still mad about this? I’m sorry and I promise not to touch the kit again without you knowing.”

“It’s not that- well, that too, but-“, Roger takes a deep breath, steeling himself, “You tape my drums and there’s nothing I can do that a drum machine isn’t able to. Hell, I’m not even the best drummer without them taped, my technique is weird, if you can even call it that, there are guys who are a lot better than me and understand this disco thing you’re prattling on about.”

“It’s not like Brian-“

“He’s trying, okay? He’s trying to get into that kind of music, he’s not sprinkling guitar solos all over the songs like you’d do it with coke on a hooker because he wants to annoy you! Well, not primarily anyway, but he’s trying to make his contribution to what you’re doing! He wants to have part in this and I, I just don’t see it, I’m sorry.”

Roger flips the butt of his smoke out of the window and rubs his eyes.

“But we can’t just stop! We can’t just stop at The Game and that’s it! We need something new, start fresh like we’ve done it with each album.”

John finishes his cigarette as well but makes a show of putting it out in the ashtray.

“I know that, Deaks, I do! I really don’t want to become the guy that needs to be dragged off stage because the people got tired of him playing the same things over and over and over again! But I just can’t do this disco thing.”

John understands this. You can’t force yourself to produce music you just don’t feel. This is like Fred and his love for opera and musical theater, something John will never get the hang of, no matter how often he’ll take Ronnie to the ballet. And while Roger does like a more electric style of music, he’s not really known for setting the dancefloor on fire. Maybe the women on it but not the dancefloor itself.

“I know you and Freddie don’t need me to realize your vision, this album but I- I can’t lose Queen, John, I can’t. It’s everything.”

Roger’s almost too quiet for John to understand resting against the kitchen counter in the dark, half of his face illuminated by Munich’s night life in a loose shirt and a pair of boxers.

And John thinks, this is it. This is what all this is about.

Because John started to play with those guys he now calls his brothers as a hobby, as a distraction and creative outlet opposite his studies. He had never envisioned to become a famous musician; this never had been a goal for him. So he had sat back and let Freddie, Brian and Roger work on the music, on the band, had let them work on their dream.

And then he had turned 30 and for the first time John had thought that this might be what he’d do the rest of his life. And he decided to give it his everything all, to make a monument for himself, to really give his very best.

And for Roger it had always been like that. There never had been a second option, a plan B, go big or go home. John’s pretty sure even if they hadn’t made it, Roger still would still be a musician. If not in Genesis then in some local band or a studio musician, but he never, ever would have gone to work in some lab or, even worse, in a dentist’s office.

“What are you talking about? You won’t lose Queen! Never! We’d lose all our female fans if we kicked you out!”

“Great to hear that that’d be the greatest loss”, Roger grumbles and turns away but John catches his wrist.

“You won’t lose us. We need you. Who’d be there to back up Fred when his voice is shot? Who’d argue with Brian just to draw him out of his funks? And heaven knows, not Brian nor me can keep up with Freddie.”

“Like I can these days.”

And there’s the other worry hanging in the air around them, Freddie leaving them behind more often than not, being more elusive than he’s ever been. But that’s a worry for another night, right now this is about the two of them, the Sonic fucking Volcano.

“Come on”, John tugs on Roger’s wrist, “Get over here.”

“Deaks, no, I don’t-“

John tugs a little harder and then Roger’s body is pressed flush against his.

“Like you ever say no to a good hug.”

“I hate you”, the drummer mumbles against John’s shoulder and heaves out a mighty sigh relaxing into the embrace.

“I’m sure you do.”

They rest like that for a few minutes, which is not really a thing they’d normally do, but they’re both tired and miss their partners. It’s okay.

“Y’know”, Roger says as he detangles himself, “I’m not sure Queen would lose all its lady fans if I left. Not with you looking like some kind of… Greek God.”

He wrinkles his nose and pokes John into his right pec.

“It’s called exercise, Rog, you could try it.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I don’t exercise daily on those bloody drums. Also, Dom likes it. She calls me soft and cuddly.”

He sticks out his chest.

“Wow, look at that, Roger Taylor is proud of being called soft, what a turn of events!”

“Well, at least I don’t look like handlebar with an exploded mop on top.”

“Handlebar? I seem to recall you calling me a Greek god not 30 seconds ago!”

“Yeah, and I regret it already. Just wait until I throw you out of the band!”

#dealor #roger taylor #john deacon #queen #fic #hot space #hurt/comfort #banter

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