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oh-holy-slut · 3 years

Text

Bloodlust

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, explicit language, blood sharing, mentions of death, oral sex

Word Count: 2,6k

Summary: Stefan forced Damon to try his animal diet. Damon hated it, but didn't had a choice... until Reader makes a suggestion. Suddenly things get steamy.

Being with Damon was complicated. Him and Y/N have seen each other a lot in the past weeks. The two of them had a lot of fun; saw a lot of movies. Actually, Y/N was sure Damon secretly hated many of those. However, anytime Y/N suggested another dramatic, romantic cliché movie like "Last Song" - the vampire groaned, put his arm around her shoulder, let her head rest on his chest and endured every single second of the movie of her choice.

Damon even flirted and teased Y/N here and there, but didn't lead to anything more intimate so far.

Today was another of those days. Y/N stuck around at the Salvatore boarding house, brought a few of Damon's favorite groceries and a bunch of movies, of which she thought that they will suit his taste. Even if they were a little to bloody and brutal in her opinion.

"Pick one!", she demanded, holding all three Blu-ray sleeves in front of him. Damon just shrugged, not bothering to even look.

"Don't be a killjoy, Damon Salvatore!" Y/N sighed.

"Tell me what's wrong or pick a movie. You've got no choice. And besides that... Which number of drink is this?" Y/N frowned, pointing at the liquor in her friends hand. Damon usually consumed his beloved bourbon with pleasure.

But the man on the couch didn't seem pleasured at all. His facial features totally hardened and a look in his eyes like he was ready to rip someone's heart out.

You put the disc's back in your handbag, closing the zipper and put the bag on the floor.

"Fine. No movie night today. Who are we going to kill?"

A small smirk appeared on Damon's lips, finally looking towards Y/N.

"Stefan and his hero hair. He made me go vegetarian... well, for a vampire... and I can't get myself to eat one of those chipmunks, bunnies or bambis." He shook himself with disgust.

"And why did he count you in? You clearly aren't excited about the changing... So, why did you agree?"

"He said, he would kill me, which is kinda funny. But-" Damon made a wide gesture "he stole my daylight ring. And he wouldn't give it back until I stop feeding on innocent people - and kill them."

"So, you truly let your younger brother blackmail you like that?! Wow... I don't know how to feel about your dieting or your new path. Or whatever this is supposed to be."

"You don't like me killing people either", Damon maintained, while taking another sip of bourbon.

"Well, I don't", Y/N agreed, took a step forward, stole the glass from the vampires hand and put it on a small table nearby. "But I don't believe in forcing as a method to get people to change their minds. I believe that change for the better must be an intrinsic motivation," she added quickly, giving the vampire an innocent smile.

Damon's lineaments suddenly turned from annoyed to curious. "Any suggestions, little one?" The vampire raised an eyebrow and a little smirk showed up on his lips. On the one hand, Y/N blushed over the nickname, Damon called her. On the other hand she felt skittish looking forward to making a deal with him. Not only a deal. It's far more than a simple agreement.

It's Y/N, actually giving Damon a part of her. The red elixir of life. She was about to give him total control of her body and she not even for a heartbeat doubt that Damon will use it against her.

"Actually... Yeah. There's something on my mind." Y/N said chewing on your lip. "I could open up a vein for you. I mean, you could feed on me. And since you have my permission, there's nothing for anybody to have objection about."

Damon frowned and gave her an incredulous look. "You would do that for me?" The vampire couldn't believe, he understood correctly. Why would Y/N want to get involved with him feeding on her? What's in it for her? Damon tried hard to connect the dots, but he wasn't able to. It all seemed to make no sense. Y/N wouldn't have an advantage of that. The vampire hesitated, pinning his dangerously blue eyes on the girl in front of him.

"Is it so suspicious of me, that I'm trying to help my closest friend?" It pierced Y/N's heart, realizing, Damon's trust in her was rather fragile. "Never mind", she waved the pain away and forced herself to keep her composure. "I only had a hasty idea; you really don't need to fee-"

Suddenly Damon appeared behind Y/N, using his vampirism. "Shhhh", he whispered softly. "I never said, that I don't want your blood. I'm thinking about if we are going to cross a line? Blood sharing can be very personal..."

"It can be? It is personal already. Believe it or not - I'm not gonna offer my veins to all the vampires of Mystic Falls." Y/N rolled her eyes, her arms folded on her chest to point out the indignation she felt right now.

"Kinda sensitive today, huh?" Damon gently stroke a strand of hair behind her ear, Y/N could hear this smug smirk through his words. It was a true 'Damon thing' to do. "I didn't mean it like that, princess." He sighed; unsure if he should agree or not. Damon didn't want to act selfish towards Y/N. He compelled a lot of girls for the purpose of drinking blood in the past. He literally used them as long as they weren't too annoying - and then he acted like they have never met. Damon Salvatore couldn't imagine this scenario with Y/N. They've been so close, the vampire couldn't stand loosing her. The offer was risky, but it also could bring each other even closer.

Damon tried hard to avoid any serious attraction between Y/N and him, afraid of messing up. Indeed, he found himself thinking, and even dreaming, about Y/N more than he wanted to admit. She was smart and had this special sense of humor, the vampire adored so much. She was the only one, who could make him feel good no matter what. Needless to say she had that glimmer in her eyes, when she did something she truly loved. In these moments she was even more pretty. Y/N was hard to resist.

And maybe now he could have her like nobody else. At least the vampire gave in. He wanted her blood. He wanted her.

Y/N flinched by the feeling of Damon brushing her neck with his lips. "Oh, Damon", she gasped. "Bite me." Y/N almost begged for the vampire's teeth breaking through her skin. Damon loved the sound of her husky voice. In less than a heartbeat he turned into his vampire shape. "If you insist", he grinned devilishly, ready to place his teeth on to her skin.

Suddenly Y/N made a slight move forward with the intention to interrupt her friend. "Did you change your mind?" Damon was close to switching back to human, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. Mostly a lack of understanding, but also a little of disappointment and even anger. Was Y/N playing games on him? While Damon Salvatore was sorting feelings, Y/N turned around, standing now in front of him.

She was so close, not even a piece of paper would fit between them.

Y/N slightly exhaled breath, her eyes darting between the vampires eyes and lips. It was the first time Y/N saw him like this. The icy blue of his eyes, she loved so much, has turned darker. Purple veins appeared under his eyes; Y/N couldn't help herself. Damon's appearance fully intoxicated every fibre of her being. Her fingertips found their way gently brushing over his dark purple veins. She felt heat and softness, while tracing one of them. It took her a few seconds to get out of trance, realizing what she had done. "Sorry", she murmured with a voice barely audible. "Don't apologize, little one." Damon tilted his head, his lips curled up in a self-assured grin, exposing a perfectly white vampire fang. "I never saw you like this before, you loo-"

"... look like a monster?"

Y/N shook her head. It was nothing like that. Yes, he did look unfamiliar. And she should be scared under normal conditions. Instead, his look hit her in an unexpected way. He looked hotter as a vampire, if it was even possible.

Y/N cleared her throat, looking up at Damon. "I feel... attracted to you."

"So nothing's changed", Damon teased, raising his eyebrows. The girl in front of him softly slapped him on his shoulder; which was only possible because the vampire permitted. "You are always so full of yourself." She smirked, feeling more confident being to something, they have had been so many times before. Granted, he was terrifying accurate, but she wouldn't serve her feelings on a silver platter.

"I'm still into it. You can bite me; feed on me. I only needed to see you before..."

A shockwave of electricity flowed through her body the second Damon took her hand and pulled her close.

"I'll be careful", he promised, nuzzling his head into the nap of her neck. Damon once again placed his lips on her soft skin.

Suddenly a harsh pain made Y/N feel like in a kind of haze. She flinched and let out a groan at the same time, unintentionally biting her lower lip.

During Damon embedded his fang deeper and deeper, she started feeling dizzy. Her hands searched for the vampires upper body, finally wrapped around his neck. She needed him to lean on. A narrow trickle of blood flowed down her neck. Let Damon feed on her felt like flames licking up every fiber of her body.

With every passing second Y/N could feel her control slip away. Her body was now firmly pressed against Damon's, like she would want to merge them into one.

Damon noticed her staggering, wrapped his arms around her waist, supporting her.

Bloodlust already messed up the vampires mind, so he continued feeding on Y/N.

A tempting moan escaped her lips, but she didn't care to cover up. Y/N's heart was racing, her eyes flattering. It was almost as if he was about to push her over the edge, but in a different way. "Mmm, this...this… feels soo weird... and so good...", she whispered under a shallow breath.

As soon as Damon heard her fading voice, he abruptly

quitted drinking from her.

"Fuck!" He rapidly laid her on his lap and checked Y/N's vital signs, to make sure she was okay. Instinctively he bit his wrist, pressed it against Y/N's mouth. He knew his blood would heal her, but it wasn't going fast enough. A few seconds passed through, to him they felt like centuries. Y/N finally blinked and Damon was relieved. He cupped her cheeks, his gaze never leaving hers. "I thought, I'd gone-" Damon cleaned his throat. "I'm so glad, you are doing well", he whispered, while trailing her lips with his fingertips. "So, fuckin' glad..." The vampire exhaled a deep breath.

"It... You made me feel good. Strange, but good", Y/N appeased and flushed over the memory. "Maybe you got a little carried away, but I don't mind. I wouldn't trade the feeling for anything."

Y/N quickly interrupted herself, before she could reveal too much.

However, Damon used his vampire skills, noticing that Y/N was hiding something from him. "Isn't there anything else you want me to know?", Damon asked without taking his eyes off her. Y/N shifted and flushed even more. "It's unfair. You use your vampirism to get everything out of me."

"Well, if that were the case, I could easily compel you." Damon shrugged and found back to his smugly self. "Tell me, what you are hiding". He said in a seductive voice.

"I wanted to get lost in you."

Her confession sent shivers all over the vampires body. At first he could not decide, how to handle this. "Are you sure that's what you want? I could really hurt you..." Y/N hummed.

In the next split second, Damon pinned Y/N against a wall, smashing his lips on hers, kissing her with all the passion he had to give. The vampire devoured Y/N with a new kind of hunger. He didn't know he could crave someone so much.

"Fuck me, Damon..."

The vampire felt him getting hard, only by hearing those little three words out of her mouth.

"Say it louder. Tell me, what you want me to do."

Y/N pulled him closer, gently biting his earlobe.

"Fuck... me, Damon." It took her a second to focus and forming the words again. After she was near to climax earlier, it wasn't a long way getting to the edge once more. "Make me cum... You almost had me there..."

A deep moan got over the vampires lips, once he understood, what Y/N was trying to tell him.

With the next blink Y/N found herself in Damon's bedroom, lying on his bed.

From now on there weren't many words needed. Damon's hand's found their way under her shirt, cupping her breasts and make her moan over and over again.

He closely listened to the rhythm of her heart, making sure he would be able to delay her climax to the point he needed her to.

"Don't cum yet... I want to taste your little pussy first."

Y/N grabbed the vampires head, running her fingers through his dark hair - pushing him down, since she was unable to form a single word.

As Damon got down, he didn't take his eyes off Y/N.

He used a hand pushing up her skirt and lightly stroking over her panties with his fingertips.

"My girl is so wet", he praised in a low husky voice."-and I barely touched you."

His dirty words in combination with his touch lead to another moan, almost turned into a scream.

Damon pushed the fabric aside, leaving sloppy kisses on the inside of her thighs.

Y/N's eyes fluttered, when his soft lips reached her middle.

Damon's tongue licking around her entrance was driving her nuts.

"...so delicious..." were the only words she was able to catch up. Damon knew, he couldn't thrill her forever, so he got back to her. He spit on his palms, stroking his hand over his crotch. In under a second Y/N finally felt this releasing pressure of his cock. It was like a switch went off in her brain and she braced herself for the hard thrusts that would follow.

Damon dimmed the whining noises Y/N made with a passionate, hungry kiss.

He cheated with his vampirism to give it to her deeper and faster, knocking out all the air of her lungs while Y/N screamed out Damon's name. Her walls clenched around him and made him twitch. It was like her pussy massaged his dick the best way possible.

Every time he hit her harder and rougher he was making sure he hit her spot with every thrust.

Damon gathered speed one last time and pushed her over the edge until she was a moaning whimpering mess.

With her last contraction around his shaft, Damon was cumming inside her.

"You are so tight, little one", he whispered under his breath. "We should make arrangements more often."

Please like or/and reblog if you enjoyed reading or/and want me to write more stories about Damon.

Thanks guys ❤️

2K notes · View notes

bubbledumbbinch · 3 years

Note

Thank you so much for doing my ask(>0<；)

I LOVED IT. I kinda have a thing for shy characters if you could tell. If you don't mind, can I request the same oral headcanons for Ruggie, Jamil, Jade and Rook this time? The one who look like the service tops? Thank you so much💕💕

Eek hello again! I’m so happy you enjoyed my last one!! I had fun writing it! Ty for the request again, I’m v excited for these set of characters. And, I like the shy ones too 🙈

ALSO THESE CAME OUT MORE LIKE SCENARIOS JKSDKJNDKNAK

A/N: This piece of writing is for 18+ readers only. Minors DO NOT INTERACT.

Warnings: Mild story spoilers for Episode 4 for Jamil(?) , mentions of blood for Jade, slight yandere for Rook

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

Ruggie Bucchi x Reader

Giving

Right so, it’s no secret that Ruggie is a real giver. He does so much work for Leona and is known for being giving in his community back home! He’s too sweet!

Ruggie playfully slaps your ass as you walk through the halls of NRC, making you gasp as you look around at your surroundings, making sure nobody caught him. Taking his squeezes on your body as a hint, he leads you to a hidden corner and starts to tease you more.

Ruggie also isn’t picky on location either, willing to find a hidden place around the school, a janitor’s closet, or an empty classroom. This man will please you anytime, anywhere.

The dirty blonde would definitely feel you up in preparation, knowing what spots to linger on, letting out his signature shishishi~ as he can hear you moan or feel you shiver at his fingers.

Ruggie pushes your form onto the door lightly, giggling at the way it rattled from the pressure.

Pulling your pants down, the smell of your sweat from throughout the day, permeates his senses making his cock and ears twitch. It’s a dirty pleasure~

I can also imagine him saying “THANK YOU FOR THIS MEAL” before going down on you

Ruggie is aggressively trying to make you cum, he’s rough yet so good with his tongue, keen on hearing those sharp noises from your mouth.

When you get close, you put your hands on his head, rubbing his ears and giving him so many praises. He feels his cock twitch in his pants as he starts sucking on your clit with more fervor than before - making you squirt on his face

The beastman laps up at your juices as you ride out your high, eating up the flavors and the noises coming from you~

“Shishishi~ Y/N, you couldn’t help those lewd noises from coming out hm?” Ruggie teases, as he helps you put your pants back on. “Careful though, next time, I don’t want to risk having anybody else but me hearing those noises, okay~?”

Receiving

You and Ruggie are in his bedroom back at Savanaclaw, after a tiring day of him running errands for Leona. You praise him for his efforts and offer to suck him off to reward him for being such a good helper!

Ruggie is not used to someone offering to service HIM instead of the other way around, so don’t tease him for looking so shocked!

He blushes, asking if you’re sure you really want to. Internally there is some doubt as if he doesn’t know if you really meant it or if you were just joking.

Once he realizes you’re serious, he eagerly strips down to his boxers, letting the tent in his pants be all the more obvious.

You wanted to service the hardworking hyena boy as much as possible, stroking him through the cloth of his undergarments until you could see a dark spot on the briefs where the tip of his dick was.

Suddenly, you felt your hands moving on their own. You looked up as Ruggie was controlling your hands, making you pull his underwear off, as he couldn’t take anymore messing around.

Eventually he lets control of you go, and he lets you bring his cock into your waiting mouth. He closes his eyes and lays into his pillow, groaning immediately.

After working his length in your mouth, he uses his hands to pull at your hair, his tail now wagging violently under him.

It doesn’t take long before he already starts to twitch in your mouth. As he gets closer, he asks to cum on your body, preferably on your chest

Ruggie lets out hot frequent pants as he releases, his ears twitching in delight as he paints your naked chest with his cum

He isn’t satisfied with one time, he is greedy and wants you to make him cum at least twice!

“Haanh- wow..! It felt so good, Y/N...” the blonde panted. He stroked himself back to hardness as he looked at his seed that served as art on your body. “Here, open your mouth, c-can you do it again for me? Please?”

Jamil Viper x Reader

Giving

Jamil has also been a giver for most if not all of his life. As we’ve come to find out, he isn’t extremely happy about being a giver and in turn putting himself and his desires after.

However, when it comes to you, Jamil wants to give you so much, at least as much as he can within his power. Nobody has cared this much about him romantically to a point where he can feel like he can be himself.

Jamil convinced to teach you how to make one of your favorite dishes of his in Scarabia’s kitchen, his hands grazing over yours as he stands behind you, fingers lingering over places all over your body, his touches ghosting over your ass. You hadn’t even gotten to the actual “cooking” part, only gathering the necessary ingredients and starting to cut vegetables.

Jamil’s offer to pleasure you with his mouth comes from him as he stands behind your smaller form, whispering in your ear about how he would love to taste you, making you whimper at the sound of his voice combined with his lewd words. You find yourself grinding onto Jamil, hearing a hiss leave his mouth.

After finding a clean table in the kitchen to set you on top of, Jamil makes sure to lock the door to the kitchen and make sure the coast is clear before he stalks back to your form with a mischievous glint in his eye, promptly pulling your pants down and licks up your clothed pussy.

Jamil moves the cloth to the side and skillfully uses his tongue to lick up and down your cunt, then directing his attention to flicking his tongue on your clit.

Jamil’s so good at this you have to wonder how many time’s he’s done it before, but a particularly hard suck at your clit is bringing your full attention back to him.

Jamil also knows how to use his hands, bringing his calloused fingertips from basketball practice and putting them to use on your nipples.

Maintaining eye contact with his dark eyes, Jamil works you up gradually to a slow but intense climax. He holds onto your legs as you squirm in front of him. You’re struggling to find something on the smooth table to grip onto so you bring your fingers to his head, feeling his smooth black locks in your grasp.

Only moans and slurping sounds can only be heard in the kitchen as you try to keep yourself silent. “Y/N...” Jamil’s liquid honey voice calls to you. “Let me hear those beautiful sounds you’re making, my jewel. Let me hear you scream out my name as you cum..!” was all you heard before losing yourself to the pleasure once again.

Receiving

Jamil was coming by to visit you at Ramshackle dorm after basketball practice. The way his tan skin glistened with sweat never escaped you, and your gaze trailed from his eyes, to his arms, down to his gym pants. His sweat seeped through his clothes and created multiple dark spots.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, Jamil was perceptive and smirked once he noticed where your gaze was at the moment, blush coating his cheek as he chuckled. He would never push you however to do anything sexual, if you didn’t want to.

Like Ruggie, Jamil would be a bit shocked about you offering to give him a blowjob. He knew you were bold but... the fact you were offering it to him and knowing who he was, what he’s done, and you still forgave him... Jamil is absolutely shocked but he feels a certain emotion that makes his heart feel warm.

He lets you take the lead as you both lay in bed, kissing him gently while stroking him through his pants. Every grunt and pant is like music to your ears.

You crawl down so your face is near his crotch, as you pull down his pants and free his member. After a few pumps and a very visible bead of precum comes to your attention, you stare into his eyes as you take him into your mouth.

Jamil releases a low sigh, as if he doesn’t want to be heard by a single soul. His expression can only be described as admiring as you bob your head up and down his cock, stroking what you can’t fit into your mouth in your dominant hands.

Jamil covers his face with his hood, cheeks visibly red and his hair splayed messily on your bed. Suddenly, he bucks his hips up when you tongue his head, causing you to moan in pleasure.

Jamil warns you of his incoming release, telling you to go faster. You answer his pleas and suck more of him and move your hand faster up and down his dick, causing him to groan loudly and release his hot cum.

You look up and see him staring down at you with piercing dark orbs, black bangs sticking to the side of his face as he’s panting heavily.

“Let me see it, my jewel. Open your mouth.” You obeyed Jamil and opened your mouth to reveal all of his cum on your tongue, allowing it to drip onto his limp cock. “Tsk, it looks you’re gonna have to clean this up now...” Jamil placed a hand on your cheek and lowered your head again, gently.

Jade Leech x Reader

Giving

Lord have mercy I’m boutta BUST

Jade notices how tired you are when you’re both working shifts in the Mostro Lounge, seeing how you stretch your back and move a bit slower than usual. He can tell you’re nearing the end of your multiple hour shift.

Once you’re both finished your shifts, Jade offers to lend you his bed to rest on. He smirks once you turn away hehe

While you rest yourself on his bed, you take off your blazer, scarf, and hat from your uniform. You close your and you hear Jade from across the room shuffling about - removing his shoes, the sounds of his clothes being placed into his closet, his steady breathing.

Jade was beautiful. 190cm of pure intimidation, yet he was always gentle and chivalrous towards you. His stunning eyes were unique and the way he smiled at you only served to send shivers through your body. Not with fear but exhilaration.

You moved your head to sniff at his pillow, inhaling his scent of light cologne and pressing your legs together under his covers. Suddenly you hear him leave the room and you take the bold liberty to remove your shirt and pants. If he finds you, you can just weasel your way into making him believe you were too hot, right?

After several minutes of imagining Jade’s presence and his scent, you nearly screamed when you felt a sudden dip in weight on the bed, opening your eyes to see Jade’s signature smile.

Once he rips off his sheets from your body, he smirks and trails his fingers lightly along your form - from your chest, your abdomen, then finally to the waistline of your panties.

Jade bites you lightly, on your plush thighs, drawing a bit of blood and licking the wounds, making you squeal.

“May I?” Jade looks into your eyes, voice as smooth as ever. After given the signal of approval, Jade removes your undergarments swiftly and gets to work on your leaking pussy, tongue changing paces on your clit.

After a few minutes, Jade eases off. “If you don’t mind, darling...” he simply mutters as he takes off his gloves and inserts his long middle finger into your hole, earning a throaty moan from you.

Jade feels his cock leaking from the actions and sounds coming from his partner - yet he only pays attention to you, focusing his energy on pleasing you.

It feels like electricity running through you as your orgasm rips through your body - you gripping onto Jade’s bedding as you still feel him on your pussy, slowing down his ministrations as you come down from your high.

“Oya oya~ what do we have here?” Jade whispers. “I could smell your arousal from the other room, darling. Have I been neglecting you?” He feigns sadness as he raises his eyebrows and licks his lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll service you soon so, please, allow me...”

Receiving

Jade was coming back to campus from one of his frequent trips to the mountains to gather some mushrooms. Some were questionable and some were edible, and Jade loved to find out which were which.

You offer to service Jade, teasingly, when he told you he was going to cook one of your favorite mushroom dishes for you with his fresh inventory.

“Oya? Don’t tease me like that, you’ll make me think you’re serious. Although, that would be nice.” He chuckled, patting your head. You huffed and started working on his pants, lowering them to reveal his still flaccid penis.

You started gently working on Jade’s length with your fingers, watching how the blood started to rush to it and make it harden. As precum leaked down his dick, you licked it from where it was on his length back up to his tip, taking him into your mouth.

Jade only offered a pleased “Hm.” as you started to move his girthy dick in and out of your mouth. You stared up to see his face, still the same expression as ever, but with a light blush across his cheeks. Were you not making him feel good..?

As if the eel merman could sense your feelings, he gave you firm praises telling you how good it feels and to keep going.

As you move faster, Jade starts meeting your pace by moving his hips to meet your mouth, chasing after his own release.

Jade makes light grunts and starts panting when he finally cums into your mouth, staring into your eyes. You swear his heterochromatic eyes glow, whether you have the lights on or not.

“Aah, darling... you were lovely.” Jade praises you and strokes your hair. “I wonder, how you’ll feel if you serviced me with your other holes...” Jade’s smile only grew as he bared his serrated teeth.

Rook Hunt x Reader

lord have mercy im boutta bust part 2

Giving

Rook Hunt is a romantic - he’s over the top, poetic, compliments you endlessly, gives you plenty of affection, what more could you want from a lover? Some may think he was too eccentric but you loved that about him.

You were in his room as he showed you his collection of photos. You knew Rook had a thing for taking candid photos of people, it was quirky and it made him unique! However, when you passed by a certain page, Rook quickly tried to take the album from you frantically.

After finally pulling it back, you open the next pages to see many photos of you from afar, close up photos of your clothed chest and photos of you in gym class, your shorts showing off your thighs shining with sweat. Around the photos were hearts on the photo covers and cute stickers.

Rook visibly grows embarrassed, furrowing his brows and looks away from you.

However, you take the opportunity to bring his chin back to face you, and plant a loving kiss onto his lips. Were you really not creeped out by him?! You already had a feeling Rook would have done something like this. In fact, the idea of him being so fixated on you only turned you on more.

“Mon amour... I’m sorry but you are so ravishing I could not resist.” Rook bites the bottom of your lip, making you gasp. He uses this opportunity to skillfully let his tongue slip into your mouth. Feeling the way his tongue moved over your tongue, you couldn’t help but whisper “I wish I could feel your tongue somewhere else, mon chasseur d’amour...”

Something inside of him awoke when you used what little knowledge of his mother tongue to speak so seductively like that. Swiftly, Rook lifted you from your position on your chair and brought you to his bed.

With your permission, he stripped you down fully naked to be able to admire your beauty. He sighed as his cock twitched in his pants at the sight of your nude form.

It feels like heaven once Rook’s mouth is kissing your lower lips. He moans into your cunt as he tastes your juices - making a show of his tongue working hard on your clit. Vibrations are sent from his throat through your body as he moans while sucking violently on your clit, making you scream in pleasure.

Yet, he doesn’t stop - after he notices you really love when he does that, he keeps going. Now, he slips a finger to your dripping pussy and uses his fingers on his other hands to play with your nipples.

The overstimulation has you screaming, panting his name and squeezing his head into your thighs. You’re cumming as a blubbering mess, only his name leaving your mouth as high pitched squeals.

“Ah, Y/N, mon amour...” Rook’s blonde locks stick to his face in a mixture of his sweat and your juices as he raises his head up. “You were amazing! I wish I could have recorded that so I could watch it over and over again... you won’t mind if I did that next time, right?”

Receiving

You and Rook hadn’t seen each other as often as you’d like, recently. Whether it was with his Science club’s activities, your assignment workload being too intense, or just misalignment of schedule free time, you felt down.

You missed your blonde lover and his affection. Therefore, you hatched a plan. You had ordered a bunny suit and ears and were waiting in his room. You admired the way your thighs and breasts looked in the suit, angled his chair towards the door, sat on it with your legs crossed, and waited.

After minutes that felt like hours, you heard his footsteps and humming from outside of his room. Opening the door, Rook stopped dead in his tracks as he caught sight of you waiting for him.

He dropped his backpack to the floor, closed the door, and practically dashed to where you were sitting, falling to his knees and kissing your pantyhose clad legs.

After a few heated kisses were exchanged from this position, you got up to lift the blonde up from the floor and push him to the chair you were just sitting in.

“Roook~ my love, I’ve missed you...” you whined, unbuckling his pesky uniform pants. “Let me service you today, mon chasseur d’amour~” he groans at the use of his self given nickname leaving your mouth.

Rook watches intently as you pull his pants down and kiss up his legs, stopping where his undergarments started. Gazing up at him with half lidded eyes, you took the fabric down with your teeth, causing him to breathe heavily and moan at the sight

You part your lips and lick his throbbing pink head, tasting the precum as you sink further down his length. Slowly, you bring your head back up only to come back down, sucking his cock eagerly.

Rook had a mirror on his wall that was, luckily, facing him so he could see the view of your back and the way your ass looked in the tight bunny suit you wore. He even fawned over the little tail that was on top.

Cupping his balls and stroking his cock with your free hand and your mouth, you could feel him twitch. Rook brought his calloused hands to entwine his fingers in your hair as he feels himself coming close to his orgasm.

Rook spits nothing but praises into your ears as he releases his seed into your mouth, listening to you gag lightly. You swallow his cum and he pulls you up high enough to kiss you, his greedy tongue tasting himself in your mouth.

“Mon amour, what a little trickster you are, no? I never expected to see you waiting for me... it’s like I got caught in your trap, oui?” Rook wiped his forehead of his sticky sheen of sweat. “My, bunny... you look like you’re in heat. Why don’t we take care of that together? I’ll help you this time...”

Anyways...

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yanderemommabean · 3 years

Note

I was going through your archive when I found a post that I love so dang much. It's the one where you take a demons power to go to different anime's. But surprise! Everyone is yandere for you now. But I gotta idea for it. Let's say you FINALLY get back to your universe, you're thinking that no more yandere's are gonna go after you. Then you see L in a cafe, Sebastian along with Ciel coming out of a car, and all the yandere's you THOUGHT you escaped from have just entered the Real universe.

You think you’re safe, you think that finally you can rest and not have to worry about being taken, being stalked and watched every living second of the day. The world seems to have slowed down, you no longer feel the need to run and escape from those you once looked up too and favored.

But then you feel the hairs stand on the back of your neck. That familiar trepidation turning into dread, sinking your heart and stomach. Call it instinct, call it magic, but you knew in your gut you weren’t actually safe.

A familiar blond bombshell with red wings is being admired down the street, his golden eyes piercing yours while he wears his signature playboy grin. Like a true hawk cornering it’s prey.

Just a few feet beside him, a man with a green and black checkered jacket is seen asking people all sorts of odd questions, you can only guess that he’s asking about you.

No. No this isn’t fair! This isn’t supposed to be happening! You want to scream, to dash the other direction, but you also want to fight them out of the absolute frustration of being chased constantly without a second to breathe. That fucking asshole demon! An absolute bitch!

You begin to search for a route that would help you hide. Alleyways, crowds of people, stores with accessible storage rooms, anything would be a godsend to hide from the ever growing list of problems and psychos following you.

While dodging as many pedestrians as possible was a skill you’ve reluctantly been honing in on lately, it was going to happen that you’d lose focus through your panic. You collide into a muscular, well built man with his hair in a tight bun. Beside him is a smaller, but still taller light haired man with an apologetic smile.

Asahi and Sugawara. Of course, even the sweethearts are after you.

“Oh-oh my goodness Y/N! I’m so sorry! I know I was looking for you but I didn’t mean-“

“Easy Asahi-“ Suga soothed, helping you up off of the ground while you wince and scrunch your nose. While colliding with the absolute unit of a man, you fell back and felt a crack as you used your hands to break your fall, and it looks like your body took that term literally.

“Oh god, that doesn’t look to good” Asahi murmurs, gently rubbing his thumb over your ever swelling wrist. His lips softly kiss the skin while Suga places his hand on your back, guiding you to walk with them as he beams his beautiful smile down at you.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to worry about anything, we’re gonna take care of you. I guess the whole team kinda scared you off huh? They tend to do that when overexcited” he smiles, as if any of this was remotely normal.

You were trapped. Not only where they more capable of chasing you down, their height and strength combined meant you couldn’t possibly get away, unless some miracle occurred. And lately? That’s been a commodity you’ve been starved of.

Asahi continues to ask if you’re ok, stuttering and timidly looking away on occasion when all you manage is a grunt of irritation and pain. You can’t even focus on where these two are taking you, your wrist throbbing and burning as the impact of the damage done starts to sink in.

As you are turned down a sketchy alley, Asahi abruptly stops in his tracks, pushing you behind him and giving Suga a stern and suspicious expression. Suga just nods, and pulls you close to him as he whispers in your ear “Stay beside me, ok? Not to make you worry or anything but...we don’t think we’re alone here”.

Fucking duh. Of course you aren’t. There’s as many psycho, obsessed anime characters as there is germs at this point. For all you knew cells from cells at work were coming to take you. And it would be kind of funny if that wasn’t a real possibility!

You just bite back a sob of frustration, tears freely running down your face as you collapse to the ground and bury your face in the hand that wasn’t currently having a malfunction. Suga assumes it’s the pain, kneeling down to try and soothe you the best he could. Seconds later, a blade swings by and misses you both by just millimeters.

Looking up from utter fear, you see none other than Zack Foster standing with an unhinged expression. “Alright you had your fun you little runaway, but I’m kinda getting tired of chasing you all over creation. A mans got needs you know? Cant keep his needs away from him forever!”

Asahi tightens his fists and puffs out his chest, stalking closer to the scrawny man as he sets his scythe against his shoulder. “You aren’t even close to worthy of having Y/Ns love! You just nearly killed her!” He shouts, giving Suga a nod to lift you up and make a run for it.

The two continue to throw jabs and tauntings as Suga gently lifts you, nuzzling into your shoulder as he rubs your back to soothe you. “You’re ok, you’re gonna be ok” he repeats, as if talking to a scared child and not an adult wanting to sell their soul again to get out of this nightmare.

Once again, because sure why not, Suga stops in his tracks and clenches you tighter to his chest.

You look over your shoulder to see just what new clusterfuck the universe has given you, meeting the demonic eyes of Rui, who’s webbing was ready to slice the man apart if he so much as breathed wrong.

“Enough games. Give me what is mine and I’ll make your death much less painful. Y/N was taken from me and I plan on getting rid of any and everyone involved”. His words were so calm, so matter of fact, as if he expected Suga to just comply and accept his fate.

You shut your eyes, hearing the voices of many other characters approaching like piranhas to an injured animal. Except instead of working together, they planned to tear anyone apart just to have you, and no matter the outcome you didn’t want to see just who the victor would be.

(-Mommabean, please leave comments or tell me what you think! Helps motivate me and to see where I need to work on more!)

#yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #Yandere portal #Yandere anime #yandere sugawara #Yandere Asahi #Yandere Zack Foster #Yandere Rui #yandere demon slayer #Yandere Haikyuu #Mommabean

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bandaigaeru · 3 years

Text

song of the summer - bang chan

→pairing: ceo bang chan x gn reader

→genre: kinda strangers to lovers

→synopsis: he runs one of the biggest music companies in the country, yet he inducts you to help aid him and his friends, each of them deemed as representatives of the ‘big three’, for their next official comeback.

→word count: 12.5k

→ warnings: swearing, shitty father figure

A single question hangs over the dim conference room you’ve somehow scored a seat in. Does the general public want to see 3Racha? Bluntly, the answer is right in front of you. Glowing against the whiteboard from the overhead projector, the carefully curated slideshow answers the rhetorical question.

One of the dance representatives from the back of the room twirls his pen between his fingers. Leaning back in his chair, he apathetically wonders aloud, “So it’s true, then?”

“What’s that, Mr. Lee?” the marketing representative, a Mr. Choi, holds his remote between both hands as he leans toward the table. The word ‘full’ dances across his face as he steps in front of the projector’s path.

“That they’re making a comeback. A full one?”

Mr. Choi nods, scanning the rest of the patrons’ reactions with squinted eyes as he says, “That would be correct.”

Of course, the three who would walk onstage and perform aren’t here. Mr. Bang is probably running around, abiding by his role as the professional CEO who never skips a beat. Regarding the other two, you’re not sure. They’re not as predictable.

The project is pretty tight in terms of what needs to be met. Summer is around the corner, and everyone and their mother will be fighting to hold that mere title of having the temporary greatest hit. When the general public awaits their yearly easily digestible, flowery songs.

“Keep in mind that we are all under Bang! Entertainment,” Choi remarks, clicking to his next slide displaying headlines questioning the company’s next move. “It should go without saying, but all eyes will be on us as the season turns.”

You stare at the bolded words, trying to digest each of them. Joining the company was likely the best decision you’ve ever made, outside of adopting a cat named Loba. When you got scouted as a producer, you were under a different company. Bang! offered a contract, but didn’t require an interview because they ‘didn’t want to invalidate or question a talent they’ve already seen.’

It was an ego boost.

“I’m sure you all know what your roles are in this,” Choi says, taking glances around the room to make sure each face isn’t lost or distant. This is 3Racha we’re talking about. Everything must be perfect.

You take a glance of your own. A few belong to the dance department, some to hair and makeup; however, you are the only producer here.

You raise a low hand to garner Mr. Choi’s attention. “Why am I here?” you subsequently ask, dropping your hand and crossing it against your chest as before.

“The team personally requested you,” he says.

Connections, you instantly understand. In a place like this, in a time like this, they’re a necessity. Nepotism is practically required in the world of music, hence why it sucks for most aspiring indie artists. You didn’t choose to befriend a guy who happens to be best friends with one of the big three here. So, you cast a blind eye.

It’s all a game of luck.

The meeting doesn’t run much longer. A concluding statement with hints of a threat if anyone messes up rings through your ears. A project end date of July 20th, when the album is supposed to go live. You’re not nervous, per se. Simply blindsided given the lack of information. What’s the song about? When’s the due date? Will 3Racha come to you first, or do you have to take time out of your day to the CEO’s harrowing office? The uncertainties aggravate the impulse of opening a new document on your computer and delving into your producer rituals. You can’t create someone else’s project out of blankness. And that irritates you to no end.

Someone throws their arm around your shoulder in an attempt to throw you off your purposeful stride.

“Congrats,” the belonger says.

You glance over to look, even though you know the voice well. He is your connection, of course.

“Thanks.”

Minho pulls you back to a slower pace. Familiar faces from the meeting pass you to the elevator, a majority in a meaningless chatter. They expected an appearance on this project.

“What are you doing tonight?” he finally asks, stopping altogether and dropping his arm from your shoulder.

You shrug, looking curiously at him. Minho’s not one to beat around the bush.

“Hypothetically,” he starts, “how would you feel being invited to bro night?”

“And actually witness you or Felix puke on the lawn instead of hearing about it? No thanks,” you scoff, making an attempt to abandon the situation by following the distancing crowd.

He grabs your wrist, spinning you back to him. “Please?” His eyes are pleading, glaring back at you like an innocent kitten.

You tip your head and sigh. “Why?”

Instead of cutting to the chase, he sucks in a deep breath and says, “I’ll pay you.”

An eyebrow cocks. Regardless of your amusement—a desperate Minho doesn’t appear often—worries consume you. “What’s up? Why are you acting like this?”

Wary eyes jump around the hallway before they land back on you. “Follow me,” he mumbles.

His steps are calculated as he guides you to the elevator and presses the floor his office resides on. The ride is silent, as is the walk down the hall. You step into the room first, and he closes the door behind him. Despite the urge to ask if he’s about to murder you, you bite your tongue and take a seat on his upholstered couch. Identical to the one in your office.

Gently, he lowers himself into his chair. A few minutes pass of you simply staring at each other. Nerves crawl up your spine and you disguise them with a snarky comment. “Are you going to tell me why you’re willing to bribe me into spending time with your friends?”

In the time he takes to respond, you think about how the only mutual friend you have is Jisung. Sure, you know everyone on a name basis; but it’s not like you’ve known them as long as Minho. He doesn’t have other, more qualified, friends to drag to bro night?

“Chan’s kinda in a mood right now,” Minho’s words are slurred by the breath he releases as he speaks.

“And?” you press.

“I want you to see it before you work with him. And for him to understand you in advance. Y’know. You’re a little,” he hesitates, “forward sometimes.”

You should take this as an insult, but you can’t because words’ owner knows you too well. Minho never speaks unjustly.

“Touche,” you nod. It’s better to own up to your flaws. If you don’t, that’s how you end up walking into a carefully curated narcissistic personality.

His features loosen as he presses his forearms on his thighs. “So. You in?”

“I don’t really have a choice,” you emit a wry laugh. All in one sentence, you’ve managed to prove his point. It’s simple, really.

“You see, I’ve already told the boys you’re coming. Either way, I would’ve gotten you to go. The only other option would have been to threaten you with a knife,” he admits. As you gawk at him in awe, realizing you stand in the same boat, a proud grin grows on his face. With time, you begin to mirror the ones you admire. Friends, for example.

“I think Seungmin will like you,” he adds.

“Why do you say that?”

All you know of Kim Seungmin is that he’s in the vocal department, along with his younger counterpart Yang Jeongin, and that he’s a menace. Minho’s words.

“You’re both evil.”

That’s the last straw. You stand up without a word and stomp for the door.

His laugh echoes behind you, striking a quieter one of your own. Still, you stay in character and slip out into the hallway. Minho has won too many of these scenarios.

ii.

Loba sneaks into the kitchen as you wait impatiently for Minho. Thirty minutes. That’s how late he is. You consider texting him, but acknowledge the possibility he’s stuck in traffic or something. Agitation tells you to do it anyway since he only lives two blocks over.

The orange cat paws at your calf for attention, momentarily distracting you as you set your phone down on the counter. Minho’s chat is wide open. She, too, finds excuses for him.

Her head nuzzles against your palm as you scratch behind her ears. She meddles successfully enough to trick you into feeding her a few treats. While you reach for the top shelf of your pantry, a pair of footsteps sneak up behind you. Heavier than Loba’s.

“Did the cat convince you to spoil her again?”

“Son of a-” you recoil, whirling around to greet the man, the myth, the late bastard.

The familiar appearance of a sly smirk, mischievous eyes, and an outfit that makes him look like a casual runway model, pierce your vision.

“You’re late,” you mutter, stepping past him and scooping Loba up. You rest her head on your left arm, cradling her like a baby. She tilts her head up to stare back at Minho. Traitor.

Minho grabs the bag of treats for you.

“Sorry, I had to pick up Jisung. He’s in the car,” his voice trails as he slips his thumbs between the plastic fold and focuses on opening the difficult seal.

“Damn it,” he curses. Karma arrives faster in deserving situations.

“It took you thirty extra minutes to pick him up?”

He deadpans, “You know he likes to be presentable for the boys.”

When you don’t give him the satisfaction of a single laugh, let alone a change in emotion, he whines, “Oh come on, that was funny.”

“You trick me into going to your stupid hangout, and now you have the nerve to show up late?”

He sneaks a few treats to Loba. “You’re really not mad at me right now, are you?”

“Irritated, at the least,” you admit.

“Well, then I’m sorry. Jisung got off late so I had to wait at Bang! for him.”

The words sink into your skin, but you don’t acknowledge them further. The anger fades on the walk down to the car, a great distance separating you and Minho. It’s practically dissipated by the time you climb into the backseat of Minho’s Kia Soul.

Jisung turns in the front seat and offers his hand at an awkward angle. “It’s a pleasure to be working with you.”

You hold your seatbelt in one hand, accepting his with the other as you force a measly smile. “Same for you. Thanks for suggesting me to Mr. Bang.”

Confusion warps his face, twisting his eyebrows in a weird knit as he shakes his head. “It wasn’t me. Must’ve been Chan.”

Minho drops himself into the driver’s seat, suspending any further questioning.

Jisung returns to his original poise as when you approached the car. Eyes focused on his phone, actively typing something out.

You click your seatbelt into locking. An unnatural feeling plagues your gut. Mr. Bang wanted you on the team? It feels unlikely, but you know Jisung wouldn’t joke like that. Even if he were the type, his acting of unawareness gives away the truth.

Minho glances back at you in the mirror. “Ready?” he asks as his hand rests on the gearshift.

You press your lips into a line as you nod. “Mhm.”

You stare down at your hands carefully folded in your lap. For the first time since before producing, the itch to create is drowned by an intense, overwhelming brew of something lingering in your veins.

The expectation of you has pierced through the roof and is shooting out of the stratosphere.

Chan—Jisung quickly advised you to drop all formalities, so you’re rewiring your thoughts—has a home in Gangnam. Fitting for his status, but smaller than you expected. It’s still able to fit at least four of your apartment in it, though.

Jisung and Minho walk ahead of you up the stairs. The elevators in rich apartments on this end can only fit two people if you really scrunch together. What’s the money for, then?

“Today’s Monopoly night, right?” Jisung examines Minho’s side profile as he cautiously lifts one foot after the other. The stairs here are steeper than any you’ve seen. Hiking sounds better than this.

He hums in approval. “I guess we’ll sort teams later. We probably won’t live through the night with last week’s.”

A brash laugh escapes Jisung’s lips, subsequently echoing against the walls and bouncing back to your ears. “Right.”

You tune out their conversation for the rest of the climb, settling for watching your shoelaces sway with each step.

Jisung pushes on the door for the fourth floor, holding it open until you’re fully into the hallway. “Chan’s the second door on the right,” Jisung nods to one of the identical doors along the hall—appearing more expensive than your monthly rent with its rich stain.

Minho doesn’t bother knocking, instead opting for trying the doorknob. It allows access to the gigantic living space and the loud chatter previously muffled by walls.

You must be the last to arrive, but you probably could’ve guessed such.

“Hey,” Jeongin looks up from his conversation, inspiring a round of greetings from all the others.

“You all know each other enough so I’ll skip the introductions,” Minho glances between you and the group, starting for an empty end of the couch.

When Jisung follows his lead, you take a headcount. It appears everyone’s present except Chan—his birth name still feels awkwardly informal in your thoughts. You glance down the dark hallway to your right, counting one, two, three closed doors. Nature drags you into curiosity.

Seungmin, your alleged evil twin, waves you over.

As you take the empty spot beside him, he says, “Sorry, you looked a little awkward just standing there. Thought I’d save you before Hyunjin said something.” He shoots a pointed nod at the long-haired blond lounging between Changbin and Minho.

“Oh. Thanks,” you force a little smile that imitates gratitude. You didn’t feel awkward observing, but maybe your aura screamed otherwise.

Jeongin leans slightly over Seungmin’s shoulder with an inquisitive eye. “How did Minho convince you to come?”

“Blackmail,” you nod. Not attempting to summon a laugh, but managing so in the process.

“That’s Minho for you,” Seungmin tips his head in a slightly disbelieving manner.

“It’s okay, though. We’ll make tonight fun for you,” Jeongin raises his hand, and you meet it with a high-five.

Bro night might not be as bad as you thought.

“If only Chan comes out from his room,” Seungmin mutters, particularly to himself, as he leans his arm on the back of the couch and twists his body to look back into the hallway.

Questions. You want to ask them, but then Minho’s words return in full, blaring effect. Forward, he said. Meaning: blunt. In your face.

You bite your tongue. Redirect the temptation, you think, as your eyes scan the room. Admittedly, it’s odd seeing all these people away from their respective passions. However, Changbin’s phone is cradled in his hands, and his fingers are typing away potential lyrics. Felix, too, is hiding the fact his fingers are mirroring the directions of his recent choreography. Maybe passions are always a shadow of you.

“Should we just fix teams?” Minho says above the impatient silence.

“We can,” Hyunjin leans his forearms on his thighs. His hair falls in front of his shoulders like he’s some kind of Greek god.

“Team captains?” Seungmin asks.

“Let’s do the oldest of each unit, but since Chan’s God-knows-where, Changbin can represent,” Minho nods, glancing around for looks of satisfaction.

“Sure, rock-paper-scissors for who goes first?” Seungmin pushes a strand of hair out of his eye.

Short story short, Minho wins the first round with a victorious cheer of, “Easy!”

“You only say that because you know they always pick scissors first,” you accuse.

Minho points a finger at you, “Allegedly.”

You land a spot on Minho’s team since he got the first pick of the litter. Then, by Minho’s attempt at matchmaking, Chan lands on your team.

As you’re moving spots, you shoot Seungmin a sad, unmoving look.

He laughs, pushing you towards Minho. “Maybe next time.”

“What?” Minho glances between you. “Are you planning a coup against me?”

“You wish, Lee Minho,” you sigh, falling into the empty space beside him.

After a few beats of silence, for good measure, Minho leans down to your ear and says, “I told you you’d like him.”

“Yeah, he’s like a better version of you,” you turn to see the predictable look of offense on his features.

“Fine then, get Seungmin to drive you home,” he pouts, crossing his arms against his chest and pushing his back into the couch.

“Oh come on,” you nudge his elbow, laughing at his exaggeration.

You see a smile tug at his lips before he breaks, letting a chuckle break through his barrier.

In the remaining meantime that you wait, Minho calls dibs on the cat. Seungmin’s team claims the dog, with an offhand comment from Minho going, “You would choose the dog.” Finally, Changbin’s team chooses the hat.

“Is that a joke because you’re so short? So you can gain a few inches with the hat?” Hyunjin jabs.

Changbin reaches over the couch to try and hit him.

From this end of the couch, you can look directly into the dark, mysterious hallway. You watch as the second door knob slowly turns. You focus on it, and the shouting dispute fades out in your ears.

Chan steps out from the room, carefully closing the door behind him so as to not bring all the eyes on him at once. You fight your facial expressions to remain neutral as you take in his appearance—which is shockingly normal. Suits are his workplace fashion, and consequently, all you’ve seen him in. Now, he wears black basketball shorts and a black tee. His hair is even loosening into curls. Is this the same man who runs a massive music company? Are we sure?

His cover is blown the moment he steps into the light of the living room. Jeongin warily points a finger in your direction, “You’re on their team.”

Chan presses his lips into a makeshift smile as he approaches you and Minho. He pushes out a small ‘hey’ before taking his spot on the other side of Minho.

His reclusive figure makes your heart wrench. You wish you could have talked Minho out of going. To him, you’re just an outsider he has to put a front up for. But, the thing is, he isn’t trying to build a barrier. It appears that he doesn’t have any more energy to try.

You catch yourself staring when Minho nudges your knee with his. “You take the first roll.”

Collecting the die, you notice your hands trembling a little. Not good. You manage, somehow knocking Seungmin’s dog in the process. He feigns shock, whining in an accusatory tone, “You’re no different than Minho.”

The choir of laughter shuffles you back into reality when you glance back at your accused teammate, catching the look of the other. The corners of Chan’s lips are slightly turning up into a smile.

Whew. You’re amazed by the amount of relief that little smile gives you.

iii.

The game trails into the early hours of the morning, and a few times a boy will point at Chan and say, in an attempt to be lighthearted, “This is all your fault.”

To the dismay of the rivals, Changbin’s team manages to win. Jisung, a member of Seungmin’s team, flips the board twenty turns too late at the news. “This game is stupid!” he laughs through his words.

“You’re cleaning that up,” Changbin says as the money flutters to the rug beneath the glass coffee table. A cue for the group to laugh blinks above their heads, each varying in intensity. Hyunjin even claps a few times, for his vocal contribution pales insufficient.

Jisung slumps to the ground, “I know.”

Chan lifts himself from the couch to aid him with a lingering smile from all the laughs. As the night progressed, he seemed to slowly inch into his ‘normal’ state, as Jisung had referred to in the car.

Minho slips his phone out from his pocket. At the single-digit time, nearing close to sunrise, he heaves a sigh and pushes himself up. “Guess I should get you home.”

He extends a hand to help you up.

“You’re leaving already?” Seungmin asks.

“Uh, yeah. It’s like three A.M.,” Minho squints at him, turning his lit home screen at him for proof.

Chan snickers as he stacks all the thousands. “That’s early for me.”

See? He’s even making jokes now. This is a weird normal, considering all you know of him is his status, but admittedly better than whatever funk he was previously in.

“See you on Monday, I’ll just spend the night,” Jisung lifts his hand in a semi-wave.

Chan doesn’t protest. Instead, he looks up at you and sticks his hand up. “Can’t wait to work with you,” and smiles. Dimples indent his cheeks in a way that makes your stomach churn.

You take his hand and mirror his smile, though it’s rather genuine in comparison to the one you offered Jisung.

Minho has the decency to wait to call you out on it until you’re in the soundproof safety of his car.

“I saw that,” he says.

“What?”

“The smile. Don’t like Chan. That’d be way too awkward for me.”

You laugh, examining his twisted face of disgust as he starts the car. “Why?”

You’re not asking out of curiosity. You don’t like Chan, and you don’t see yourself liking him anytime soon. Or in the far future, for that matter. It’s just so easy to mess with Minho.

“Uh, my best friend dating my other best friend? That’s third-wheel central. I’m too hot to be a third wheel.”

Later, as you’re unbuckling your seatbelt to venture into the apartment building, Minho mumbles, “But, I mean, if you like him it’s whatever. I don’t want you feeling like you have to hide anything from me.”

You punch his arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re getting all sappy on me again. You don’t have to worry about stuff like that, dude,” you frown. Above anything Minho can say to you, his insecurities taking over his words hurts the most.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” you say, then adding, “Unless you want to come over sometime this weekend. I’ll be home.”

He smiles, though you sense the differing thoughts behind his eyes. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you say before shutting the door.

iv.

In all the wrong ways, Monday comes too fast. Faster than you can process Friday night, essentially.

You try to scramble your remaining thoughts into order as you walk into the lobby.

Is Chan going to be normal today? Hoping so. Why was that relief so astonishing? Did Minho catch onto something-

“Hey, Y/N!” Jisung intercepts your thoughts.

Your eyes involuntarily widen as he pops out from seemingly nowhere. Your gaze drifts to his outstretched hands, offering you one of the drinks each brandishes.

“I didn’t know which you’d prefer, and Minho wasn’t awake so I couldn’t text him. So, I got coffee and tea.”

You take your pick and nod a ‘thank you.’

“How was your weekend?” you find yourself asking as he leads you to the elevator.

He shrugs, “I did absolutely nothing other than a brain detox for this project. You?”

Despite his back being to you, your chin twitches into a nod. “Same as you, pretty much.”

“I think Chan’s in a good enough mood,” Jisung glances back at you as he reaches for the up arrow on the elevator’s panel.

“Sweet.”

Minho is your gateway to an easy conversation. Of course, he’s not here, but you slightly wish he was. You’re forced to meander in an abrasive silence until the elevator takes you up to the eighth floor.

Eight, because Chan detests the idea of being too close to anyone. He doesn’t want his presence to divide anyone’s attempt at creating their best. An icon in distancing, Minho joked as during your first week under Bang!

Jisung sucks in a deep breath as he turns into a room whose door is partially cracked. “Here goes nothing.”

On the far side of the room is an L-shaped couch. Resting upon the vertical side as if he were in his own bed is Changbin. A laptop sits in his lap, closed, but his phone is inches away from his face as he types.

“It’d be more effective if you used that laptop,” Jisung comments, resting his drink on the coffee table and sitting by Changbin’s feet. Giving Changbin the perfect opportunity to wedge his foot between the younger’s ribcage. A cry of pain shoots out of Jisung’s mouth. Truly, he should have seen that coming.

“Dude!” he shouts, jumping to his feet and clutching his side.

“I told you not to mess with me,” Changbin’s eyes narrow into a warning gaze, but Jisung laughs anyway.

“You are not scary, bro.”

You start for the opposite end of the couch, pressing your back into the armrest as you watch the scene unfold. Cupping your drink with both hands, you’re unsure if the warmth stems from it or the sibling-esque fight before you.

Changbin slides the laptop off of his lap and pulls himself to his feet. He stands before Jisung, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. Then, as his eyes flutter open, he brings his fists up.

“Come on. Fight me.”

Jisung takes a step back. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Changbin shakes his head. “I’m not.”

Jisung’s eyes flit around the room for help. It would be that when the muscle man wants to fight, the only person physically capable of pacifying him isn’t here. Pure, unadulterated luck.

“And when you break my arm, then what?” Jisung’s eyebrows raise in taunting interrogation.

“Then I break your arm? What about it? You can perform with a shattered humerus. Right, ace?”

By chance of a higher being granting Han Jisung a break, Chan enters his office with a manila folder in his hand. Only a few steps into the room, he has to halt. His hand finds his hip, releasing a big sigh as he clutches the folder. To no surprise, he’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit. Black, of course. But with a surprising navy undershirt, which you give him credit for.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to cause injury in my office? Can you imagine the lawsuit? Would you do that to your beloved friend?” he asks a stream of questions.

He seems relatively happy.

Changbin drops his fists to his sides, gaze dropping back to his abandoned laptop. He scoops it up before reclaiming his spot. To fully conclude the argument, he opens the laptop’s lid. “Jisung started it.”

The accused boy looks at Chan and silently pleads his case. His hands clasp into a prayer.

Chan waves him off with a smile and a breathy laugh before starting for his desk. He acknowledges you with a small raise of his hand.

“Ah, where to begin?” he asks, to no one in particular, as he tosses the folder onto his desk and sinks into his chair.

“Han, can you turn the projector on?” Changbin takes the initiative, reaching over the couch’s back to grab a white USB cord.

He does as told, warily trying to avoid another pseudo-fight, before rushing to the light switch and fading the room into a mass of darkness. Chan must not like having his blinds open. Black world he lives in.

Changbin’s screen presents against the vacant wall across from him. A pre-written document appears, with the title ‘TT Ideas’ and a dashed list. 1.5 spacing, you admire.

“Okay, I did my homework,” he sighs, dragging his cursor over the highlighted ideas for the title track. “These are my personal favorites, but I’m up to debate.”

Jisung shivers at those words. Debate. Meaning: duel.

In the darkness, Chan steps in front of you. He sits halfway between you and Changbin, resting his elbows on his knees as he studies the list. You notice that his lips pout as he focuses, and his eyes squint a little.

You shift your own attention, for you’ll lose pacing if you stare at Chan the whole day. Changbin has highlighted unrequited love, turning the aura of summer into a song, unique abilities, and simply ‘flexing our equities’.

“Yeah, I definitely think that last one will go over well,” Jisung sardonically comments.

Changbin sighs in defeat and drags his cursor over his beloved idea, hitting the backspace in pity, “I knew you’d say that.”

“Can you elaborate on the unique abilities?” you ask, quieter than anticipated but still reaching its aim.

“Not to tute my own horn,” Changbin starts, running a hand through his hair, “but we’re sought after. When people see our names on tracklists, they immediately know the song is going to be good. They don’t sit and wonder if they’ll be disappointed, because they know with 3Racha that’s unpalatable. Hell, I saw someone tweet the other day that their favorite artist was spotted here, and the fandom went fucking crazy.

“People know what they expect from us, and that’s excellence. We deliver. You can’t say the same for a lot of producers. Doubt is inevitable for a lot of them, even if it’s only personal.”

“Couldn’t have said it better,” Jisung smirks, leaning his extended hand out to Changbin for him to high-five.

“What if we did it with an,” Chan hesitates, tilting his head at the screen to try and ease out the right words, “unnatural sound.”

“An experiment no one else could attempt,” you mumble, not expecting him to hear. His head snaps over to you, snapping, pointing a finger, and nodding.

“Exactly.”

The boys look between each other, bobbing their heads in agreement. “We can do that,” Jisung grins.

“You know, I had a feeling you would say that,” Changbin slips his phone out of his pocket, swiftly unlocking it and opening his notes app. “So I’ve already written my verse.”

“No way,” Jisung cocks his head at him.

“Okay,” Changbin mutters, “I had verses written for all the highlighted ones.”

“You are insane,” Chan chuckles, but not in an insulting tone.

From here on out, it’s smooth sailing.

Until Jisung pats the pockets of his jeans two weeks later. “Shit,” he mutters, glancing back at the elevator you had just come from.

Midnight was around the corner and Jisung had promised Minho they’d go see the late-night showing of the latest horror film.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He turns to you with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “I think I left my phone in Chan’s room. I’m gonna be late. Minho’s gonna kill me.”

You cease his rambling by putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go get it. Just tell Minho to text me when you’re done so you can pick it up. ‘Kay?”

So what if Loba’s waiting for you at home, probably pawing at the front door and meowing like, “I’m hungry”? You have a profound soft spot for Jisung. And not because Minho threatened you if you ever showed any disliking. Plus, Loba’s spoiled in all other walks of her life. She can handle you coming home a little later than usual for one night.

He breathes a sigh of relief, looking up at the high ceiling in some kind of grateful manner. “You are a lifesaver, Y/N.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you smile, starting back to the elevator as he continues his path.

The company is rather unsettling without its daytime bustle. It’s even worse on the eighth floor. A usual ghost-town, except with an increased darkness and an odd chill trailing down your back.

The hallways feel stuffy as you get close to Chan’s office, your gaze set ahead. A sniffling sound seeps into your range of hearing, though you don’t think much of it. You can get colds in summer.

Naive to think a man as esteemed as Mr. Bang would succumb to a measly cold.

As you sneak your head between the cracked door, placing your hand around its width and slightly pushing forward, the view sends your heart crashing into your stomach. Chan’s head is lowered, either hand cupping his head as incessant tears drip from his nose.

Awkwardly stepping forward, you clear your throat.

His glossy eyes, rimmed with red and slightly puffy, jump up to you. Instinctively, he attempts to discard the evidence.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he croaks, pulling his sleeve over his hand and gliding it across his damp cheek.

That’s something he could learn. If someone’s a witness, you can expect them to ease into questions. It’s only nature.

“Do you need a hug?” you attempt. Don’t be forward, don’t be blunt, don’t be mean. Minho’s reminder blinks across your vision.

He laughs, “Maybe.”

A pitiful smile creeps onto your lips as you step around the desk. Your arms link semi-awkwardly around his shoulders. He presses his cheek against your collarbone, silently crying a little. You take careful breaths, trying to stabilize your chest for him.

“Does anyone know?” Your hand rubs soft circles against his back. He shakes his head against your body. A small hiccup shakes his frame.

“You can tell me if you want.”

“I don’t want to burden you,” he manages through his tears.

You pull back a little for him to look at you. “I will smack sense into you if you say some stupid shit like that again.” In spite of his eyes crinkling into a smile—looking at you like you’re a childhood friend who he knows like the back of his hand—you try to recover. “I swear, you won’t burden me.”

He takes in a shaky breath. A blaring thought curses the forefront of your eyes. “Do you mind if we go to my apartment, though? I have a hungry cat waiting for me.”

Your arms retreat to your sides as he nods and drags the back of his hand across either cheek. “Yeah, no problem.”

You glance over at the couch, and the object of your mission stares back at you. For a second, you swear it’s glowing gold and screaming, “Your quest ends here! Bring me to my owner!”

You shuffle for the couch and scoop it up. When Chan looks at your hand in confusion, you offer, “Jisung left it. I’m the delivery service.”

“Right.” And he smiles. Comfort engulfs your body when you notice the flood has stopped.

Since you normally walk or ride the bus to work, Chan drives. His shiny sports car looks rather alien beside your used, well-used, car.

“I should warn you,” you turn to him as you push your key into the lock, “Loba’s a cuddler.”

“Sweet. I’d feel bad asking you for more hugs,” he jokes.

Sure enough, Loba is lying before the door. She scrambles to her feet and stares up at her guardian and the new intruder. Conveniently misplacing her cries for food, she scopes out the new man.

“What’d you say her name was again?” Chan asks, squatting in front of her and scratching behind her ears.

“Loba,” you say, opening the fridge to dish out Loba’s expensive special food. Adopting a cat with stomach issues, am I right?

“Loba?” Chan repeats, stifling a laugh.

“I didn’t name her,” you turn to him in defense.

Chan lowers himself, crossing his legs as Loba climbs into his lap. The love-hungry cat doesn’t even notice when you set her ceramic bowl next to her water station. She’s too absorbed in her newfound friend.

Rather than forcing them to relocate to the couch, you sit offset from them on the tile. Smiling down at the orange cat, you admit, “She’s not even like this with Minho.”

“Really?” Chan’s amused face stuns a vibration in your chest.

You appeal confirmation.

“That’s crazy. I’m a dog person, normally,” he coos down at the lovebug.

Don’t let this distract you from the task at hand, you remind yourself.

“So,” you drag. How do you say this without tempting the tears again? Admittedly, it would be nice if you had an ounce of insight. You’re walking into a minefield without a blueprint of where they lie.

Chan sighs, acknowledging his cue. “My dad doesn’t really like me all too much,” he wryly laughs.

“He seems stupid then,” you offer, not thinking further than trying to comfort him, “You’re very likable.”

“Thank you,” Chan drags his tongue against his bottom lip.

He continues, “Moreso, he dislikes his father. The one who skipped a generation when trying to continue his legacy. By association, I kind of take the brunt of it.” He looks at you through blurry eyes as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you were the only person who could have continued the company. Your dad seems,” you hesitate, “insolent. You, on the other hand, are an ace.”

“I try to tell myself that. He makes me go to all of his business parties to keep his reputation up, as well as mine in a way. You don’t want the broken family running a huge corporation,” he mimics what he’s been told.

“So you can’t tune him out,” you echo.

“Yep,” he drags the word out, prompting a heavy sigh.

“I’m not really good at the whole comforting thing,” you study the creases of your palms. “But I’ll say that you are, by far, the most amazing person I could work for. You’re really admirable. Plus, Minho really likes you. You’re kind of like the brother he never had.”

“God, you’re gonna make me cry,” he laughs, staring up at the light as he pulls a hand away from Loba to wipe at his waterline.

“I’m serious,” you chuckle. “Would I blow smoke up your ass if you’re crying on my floor with my cat in your arms?”

When he hesitates to respond, you do it for him. “The answer is no. I don’t even do that for Minho.”

“That’s comforting,” he admits.

“I’d hope so. Now, hand me your phone,” you stick your hand out.

“Why?”

“So I can give you my number. Text me if stuff goes downhill, now that I’m in the loop.”

He looks at you quizzically.

“What? Do you think I’m going to let you suffer in silence now that I know?”

He leans to the side, cradling Loba protectively, as he draws his phone from his pocket. Unlocking it before he hands it to you.

As you type in a new contact, you say, “Do you want something to eat? I can order a pizza.”

vi.

Unfortunately, peace is temporary. Always and forever.

When you enter Chan’s office a few weeks after the father debacle, prepared to start the official recording of the album as decided on the previous day, you’re met with two confused men. Admittedly, you’re a little late, but not enough for them to be lost.

Changbin looks up at you as you cross the threshold. “Have you seen Chan?”

You shake your head.

“Heard from him?” Jisung follows.

Again, you shake your head.

“Shit,” they both fall back against the couch cushions in defeat.

“What’s wrong?” The grip on your bag tightens. Despite your inquisitive words, your gut gives you a fair answer.

“We haven’t heard from him since five this morning,” Changbin looks at Jisung for confirmation on the details.

“No one’s seen him?” you follow up.

“No one. He won’t answer our group chat either.”

Your foot taps against the floor as you try to remain composed. He texted you last night about his dad’s upcoming gala but was sparse about details. Or about the fact he would straight up disappear. Obviously, you can’t offer this information to them. A promise is a promise, even if half unspoken.

“Should we work through it? Get his parts whenever he decides to show up?” Changbin speaks.

“We can’t exactly meander anymore. Tracklist goes out at noon,” Jisung shakes his phone as annoyingly clear evidence.

“And you still need to learn the choreo for the title track,” you add. There’s only a month left. You bite your tongue, allowing the pain to slightly calm you down.

“God, what horrible timing,” Jisung laughs, but no joy laces through his tone.

You point harsh eyes at them, heavy steps leading you to the microphone stand designated for recording. “Come on then. Let’s get ahead before we can fall behind.”

vii.

You leave work the moment recording is done for the day, a discovery pulling you from focusing on anything else. Chan shared his location with you a few days ago when he offered a reciprocal to what you’ve done for him. “So you can always find me,” he said via text.

Though not for the right purpose, per se, you’re going to find him. And when you do, you might have to smack sense into him this time. With love, you convince yourself as you pull up to the stadium.

Who in their right mind rents an indoor stadium for an evening party? Rich people, evidently.

You find Chan’s car, among its shiny counterparts, and park as close to it as you can. As you get out, you pull your phone out of your pocket and call him. Not expecting him to answer, honestly.

“Hello?” his voice penetrates your ears.

“I’m outside,” you say, fighting the heavy heartbeat echoing in your head. Your hands tremble at the thought of him here, all dressed up and acting like nothing’s wrong.

“What?” he mumbles.

You look up to the big screen above the gate. “Gangnam Public Stadium, right?”

The background noise slightly fades as he says, “Wait where you are, I’ll come meet you.”

“Parking lot,” you offer before he hangs up.

You step into the shade and lean against a brick wall.

Today’s one of the finer days of summer. It’s mid-June. The solstice is just around the corner. A light breeze brushes against your skin and gently ruffles your hair. It probably helps that you’re surrounded by wealthy cars. A mood booster, in a weird way.

Quick, heavy steps draw closer. You turn your head to the source.

Chan drops his hands onto his knees as he pants. “You shouldn’t be here,” he manages.

“You should’ve told someone why you wouldn’t be at work. We all have our regrets,” you nibble on the inside of your cheek as you stare at him.

“God,” he mutters, straightening himself before standing next to you against the wall.

“You’ll get your suit dirty,” you comment, but he doesn’t care.

“You should leave.” His eyes, heavy with an emotion akin to irritation and sadness, scan over your face.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me why you did this,” you stand your ground. Just like Minho would hate in a moment like this. “To get to a person, you have to ease them into it,” he guided at one point. Frankly, you couldn’t care less right now.

He avoids your eyes as he tries to flatten his staggered breathing. In due time, he composes himself and finally looks at you. His features have loosened, and you note his brow is no longer creased.

“I didn’t want to lose my cool in front of them,” he admits.

“Scared to?”

He nods. “It was scary enough having one person see me cry.”

The place between your heart and ribs begins to pulsate heat.It begins to spread across your bones and through your muscles. For once, you have to think about what to say next. You can’t be mad at him, for his reasoning makes more sense than it had before. God, this is irritating.

“Let’s make the song of the summer, then,” you reassure him with a curt nod. “Pull you out of this monster field around you and let’s make history.”

The dark surrounding encasing him cracks away as an unbelievable smile finds its place. One like you have never seen. One that pierces your heart with its joy. “Let’s do it.” And he drags you into a hug. Despite the roles taking a quick turn, you feel comforted. But he’s squeezing the life out of you.

viii.

You’ve done all you can do for 3Racha within the next week. The album is complete, as far as instrumentals and lyrics. All that’s left is promotion, along with all the theatrical elements left to be discussed. But that’s separate from you.

It feels bittersweet that it’s come to an end. You know that sometime in the future you’ll return to the studio with them, working alongside creative geniuses to invent a piece. Together. That’s the key. But it feels so far away.

You sit in your empty office, staring at the broad window as raindrops fall down the glass. Recounting the process in your head with distant gratitude. Title track: God’s Menu. You’re proud of it, viewing it as your child. Watching it grow into a real song, with real words and sounds attached to it. Wow. You catch a glimpse at the meaning of life as you watch two raindrops race down. It’s this: blossoming art from a tiny idea. Admittedly not entirely your own, but the principle remains.

The other tracks enlist an equal amount of precious memories for you. Late nights felt normal with the unreal energy coursing through your veins. You notice the products of effort as you consider all those extra hours. Admiration shoots through your body, leaving it numb.

It was all them, though, you acknowledge. You were only there as a caretaker, offering your own hint to mark the music.

3Racha is like a shooting star. It's fantastic, in a sense. Not everyone can say they’ve seen a shooting star in the same way not many can say they’ve witnessed the production process with three of the most talented producers in the game. They’re unreal.

A knock against your doorframe shocks you out of your thoughts. You drag your foot against the floor to turn your chair.

Chan, dressed in an outfit similar to that of boys’ night, awaits your attention. Sweat lines his forehead, glistening his skin. You can guess where he’s been.

“Hey.”

“I need your help.” His words were trailing your simple greeting so close you could say he interrupted you. Seriousness brings his face into a dimness, slightly intimidating you.

“With?” you prompt.

He leans against the frame with his arm, replaying his words in his head over and over before spitting them out, “I kind of told my dad I’d bring a date to his next party.”

“Oh?” you say, slowly realizing. “Oh.”

“Will you do it?” His features twist into a nervous reflection.

“Sure, if you pay for my outfit.”

You say this as a joke, but he fails to convey it this way. “Deal. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Does Loba need a cat tree by any chance?”

He doesn’t await your answer as he slips back into the hall. Was that conversation even real?

An indistinguishable whiplash conquers your body into a sudden realization. You turn to your desk, scooping your phone into your hands and texting Minho, beginning with, “When you see this…”

ix.

Certainly, Chan is a man of his word. From the mere month you’ve known him, you should have gathered this. But as you stand in his living room, decked out in some outfit he carefully chose for you, it blares against all of your senses in bright, evident clarity.

Minho’s message buzzes against your palm.

Lee Knows: Loba’s conked already, two minutes after she ate. Have fun ;)

You: Lol thanks again for taking care of her.

Lee Knows: Of course. Anything for my bestest friend in the world. Now, a night of yearning!

The only way to describe this feeling rooted in the base of your stomach are the words: raw emotion. It’s a cluster. Jitters mixed with a blend of uncertainty and a weird elation? To be fair, you are about to lie your way through expensive drinks and hors d’oeuvres. What even are those?

Regardless, one thing is certain. Minho was right. It’s...discouraging to admit. Frankly, you’d ignore it for as long as possible if you could. But adoration is difficult. In your face. Forward, some would refer to it as.

God, this is all Minho’s fault.

“Ready?” Chan’s shoes click against the hardwood as he departs from his dark hole of a room. He looks stunning, though his attire isn’t much different from his office wear. A small sign of rebellion appears in his appearance, which ignites a flame in your chest.

Chan brings a hand to where your eyes are burning a whole into—his hair. The curls are there, less accentuated than bro night, but evident. “Ah, I didn’t really want to straighten it. I’ve already had fried hair one too many times in my life.”

“It looks nice,” you smile. Your throat tightens as you swallow. “You look nice.”

“Same for you,” he allows a prolonged scan of you. Sheepishly, you do one of those cheesy twirls you always see in the romance movies before Prom night or whatever expensive evening the protagonists are attending. Sincerely, with all the love rampaging through your chest, you’re going to kill Minho for cursing your life like this.

He snaps out of his trance, starting for the door. “We should get going.”

Aside from the quiet hum of the radio, the ride to the venue is silent. It wouldn’t be complete without hitting every redlight, either. Jisung’s luck must have rubbed off on you when you had that group hug.

You sit at one now, red gleaming against your face as you stare out at the sidewalk vacant of pedestrians. No one’s even at any of the other lights.

“You okay?” Chan asks.

“Yeah,” you turn back to him.

“Good,” he nods, instantly averting your eyes.

Perhaps you should have found a way to decline. Even Loba would have been a better date option. At least she has chemistry with him.

To no one’s surprise, the venue is huge. Potentially larger than the stadium. From ceiling to the carpeted floor, decorated properly with the black tie theme.

Chan reluctantly grabs your hand before you tackle the crowd. If you were cold, the warmth radiating against your palm is sufficient for heating the rest of your body. Unluckily, though, you aren’t cold. Your hand feels clammy in his. If he wasn’t attracted to you before, he certainly isn’t now.

You stare at your shoes as you follow.

“Just a heads up about my dad,” he glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re still there, despite the tether between you, “he most definitely thinks we’re dating, so be prepared for questions.”

“Oh great,” you mumble. How do you cure a lovesick heart? What an ambiguous question offering up to a plethora of potential answers. One incorrect answer, though: acting out romance. In real time, too.

“Sorry, I probably should have told you sooner. Kind of slipped my mind,” he squeezes your hand in apology.

Even when you break out into a free space, his hand doesn’t pull from yours. Instead, he slightly tightens the hold as he approaches an older man. Without any prior knowledge (ie. not Googling his dad after he cried on your kitchen floor over the bastard), you could guess this is his dad. They practically have the same face. Striking differences, however, given some context.

“Hey,” the man grins, eyes shifting curiously between you and his son.

You dip your head in respect. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Bang.”

His hand claps your shoulder as you look up. “You don’t have to be so formal with me.” Silence hangs onto the end of his sentence as he glances at Chan for help.

“Y/N,” Chan offers. Your name sounds pretty coming from him.

“Y/N,” his father repeats. You want to sock him for saying your name.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Would have been nicer if Chan had given a little notice,” he laughs for you, alternatively offering a subtle, but not unnoticeable, glare to Chan.

Reflexively, your unoccupied hand clenches until you feel your nails pressing sharply into your skin. Discreetly, you nudge Chan’s arm with your elbow as a sign that you’re here. Slightly, his hand loosens in yours as his nerves slowly ease.

“Sorry, it’s kind of recent,” Chan laughs. His eyes crinkle into a faux delight.

“Of course,” his father nods. “Haven’t seen any articles about it yet, which is good. You might not want this being exposed to the GP.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Chan manages through gritted teeth, albeit hidden in a way only you could notice.

Then, as if the attack didn’t have a cooldown, he reaches up and tugs at one of Chan’s curls. “Your hair looks...interesting.”

It’s really difficult trying to remain neutral in the face of backhanded advice and compliments. Especially in front of this man, who shouldn’t even be given a title as esteemed as that. He’s scum stuck to the back of your old, rusty car that won’t go away in spite of however many power washes.

“Mr. Bang,” a waiter appears behind him, stealing his attention long enough for you to drag Chan in the opposite direction. He’ll find his way into a business conversation soon anyway. With no recollection of what he said to his son whatsoever. Considering his words will always stick with Chan, your face heats up.

You ignore Chan’s repelling tug, and his words that go in one ear and out the other. A hidden area near the bar is the only place where he has enough courage to stop you. But only because you let it happen.

“If we stayed there much longer, I would have caught an assault charge,” you huff.

“You handled it well, though,” he admits, “Even if you were about to break my hand.”

In the face of anger personified, he manages to smile and crack a laugh.

“Sorry,” you mumble, finally pulling your hand away from his.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asks, glancing back at the bartender serving an established looking woman a margarita. Likely strawberry from its tint.

You shake your head, “I’m good. Thank you.”

“Well, then, I’ll be back,” he reaches out to rub your shoulder before slipping back into the crowd. You’re jealous of the effect he has to just become invisible.

You pull your phone from its hidden spot and open Minho’s awaiting text.

Lee Knows: Has he made a move yet?

You: Why would he?

Lee Knows: Idk you’re kind of obvious.

Before you can answer, an incoming notification from Seungmin pops up.

Seungmo: Is it true that you like Chan?

Minho. Lee Minho. You grimace.

You: No comment.

Seungmo: Sweet. Jeongin owes me twenty bucks. But ew. Who would romantically like Chan?

The text really ties together with the barfing emoji.

“Who’s that?” the subject of both text logs peeks his head over your phone.

You snatch it back, instinctively turning it off. “Seungmin.”

“I didn’t know you were friends with him,” Chan observes, placing the black straw between his lips. His drink is also tinted pink, but not in a margarita glass.

“Minho built the bridge during bro night. Now we plot behind his back,” you joke, promptly making Chan choke. He coughs, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he sputters.

“Don’t do that when I’m drinking!” he laughs.

Your chest heaves as you try to stifle the laugh building up in your chest.

“Oh come on, you’re even gonna have the nerve to laugh at me?” he tips his head to look at your quivering frame. He finds this funny, but he can’t just not tease you. That’s not in the rule book.

“I’m not laughing,” you try to convince him, lips pressed into a fine line as quick breaths leave your nose.

“Right,” he rolls his eyes.

If he were being honest with you, he was doing this as a ploy to take your mind off of his dad. Honesty isn’t one of his finer points, though. So he stays quiet.

“Do you want a sip?” he offers the fruity looking drink to you.

“What is it?” you ask, but accepting the glass anyway.

“Just a strawberry mimosa.”

Again, if he were honest, he’d tell you he only got it to share with you. It was a shot in the dark, neutral enough. But, again, not one of his stronger urges. Minho would refer to this as him ‘making a move’, unbeknownst to you.

You take a quick sip. Humming in approval, you hand it back to him. “It’s good, I can barely even taste the alcohol.”

He fixes his hair absentmindedly as a passing conversation arises. Subject: Minho. Goal: offering both parties ammunition for his next offhand comment or prank.

“Did you know that Minho talks in his sleep?” you laugh.

Chan pulls at a curl, pulling it straight. “He seems like the type.”

You reach up and flick his wrist.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Stop thinking about what your dad said,” you scold. The nerves in your stomach dissipate as your hand ruffles his hair, fluffing it out. He looks more relaxed as you pull away.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t apologize, or I’ll punch you next time.”

“I can see why you and Minho get along so well.”

xi.

By the time you’re set free from the hell of socializing with all of Chan’s dad’s friends who last saw him when he was ‘this high’, the effects of the single mimosa wear off. Luckily for Chan, you drank most of it, so he’s set to drive.

“My feet hurt,” you complain. Maybe it would have been smart to break in the fancy shoes Chan invested for you before the event.

“Do you want me to carry you?” Chan asks, turning to you.

Against all voices inside of you screaming to decline, your pain receptors answer for you. “That’d be great, since you're offering.”

He bends his knees slightly and holds his arms slightly out. When you jump onto his back, he doesn’t even react.

“Do you religiously workout or something?” you joke, though true curiosity shines through your words. You’re pretty obvious.

“Duh. Every breathing moment I’m not working or crying over my dad. It’s a stress reliever.” Your arms, hanging from his neck, feel each vibration in his chest as he laughs.

As he readjusts his hands beneath your thighs, maintaining a steady hold of your body against his, your body grows warm and you can envision your cheeks glowing red. Minho was so right. And the field day he’s going to have with the upcoming weeks until the joke grows stale. You shiver at the thought.

“Are you cold?” Chan asks.

“Oh, no, I was just thinking about Minho.”

“Scary,” Chan mimics his own shiver at the mention.

You press your cheek against his shoulder, his steady steps drawing your eyes shut.

The silence you find is unparalleled to the one in the car earlier. This one is comfortable, homely even. So much so that you feel yourself fall asleep.

xii.

When you get to his apartment, he nudges your shoulder.

Your eyes slowly open, fighting against the dull light from the roof of his car.

“You can spend the night at my house. I’m not confident in pulling a sleeping body out of a car. Putting you in was hard enough,” he chuckles.

You manage a smile and hazily push the passenger door open. From the rest, your feet should be fine walking to the elevator (since there’s one less body than bro night, you’ll fit) and to his apartment. Still, he wraps his arm around your shoulders to steady you all the way up to his front door.

“I’ll grab you some clothes,” he says as you fall onto his couch. You didn’t acknowledge how comfortable it was just from sitting on it. Honestly, it feels like a normal mattress.

He returns from his room quickly with a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. Both black, as you could have guessed.

You walk to the bathroom and sleepily tug your fancy outfit off, careful not to ruin it. As you pull his shirt over your head, a rush of his cologne hugs you. You fight off the ‘I could get used to this’ comment that floats through your head.

You don’t remember walking back to the couch. But you remember Chan pulling a blanket up to your chin.

xiii.

Chan pokes your cheek, drawing you away from your precious dream of living in a cottage on the seafront—conveniently with him. You whine, pulling the blanket over your head in an attempt to ward him away. Dream Chan is waiting for you.

“Y/N, come on. You can’t sleep on my couch all day.” The worst part is: you can hear the faux pout in his voice. And potentially worse: you definitely could sleep on this couch all day if your life depended on it. Even if it didn’t, to be honest.

“Go away,” you grumble.

He sighs. His presence beside you disappears for a few moments, long enough for sleep to momentarily return. The bubble of peace pops eventually.

“Hey, Minho,” his voice returns, slightly muffled by the distance and the cloth pressed against your ear.

This is enough to spring liveliness into your bones. You sit up, hateful eyes shooting in the direction of the voice. When you see him laughing, his dark phone pressed against his ear, you reel. “One of these days, I’m gonna leave your company and then your stocks are gonna plummet,” you groan.

“Is that the best insult you can come up with?” he counters, dropping his hoisted arm to his side.

“I have more, but they're still closed off. You know, since you’ve rudely interrupted my sleep.”

“I’m sorry. Not really, though. It’s like noon.”

“And?”

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he laughs.

“What, do you have a date to attend?”

Awaiting his response, you reach for your phone on the coffee table. Two missed calls. A few Snapchats from Seungmin, likely pictures of his new puppy, but no matter.

“I wish. I have to meet up with Jisung. Pressing news he has to tell me, too confidential to be told over text.”

“He’s gonna confess,” you shoot him a look.

“Yes, because Han Jisung would be in love with me,” he starts for the kitchen. An extended arm pulls at the fridge, and he pulls two waters out.

“To be fair, if I were Jisung, I’d probably be in love with you,” you say, obviously without much thought behind it.

Okay. In your defense, you were a little too focused on reading Minho’s latest string of confusing messages. Trying to decipher the code, Chan’s response passes right through you like a ghost.

Lee Knows: Y/N you won’t believe this.

Lee Knows: Loba’s gonna be so happy.

Lee Knows: I know you’re probably cuddled up with Chan or whatever but call me ASAP.

Chan lowers himself beside you, tossing the cold water in your lap. He peeks over your shoulder. “Huh. That’s pretty much what Jisung said to me.”

“Why are you invading my privacy?” you glare at him, considering elbowing him precisely between the ribs. Ultimately deciding against it, of course. Through tense internal conflict.

“Really? You’re sitting on my couch, in my clothes, refusing to leave, and you wanna talk about privacy?”

Just because he has a point doesn’t mean he should voice it. Plus, he offered the clothes. And the couch for you to sleep on. It really just seems like a self jab to you.

“Should I call him?” Your finger glides across your bottom lip as you look at him for an answer.

“Sure, why not?” he throws his hands up in defeat. “Let’s see what Jisung and Minho have conspired this time.”

The ring echoing sparks a nervous pit in your stomach. You pick at the sticker of the water bottle. It feels like forever by the time he answers.

“Morning, sunshine,” Minho’s sweet voice reeks of sarcasm.

“You’re on speaker, by the way,” you close your eyes to avoid looking at Chan’s burning eyes.

“Oh perfect, you are too,” Jisung joins in, a dry laugh escaping his throat.

“We have some questions,” Minho begins, but fails to continue.

“Such as?” Chan prompts.

“Are you guys dating yet?” Jisung bluntly jumps to the case.

Your heart rams against your chest. That ‘yet’ tugs at your insides.

“Uh, no,” you draw out.

“The media sure thinks otherwise,” Minho jabs.

Chan’s already searching for the articles by the time you can react.

“Fuck.” He throws his head back against the couch in frustration, tilting his phone towards you so you can see.

CEO Bang Chan Lands a Date Weeks Before Comeback.

Bang Caught With Employee?

Bang Chan, CEO, Makes a Striking Appearance at Dad’s Gala.

“What? Did you really think there wouldn’t be journalists there? Come on Chan, do better.” You never knew Jisung had this cutting edge to him. If the words were aimed at you, you know you’d break down. It’s a miracle that Chan is this composed.

“Can you calm down? My god,” you say without realizing. “It’s not like we can’t fix this.” How, though, you ponder?

“If it makes you feel any better,” Minho reluctantly says, like this sentence could put his life on the line, “you looked cute.”

“Thanks,” you mutter. In any other circumstance, you’d be quick to mock him. Well. At least he’s not outwardly making fun of you. Another one of Minho’s late night insights seeping into your thoughts: see the positive.

A text notification drops down against your screen. Despite having the luxury of using his voice, it’s Minho.

Lee Knows: Would now be a bad time to out you?

You: Horribly.

“Well,” Jisung draws in a sharp breath.

“Good luck,” Minho finishes for him.

After he hangs up, promptly after letting you know he fed Loba this morning, you pick up the water bottle and place it against your cheek. The shocking chill redirects your nerves momentarily.

You try not to look at Chan, but you know he’s looking at you.

After a moment to catch your breath, he sighs, “I have an idea.”

It takes an effort to pull your attention to him. A war against yourself.

“Play along with me for a second,” he says, pulling his leg beneath him as he repositions himself beside you. Fully facing you, taking in your entire being—which doesn’t help your burning skin. You’d give anything to be invisible right now.

“What if,” he starts, “we go along with it?”

You laugh in his face. “Are you sure that wouldn’t blow up even worse? Imagine people finding out we faked it. That wouldn’t be good for you.”

He messes with his fingers, suddenly finding an intense interest in the linework of them. He rubs his thumb against the crease of his ring finger. “I don’t think anyone would have to find out it’s fake, per se.”

“How are you so confident?” You look at him in awe. Even when he’s spewing absolute nonsense and under pressure, he looks like a god. Calm as ever. It’s horrifying for your heart. And for common sense, but that’s not as important right now.

“I don’t think Minho would lie to me.”

“What does Minho have to do with this?”

His dimple shows itself as a measly smile crosses his lips. “He may have told me.”

Regardless of what he may have spilled, you know instantly. “You’re kidding me,” you huff. What was the point of his dramatic message, then? A distraction, maybe.

“I mean it’s okay. It’s not like it’s not reciprocated or anything.”

“You are unbelievable,” you shake your head. “How did you know and not say a single thing?”

His hands shoot up in defense. “To be fair, I didn’t find out until after you fell asleep last night. For the second time. He texted me with this whole ‘I know something you don’t’ facade. I wasn’t going to act on it until I had a stupidly romantic plan, but then this happened,” he gestures around the room, as if it’s the decor’s fault. He’s quick to add, “And I couldn’t do that as soon as they said anything about the articles. That’d kinda ruin the mood, don’t you think?”

So Chan’s probably not good with looking amazing under pressure—he very well could be, but you wouldn’t know that right now. Which slightly irritates you, but no matter.

“Well,” you sigh. “I guess that solves the problem.”

He nods, looking at you solemnly.

“Your dad’s gonna be pissed, though,” you comment, and he laughs.

“I know.”

Funny. As soon as the problem jumped at you, the imminent solution scared you just as fast. Your head hurts from the whiplash. That must be a pattern with him.

“You know what’s kinda perfect about this?” he says after a moment.

“Tell me.”

“We can write love songs together now. Isn’t that cool?” The sheer joy in his face shatters any aggravation left in your veins. A smile creeps up on you.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“And you’re madly in love with a nerd so I don’t see what your point is.”

You pull the pillow out from behind your back and chuck it at his head.

“Oh so you’re trying to kill your beloved love interest? Real classy, Y/N.”

“Please just shut up and kiss me already,” you lean over halfway and wait for him to meet you.

Kissing a major CEO doesn’t feel much different than kissing a normal person, but there’s a striking flare of passion to it. Maybe that’s a personal thing.

His lips fit against yours in a way that makes your soul instantly tethered to him. You hope he can’t feel your heartbeat against your lips, for it’s pulsing rather loud and antsy for you.

Chan radiates warmth in every piece of his body, extending all the way to his aura. If it wasn’t for your pesky lungs running out of air, you’d never pull away.

xiv.

In spite of his idea for a romantic confession going down the drain as soon as he decided to think one up, he makes up for it with incessant gestures. Bringing you snacks when he should be in meetings. Buying you sweets when you get stressed. Purchasing Loba a huge cat tree, even though she doesn’t need to be spoiled further. Spending the night at your house even when his is way more comfortable for the sheer reason that Loba would feel lonely.When you mention taking her with you, he’d say, “I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable with the new environment.”

He even postponed bro night because you got sick and wanted to be the one to take care of you.

You don’t need reminders that he loves you, but it’s all the while heartwarming when he says it.

Even now, with his arm wrapped around your waist and his chin propped on your shoulder, he’s thinking aloud in romance land. “What if we went on a vacation to France for Christmas? Isn’t Paris the city of love?”

You watch the TV, but his voice drowns out all of the dialogue. “I don’t know, Chan. Why can’t we stay here?” you shift in his arms to roll over and face him. This close, as you’ve grown accustomed to these past months, you can count all of his eyelashes. And you can see tiny freckles scattered across his cheeks. It must be an Aussie thing.

He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “We can stay here. I’m fine with that.”

Loba jumps onto the bed, her collar jingling with her sudden movement to warn you she’s arrived. You pull away from Chan a little to make room for her between you. “Here comes the princess,” you feign disappointment with a sigh.

She claims her spot between your chests and curls herself into a ball, burying her face in Chan’s chest. Per usual. She often forgets who feeds her around here.

“Anyway,” Chan leans over her, kissing your lips gently, “I’m okay wherever. As long as you’re with me.”

After a beat of silence, you cup his cheek delicately and say, “Let’s go to the moon.”

“Yeah,” he grins, “Let’s go to the moon.”

xv.

He leans over and presses a kiss to your temple, setting a bottle of water in front of you.

Jisung gags from across the room. “Get a room,” he complains.

“You are a grown man and you can’t handle a couple being affectionate?” Changbin criticizes. “Get a life, dude.”

“Yeah,” you chime in, “Just ‘cos you live a poor, single life doesn’t mean you can hate on us.”

“Jeez, I didn’t sign up for slander on this Monday morning.”

“You definitely asked for it, but let’s get to work.” Chan draws his phone from his pocket and prepares for the official meeting regarding 3Racha’s next comeback.

God’s Menu was well received from the public, sending Chan’s dating scandal into the shadows. Minho basked in the compliments on the choreography. Seungmin whined when no one on Twitter noticed he was the vocal coach—and Minho didn’t make it much better by rubbing his glory in Seungmin’s face every chance he got. And you couldn’t get Chan to stop showing you funny Tweets and praise for nearly a month. Likely longer.

Here you sit in Chan’s office at the beginning of the new year. A lot of things can go south during six months, but things can shoot north too. Generally, for you, it’s been pretty north.

This time around, Jisung has calculated his homework and broadcasts his thoughts onto the wall.

“I already know what you’re gonna choose for the title track, so let’s choose B-sides,” he adds the disclaimer before anyone can mutter a peep.

“I don’t know about you all,” Chan dips his hands into the pockets of his trousers and leans against his desk, “but I’d say I’m pretty confident in writing a love song right now.”

You groan alongside Jisung. “Stop talking.”

Here we go on the hunt for the song of the new year. Conquer the competition before anyone has a chance. Like you did in creating the song of the summer.

#skz au #skz imagine #skz chan #skz #stray kids chan #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #chan x reader #chan au #bang chan x reader #stray kids au #stray kids scenario #bang chan #skz bang chan #chan oneshots #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot

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lord-explosion-baku · 3 years

Text

Trident Tale part 2

Mermaid!Shinsou x reader x Kirishima x reader

Warnings: adult themes (minors DNI)

Author’s note: sorry to those of you who have asked me to put on the tag list! I don’t do tag lists! But if you don’t want to lose this story, you can always bookmark it on AO3.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Original image by @maewoahoah

Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.

You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.

You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.

The thing about being hungry is that you can sometimes convince yourself that you’re full. You can sip water, swallow your breath, pop a few mints in—hell, you could even pretend to eat. However, even if you might trick your brain, your stomach will still be empty.

By the time you finally get some real goddamn food in your stomach, it will be aching from being teased.

It feels like this is exactly what Hitoshi Shinsou has done to you. Teased you. He’d mentioned being one of Ryūjin, which you can only assume is something religious or magic. You know he’s a fish, and that he makes people’s skin glow when he touches them, and apparently his lips or his saliva can heal wounds. But he’s not yet given you any real goddamn food.

The jerk has been swimming circles around the pool, commenting on how disgusting it is being stuck with all the trash, and complaining about your poor hospitality, but has not yet told you what the hell he’s doing here.

It’s not like you ever asked for some creature to crash into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool. Maybe some people would be ecstatic over finding an actual merperson, but life isn’t all about singing songs and talking to seagulls. He’s definitely not an Ariel, unless he is in fact looking for a prince. With all his sass, you think he’s much more of an Ursula than a Disney princess. If he is a sea-witch, he refuses to tell you.

It won’t matter much by the time Denki gets here anyways. You had been honest when you said you wouldn’t put it against him to call some news station when he sees Hitoshi. You figure that after some science lab’s helicopters carried your intruder away to run tests on him, the fish-man will be out of your hair and a thing of the past.

Despite the cynicism crawling through your head, the thought actually makes a guilty pit form in the bottom of your stomach. A life is a life, afterall.

“At least tell me why you tried to…to…” Your mouth flattens when you recall Hitoshi leaning into you, his lips a whisper away from yours.

“To?” Hitoshi asks while he observes the wayward bra that blew into the pool with notable repulsion.

“To kiss me!” You bark out, ears warm.

“Oh, that?” He purses his lips, spinning the bra around in the water. Then, he’s contemplative for a moment, as if he’s thinking of an excuse that won’t make you angry. Or will. He seems to get a kick out of frustrating you.

“I suppose I should’ve considered that it’s not a social norm for humans to greet other humans with their lips,” he says with a cocky, probably lying smirk. “My bad.”

“You expect me to believe that mermaids kiss each other to say hello?”

“Not a mermaid.” The fish is all teeth as he regards you. “I’m one of Ryūjin. And I’d like to think that you’d believe anything I tell you, since you seem to know nothing about my people.”

“Because you won’t tell me anything about your people,” you mutter right before the house bell rings. Your heart jumps with a spike of panic. You haven’t thought about what you’re going to say to Denki yet. You begin thinking about science labs again, and that knot in your stomach tightens.

“Okay,” you say in a warning tone, “I’m gonna let Denki in now…”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s gonna see you…”

“That’s the plan.” Hitoshi lifts a brow. “You’re not worried for me, are you?”

“I just think you should be more worried about yourself,” you say. “Humans aren’t…” There’s a pensive pause when you try to search for the right word. “Humans aren’t good.”

“Would you say that you’re a good human?” He asks.

What a question. You’d like to believe that you are, but you can’t kid yourself. Never one to be very self-sacrificing, you utter your next words with confidence. “Nope.”

“And yet, you haven’t done anything malicious towards me. Nothing, besides that half-assed attempt to kick me away from you, anyways.”

Rolling your eyes to keep your couldn’t-care-less facade up, you left the smirking merman to wade around in the murky pool. There’s not another second to think about what you could possibly say to Denki about your surprise guest, because when you enter the house, you see his face peeking through the side window next to the front door. You could see a drink holder and a Tiki Burger bag in his hand. His smile is bright, while yours is grim.

He pouts, seeing through forced body language, and proceeds to make a funny face. You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. You might not be a good person, but Denki is. He’s an idiot, but you don’t think he’d ever do anything to harm another creature, mythical or not. This could even be fun to him. Exciting. Something extraordinary happened, and you’d been too scared to react to it appropriately, but Denki would be different.

Your changing emotions grow palpable when you finally reach for the handle.

“Heard you had some thingies that needed twisting,” Denki says as you open the door. He’s wearing his company’s shirt, a brown thing with the PoolPros logo on it, though it’s cut raggedly short to show off his midriff. He’s been particularly confident ever since he’d gotten his navel pierced, and happily showed off the topaz stone that Kirishima had given him. It hangs right above his buckle. It forces onlookers to look at his abs…or maybe his groin. He says it’s lucky, and you haven’t argued with him about it. You would probably call something Kirishima gave you lucky too.

In a flash, you’re grabbing him by his shirt collar and guiding him in and against one of the hall mirrors.

“Something’s happened.” The words immediately spill out, even while you still do not know what you’re going to say. You hope that if the right things tumble out of your mouth, Denki will get the picture.

“Uh…” Denki’s cheeks are red hot, reacting to your close proximity. “Was it a spike in your libido?”

God.

“No, shut up!” You smack his chest and glance down the hall towards the back door. The pool isn’t in your line of vision, but just knowing what lurks there gets your blood pumping. “This is going to sound crazy, but I need you to keep an open mind.”

He bobs his brows. “For you? Always.”

After an exhale, you gather your composure, and tell Denki everything with as much eloquence as you can muster.

“There’s something living in the pool!” You bark out, erratic. “It’s big and it has zero impulse control and it’s rude! It talks! When it touches me, my skin glows. Then it tried to kiss me, Kaminari! And it’s rude!” You add that in again, because you cannot stress it enough. Hitoshi Shinsou is as unrefined as a piece of driftwood, and he had the audacity to make comments on behalf of your decorum. “It won’t tell me what it’s doing here, either. I offered to get it back into the ocean, but it said it wanted something else, but it won’t tell me what, and I don’t know what to do!”

Denki blinks rapidly, like his eyelashes are repelling every word you toss at him. There’s a beat, he swallows, then his lips tilt up into a knowing grin.

“Alright,” he says, “I see you.”

“You do?” Maybe you had to give Denki a little more credit. That hadn’t been your best description of a nightmare scenario.

“Sure do, little lady. This is some kinda belated birthday prank, huh? Thought you could slide one past me when I was least expecting it! I was thinking that maybe you just forgot about it, but now you’ve got something up your sleeve, don’t ya! Well cutie, I might be dumb, but I’m not stupid!”

Striding into the house, Denki places the shakes and burger bag onto Shuzenji’s kitchen counter. Shoulders deflating, you follow him while he fishes a few fries out of the bag. If he doesn’t get it now, he will soon enough.

“What could it be?” He ponders, tossing a fry into his mouth. He nods towards one of the cups and mumbles about a shake for you, then towards the back door. “Couldn’t be a party—it’s too early for a party. And you don’t talk to many people…”

Ignoring the slight burn, you front Denki, and extend your hand out to his. His eyes widen for a moment, he wipes his hand on his pants, and takes yours.

“I need your help, Denki. Seriously.”

“Yeah,” he says, a touch more reformative. “Okay.”

What should’ve been some grand reveal, however, turned out to be anything but.

The pool being clean is the first thing you notice, as absurd as that is. It’s now half-filled, with only sprinkles of algae leftover by some miraculous clean-up. There’s no more silver fish swimming around, and all the trash that had previously taken sanctuary in the pool now lays on a mountainous pile with the bra sitting at its peak. Your guest is no longer in the pool—the very clean pool.

Denki chuckles and says, “well, this doesn’t look bad at all. By how hysterical you were on the phone, I was expecting something much worse. Oh! Hello!”

Your jaw drops as Denki waves at Hitoshi—a very comfortable-looking Hitoshi who lounges on one of the reclining pool chairs, head turned back like he’s sun bathing, one leg crossed over the goddamn other. Legs. Attached to feet—feet that definitely were not there when you’d met him.

Tricky, magic fish-man.

“Oh,” Hitoshi says, carefully considering Denki. “We have company?”

The ‘we’ in his statement doesn’t sit right with you anymore than his appearance does. He stands, and both you and Denki gasp when you see his new outfit in its entirety. It’s all royal blue, fine silks, and sheer fabric that only covers the places that would make Denki blush. Puffy, yet flowing sleeves connect to his now two golden cuffs. A heavy gold necklace hangs around him, and he’s got a light sash thrown around mostly his bare chest. A golden, v-shaped belt holds his deep blue harem pants up.

They are the gaudiest goddamn pajamas you’ve ever seen.

Hitoshi moves like water to face Denki, then firmly grasps him by the forearm, yanking the boy forward so that their lips are mere inches away from each other. Noting that there’s no glowing from their contact, you watch as Hitoshi’s indigo eyes slide from Denki’s lips, to you, and shows off a dubious glint.

“Whoops,” Hitoshi murmurs basically into Denki’s mouth. “I almost forgot that you don’t greet people like this here.” He takes a step away and smirks. “Forgive me. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. You must be the pool guy.”

“Um, yeah. ‘M Denki Kaminari.” Denki laughs nervously. His cheeks burn red, and he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Grabbing onto your hand tightly, he starts back towards the house, towing you along, saying, “excuse us, we just have to—uh. Talk.”

In a tick, you’re whisked right back inside, in the land of private conversations.

“It didn’t look like that before, Denki. I swear to god.” You’re insisting as soon as the door is closed.

“It?!” Denki balks, his cheeks turning even more red. “Do you mean the pool or that hunk of a man hanging around your backyard?!”

“Both, I guess, but I wouldn’t call it a man! It had a giant purple tail before you showed up!!”

“That’s very rude, y’know.” Denki peers back at Hitoshi who’s lackadaisically cleaning his fingertips. “What are their pronouns?”

You imagine Hitoshi surrounded by others like him, all either screaming or clicking to communicate with each other in an inhuman language. “I don’t think pronouns matter wherever it’s from!”

“Hmm.” Denki slides the door open and pops his head out. “‘Scuse me, Hitoshi, what are your pronouns?”

Without missing a beat, Hitoshi answers him. “As in titles? You can call me Shinsou, but if you’re so inclined, I’ll allow you to call me lord.”

“Lord, of course.” More nervous laughter as Denki closes the door. “Lord. That’s a kink thing, right? It’s gotta be!”

“It’s not!” You bark, but Denki doesn’t hear you. Instead, he rushes towards one of the hall mirrors and begins fussing over his hair.

“I honestly can’t believe you did this. I mean, you, of all people. You’re braver than I gave you credit for. Coulda given me a heads up, though. I would’ve worn somethin’ nice. Or not come at all. I do feel like I’m intruding.” Denki’s eyes light up. “Unless this is for my birthday and you’re…you want me to join you?”

“You’ve lost me.” You're too busy trying to figure out what you can do to convince Denki that Hitoshi is a mermaid. You’ve considered pushing him back into the pool, but you don’t know if that would change him back to his sea-man state, or just make you look like a jackass.

“This is so weird. I haven’t seen that guy on the island before, and believe me, I know everybody. It must’ve cost a pretty penny to get him here. On top of everything else-“ He clears his throat- “how much is this costing you? Does Shuzenji know what you get up to while she’s away?”

It hits you like a freight train. “Oh, Kaminari…No…”

“The jig is up!” Denki stomps his foot defiantly and points towards the door. “You’re paying that man for sex!”

“God no!” The very idea that you’ve paid Hitoshi to be here, to touch you, flusters the hell out of you. If anything, you’d pay for him to leave. “You’d honestly think I’d hire a prostitute?!”

“Escort is the term they are using nowadays, and no, I wouldn’t think you’d hire an escort until now!” Denki scoffs, then moves his hand through his hair, exasperated. “The thing is, babe, you don’t need to. You’re cute and fun! If you got out every once in a while…”

“Fish!” You yell, cutting him off, because you’re not about to have another conversation about your hermit lifestyle. “He’s a fish, Denki! I didn’t fuck a fish! Nor am I planning to!”

Denki blinks at you. Not like before—not like he’s reflecting your words. This blink is more like a blink one would offer someone who’d been having an otherwise normal conversation, until they started talking about the earth being flat, or homosexuals burning in a lake of fire.

I’m not crazy, you think and will Denki to believe. I’ll prove it.

Before you can give Denki a play-by-play of what happened—properly this time, and not just your rambled recall—the door slides open, and Hitoshi steps in.

“May I enter?” The regal-looking man asks.

At the exact same moment you say, “no,” Denki says, “of course.”

“I was just hoping to find something to eat.” Hitoshi stops in the kitchen, arms crossed and expectant.

“You haven’t fed your hooker?” Denki whispers and it blows your mind that he can say hooker and you can’t say prostitute. “You can have half my burger!”

“Burger,” Hitoshi repeats the unfamiliar word, and looks around, probably wondering what it could be. Denki takes the hint and proceeds to fish his meal out of the bag. Overly familiar with Shuzenji’s kitchen, he finds a knife to cut the sandwich in two, then hands one half to Hitoshi.

Hitoshi frowns.

“I’m sorry, are you a vegetarian?” Denki asks, and you can tell he’s being overly hospitable in a house that is not his. When Hitoshi doesn’t answer him, but doesn’t stop frowning, Denki asks, “do you not eat meat?”

“This is meat?” Asks Hitoshi, shaking the burger in the air. Some mayonnaise-covered lettuce falls to the kitchen floor.

“I have to clean that!” You yip and wet a paper towel. When you’re on your knees, Hitoshi gives you a smirk of indifference.

“What, do you not have hamburgers where you’re from?” Denki asks, and when Hitoshi refuses to answer him again, he says, “the meat is the patty. It’s beef.”

“Beef.” Hitoshi begins dissecting the thing, throwing the bun halves, pickles, tomato, and lettuce all on the floor. You continue to curse at him while he sniffs at the patty. “What animal is this?”

“Beef is cow, dude.” Denki sounds more skeptical now, which you’d be grateful for if you weren’t already on your hands and knees, scrubbing ketchup out of the tile. “Man, throwing food on the floor is rude no matter where you’re from. Babe, you shouldn’t have to clean that up.”

“If I don’t, who will?” You ask, sardonic.

“There’s not really a floor where I’m from,” Hitoshi says once he swallows his first bite. He places the patty back onto the burger wrap, and steps away from his mess. “At least, there’s no floor when it’s meal time. We just let shells and bones float around until they go down to where they’ll eventually break down and decay.”

Denki asks, “where did you say you were from?”

“He’s a fish, Denki.”

“I didn’t.” Hitoshi gets down on his knees with a wetted paper towel of his own. He swipes at the places you’ve missed, then looks at you. “Tell me, would a not-good person clean up a mess that isn't their own?”

“It’s kind of my job,” you retort and stand so Hitoshi can finish cleaning. Instead, he stands with you.

“And what is his job?” Hitoshi nods towards Denki who looks more and more fretful by the second. “I assume he’s here to provide services. If you’re paying him, shouldn’t he be the one to clean for you? Prepare meals for you? Bend to your whims?”

Denki says, “I’ve got a couple jobs, but I’m not a housekeeper, no.”

“No?” Hitoshi gives out a terse laugh and hands the towel off to Denki. “Clean.”

Denki looks to you for an explanation. You’re about to chew Hitoshi out, when he again says, “clean,” but this time, there’s something attached to his voice. Something that is nothing, but also more. It sends goosebumps up your arms and compels Denki to fall to the floor and obey the command.

“Yes, my lord.” When Denki finishes cleaning and throws the rest of the mess in the bin, he looks at Hitoshi, eyes glossy, waiting.

“Fetch me some water,” says Hitoshi, and after another yes, my lord, Denki begins searching for a glass.

“Quit it!” You shout and very nearly grab on to Hitoshi’s arm, stopping only when you remember the glow and the prickles that accompany his touch. Decidedly, you hurry after Denki and grab the glass from his hands and snap your fingers in front of his face.

Denki blinks, and this time it’s not because he doesn’t hear you, and it’s not because you’re spouting crazy nonsense. He blinks, and it’s a revelation.

“Hypnosis!” Denki says the word like eureka! and you want to shake him, because he should be angrier than he seems.

“I’m surprised you understand or even remember that much,” Hitoshi drawls. “You’re more in-tune than you’d like people to believe.”

And I’m Mother Teresa, you think bitterly. The fish is contemptuous as hell, but he doesn’t read people well. To him, you’re good and apparently Denki’s a genius.

“How did you do that?” Denki asks with growing excitement. “When I was a kid, I was really into magic, but could never get any of the tricks right. You didn’t use any triggering noises or images or anything.”

“There is a bit of magic about you,” Hitoshi says like he’s thinking out loud. “Not enough to pull something like what I just did off unless you have the proper tide jewel. But you do have enough power to utilize a tide jewel.”

“Don’t do that again,” you warn, and pour water from the sink into the glass. There’s purified water in the fridge, but Hitoshi hasn’t earned it. “To Kaminari or to me. The difference between a house guest and a home-invader is who does and does not use hypnosis on other guests.”

“I wasn’t aware that hypnosis is a common occurrence in your residence.” Hitoshi reaches for the glass, but you hold it away from him. Casting out a withering look, he says, “I wouldn’t be able to hypnotize him again, even if I wanted to. Not for a while, anyways. Not without my tide jewel.”

“What’s a tide jewel?” Denki asks. “Is that, like, sea glass?”

Eyes flicking from the glass of water, to Denki, then to you, Hitoshi says, “he knows how to ask a question.”

The questions that you ask get ignored! But instead of saying that, you continue to withhold the water, and say, “then answer him.”

Mildly peeved, Hitoshi turns his attention back to Denki. “You say you have a couple of jobs. What would they be?”

“That’s not answering his question,” you mutter.

“I’ll decide whether I should answer him in a moment. Denki, if you will.”

“Oh, well…” The sheepish Denki brings his hand to the back of his neck, blushing slightly. “I’ve got the PoolPros gig, and sometimes I pick shifts up at The Salty Barrel. I sort of got an affinity for making drinks…and cooking…and fixing things, so they like to keep me around.”

Unamused, Hitoshi pries. “Anything else?”

“Sometimes I pick up odd jobs. Fishing and delivery. I guess I’m pretty dependable because of the boat.”

This catches Hitoshi’s attention. “You have a boat?”

“Sure, yeah. It’s nothin’ too special yet. I’ve been working on it, and it’s coming along, but it’s not ready for what it’s truly intended for.”

“Which would be?”

Denki looks at you and winks, making your ears warm. You know exactly why he got the boat.

“Romantic rendezvous.”

“I see,” Hitoshi says pensively. Then, his eyes go sharp when he notices you fiddling with the ties on your shorts. “Are you two mates?”

Denki lifts a conspiratorial brow towards you, before throwing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his body. “Sure, yeah—we’re mates!”

You push away from him, and bite, “not those kinds of mates.”

Although nobody disagrees with you, you sense Denki sulking.

“Ah,” Shinsou muses. “You haven’t yet fought for her hand?”

Before you can groan at the idea, Denki laughs quietly, but his laughter quickly grows uproariously as he considers the idea. Soon, he’s gripping his stomach to stop himself from doubling over. You glare at his feet.

“As if there’s another guy to fight for her,” Denki bellows, wiping a tear away from his eye. “Maybe if she ever went out, but for now, the only person I gotta fight for her hand, is her!”

“Oh, I understand,” Shinsou says, eyes on you. “A battle to assert domination.”

Denki hoots loudly at the idea. “Looks like I’m screwed!”

To your growing agitation and embarrassment, Denki continues to laugh. It’s as if you’re not constantly shooting him down. You’re not pitiful. Not helpless. And you think you’d have some game if you put your heart into it. You just have a type, and the pool guy just doesn’t fit the bill, whether he’s handy or not.

There’s no humor to be found in Hitoshi’s eyes, though. He’s glaring at you, like before, only now he’s looking at you more like you’re a piece of meat—like he’s some kind of predator and you’re his newfound prey. You inadvertently step closer to Denki, as if he could be used as some sort of defense shield, then elbow him in the ribs, pretending that you’re not at all intimidated by this fish-turned-man.

“Nobody’s fighting anybody,” you say, keeping eye-contact with Hitoshi. You’ve been told before that the fact that you’re never the first to look away is a little off-putting. Hoping to have the same uncomfortable effect on your guest, you don’t even blink when you say, “I just have my eyes on someone special.”

At the same time Denki stops his laughing, Hitoshi narrows his eyes—not out of malice, but what seems to be curiosity. That’s as far as you’ll go with revealing any more personal information. You might not be physically spoken for, yet, but at least you’re emotionally unavailable. You vaguely wonder if those kinds of ideals are acknowledged by sea people.

“Yeah, Kiri,” Denki says with a roll of his eyes. So much for keeping things personal. “He’s not interested in dating anyone, though. In fact, he’s pretty much married to the ocean.”

“At least there aren’t other girls,” you say, and with a quick glance at Denki, you add, “or boys.”

Denki exaggerates a woeful, hand-over-forehead pose and cries, “at least we have each other!” Then, he places his hand back around your shoulders. Again, you scoot away from him, and this time, you catch Hitoshi’s lips quirk up, just a bit.

“Alright,” Hitoshi says. “I’ve decided.”

“Decided what?” You ask.

“That the two of you are going to help me.”

The fish-man moves to flatten the burger wrap down on the counter like a map, and proceeds to decimate the other half of Denki’s burger. Denki says, “oh that’s fine…I wasn’t that hungry anyways.”

“Help you with what!” You bark, practically starving for details. Despite Hitoshi and all that he’s done, your interest is piqued, and you feel as though you’re finally going to get to the meat of his situation.

Lining a few fries on the paper wrap, Hitoshi finally says, “a few of my worldly possessions have been stolen from me. They’ve been missing for quite a long time now, and I now plan to take them back. Four of the six items happen to be tide jewels. I figure those will be the easiest to locate and extract.”

Denki snaps his finger. “Tide jewels! That’s what we were talking about! What are those?

Dabbing his pinky into some mustard, Hitoshi says, “artistry…” He dips his ring finger into the ketchup and says, “reign…” he tears a piece of lettuce in half and says, “tide…” and finally, he rips some of the patty and says, “soul.”

“Artistry, reign, tide, soul,” Denki repeats, peeking over Hitoshi’s shoulder. “You don’t happen to be a musician, do you? A magician musician!”

“I’m a connoisseur, but not a practitioner.” Hitoshi breathes. “And you’re too close to me.”

“Well, you’re certainly not an artist,” Denki huffs, taking a few steps back. You move in to see what Denki saw.

On the wrap, the French fries have been warped to look like some sort of three-pronged fork. On the left prong, there’s a dab of ketchup, in the center, mustard, and the right has a piece of lettuce sitting on it. Connecting the three prongs is the bit of hamburger meat Hitoshi had ripped.

“Is this supposed to be a fork or a trident?” You ask, then kick yourself, because it’s obviously a trident. Duh. Mermaids. “Is that one of the things that have been stolen? A trident?”

Hitoshi says, “yes. All four of the tide jewels connect to the trident. With them, the trident could very well be one of the most powerful blessed objects on this planet. If it falls into the wrong hands, the results could be catastrophic.”

“Now, hang on,” Denki begins, brows curved into a frown. “What?”

“So good at questions,” you murmur.

“Each tide jewel has its own magical property. The names speak for themselves, but since the two of you are a little slow on the uptake, I’ll explain.” Hitoshi points at each different spot on his fries-trident, explaining what each point represents.

“The yellow jewel is for artistry and skill. Whoever wields it, whether in its natural form or attached to another object, will learn trades quickly, can craft almost anything at a master’s level, and they’ll have a more creative way of thinking.”

“The red jewel is for reign and rule. Whoever wields this can command any audience. Wars have been fought, kingdoms taken, and women stolen by the power of this gem. It’s almost the most violent of the four, but it can also be used to keep peace.”

“The blue jewel is for the tide. They used to be two jewels, one for tide-ebbing, the other for tide-flowing, but they’ve been molded together after another theft mishap. With the power of this jewel, one would be able to control not only the water of the sea, but water itself. This gem can create storms you couldn’t dream of. This is possibly the most dangerous stone if placed into the wrong hands.”

“Sir, that’s a piece of lettuce,” Denki says.

“Your burger didn’t have anything blue,” Hitoshi growls, “nor did it have anything purple, which brings me to the last jewel. This would be the soul jewel. It aids people with wishes, can offer good dreams, and can allow the wielder to see people’s auras, or souls. This jewel has stopped many malevolent unions in the past.”

Finally, Hitoshi turns back to you and Denki. There’s nothing content about his expression now. If anything, he looks grave.

“The fact that the trident is not in my possession has already had a cataclysmic influence on the world you know now. I need it, and the jewels, or else there may be dire consequences.”

Throat dry, palms sweaty, you swallow thickly, and allow yourself a moment to process all that he’s saying. It may be idiotic, but you believe him. Maybe if you hadn’t seen him in the water earlier, things would be different. You’d be more skeptical. But since you’ve already seen one impossible thing today—two if you're counting the fact that Hitoshi grew legs and magically poofed himself an outfit—you don’t think he’s lying.

However, Denki did not see him in the water. Which is why he’s the first to speak.

“Right,” he says, looking down on you. “Sorry, babe, but the marvel universe did it first with Thanos and his gauntlet. If this is supposed to be a scavenger hunt of some kind, can we skip the game, hints and all, and get to the dinner? I expect there’ll be candles and such for nighttime, so maybe you and I can hang out at the beach, sans the mean magician?” Denki looks at Hitoshi. “No offense, buddy. You could join us if you cheer up a bit. I’d never say no to a threesome with two equally attractive people.”

The water in the glass you’re holding begins to shake. It shakes, and then it moves, and then it lifts up into the air, snaking around like a gelatinous worm, and slowly makes its away to Hitoshi’s mouth. Never before have you seen anyone swallow menacingly, and this has changed it.

“I am not your buddy,” Hitoshi hisses between his teeth, “and this is not a game.”

“He just…” Denki begins stuttering. This isn’t something he can chock up to something as mundane as a magic trick. This is pure magic, and you feel less like a giant dork for how you reacted to Hitoshi showing himself to you, with how distraught Denki seems to be.

“I told you,” you say under your breath, “he’s a fish!”

“I am Hitoshi Shinsou. I am one of Ryūjin, and you will not desecrate my name or my people by belittling me or my power.” It hadn’t occurred to you until now that he’s not only speaking to Denki, but to both of you. The thought makes you shift with unease as Hitoshi’s eyes slide from your friend to you. “Not without consequences. I’ve been burdened with this purpose, and the two of you can choose to help me and reap the rewards that follow, or you can return to your miserable lives, loligagging and ogling the things you know you want, but are too lazy to obtain.”

At this moment, Hitoshi Shinsou seems ancient to you. Trepidation crawls up your spine, chilling you to the bone. You regret most of what you’ve said to him, even the things you’d thought he deserved. You have an inkling that if Hitoshi really wanted to harm you, or Denki, he would. Easily.

“Okay, well-“ Denki, again speaks first, thank god. “You didn’t say there would be rewards.”

Maybe don’t thank god yet. But before you can apologize on Denki’s behalf, the air that you hadn’t realized had got heavier, thicker even, lifts, and Hitoshi eases up, lackadaisical smirk back on track.

“You both wish for something,” he says. “If you help me retrieve what’s rightfully mine, I will graciously return the favor by granting your wishes.”

“We do?” Denki asks. It’s wild to you how easily he could jump back into conversation like this, although, when you look closely at him, you can see that he’s trembling faintly. “What do I want?”

“You wish for a boat,” Hitoshi says, “so I will give you a boat.”

“I have a boat.”

“I’ll give you a better boat.” Hitoshi seems to be enjoying himself now, even going so far as to lean on the table, picturing exactly what he’s describing. “A captivating boat that both women and men find irresistible. It will sail smoother and faster than the other vessels out on sea. You will never want or need for an upgrade for it will never wear or tear.”

“A super boat,” Denki muses, beguiled by the idea. It’s your turn to be skeptical now, because you haven’t wished for anything. At least, not aloud for Hitoshi to hear.

“Then, what do I get?” You ask, arms crossed. You can admit that you’re interested in what he might have to say.

“Oh darlin’, that’s easy,” Hitoshi purrs, and moves from the counter over to you. Slowly, like he’s savoring your anticipation. Lifting a finger to your arm, he slides it across your skin, watching as both the glow and the tingles return. You have to hold your breath to yourself from sighing.

“You want to be loved,” he says, “adored even. And not just by anybody. You want to be with your soulmate, isn’t that right. That may be why you came to this island to begin with.”

There’s no way he could’ve known that you’re new to the island. Nobody said anything about it. But he’s not wrong. Though you can’t say he’s right either. You came to the island in hopes to find…yourself. And though you haven’t yet found yourself, you sure as hell found Kirishima. And soulmate has a nice right to it.

“So if we help you find these gems—“

“—tide jewels,” he intervenes.

“Tide jewels-“ you roll your eyes- “then you will give Denki a super boat, and you will unite me with a soulmate?”

“Exactly,” Hitoshi confirms. “Easy peesy, isn’t it?”

“How do we know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?” Denki asks, finally out of his super boat daydreams.

“I said you were good with questions.” Hitoshi smirks. “You don’t know. You can’t know. But you can either do this with me, and probably get a super boat and a soulmate out of it, or you can not, and get nothing.”

Denki side-eyes you, and you him. You hold each other’s gazes for a brief moment, and you already know how this would play out if you refuse. Denki would convince you to do it. You don’t do anything, he says with his eyes. Might as well hang around and see how this plays out.

“Fine.” Even though your good conscience screams at you to do otherwise, you let up. “We’ll help you.”

“Excellent.” Hitoshi beams, or at least, he beams in a way only someone who was just threatening two other people can beam. “Then we should start our search today. We’ll probably need to go into town and see if there are any supernatural occurrences or old folktales to check out.”

Going out to town is the last thing you’d planned on doing today. Or maybe the second to last thing you planned on doing. You have to ask, because if you don’t, you’ll go batsy.

“We won’t be getting wet, will we?”

Hitoshi scoffs, which isn’t an answer. Maybe you really don’t ask the right questions because when Denki asks, “you said there were six things you need to retrieve. What’s the sixth thing?” Hitoshi winks at you, and grins. And when he grins, your stomach aches.

#bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #reader insert #mha x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha imagines #mermaid!shinsou x reader #bnha mermaids #trident tale #tt

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Tender Ch. 1 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Even though Loki doesn’t understand why the new member of the Avengers should be kind to him of all people, he doesn’t want you to stop either.

Warnings: Loki being depressed, the Avengers being kinda mean, mentions of Torture and Death

Words: ~2100

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

All eyes were on him again.

As soon as Loki would step inside, the previously lively room would fall completely silent. Well, it’s not like he wasn’t used to being the involuntary kill-joy...

Usually, the God of Mischief craved attention, may it be positive or negative - most of the time being the latter. But lately, after months of having all those distrustful and hostile glares piercing holes into him, he’d rather wish for the ground to swallow him whole.

“Umm, so...I gotta go.” Natasha was the first one to flee the unpleasant atmosphere, not even putting the energy into mutter anything else than a cheap excuse on her way out. Clint wordlessly followed her close after, but not without shooting the Odinson one last, spiteful look.

Loki on the other hand was picking on his hands, a nervous habit he had inherited from his mother. As much as he tried to avoid meeting their eyes, the tensioned aura they were emitting making him feel close to breaking down completely - but he would never give them the satisfaction to witness this, he swore to himself.

And yet: Maybe he should just leave. Disappear, forever.

Although he’d never admit, Loki had grown very tired of his life following this stirr path, unable to diverge into a new direction. Everything he did would ultimately bring death and destruction upon mankind, inflicting fear in the hearts of all people.

His whole existence was based on being condemned to fail - just for others to reach their ‘glorius purpose’.

“Great” Tony scoffed. “Now they’re gone. Well done, prince of nothing.” Steve cut his friend off, clearing his throat very exaggeratedly.

The god still hadn’t moved from the doorframe of the conference room, while all others were already sitting on the oval-shaped table. He didn’t got what all that fuss was about. If Steve didn’t insist him to attend this emergency meeting, he’d just have gone about his usual business and avoided everyone as good as he could.

“C’mon, brother” Thor sighed, well knowing that if his brother was to stay in the team, it would ultimatively drive a wedge between them. All that pressure in the air was straining for everyone, including himself.

Tony on the other hand was pretty chill about everything, aside of being passive-aggressive. This was probably due to their similar coping styles.

Even though his near-death-experience back when he stopped the Chitauri was still eating on his mental health, he’d prefer glossing over it with stupid jokes and overly confident behaviour. “No sassy remark today, Reindeer Games?”

Stark was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as he rose an eyebrow on the god, who only muttered a hoarse “No...not today.”

Yeah, it was kind of his style to break the unsettling silence through puny comments or self-glorifying speeches, to distract from his own insecurity.

But right now, he was just so damn tired.

Of this planet and it’s people, as well as the humiliating circumstances he had to dwell in. The fact that he was a prisoner at the Stark Tower, amongst his worst enemies. Being forced by his brother to keep up this meaningless act, as if he’d ever be seen as a team member or ally - when in reality, he was but a slave to the people he once ought to reign.

Just like back on Asgard: Never one of them, never belonging. No way to break free - for his true self was something to be loathed.

However, first and foremost the one thing he was especially tired of was himself, for he couldn’t get out of his own skin. Not only could he never be considered a hero, let alone be redeemed.

After all the atrocities he had commited due to Thanos’ torture and the tesseract’s influence, now that he woke up from that naive dream of power stilling the emptiness in his dark heart, there was nothing left for him - other than to be haunted by his crimes until the mercy of death would overcome him.

“Well” Steve began, slamming his palms on the desk to attract everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we are welcoming a new team member today.”

“They all know?” Of course they wouldn’t let him in on such sensitive information. Not that he minded either way - one Avenger more or less, it didn’t matter how many people hated him in here.

“Please, come on in.”

Loki cleared the entrance when he heared Tony’s words, turning around in anticipation of another dull creature like the Hulk to torment him - but his calm demeanour dropped completely at this unusual sight:

“Y-You?!”

That was simply not possible! The last time he had seen you was almost a year ago, and you were on the brink of death at that!

“For everyone that doesn’t know yet: Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is one of the victims HYDRA experimented on, and they succeeded in forming an artificial mutant.”

Steve went on and on explaining about your powers, but Loki’s head had already turned on autopilot, the only thing he could concentrate on being how the hell you of all people ended up here.

All these months, he was desperately trying to get any information about you, all of his hints ultimately leading him to dead ends - and in the end, tragically believing in your imminent death.

The memories were still painfully vivid in his mind: It was his first mission together with the Avengers, at a HYDRA hideout with most likely no civil survivors.

Actually, he had planned to make his escape right when the others engaged in a fight, wandering the hallways of what resembled a torture chamber rather than a laboratory.

On the walls were several instructions, about a serum that might cause a human to mutate if they were exposed to unbearable stress - pain being the most effective method, apparently.

Yet instead of finding anything useful for his personal gain, he found you: A beautiful woman, yet emaciated and lying in a puddle of her own blood. At first he thought you to be dead just like the others - but as soon as your faint whimpers drang to his ears, he burst the cell you were trapped in open, rushing to your side immediately.

“Shh...” the god scooped you up from the cold stone floor, wrapping his cloak around your broken body. “Everything is alright now. Your savior is here.”

Loki gasped as he felt your hand stroking his cheekbone, even through all your pain and weakness wanting to bid your hero this due respect.

“Hel...you humans are such fragile creatures...” Loki muttered under his breath, cursing his own lack of talent when it came to casting healing spells. “Hang in there, look at me!”

Your eyes were teary and bloodshot, yet not less fit to bring across a message no words ever could: Incredible gratitude, and admiration.

He could tell you were close to passing out when your hand left his face, falling limp to the side. But he held you firmly in his arms, not once stopping to utter sweet words of encouragement as he made his way to the ship, leading you into safety.

“Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

Those were the words he once directed at Black Widow - but only now he understood her attempts.

Saving one person could never make up for all the lives he had destroyed - and yet he knew that for you, it would mean the world none the less.

In one way or another, with your life at his mercy, he began to finally grasp the preciousness of life, and doing everything in one’s might to protect it.

“Reindeer Games” Tony tapped on his shoulders, making Loki wake from his pondering. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t scare her away on the first day already.”

Oh.

Just now he was noticing his own grim expression, having towered over your much smaller form this whole time with furrowed brows.

“My apologies” was his firm response, but you only shook your head, trying to tell him it was not a big deal.

So this was what you looked like when you’re not imprisoned, he realized when he took in your physique.

Much to his pleasure, all of your wounds had seemingly healed, and you finally gained some much needed weight. Like this, you looked so much more healthier - and most definetly even more bewitching than he remembered you.

If people had let him know, would he have visited your sickbed, aiding you towards health again? Who knows...

Yet somehow, he dwelled in the thought of you being able to lead a happy life now that you were free - which made your decision to seek out the Avengers in wish for more battles even harder for him to accept.

“You are incredibly strong, Lady Y/N” Loki spoke firmly, everyone else rolling their eyes at his usual exaggeration - but you knew he meant every word. “Be sure of my eternal respect.”

The God of Lies’ eyes widened in excitement when you directed a warm smile at him, knowing for sure that this one was genuine. It wasn’t like those fake smirks the other Avengers gave him out of politeness, or the mocking laughs when they were making fun of or excluding him.

No - that one was just pure affection. And it left him in awe.

“Thank you for saving me back then” you signed, just for Loki shooting you a puzzled look.

“What, I thought the all-tongue knows every language?” Tony yelled, as inconsiderate as always. Thor was quick to explain on his brother’s stead, him still being deeply invested with you. “Every spoken one, yes. ASL is not one of our fortes.”

Usually, Loki had always been a quick thinker. But right now he was to bewildered by your appearance that thinking straight was out of the question.

What language were they speaking of? And why have you not been saying anything up until now? Maybe his presence was making you uncomfortable, after all? Should he leave on your behalf?

To make it easier for him to understand, you rolled down your turtleneck, revealing the unsighty scar that covered your whole throat.

There were not many people bold enough to come close to the God of Mischief without warning, yet suddenly you simply took his hand and slowly led it to your neck.

How could you be so naive and offer someone like him such a vital spot?! He’ll never get the human philosophy...

And yet, the flabbergasted god hesistantly let his hand run over the scar, while you opened your mouth to no avail - for 11 months already, no tone would leave your vocal cords.

“I’m incredibly sorry...” Loki whispered with a sorrowful tone, while the others just stared in disbelief. “If only I was able to heal this wound back then...”

What a puny god he was...and an even more pathetic wanna-be-hero at that...

He would try to take a few steps back, but you took a hold of his hand, squeezing it with both of yours, that cheerful smile not faltering in the slightest.

“Please, don’t be sad. I’m only alive thanks to you!” Bucky, whose cousin was mute as well, translated what you were signing for Loki. His tone sounded quite irritated, not fitting those meaningful words. “I only wanted to join the Avengers because I want to be just like you. You’re my idol!”

Those words touched him deeply, igniting a flame inside of him he thought long to be defunct. Was it hope?

Of course it was not nearly enough to pull him out of that deep, dark hole he felt trapped in for as long as he could remember - yet somehow, he now felt that it was not impossible to escape.

While the others were cringing at your declaration, making jokes about ‘choosing wrong idols’ or would plainly not believe Loki to have a positive effect on anyone, the two of you would just stare at each other in silent admiration.

Shyly, you signed yet another word for him - and this time, Loki would know what you mean from pure intuition.

He smiled.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Loki was able to smile again, just thanks to your heartwarming welcome. And he was still blissfully unaware about what effect you could have on him, if he was brave enough to let you close.

One thing was sure: You literally had him wrapped around his finger from the very start.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Oneshot #Self Insert #Marvel #Disney #Fluff #Fem! Reader #God of Mischief #Loki / Reader

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seamusheaneypdf · 3 years

Text

the time is here. i have actually written something for Thee stoner cas/tour guide dean destiel midwestern college AU. endless thanks to @pietacastiel for lots of help and inspiration and general clownery <3

this is some of the first non-academic writing of done (and definitely the first i’ve shared) since i was in like middle school, so hopefully i’ve improved since my days of writing stories in the back of my math notebook when i was 12.

content note: recreational drug use (marijuana)

dean and castiel have been hanging out for a few months now. cas is a weirdo, but dean kind of really likes it. also: dean has freckles and cas is fascinated.

“I think I’m done,” Dean mutters, handing the bowl back to Cas. He’d probably never admit it out loud, because Cas makes fun of him for it enough as is, but he still doesn’t have much of a tolerance for this stuff. He stares at the curtain for a minute, a little bit mesmerized as it sways in the breeze from the open window. He’s never quite able to describe what it feels like when he’s been smoking, like the world is going in slow-motion and super speed all at once. Completely normal things seem strange all of a sudden, and...but, no, that’s not quite...ugh. Dean shakes himself out of his reverie and leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes until he hears a soft noise and looks to see Cas turned towards him.

Cas peers at him and tilts his head, eyes squinting like he’s trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle. Somehow the guy manages to be even more intense while he’s high, if that’s possible--his stare pins Dean in place even as it makes his heart stutter in his chest with the need to run away or punch Cas or something. Dean coughs uncomfortably.

“Uh,” he chuckles, “I got something on my face?”

Cas’s eyes flick up to meet Dean’s, and Dean realizes that Cas hadn’t actually been looking in his eyes before. Jesus, the dude’s eyes are stupid blue. He rolls his eyes and Dean’s question is ignored in favor of continuing to stare at...well, something on his face, Dean guesses. Cas hasn’t smoked that much and he can handle a lot more than Dean, though; he’s just kind of like that all the time. It’d weirded Dean out at first and kinda still does, but he’s used to it. He carefully doesn’t look too closely at the way it makes him feel to have Cas focus so much of his attention on him.

Cas continues to look, and finally Dean breaks. “No, seriously, dude, what is it?”

Cas meets his gaze again, eyes piercing. “You have freckles,” he says solemnly, the couple of hits he’d taken off the bowl making his voice even more gravelly than it usually is.

“I...have freckles.” Dean raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Okay?”

“They’re very interesting,” Cas confirms. He leans in so their faces are only a few inches apart. Dean swallows. “Some are more prominent and others are much more transparent. It’s like they’re in layers. They’re very close to your skin color so I didn’t notice them immediately.”

“...Right,” Dean mutters. His skin feels somehow like there’s a low-grade current running through it. “Thanks?”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” Cas says absently. From anyone else, Dean would be insulted, but by now he knows that’s just Cas’ weird way of talking. Cas bites his lip and squints even harder for a moment before huffing a sigh. Dean feels the puff of air on his cheek.

He swallows again. His mouth feels dry. “What?”

“There are too many.” Cas looks genuinely distressed. “I can’t...They blend together too much in some places, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep an accurate count.”

“It’s, uh, it’s okay, man. They’re not going anywhere.” Cas nods gravely, like the reassurance is important, and Dean can’t suppress a smile. Cas is a fucking weirdo, and like, crazy intense sometimes, but he’s also--he’s just a cool dude to be around. Dean never really knows what to expect, whether Cas is going to touch his shoulder and scold him for thinking too poorly of himself or threaten to egg Dean’s car if Dean doesn’t drive him forty-five minutes away to the nearest Dunkin Donuts at 10:30pm on a Tuesday. Being around Cas feels different, too. Dean is somehow both ridiculously tense and more comfortable than he ever feels around anyone else. Still, strange as it may be, Cas is a good buddy, and Dean’s kind of stupidly fond of him.

Dean realizes that he and Cas have been staring at each other in silence with this dumb smile on Dean’s face for long enough that it’s probably strange. He starts to turn away but Cas catches him with a gentle hand on his cheek and he leans into the touch involuntarily. For such a little guy, Cas has big hands. Soft, too. Dean realizes that his hand must have come up instinctively to hold onto Cas’ forearm. Not gripping tightly, just--anchoring there. Dean feels simultaneously high out of his mind and stone-cold sober.

Cas hums, thumb brushing over Dean’s jawline.

A beat.

“They’re more concentrated on your nose,” Cas rumbles. He uses the hand on Dean’s face to turn him to the left a little bit.

“What, looking for constellations?” Dean smiles cheekily, trying to distract himself from the sound of blood rushing in his ears and his shallow breaths.

Cas tilts his head and squints at Dean. Again. “They’re freckles, not stars. There’s certainly no discernable pattern,” he says, with an undercurrent of judgment, as if Dean should know this already. Ugh. Endearing little fucker.

The hand on Dean’s face shifts, and Cas’ fingertips just barely skim Dean’s skin as he drops his hand. It’s probably just his imagination, but it feels like Dean’s skin tingles where Cas had been touching it. Dean lets go of Cas’ arm.

There’s another moment’s pause where Cas seems to sway closer and Dean can feel his breath on his cheek once again.

“I want raisins.”

Dean blinks, then blinks some more. “You want raisins,” he parrots.

“Yes.” Cas doesn’t deign to elaborate before he’s up and off the bed, walking out the door presumably to retrieve said raisins from the kitchen.

All of Dean’s breath leaves him in a gust once Cas is out of the room. That was...something. He moves to sit up more against the wall, then startles and glances down at his crotch and realizes that at some point during that interaction he’d gotten hard. Huh. Well, he rationalizes to himself, most of the time when he’s that close to someone it’s a chick he’s about to have sex with, and his body just doesn’t know any better. Weird, but no big deal. Obviously it doesn’t mean anything, since Cas is a dude.

Dean slumps against the pillows, eyes feeling a little heavy. Cas won’t mind if he dozes a little. He’s done it before--once the first wave of the high hits him, unless he smokes more, Dean tends to get really sleepy. He smiles to himself. Cas is so cool. What a weird little dude, is his last coherent thought before he drifts off.

#from the desk #my writing #destiel midwestern college au

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thecolordemon · 4 years

Text

Short story: Belphegor kills MC

This is a angsty and sad short story about the MC during their dying process after Belphegor hurt them so bad...

⚠️❗Angst, Sadness, mentions of blood, wounds and death❗⚠️

Title: "I forgive you"

The nightly silence in the House of Lamentation was broken when Belphegor pushed you against a huge vase. The fragile object crashed to the ground and shattered into million pieces. The fragments on the black marble looked like spilled stars and there was a strange beauty in it. But you couln't care less about it right now because you couldn't breath. The marks which Belphegor's rough tail left on your sore throat just seconds ago were bright red and the sensitive skin was on fire.

You fell to the ground after your harsh collison with the vase and a painful gasp left your lips when the sharp shards burried themself deep inside your pink flesh. The pain was hot and jolted through your whole body like a lightning bolt. Crimson copper oozed from the many jagged wounds inside your palms and colored the floor like red rain. Your breath hitched in your throat and inhaling air was like swallowing knifes down your trachea. It felt like a hot blade sliced right through it and the pain made you feel nauseous.

Belphegors laugh ringed inside your ears from the room behind you. Sounding like a dark curse. "You humans really are foolish, idiotic, weak creatures, aren't you?" His evil snicker dripped from delight and you could hear his footsteps coming closer. "It's your own fault if you trust a demon. Don't blame me for your current situation, MC." His sing-sang voice scared you to death and you tried to crawl forward and away from the door. Away from the gates of hell... "That's all your fault."

But your hands couldn't carry your own weight and that's why you collapsed on the ground again. The adrenaline throbbed inside your ears and the sharps just pressed in further. Shakly you robbed forward and tried to get up on your knees. The fragments cut all through your clothes and left hurtful cuts all over your arms and legs. Some of them even sank into your kneecaps and made you cry out in pain.

Right at this moment Belphegor's long tail shot forward and wrapped itself around your left calf. All it needed was just one strong pull and you were on the ground again. Belphegor stood in the doorframe, all tall and drunk with power, when he dragged you over the black marble, over the the whole mess of broken glass and towards himself. He laughed like a maniac when the cutting continued and you cried because of the stinging pain. Being dragged all over the sharp shrads felt like you were being dragged over jagged gravel. Your legs already started to bruise from the impact before. The demon towered above you like a predator above it's prey and the sadistic grin on his lips bared his razor-sharp teeth.

"You smell delicious, you know that? Your blood really makes it even more fun." Now you laid right in front of his feet and his tightly wrapped tail cut of the blood supply to your leg. It already started to tingle and to feel weirdly numb. "Please-" you begged and the words stung in your throat, your voice being nothing more than a raspy whisper. "Please don't do this-"

"Oh MC, begging will get you nowhere." Belphegor kneeled down next you and grabbed your chin harshly. His dark, pointy nails burried themself inside your flushed cheeks and they drew blood. The smell of iron filled your nose and made your stomach twist with desperate protest. Tears watered in the corners of your eyes and dribbled over your flaming hot skin. Belphegor grinned and his rough tongue slid over your overheated flesh, catching all of the tears. He left sticky stripes of saliva on your right cheek and grinned even more when you crunched your nose in disgust.

"Who do you think you are to make such a face..." He licked over the red stains of blood that oozed down from your abused face. "You should be more grateful towards me, MC..." Suddenly his fist shot up and hit you violently on your right eye. You screamed in pain but he covered your mouth to shush the noise. He wanted to enjoy the show and he did not want to be interrupted too early. The hammering pain made you quiver and you were sure you heared some of your bones crack. You couldn't even see rigth with the eye anymore. Everything was a pounding, hurtful, black and red mess-you were pretty convinced that all the blood vessels in your right eye did burst because of the impact of his fist. But you were still losing tears.

Belphegor laughed louder as he examined your face closely. "Such a fragile creation! Useless! Utterly useless!" He laughed uncontrollably and his shoulders were shaking because it was so strong. His lilac eyes were those of a madman and he let go of your face with a painful twist of his wrist. His tail loosened a little bit and you were able to free your leg. You pulled yourself up but because of the lack of proper eyesight it was hard to keep a solid balance. Within mere seconds you grabbed one of the bigger shards and threw it at Belphegor. The demon flinched and dodged the thrown weapon which caused him to back away into the room from where he came.

Without looking back you stumbled away as fast as possible. The fear blinded you and all your nerves were on edge. You could hear him roaring viciously and staggered around the corner of the next floor. The pain was nearly taking over your body but you had to move further!

I can't give up- I can't- If I stop,I'll di--' Your legs gave in and you fell to the ground. The glass splinters pierced nerves and, muscles and caused your wounds to vomit even more blood. Like an hurt animal you crawled over the rough carpet beneath you. But you had to get up again-otherwise-

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT!!"

The blank anger in Belphegor's voice triggered you so much that you got up again. Fear can be a motivation-. You could feel a strange mixture of tears and something else dripping down from your abused eye and had to struggle with the feeling of throwing up. "-help-" you breathed out as you stumbled rashly along the never ending floor. "Somebody--help-" The beast was approaching. His thumbing steps were coming closer and closer within seconds. Furniture crashed behind you and a broken picture frame missed your head with mere inches/centimeters. You limped faster and wanted to scream but just as you opened your mouth, a heavy and powerful body smashed you to the ground.

You hit your head very hard on the black marble and again you heared a sickening cracking sound. You could feel something running down your neck, how something agglutinated your hair... You blinked dizzily and had a hard time to stay conscious. Your whole head was overwhelmed by the hot and dull throbbing pain and little black spots danced across your, already bad, vison. The heavy creature on top of you was growling dangerously and the monstrous shadow fell on your demolished features. It was hard to breath-

"I'll kill you, you know?" Belphegor's voice was a dark snarl and his teeth grazed the sensitive skin on your throat so carelessly that he drew more blood. "I'll will erase you from all the three realms and your soul will perish-" His hot breath made you sick and your weak attempts to push him away from you failed miserably. The power within you faded faster and faster... You wanted to say something but the words were like lava, heavy and gooey-You couldn't even understand them yourself.

"Don't you dare to look away MC! I want to see your eyes when their light fades away-" He laughed maniacally and grabbed your jaw violently. His nails dugged deep inside your chin and you could feel them claw over the bone beneath the skin. The hammering pain got more awful as his other hand slid to your hips to hold you in place. You tried to kick him away but your legs weren't listening to you anymore. His tail twitched threateningly above his head like a agressive snake and whipped through the air. It was hard to focus on anything else but the thickening atmosphere around both of you. The danger was so present, that it seemd like you could cut it with a knife. Belphegor hold your head in place with the other hand and his eyes glistened crazily and were glassy. It seemed like he wasn't there anymore...Like something overtook his body...

That wasn't the demon you knew-

"B-Belphie---pl-please-" you breathed. "Shh...don't waste your last breath, MC!" he replied happily. This was the biggest fun he had in years...He longed for this! "We were friends-" You could taste iron in your mouth. "Oh no. We never were friends. You're just a toy that I mobilized for my purposes." His lilac eyes pierced your dizzy vision and his long tongue curled in excitement. "I trusted you-" you whimpered. "Bad thing to do...Good bye, MC." And with this words he pierced your soft body with a harsh snap of his tail.

You wanted to scream but the only thing that left your lips was a sore whimper and a deep, aching breath of air. It felt like someone knocked the wind out of you and your lungs screamed in terror. Belphegor's tail was burried deep inside the pale flesh of your body and when he pulled out, he left a deep, bloody hole. Your heart went on a rampage and pumped the blood with all it's remaining energy through your veins. Calling out for help... It was like your heart was crying. It cried red tears of broken hopes and shattered promises, tears of despair and a lost love...

You didn't knew what hurt more...The fact that your life slowly faded away into the dark or the horrible reality that you've been so wrong about Belphie? Your hearbeat got weaker...you felt kinda cold and breathing in felt like inhaling razor-blades. "B-Belphie-" The demon above you frowned at your desperate whines. "Don't call me like that!" That was a thing only his twin was allowed to do, just him and nobody else! "You know nothing, you hear me? Your death means nothing to me! You're just like every other human being in this world."

Now, with your physical form broken, he tried to hurt you otherwise. And in a way more personal way. He was aiming for your psyche. He tried to break you in every possible way. He showed no mercy. He had no mercy. He was a wild beast driven mad by hatred and bad treatment. You winced and tried to calm your breath. "If-my death means nothing-then why are you-so eager to kill me anyway?" Belphegor blinked in confusion. "What's--the difference?-" You managed to look the avatar of Sloth right into his eyes. He stared at you like you insulted him. You could see his thoughts wild'n behind his head. He tried to find a valid reason. He tried to think of a justification why it would help him to kill you.

But there wasn't a valid reason. You helped him. He knew that. Without you he would be still stuck in the attic-locked away from the world like a caged animal. "Can't you see that you became the monster that Lucifer feared you could be?--" You coughed and spit blood all over your lips. Your breath lacked of power and the words sounded pretty slurry. "Shut up-I'm not a monster-" You interrupted his denial. "You are. -but that's okay--" You closed your eyes and hot tears poured over your lashes and cheeks.

You cried harder. "I forgive you-"

Belphegor's eyes widdened in shock and his fangs grew even sharper. Anger darkened his face like a dark cloud. "NO! YOU CAN'T FORGIVE ME! DON'T YOU DARE!" He grabbed your wrist and twisted it back in a sharp motion. Your bones cracked under his strong grip and you screamed in pain when he broke every single one of them. Your hand fell limp. Belphegor growled hatefully into your face. "You.won't.do.that!" His pupils were narrowed strongly and that made him look even more crazy.

This was his perfect moment, he wouldn't let you ruin it!

"You're nothing! A mere human like you does not have so much power over me! No one has! Your dumb and naive! Your dumb and naive if you think your stupid little words affect me!"

He was going insane. How could you not hate him?! How could you not beg for him to stop this torture?! Why were you still undermining his authority even though you were dying?!

You cried more and couldn't stop yourself from feeling sorry for the him. He was so lost in anger, so lost in his own mind that he lost all references to reality. "I forgive you, Belphie--"

"NO!" he roared and trew you across the whole floor. Again you hit your head hard but that didn't make such a big difference anymore. You were feeling awful anyway...

Belphegor kneeled on the floor, several metres away from you, crouched over and quivered like hell. His whole body shook from his jagged cries and his hands fisted into his bluish-grey strands of hair. His nails clawed over his face and left red stripes. He was fighting against himself, against the effects your words caused. It was like you put a spell on him and he tried to fight it off.

You were laying on your side and watched him apathetically. The blood colored the whole upper part of your uniform and stained the floor with it's red puddles. 'That's it...' you thought to yourself. 'It's going to be over soon...I am alone...'

That's when you heared a familiar sound.

Someone was talking-no...Lucifer was talking. You could here his voice growing louder as he came closer. He seemed to discuss something with Mammon. Powerlessly you rolled over to the other side, so that you could look down to the floor beneath you. You were lying on the balustrade on the second floor from which two stairs lead downstairs. Through the little pillars (that supported the railing)you were able to see Lucifer and Mammon coming closer. As you thought, they were busy with discussing something. Both of them totally clueless about the fight of life and death. That was your chance-

"L-Lucifer-" Saying his name was so exhausting... "M-Mammon-" They stopped right underneath the big chandelier but not because they heared your little pleas of help.

"-help-"

Lucifer spoke. "Mammon one last time, I'm not participating in your omnious bets. You'll lose all the money again because you do not learn from your failures." Mammon scoffed. "I'm not dumb, of course I learn!! It was just bad luck!"

You trembled and felt a strange cold approaching you. With your last ounce of strength you grabbed the railing with your good hand and pulled yourself up. It was hard and you had to balance your weight from one abused leg to another. Your body begged you to give in, to fall asleep-to give up-but your mind told you to keep on fighting. Now you were able to look down at Lucifer's raven hair and Mammon's white head. You were so close-

"Lu--cifer-m-mammon-"

One single drop of blood dripped from your chin and fell all the way down. You saw everything in slow motion. The little red drop brushed over Lucifer cheek and landed on his black shoulder pad. Mammon flinched and looked up. Lucifer did the same. When both their eyes land on you, you felt safe for a little moment.

Mammon smiled. "MC what--" He stopped right away when he noticed your terrible state of condition. His smile disappeared and turned into a shocked expression. All the color left his face and he looked like he saw a ghost. Lucifer's eyes widdened in shock, his mouth hung a little bit ajar.

Tears streamed down your face and the salty liquid mixed with blood and cold sweat. But you smiled powerlessly. They would help you-

"--thank yo-"

Suddenly something big appeared behind you. Before you could do anything else, claws digged deep inside your back and threw you over the railing. The next thing you remembered is that the whole room was rotating wildly. It all went so fast. You couldn't even scream. With a loud crash you fell to the hard ground.

Lucifer saw everything in slow motion. Your abused face, painted with dried blood and steamy tears, how hopefully your eyes lightened up when they noticed you, your broken hand which you pressed close to your body like a hurt little lamb...and Belphegor, his youngest brother, as he appeared behind you and hurled you over the balustrade like a doll.

Your fall was endless. But he couldn't do anything. But one thing was for sure. He would never forget the sound your body made when it crashed into the black marble ground. Your hair sprawled out around your head like a fading halo, sticky with blood and nearly all of your limbs were twisted in a sickenly wrong way.

Before Lucifer knew what to do, Mammon already started screaming in terror. "MC--NO--HELP!!!" He ran towards your body and crouched down beneath you. His screaming alerted the rest of his brothers and fast steps were coming from every direction. They all gasped in shock when they saw you laying there. You breath came in thin little gasps and you couldn't move. Everthing hurt so bad...at the same time you felt nothing at all. The crystal chandelier twinkled like a planet made of stars and mirrored your horrible reflection. You really looked awful...

That's you? The bloody mess with a smashed eye is supposed to be you?

Satan, Asmodeus, Leviathan and Beelzebub stared at you in shock. They couldn't move. They couldn't breath. They could just stare at you. Speechless. Hopeless. Clueless.

Lucifer fell to his knees and tried to stop the bleeding. He pulled his gloves off his hands and his long, slender fingers touched every cut, every bruise and every stab wound. "MC--stay with me-please-" His eyes were glassy with tears as he tried to heal the wounds but you already lost to much blood. Mammon sobbed. "MC--"

Belphegor stood on the balustrade and watched the whole thing going down. Pushing you over the edge seemed like the last possible thing to do. He watched how Lucifer failed to stop the bleeding and how your eyes wandered aimlessly over the ceiling. Your chest rose and lowered slower and slower with every passing second. Mammon cried loudly and hold you into his arms trying to protect you. "Dont do this MC-please-YOU CAN'T DIE!!"

Mammon's scream shook everyone to the core. You hiccuped blood and tried to say something but the red liquid drowned the words ruthlessly. Beel had to come forward and pulled his older brother to his chest. The big demon trembled and Mammon fought against his grip-screaming loudly and calling for help. But Beelzebub didn't let him go. He had to protect him. He had to protect MC-

Lucifer couldn't hold his tears back and he cried without any shame. "I'm so sorry MC--I'm trying b-but it's-it's not working--" Your eyes landed on his and he let out a shaky breath. You knew.

You knew you were going to die.

Lucifer embraced you in his arms and he pressed your fragile, abused body to his chest. "Please--someone--get Diavolo-he'll know what to do-he-" His voice broke as he lost his fight against the tears again. Diavolo was Lucifer's last hope--his only hope- After all he declared his loyal devotion to the demon prince. But he wasn't there. Diavolo wasn't there. And he wouldn't make it in time. Lucifer knew that. His brothers knew that. But it was impossible for him to just sit here and watch his beloved MC die in his arms-He had to do something, he-he is the oldest! He has to fix this, he has to find a solution, he-

"l-lucifer-"

His eyes shot back to you. You had lifted your good hand and managed to softly touch his cheek. Your fingers smeared blood all over his skin and the contact made him flinch. "-I'm sorry-" you whispered in a very thin voice. "I-should have-listened-to you-"

His hand found yours and Lucifer sobbed desperately. "MC-stop-don't say that-"

"it's--all my fault-" you explained with rasping breath. It was harder for you to focus your vison and big black spots interrupted the sight. You could feel your own life slipping through your fingers.

"-I'm-so grateful--for everything--you treated me like family-you welcomed me-I'll keep you in my heart-forever-"

Everything was going strangely numb...

You heared distant cries. They were from all the brothers. From all your beloved demons. You felt bad for leaving them. You felt bad for making them cry. You whished you could see them one more time.

Lucifer kissed your fingers softly and held onto you like his own life depended on it. His hands were shaky and he tried to keep his voice calm when he answered you.

"I love you-" he hiccuped and the tears streamed down without a stop.

Everthing was starting to black out.

You smiled sadly. "I--love you too--"

Your heart stopped.

"I---forgave---him---"

Your breathing stopped.

Your thoughts stopped.

Everything stopped.

Your hand fell to the ground. Lucifer could still feel your last touch lingering on his blood-smeared cheek. Time stopped.

And he screamed.

#obey me #obey me short fic #obey me sad #obey me angst #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me lord diavolo #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me story #obey me hc #angst #sad short story #obey me satan #obey me brothers #obey me beelzebub

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justwonder113 · 3 years

Text

Midnight adventures

Matsukawa Issei x f.reader

WARNING: Angst to fluff, Slowburn, friends to lovers, mutual pining, kinda long and decent amount of cursing cuz I have no shame. Both reader and Matsun are kind of dumb.

word count 6.5k

You loved him, you really did, even though he sometimes drove you out of your mind and made you want to bash his head against the wall. And he knew that. He knew what kind of effect he had on you and he was amused by it. He knew just to push the right buttons, he knew how to rile you up.

You were like an open book to him, so of course he knew you had a crush on him from the start, and you knew that he was aware of your feelings. At first, you were reluctant and refused to admit having the slightest feelings for him, but after some time you accepted the fact and realized that at some point you made your feelings seem obvious. Well, he was your first actual crush, and you were inexperienced.

Your friends would also tease you a lot and at some point, they locked you two together so you could finally confess. It was after their match against shiratorizawa in the third year. That was the day you had your first kiss with him, honestly, you didn't know what happened that night, one moment you were arguing with him because he wanted to leave the team, you were basically yelling how amazing player and teammate he was and the next second you were kissing each other. You expected that after he would confess to you, but he never did. He acted with you like the kiss never happened and that really broke you.

Maybe that is why after all these years you decided to move away, both literally and emotionally. You spent all your high school years waiting for him, waiting for him to make a move, but before you knew it you graduated. You finished school not even holding hands with another boy because you thought he felt the same, you thought that maybe you could be together? But now you realized that it was all load of bullshit. Why did you have to go so far for a person who didn't care about you that much? Why did you have to hold back when he never said no to all the attention he got from girls? You knew that they meant nothing to him and that he only saw them as one-time flings but it still really hurt you. Did you even mean something to him?

You felt mad at yourself, you wasted all these years swooning over someone who didn't return your feelings. But the thing that angered you the most was that you still weren't over him. Your heart would still flutter like crazy whenever you saw him and as much as you hated it he looked better and better every time. You also hated the fact that you couldn't blame him for all this pain, you couldn't tell that you were heartbroken because he didn't love you, that wasn't much of a reason. You were the silly one here. Why were you even surprised? He knew you for years as friends. He probably only saw you as a friend and considered the kiss as a mistake.

To be honest, he never did anything wrong, he always treated you warmly, and with respect, he liked to piss you off but he never really crossed the line, you couldn't blame him for not loving you. You guys kissed like one time, he probably regretted it and didn't want to hurt your feelings that's why he never brought it up after that. He gave you space. He didn't tell you in your face that he didn't return your feelings, he never broke your heart, you were just the silly one, clinging tightly to that miserable string of hope. You were the weak one for falling for him. It would have been better if he screwed up, if he told you that he could never look at you romantically, maybe it would make you feel a little better, your heart would break but you would get over it? But no destiny said that he had to be perfect.

When you moved away to University you promised yourself that you would start everything from the fresh page, you would work on yourself and no longer be that helpless girl who couldn't even get over her crush. You spent months working on your self-confidence and other issues, you spent countless time getting yourself into shape. Let's say you worked on yourself pretty hard. And it paid off, you had finished university and were about to start your dream job, you had gotten an offer many would dream of, you did everything you wanted, you even got in a few relationships, you should have been satisfied right? Then why didn't feel so? Why was there a feeling of emptiness inside your soul and why was no one able to fill it? It made you furious, after all these years, how could you not move on? Why did you Think about Matsukawa when you kissed other men? Why did you keep comparing everyone to him? What did he even do to deserve a permanent place in your heart? Your heart still kept beating like crazy and it's been what? years? you were in your twenties already, you needed to move on!

You were back in the city to celebrate your friends' victory over his rivals. Oikawa being the flashy person he is decided to throw the biggest party possible and now here you were. You knew you would meet him here, he was his friend as much as you after all, but you didn't expect it to hurt this much. As you said time really had done its job on him, he looked more mature now, he was slightly taller and definitely more muscular, he decided to grow his hair too, you always knew that he would look amazing with slightly longer hair, he had also gotten a few tattoos that were seen through his rolled-up black shirt. Man, did it suit him, the shirt was a bit tight fit and it really complimented his muscular form. The tattoos looked amazing on him and were these rings he was wearing? And piercings! And he had his nails painted black, Really life? He looked like your dream man, thank you very much for nothing!

You knew you would run into him today and you tried to look your best, you knew it was silly but you felt like showing off, but after seeing him you felt kind of self-conscious. You wondered if your dress was a good choice, you chose it as it hugged your curves perfectly and really complimented them but now you were wondering if it was too much. Was your hair alright? You hoped it didn't get frizzy. Oh god, why was everyone staring at you? Your lipstick didn't smudge, right? Even though you were having a war inside your head it simply washed away in an instant as you saw the face of your best friend who was grinning like crazy. You quickly headed to her and engulfed them in a tight hug. God, you missed themso much! You felt lucky just by having them in your life, and they really helped you get through with your issues,they were with you every step of the way and you couldn't be more thankful. If it wasn't for them and your friends you doubted you would be standing here right now. Even though you still felt self-conscious sometimes like now overall you were a pretty confident person who radiated power. Even when you felt weak you managed to look powerful. Maybe this was your resting bitch face? You didn't know. You felt thankful that he didn't notice you he was too busy talking with some woman, typical.

"I missed you so much! Can't believe I'm seeing you after all this time. I really missed you all. And meeting on an occasion like this we just have to celebrate our reunion, I knew Oikawa would beat their asses someday," you grinned proudly. "Okay, I'm getting carried away, I really missed you tho. We have to catch on, let's ditch your them later and have some fun!" You ranted as you occasionally squeezed your best friend who kept chuckling.

"Now now Y/N-chan, you just came back don't go stealing my friends from me!" Oikawa came out of nowhere and snatched your best friend away from you, you pouted but chuckled in the end.

"Can't make promises Flattykawa. And in my defense, I knew them longer." You teased and made a face at him, Oikawa fake gasped and clutched his heart a smile never leaving his face. You missed this idiot and his dramatic shenanigans so bad.

"Again with a nickname! Y/F/N-chan she's being mean!" Your friend only chuckled at Oikawa's childlike behavior and patted his hand.

"She has a point tho." Your friend teased along.

"Betrayed by you too! What else should I expect today?" He whined, you only chuckled and opened your arms.

"I really missed you, you dork! I'm really proud of you," you said sweetly, Oikawa immediately hugged you, you smiled at the familiar warmth, Oikawa has been like an annoying brother to you, you weren't used to not hearing his constant whining and antics even after all these years living apart from them.

"I really missed you too! Nothing's the same without you!" You smiled at Oikawa's warm comment. You were glad they missed you the same way you missed them. You really tried to visit as frequently as you could but it was hard when all of you were covered in work. Out of all third years, Hanamaki and Matsukawa stayed in Japan, you and others left the country for Universities. You felt really emotional, it had been such a long time without them...

"Look at her, hugging Oikawa and Y/f/n-chan first, don't mind me I'm just gonna stand here until you decide to acknowledge me. I thought we had something special Y/n, you're breaking my heart here." You heard a deep voice behind you, you smiled and turned back smirking.

"I would say she has her priorities set right? I mean it's me you are talking about,"Oikawa boasted, Your friend giggled.

"Missed you too Hiro," you grinned as you playfully hit his shoulder then hugged him. It was good to be home.

"Where's my grizzly bear?" You asked as you searched the crowd for the angry spiky head.

"He's at the bar probably, Oikawa managed to talk his ears out already, he left a minute ago saying "I'm not drunk enough for this shit!" I'm sure he will be happy to see you." Makki smiled and wrapped his hand around your shoulder you smiled and leaned in on his touch. You had missed this so much!

You spent most of the evening chatting with people and having a nice time. Oikawa for sure knew how to throw a party, you even danced with some charming men. You felt uneasy tho, you and Matsukawa made eye contact a few times but none of you even moved to say something, you just smiled at each other awkwardly. Over the night you noticed how many girls approached him, well it wasn't surprising, he was a good looking young man, but you couldn't help but feel a tinge of annoyance on the inside. In the end, you tried your best to be your charming self. You talked to many different men and even danced with more of them, moving your hips passionately along the music. But you felt bored in the end. None of them were interesting, they didn't have a fire you wanted. How long were you going to be like this? Wasn't there someone who could I don't know sweep you off your feet?

Suddenly you felt overwhelmed, the alcohol was starting to kick in and you swayed your hips with a bit more passion, your best friend was next to you, Oikawa had left you two alone to have your time.

"You haven't talked to him right?" As always, Your friend guessed what was bothering you in a second.

"No, and I'm not planning on doing so. If he didn't think I were at least a little bit important than the girls he was talking to then I'm not going to interfere. I have self-respect. He didn't even bother to say hi." You rolled your eyes and chugged another shot, the alcohol mildly burned your throat but you were used to the feeling. You just felt like dancing and maybe even washing your worries away. You wanted to have fun, and you had a reason too, your friend won a gold medal and defeated his rivals! You decided to go and do another shot, getting near the bar, you noticed a familiar spiky head, you smiled and got closer finally sitting next to the buff man.

"Is this seat taken handsome?" You asked seductively, Iwaizumi's shoulders tensed for a second but he relaxed as soon as he saw your grinning face.

"Y/N!" He greeted you with a smile and got up, you were quick to wrap your hand around him.

"Good to see you, daddy." You grinned teasingly, Iwaizumi flushed immediately. You had a habit of teasing him, you often called him daddy because of his aggressive yes, but caring demeanor, and you really enjoyed it when he got flustered. Truth be told you were probably the only person who got away with teasing him without getting punched or kicked.

"God, when will you stop with the dumb nickname? People are going to get a very wrong idea, it's embarrassing," he grumbled and pointed to the bartender by his eyes, who was looking at you from time to time sneakily, he heard you and was shocked, you smirked and gave him a wink, making the boy blush harder. You smiled, as you eyed the boy he was definitely cute.

"I will stop when you won't have an adorable reaction like this," you teased, Iwaizumi only scoffed, but he didn't look mad.

"It's awfully early for you to start drinking, did Oikawa really talk your ears out?" You chuckled, Iwaizumi scoffed again but he looked amused.

"Unfortunately for me yes, I swear to God he never stops talking." You chuckled, it was such an Oikawa thing to do.

"Yeah, I'm glad Oikawa won, I'm sorry for your team but he did work really hard for it and really deserved it." You smiled fondly after noticing Oikawa dancing with your best friend over some cheezy song which probably he had chosen.

"Yeah, I'm glad too. You should have seen him tho, the all smug Oikawa crying nonstop like a baby after he realized he had won, well of course after they left the court, he was like Iwa-chan I did it!" Iwaizumi mimicked Oikawa's crying voice, you giggled. It sounded like Oikawa, "Don't laugh, who do you think had to stop him from crying? "Iwaizumi shuddered as you had a hard time holding your laughter. You had such a good time, you didn't even notice a pair of dark brown eyes observing your giggling form.

"Now all I can see is Oikawa clinging to you like a koala and crying his eyes out." Iwaizumi only looked at you with an unamused face, making you raise your hands in defeat, the deadly aura didn't go unnoticed by you. Iwaizumi rarely lost his cool around you, but it didn't mean you were immune to his rage. "I'm only kidding, Iwa baby, please don't get mad at me." You lightly pouted as you made puppy dog eyes at him, he only sighed and took another sip from his drink, you smiled and ordered a drink, you visibly relaxed, you didn't feel on edge anymore.

You talked for a while, but unfortunately for you, Iwaizumi had to leave, apparently drunk Oikawa was somewhere causing some trouble. You found it suspicious that was too much even for Oikawa but you didn't question it. Iwaiizumi only grumbled in annoyance and left, being used to all this stuff. You, on the other hand, Made small talk with the cute bartender, he was really good looking and surprisingly very charming and smooth. You were quite drunk already and you were feeling needy, so now here you were making out with him in some empty hallway. He was a good kisser, but you still didn't feel any spark. You wanted to feel the same tingling sensation as the one you felt when you had your first kiss with Issei. The situation was not at all romantic as you said, Oikawa and others locked you in the lockers, to make up after you had a little fight. You bickered at each other for a while, well it was you who was really arguing, you were really mad at him because he was bringing himself down and planned on leaving the team, and you were trying to get to his scull how amazing he actually was and soon your lips were against each other and it felt like the most magical feeling in the whole world. You had never felt anything like that when you kissed others and today was no exception, unfortunately for you. You tried to take the lead in the kiss maybe to make it feel more enjoyable for you but before you could even try, a hand made the man separate from you. You opened your eyes to see Issei, who didn't have a very pleased expression.

"I have business with Y/N, so I don't know, get lost?" Issei said without any emotion. You looked at him dumbfounded. He didn't even bother saying hi earlier, what business would he have with you? The boy, Souma was it? Looked at you two before speaking.

"Dude what the hell we were busy!" He groaned as he glared at Issei, who didn't seem really fazed.

"Do I really look like I care?" Matsukawa asked plainly, You took the chance to straighten up.

"Listen here you little..." Souma stopped before he would go on, as he felt chills run down his spine under Matsukawa's cold glare. You sighed and straightened up.

"I guess it's pretty important, I will contact you later ok?" You asked sweetly, but you both knew you weren't going to contact him. You didn't even have his number and you hadn't given him yours. Souma grumbled and left leaving you with Issei.

As soon as he left you were quick to smack Issei's arm. "Dude, what the fuck?" He only looked at you, grabbed your arm, and led you through the hallway. "What's with the cockblocking? He didn't seem too bad."

"I didn't like him." He said like it was the most obvious thing. It made you feel mad.

"Oh sorry, next time I will choose someone you might like, for future references what type of boys are you into?" You snarled lightly. You wanted to break free from his grasp but it was too strong. Soon your back made contact with the cold wall, and you were caged between Issei's strong arms. You tried to protest but before you could even say a word his lips were on you. You didn't know how to act, your whole body went stiff but after a second you felt your body relaxing.

"God, you're beautiful." He said as he kissed you again, his big hands snaking around your waist. You were speechless, you didn't really realize what was going on. But your body felt like it was on fire. His lips kept brushing against yours just perfectly, your skin was burning hot under his touch. Your heart was beating like crazy, you only managed to whimper against him and he took this as a chance to deepen the kiss. You tried to keep up but it was physically impossible. His kiss was deep and passionate, kind of possessive too. You could feel all his lust through it. You moaned lightly, unable to control yourself. You put your hands on his chest, you could even feel his strong yet fast heartbeat, you pushed lightly, Issei took the hint and leaned back. He stared at you, admiring your beautiful form, you looked so pretty all flustered and breathless, he had wanted to do this for such a long time, for the whole night you had basically been teasing him and his patience was running thin.

"What came over you. I..." You didn't know what to say, you were so confused.

"Do you remember our random sneak outs in highschool?" How could you forget, you just lived for the tiny adventures you, Makki and he used to have at three am. Sometimes when Hiro didn't feel like coming, you would go with him instead. Eating ice cream or random junk food at three am on your special spot, you lived for it. Sometimes you didn't even talk for a whole night but still felt so comfortable. Your chest tightened again at the memory. But why bring it up now? This didn't explain all the raging questions you had.

You nodded your head quietly, looking at him through glossy eyes. "I do. Why?" Your voice was so weak it made you cringe. You didn't know, what was this about? Why bring it up now.

"Would you go on an adventure with me? I know it's Oikawa's special day, but Y/N I... We both know that we need to talk." You looked up at him with wide eyes, you had never seen him like this, he looked so serious and desperate too? Despite feeling all furious and all you nodded and let him lead you through the crowd and to his car.

"I will text him, he might get worried. But what should I say? Where are we even going? We're in Tokyo, don't tell me we're going to Miyagi!" You asked as you sat down in his car, you were confused, all this stuff was confusing you.

"No, I don't plan to take you to Miyagi, I was thinking of ordering a shit ton of junk food via drive-in and then taking you to the place I found earlier. Don't worry I'm sure you will like it." Issei assured you as he got in his car, started the engine, and started driving.

"Are you really trying to get on my good side via food? I'm really mad it's not going to be that easy." You furrowed your eyebrows, Issei huffed a laugh.

"Maybe I am? We both know that you will sell your soul to satan for a bag of doritos! If I keep your mouth busy while I tell you something at least I won't have to worry about you biting my head off," Issei pointed out like it was the most obvious argument while smirking proudly, you scoffed.

"I will hit you so hard after you stop the car, I'm not doing it now because I value my life. And besides, it's not about whether or not I will like the place. It can be next to a strip bar or some abandoned place, what's important is that you will say and you know that." You said as a matter of fact and turned away from him, looking through the window.

"I know." He sighed after a second, the atmosphere was heavy, opposite of what you were used to. You started liking Mattsun because things were easy with him and that it was full adventures, but now... You had to calculate everything you said, how you moved, how you looked at him, and stuff. When did it become so painful to be in the same space as him? And the stuff he wanted to tell you terrified you. What if he admitted that he never saw you seriously? That he only felt desire for you at some doing and nothing else. You didn't even know what made him act up today, did he have at least the slightest feelings for you or did he just found desirable in that tight dress? Maybe he just didn't like the face another man tried to take you away. Either way, anxiety was eating you from the inside. Your heart kept beating rapidly and your fingers actually hurt from playing too hard with them.

You were so lost in your thoughts you didn't even notice how he ordered and got the food. You only came back to reality only when he opened your door gently took your hand in his big one. "We're here." He helped you get out of it. The cold air immediately hit you, making you shiver slightly. "Here take this." He said as he put his jacket on your shoulders, it was so big you were basically swimming in it but on the contrary, it was really warm and soft and it smelled like him! Just perfect, you immediately snuggled in. Mattsun then took the food package from the backseat. He quickly locked the car and led you through again. You were now in front of a big clearly abandoned building, you hesitated for a second and tightened your grip around his hand, Issei looked at you, carefully examining your face."Are you feeling scared? I promise it's a safe place, I have been here. You still like exploring weird buildings like this right?" He teased lightly, squeezing back your hand. You only pouted.

"I do like exploring buildings like this, but when I said abandoned building I was joking you know that right? I like these kinds of places but not in dresses like this and especially not in high heels. I like being prepared to run from my life if there's a huge creep or some sort of monster, I don't know! And I haven't done something like that for such a long time, and we're not in Miyagi too, everything's new here!" You said as a matter of fact while playing with your hair, Issei only chuckled. You felt nervous. Before you could even comprehend what was happening Issei had already picked you over his shoulder. You felt like a sack of potatoes.

"Oh my god, Matsun what are you doing? Put me down!" You tried squirming away at the same time you clutched his shirt too afraid to fall. He started laughing, you felt vibrations through his back, you couldn't help but smile, you liked when he laughed.

"No way, I like carrying you and I have the best view too so no way princess."You could tell he was grinning while looking at your ass and it made you mumble in annoyance. You gasped when he spanked your bottom lightly, you smacked his back in response. "Do you like the view?"

"Shut up!" You whined, which made him chuckle harder. "Put me down, my dress is short!" You started wiggling again, but he had a death grip on you. You could feel the blood rushing to your face and at this point, you were not sure if it was from embarrassment, just having your head low and blood rushing to your head or just anger.

After a minute of him walking and you admiring his ass, he finally put you down. You looked around, the building was empty, there was no furniture and some of the walls were covered in graffiti. Other than that you enjoyed the place, it had a certain vibe to it. You wandered for a second, exploring the room. When you turned around you didn't see him, you walked around and eventually came out on the huge veranda. The sight made you gasp, Issei had laid the blankets on the floor and taken out the food, it looked so cozy! There were some pillows too. It was just like a little picnic, the dim streetlights also shone nicely with some fairy lights there and there and the sight in front of you of the night city was magnificent. Everything looked so simple yet so perfect.

"Okay, stop or I might have to actually marry you." You pointed at everything dramatically, you couldn't contain your smile. Everything looked like the pics you have seen on social media or in the movies. Issei smiled at you softly, you looked so cute all excited like that. His jacket really suited you too, you looked so perfect.

"I knew you would like this. I'm glad you actually agreed to come." He smiled and patted space next to him, you sighed and sat carefully, holding down your dress, it was short at it was you didn't want it to slide up too much.

"You knew I wouldn't refuse such tempting request, didn't you? I always liked our little adventures," you smiled fondly, recalling sweet high school memories.

You spent few minutes in silence watching the city, eating there and there, but it wasn't uncomfortable like before, your anxiety had calmed down a little too. You just sat there and enjoyed the moment. You didn't even notice when he took your hand but you didn't bother to take it back. You wished you could stay like this forever but you also knew it was wrong. You had to ask the question, even if hearing it could destroy you. You both knew that.

"Matsu, why did you kiss me earlier? I'm trying to understand what's going on between us but now I'm especially confused. Why did you do it? I thought you didn't like me," You were talking quietly, but in reality, it was really hard for you to contain your sea of emotions. Issei tightened his grip on your delicate fingers, neither of you bothered to look at each other in the eyes. He took a deep breath and started talking quietly.

"I don't know myself. I thought I had let go of you, I thought I was over you, but when I saw you again all feelings came crashing down on me again. You looked so breathtaking, I fell in love with you all over again. So pretty and all dolled up and this dress. God this dress, hugs you so perfectly on all the places I want to touch, I actually feel jealous of it. I want to rip it off and have you all to myself and never let go. I don't want to let go now that I tasted your lips again." He spoke lowly, his voice was raspy and it sent chills down your spine. " You are the most beautiful person here you know that right? You are probably the most beautiful person in the whole city, I think even in whole Japan or better the world!" Matsun kept going on and on setting your heart ablaze. You were mad, but at the same time, you were so at ease and felt so at comfort. It was like your mind and heart were battling each other and you had no idea which would win.

"I'm still really mad at you." You grumbled against his chest, Issei hummed and wrapped his hands tighter around your waist.

"I know and you have every right to." Issei hummed and pecked your hair, he then grabbed your chin lightly and made you look at him. "I'm really sorry Y/N, all I have been doing is to cause you pain. It was never my intention. I love you, god, I love you so much! I know you will be better without me. You can find so many who are way better than I am and would treat you like you really deserve. And I thought I came around with the fact that I wouldn't be the one to have you in the end. I always knew that. That's why I never made any kind of move on you. When you entered the party you looked like a different person. You were the most beautiful person I have ever met, you looked so confident and comfortable in your own skin and most of all you looked so happy! I didn't want to come to you and ruin it. I felt so proud too, you achieved so many things! God, you don't know how proud I am to even know you!" Matsun kept going on and on, you haven't even heard him talk this much in a row, he was always a man of few words. He looked so desperate too, and the way his voice broke, killed you too. You had known him for years but you still never had seen him like this. Honestly, You had no idea what to do. You wanted to yell at him and comfort him at the same time. You tightened your grip around his hand, your knuckles were starting to whiten but you didn't care. You wanted for him to know you were listening, that you were there.

"Matsun, I..." You tried to start but he interrupted you.

"Please let me finish." The tone of his broken voice immediately made you shut up. "I know it was my own choice to let you go, and I really thought I was fine with that but when I saw you... When I saw you something like snapped in me. I tried to take my mind away, I kept talking to this women to keep my mind off of you, but how can I pay any attention to these peasants when a literal goddess has taken over my heart? And when I saw you kissing that asshole I almost went feral! I would have murdered him if I had a chance. He was touching the one I basically find sacred so disrespectfully, I almost lost my mind. Then I got you to myself I couldn't help but kiss you. Your lips always look so welcoming I couldn't help myself. And I want to do it again and again. I don't ever want to let go. I miss you like crazy! I don't know if I can be apart from you again. I... God, I sound so pathetic, I don't even understand what's happening with me. I covered this place with blankets and stuff you love because I hoped you would come to another adventure with me. Funny thing is that I wasn't even planning on asking, I don't know how we ended up here. I thought I would end up coming here all alone, wallowing myself in self-pity again. I know I don't deserve it, and I know that everything's my fault and my fault only and I would understand if you don't want to have anything to do with me, but could you give me another chance? I don't think I can last any more minute without you. I miss you so much it actually hurts."

Matsukawa looked at you with pleading eyes, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, you were getting in his lap and were kissing him like there was no tomorrow. He was startled for a second, he clearly didn't expect you to have a reaction like this but he wasn't against it at all. In fact, in a second, he was the one taking the lead and deepening the kiss. His hands digging in your hair while you slid yours through his hair. He would have continued doing so before you leaned back and broke the kiss. He looked at you half dazed. You were quick to bring him back to his senses when you harshly smacked his head.

"That hurts!" He complained, which made you more fueled up and now you punched his shoulder.

"That's the point of hitting! I want it to hurt you asshole!" You yelled. "You know you're a huge fucking idiot right? What's with this bullshit about not being worthy to be next to me? If I didn't think your ass was worthy I wouldn't have fallen in love with you! My taste in men may not be that great but I'm not stupid! I appreciate that you're thinking about my happiness or whatever, even though it's totally uncalled for, and thank me for not beating your ass further! But I get to decide what's good for me and what's not. To your surprise genius, that comes to dating too! I get to decide whom I want to date and fall in love with and in this case, it happens to be you, fuck it always has been you! I had some partners but I didn't love any of them, cause your caterpillar brow ass has managed and captured my heart, I always come to compare them to you, and guess what they're not you! God, you can be so stupid for someone who is supposed to be smart! I'm really disappointed Matsun and mad too! I want to beat your ass even further! God, how did you even manage to come up with this bullshit? I swear to god!" You kept grumbling while messing with Issei who looked like he was still in shock, his cheeks were dusted pink and you couldn't help but squeal on the inside from how cute you found it. You made Issei blush! That was an achievement for sure and such an adorable one too! But you couldn't back down now, you felt actually mad that he had such dumb thoughts like this, but on the other hand, you found it very endearing and cute. He was trying to protect you! And by the looks of it, he was hurting just as much as you. But the fact remained the same, he loved you. Your dream came true, he shared the same feelings! You felt so happy, you wanted to kiss his face till your lips fell off.

"You know you don't have to straight ass roast me right?" Issei tried to look offended but he was having a hard time hiding his grin, you smiled and pinched his cheek making him roll his eyes.

"Oh baby, I'm not even started. What did you think I was going to forget everything? And don't be mislead Makki can't even come close to me when it comes to teasing. You're in for a ride sweetheart, teasing is only just begging, maybe if you find a few ways to shut me up, and you know what I mean, I could keep quiet for a while, you could atone for your stupid ass mistakes with many kisses for starters. I don't know Matsu get creative. The point is you're stuck with me and you can't even run from me now you got it? No more bullshit like I don't deserve you and stuff like that," You said as slowly and as seductively as you could having your face close to his and occasionally brushing your lips against his. Still being in his lap gave you the perfect leverage and you just loved the way he was tightly holding your hips, to keep your bodies close. You felt complete after such a long time...

The hurt and all the emotions didn't wash away immediately obviously, you knew that your wounds would take time to heal, but now at least you knew Issei would be next to you through the journey and that was enough. You knew that now, that you had talked things through, maybe yelled from your side but still, you knew that you could overcome many things together. You just needed to voice your thoughts out.

"Wasn't even planning on it baby," he growled while he closed the distance between your lips again making you squeal a little. Yup, you just loved your little midnight adventures.

God, I can't believe I actually wrote over 6500+words. No wonder my eyes hurt like a bitch lol. Anyway, I really hope you will like it. If you have any kind of feedback please notify me. I'll gladly take some healthy criticism. I really want to improve my writing and I promise I will do my best. This is a firts work I have ever published on tumblr and I really hope you will like it^^

#haikyuu #haikyuu angst to fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #matsukawa #matsukawa x you #hq matsukawa #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei #badass reader #hq x reader #hq #reader insert #angst to fluff #mutual pining #friends to lovers

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i-will-physically-fight-you · 3 years

Note

One Word Prompt: Fish

Title: Scaled and Icy

Pairing: Platonic, familial Logince

Summary: “Oh, Virgil is going to hate him. He’s going to erupt in a rant about Logan being too impulsive as if Logan doesn't think out every action in a methodical manner.” Or. Logan decides to adopt an abandoned human child.

Word-Count: 1k

Warnings: Dubious Morally Grey Logan, Merfolk But They’re Like Fae!, Presumed Child Abandonment, Slightly Unreliable Narrator, Transformation, Emotional Manipulation, Mentioned Cannibalism (Kinda), Angst With a Kinda Happy Ending, Don’t Worry Roman’s fine, Probably, It’s Dark Fairytale Vibes Okay

Here, have another eldritch logan adopts a child au!

"You're like a fish!" The human child crows, his brown eyes alit with both wonder and joy. He couldn't be much older than three, possibly four. Which is all the more concerning, really, for where is his parents?

Logan blinks. "Not entirely but yes, I do share similar characteristics to them."

"Fish, fishy, fish-man!" The child declares, pudgy fingers reaching to touch Logan's bioluminescent blue scales.

"A-aahah--" Logan begins, moving slightly back, "Please refrain from touching people without asking their permission first."

He tilts his head, golden brown locks falling over his eyes. "Pleeeease can I?"

"Of course, thank you for asking."

The human child's face brightens at this. He reaches again, this time delicately touching Logan's scales with care.

"Whoa," The human child breathes in, "It'ssocool."

He then draws the hand away, resting it against the sandy shore. "My name is Roman and I wanna be a prince! What's your name?"

"You may call me Logic," Logan smiles, showing a slip of his sharp needle-like teeth. There's several rows of them unlike a human’s set of teeth.

This terrifies most humans, but not Roman who possesses the boundless courage of childhood. He leans closer, face scrunching up.

"Logic's a silly name." He declares.

Logan laughs, "Well good thing it's not my true name."

"It's a pretend name? Like make-believe?"

"Essentially, yes. You shouldn't give names away, they have power."

Roman doesn't seem to heed Logan's words, instead protesting, "Well, then, I wanna be Prince Romanul-us-ulus--Romulus then!"

Logan lets out a low, crooning noise, one generally meant to console young merlings. He never expected himself to so enchanted with a child, let alone a human one. Yet the instinctual parental drive is stronger than he thought.

"Well, Roman, would you like to be a prince?" Oh, Virgil is going to hate him. He’s going to erupt in a rant about Logan being too impulsive as if Logan doesn't think out every action in a methodical manner.

"Well, yeah!" Because Roman needs someone to look after him. His parents are clearly not doing a great job of it. He could've gotten swept up in the waves and died if not for Logan.

"Take my hand, come with me then, Roman." This is something the Ocean surely wills. She offered Roman to Logan and he must honor that.

"Okay!" Roman says, eagerly taking Logan's webbed hand.

And it's all Logan needs to pull the child underneath the water, wrapping his arms tightly before Roman can squirm away. Oh, how the child thrashes, his human instincts kicking in and trying to get him to go towards the surface.

It's alright though, it won't last long. Logan sings, thanking the Ocean for Roman. He won't beg for the Ocean to be merciful because the Ocean is not merciful. The Ocean will either let Roman live or She won't. It's something humans seem to fail to understand, time and time again, as they try their hardest to thwart Her will with their contraptions.

Soon Roman's thrashes go weak and the child is limp, heavy in his arms. Logan hums, rocking the child gently back and forth. His grin widens at the slits forming on the child's neck, acting as the opening for gills.

It's the only warning he receives as Roman's eyes reopen, a fiery red hue, as a piercing wail escapes his lips. The child’s soft, rounded baby teeth fall out as little rows of new merling teeth replace them. Still not full-grown teeth, but better at tearing through raw fish than a human’s dull teeth ever could.

"I know, I know," Logan croons, stroking his golden brown locks, "It'll be over soon."

Roman is not the first human Logan has seen the Ocean take as Her own. Virgil was one of the first Logan witnessed. He’d fallen overboard off a human ship, too young to know how to swim. Logan’s pod circled around his sinking figure, tails whipping with fervent excitement.

“He’s an offering from the Ocean,” Logan’s father had whispered to him, “Either he’s meant to become one of the Ocean’s children or he’ll perish and we’ll feast on his flesh.”

Virgil survived, snapping and clicking with the ferocity of a bullshark. Logan has an inkling Roman will be the same as his wails become more of a hissing, shrill noise.

His ears has elongated, tipped with small winged fins. Similar fins appear on the backside of his elbows and Logan suspects on his back as well. The most important part, of course, is when the human’s pair of tails conjoin together to become one. This is where many prove their unworthiness to be one of the Ocean’s own. They perish, a mockery of what a Mer should be; malformed and incomplete, a disgrace to the Ocean.

“Shhh, shhh, Roman, let the Ocean accept you as one of Her own, don’t fight it,” Logan continues crooning, adjusting his grip so he is only holding onto the upper half of Roman’s body. The sliver of Roman’s soul that is still human tries to use this to kick at Logan, to dislodge his grasp.

But this is hard when the tails become stiff, rigid as they become one, shimmering as ruby scales overtake soft flesh. The outerwear humans are fond of wearing tears, ripping to shreds as its unable to handle Roman’s growing unified tail. The tail itself almost makes up his original height but not quite. Roman’s tail twitches once, then several times.

“Rather an odd sensation for you I imagine, hmm?” Logan comments, tracing the edge of Roman’s finned ear fondly. Oh thank the Ocean, he never thought he’d be happy to have a child of his own until this moment.

Roman opens his eyes again, a good proper glowing red hue. “F-fishyman--Logic?”

“Yes?”

“I--I’m a fish too?”

“No, Roman, you’re not a fish. You’re like me--you’re one of the Ocean’s children now.”

“O-ooh. But why? It hurt so much!” Roman pouts, tail lashing angrily.

“That’s simply how it is, little prince,” Logan hums.

“Well, I don’t like it! Can I change back? I wanna see my mom and dad.”

“Now, Roman, you can’t do that. Your parents left you, they weren’t watching you like they should and now I will take care of you. You want to be a prince now, don’t you, Roman? Roman, you will be a prince and you’ll be so excited you’ll forget those humans ever existed, alright?”

Foolish, foolish humans. They really should’ve taught their child about the importance of names. That’s alright, Logan will teach Roman now and keep him safe.

“I do wanna be a prince, I’m going to be a prince, right?” Roman murmurs, yawning. The process of becoming one of the Ocean’s own is a tiring one. He snuggles closer to Logan, curling his tail around Logan. Something Mer instinctively do, to ensure they won’t drift away from their loved ones when they fall asleep. Logan smiles at this.

“Yes of course,” Logan soothes, “You’ll be my little prince and I won’t ever let any harm come to you.”

#sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #kat writes #logince

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yungbludy · 4 years

Text

the hills have eyes

plot ↬ being attracted to one overwhelming person known as yungblud is alresdy too much for you. adding mgk in the mix is even worse.

warnings ↬ there’s tension here yes yes, smut!! threesome!! fingering & handjobs, writing colson is so fun i didn’t realize how hot he was lol 😳, hint at something going on between colson & dom, dom & reader like each other, maybe a pt 2?

a/n ↬ i know y’all have been wanting this for the LONGEST, and it’s easily my most requested fic. enjoy it!

When you left college with a degree in music production, you never would’ve expected to land in the studio of Yungblud, a young but upcoming artist with his own charm to set him apart from the rest. He was easily the most hyperactive artist you’ve worked with, someone with a truly pure heart that cared deeply for his music and his fans. It was a breath of fresh air, because out of all the artists you’ve worked with—big and small, you don’t think you’ve ever come across someone so genuine.

It was almost fate how you went from being in the studio with him every other week to nearly every day. He loved your presence; you made him see things differently, made him hear things he had never heard before. You made him feel smarter, more experienced.

A friendship blossomed. It was nice, because you didn’t have that many friends when you left college. Dominic introduced you to other people too, such as his band mate Adam, and they adored you. You were the calm before the storm of Dominic in their eyes. You balanced each other out, like some rock n’ roll version of a Yin and Yang.

Before you would hang out in groups. You, Dominic, and maybe a few other friends attending concerts or going to a restaurant together. You liked it—these people knew you and liked you, and you felt like you had a place.

You didn’t know when the... shift started. When it started becoming just you, and Dominic. When he texted you if you wanted to hang out at his place, (not a date or anything, just hanging out lol 🖤). When you still saw your friends, but you were seeing Dominic’s face more and more.

But you knew as soon as that started happening, that the feelings you had for Dominic—as a friend and as a partner, started becoming way too deep way too fast.

And honestly? It scared you. Your last relationship was in college and that didn’t go so well because you both had different outlooks on how you wanted to continue your life. You weren’t ever a relationship type of person and barely found yourself developing fucking crushes on people.

But you were crushing on Dominic. Hard.

As cliche as it sounds, being around him gave you literal butterflies. Seeing texts from him made you smile, and when his arms wrapped around you and he looked at you with all his teeth out, his eyes clenched shut—God. You were falling, and you were falling hard.

That was, until, Colson came into the mix.

You liked some of his music. You weren’t a big fan of “MGK”, and only really knew about him because of the whole beef he had with Eminem. You remembered that one song—fucking Wild Boy, being played in a few clubs and parties during college, but you didn’t have any liking towards him.

But... wow. He and Dominic together were a force to be reckoned with.

Colson was a good person. A loving father and a talented individual—not to mention he was also fucking hilarious too. Having him around in the studio guaranteed no bad days, because he could also make you feel better with a corny joke or a funny assortment of curse words.

You liked him, over time. Not to mention he was drop dead gorgeous, tall and tatted and pierced and just... fuck. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t intimidated by his presence.

But in reality, he was a sweetheart. A gentleman.

So why did you start feeling butterflies for him too?

Having a crush on two people just seemed so out of this world to you that you didn’t even understand it. It made no sense. You and Dominic had known each other longer, and you weren’t dumb—you knew he liked you back. But with Colson.. you didn’t know if those butterflies were in your stomach, or if they were somewhere were they definitely, definitely shouldn’t fucking be.

You were good at controlling yourself when it came to these two. It had been a few weeks since you’ve met Colson and two months since you met Dominic. They were working on music together—a song, that they didn’t know what to title yet, and you were right there, helping them with everything.

This also meant that they were together. All. Of. The. Time.

Having two extremely attractive men, men that you were also extremely attracted too together all the time was going to be very bad for your health. But all three of you had a main goal at the end of the day, and that was to make a song together. They wanted to make a song that pertained to them, that took both of their struggles and related them to each other. Being Dominic’s right-hand-man at this point, you were more than happy to oblige in helping.

But you just didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.

“Maybe some shit that’s like, kinda emo, kinda not?”

“Kells, man... you need to /make/ that make sense.”

You can’t help the laugh that leaves you, smiling when both of their heads turn towards you.

“Y’all are just cute when you bicker.”

“Y/NNNNN,” Colson whines a little, his arms stretching to drape over your body. God, he has so many tattoos that you couldn’t possibly count them on your two hands and feet. “Help us. I’ve never been this stuck on a song.”

“Well, a mix of punk and rap, right?” You asked, humming as you scoot up to your monitor, going through a list of sample beats you always stored when songs were being made.

“That sounds ‘bout right,” Dominic spoke, both of his elbows being placed on his knees as he looked up at you. “Think that’s a perfect mix of us two, yeah?”

You picked out some beats—layering some, taking some away. While this process could be therapeutic to you, it could be also quite annoying, and it would’ve been if it wasn’t for the two grown men looming over your shoulder.

“What about this one,” you almost jumped as you heard Colson right near your ear, his voice powered into a whisper. He reached over you, his skin brushing against yours and you had to force yourself to look at the screen. Jesus Christ, you really needed to get laid. “How’s that?”

“‘ts good. I like it fo’ now!” Dominic joked, and a laugh rumbled in you stomach. “If we don’t like it, we could always change it tomoro or somethin’.”

“Okay, well, beats settled... now we need some lyrics.” you spoke, backing up a little—you would’ve backed up farther if Colson’s arm wasn’t on the back of your chair. “Got any?”

Silence. You rolled your eyes—you had told them days prior to come with lyrics. Nothing had to rhyme, but something to make an idea off of.

“Too busy clubbing to write lyrics-great.” you huffed, shaking your head as you stood to leave, but two hands reached out to stop you.

“Sorryyy, that’s our fault, really.” Colson spoke, locking eyes with you when you turned to look at the both of them. “Let’s make some together, yeah? All three of us motherfuckers. You know we couldn’t make up good lyrics without you anyway.”

You caved. Goddammit, he was so good at charming you and so good at fucking /flirting/. You found yourself sitting back down with a notebook out in just a few minutes of playful begging from the two of them.

“Since I watched The Hills Have Eyes for the first time yesterday with you two wankstains, I think that should be incorporated into here~” Dominic giggled, scribbling down the title of the infamous horror movie on a piece of notebook paper. “Where did all that shit happen, by the way? New York, Cali, Las Ve-“

“No, dipshit, Nevada. Did you watch the movie at all?” Colson huffed, reaching over to flick Dominic in the center of his forehead, in which the British male playfully bit down on Colson’s finger. The blonde grinned, and your eyebrows furrowed. What the hell?

“Nevada’s by Cali so we’re using California.” Dominic shrugged, scribbling more words down. “How’s... I wunna hide in the hills of California—but these hills have eyes, and I have paranoia?”

It took you a minute but you eventually nodded at it. “If we revise it a little bit then—yeah, that could work!”

“Awesome! Maybe you should get on your shit, Kells.” Dominic teased him, pink tongue pointing out at Colson, and your lips twitched.

“Fuck off.” Colson continued that grin—that little smirk, like they both knew something you didn’t. The day dragged on—more lyrics, more laughing, more inside jokes. By the time the session ended you were exhausted, your head kinda hurt, and you wanted nothing more than to head home and sleep, but Dominic stopped you before you left completely.

“Are you alright?” he asked, your hand in his as he looked at you with slight worry. His hair was pushed back, so he looked just too adorable with his forehead out and crinkled. He was worried. Worried about you, and that made your heart flutter.

“I think I’m good, just a little tired,” you offered a reassuring smile, lifting your bag up to your shoulder. “Why?”

“You seemed a little out of it,” he remarked, keeping your hand in his as he started to walk next to you. This was normal—Dominic walking you out to your car, then watching you drive to your apartment after he gave you a kiss goodbye, of course; some of them were on your forehead, some cheeks, and most recently, he’s teasingly brushed his lips against yours, only to see you blush and frantically push him away. “Just making sure you’re alright.”

“I’ll be okay, Dom,” you snicker, but you just love the fact that he can see through you. See when you’re uncomfortable or feel weird. “Thanks, though.”

“Of course darlin’,” his voice has dropped in volume and when you look at him, his eyes are boring into yours. You blink. “Drive home safe, yeah?!”

Both of his hands grab your face, squishing your cheeks—and you sputter a laugh as he kisses all over your face. Covering your forehead, your nose, your cheeks—and finally resting at your lips.

It’s like time has stopped. You smile, feeling warm—his hands haven’t left your face and you can feel his warm breath against your mouth. He leans in closer, and you feel that familiar thrum in your chest, his lips brushing against yours one, two, three times, before he only pecks you and pulls away.

You don’t even remember closing your eyes, but when they open, he’s walking back into the building, leaving you feeling lost.

To make it up for you for yesterday, the dynamic duo wanted to spend the entire day getting a good portion of the song done. This meant you had to wake up at nine am to be at the studio, something you were definitely not looking forward to, but you couldn’t complain about it. You three had a pretty good work ethnic, so you knew once you would get there, time would probably fly by.

You came to the studio in some fuzzy Hello Kitty pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt, not bothering to dress up too much since you would possibly be here all day. You didn’t look your best, but by the way Dominic’s eyes scanned you when you walked into the studio, you doubted he really cared.

“Well hello kitty-kat,” you heard Colson’s amused tone from the small couch by the door behind you, his body approaching yours to walk past you. His hand slipped over your waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Doesn’t Y/N just look the absolute cutest.”

“Shut up, asshole.” You grumbled, your cheeks hot as you ditched your slippers and made your way to your seat. You stretched, hearing some bones crack in your back, a tired yawn leaving your lips before returning to your sitting position and opening up your notebook. “So. Where are we starting today?”

When you looked up, both of them looked a little dazed—but the expressions disappeared in just a few seconds. That was weird.

“Welllll, I think I’ve got a title,” Dominic grinned cheekily, standing up with his hands clasped. “I liked what ya said yesterday... I think I’m good. That sounds pretty—American, doesn’t it?”

“Eh...” you started, but quickly took it back when Dominic’s face fell almost comically. “No! It’s not bad, but, I don’t know... how about another word, other than good?”

“Fine?” Dominic asked, looking at you with a smirk. Confusion racked through you.

“Okay,” Colson spoke up, reading over the page of lyrics with narrowed, concentrated eyes. “I think I’m okay.”

You contemplated it. It reminded you of My Chemical Romance, but there wasn’t anything wrong with that... their fans would probably like that, too.”

“I think I’m okay. Yeah, I like that.” you smiled, moving to your monitor to title the beats you already had. I Think I’m Okay.

“Perfect.” you beamed. “Now let’s get to work.”

The day went by pretty smoothly. Dominic and Colson worked better than you thought, and in your opinion, you were the icing to their cake. Being a producer meant you were there to perfect things—add something to make them sound just a tad bit better, to make the song flow just a little smoother. Perfecting the beats was something you absolutely adored to do, especially when you felt them both staring at the side of your face as you did it.

They admired you. And that sent shivers down your spine.

“Jesus fuck, ‘m hungry.” you grumbled. The clock above your head read two pm, meaning you had been here for six hours total. It wouldn’t have seemed like that if your stomach wasn’t grumbling like crazy.

“We can tell.” Colson joked, his fingers poking at your tummy. “Kitty’s talking to us.”

You knew it didn’t mean to be an innuendo, but you took it that way, and you’re sure Dominic probably did too with the expression that crossed his face.

“I’ll order some pizza.” Dominic sung out, British accent flowing through the air as he stood to grab his phone and leave. You had been alone with Colson once before, but that was before you recognized your attraction towards the male. Now, you were very, very aware of the fact.

“Cmon kitty, you’ve been sitting in that chair for hours and I know that ass hurts,” Colson smirked knowingly, grabbing your hands to lift you out of your seat. “Lemme help you stretch~”

“I don’t need help, you damn skyscraper.” You said stubbornly, but Colson paid no mind to you, grabbing both of your arms and lifting them above your head. It did make you feel much better, and you would’ve stayed in the position if his long fingers didn’t suddenly dig in your sides and under your armpit.

“I-get off of me!” you laughed loudly, squirming in his tight hold as he squeezed you even closer to his body. You could feel his chest press against your back, but you weren’t focused on it, just how much you were laughing from his antics.

“Hell nah! I’ve barely seen you laugh today, kitty~” he purred into your ear, and your thighs clenched. “Keep on fighting, nothing will happen babe.”

“Fuck you!” you shouted, successfully finding your way out of his grasp, but that didn’t stop him at all. He grabbed you again and while he did so, you were moving backwards—eventually landing you both on the small couch in the room. You wiggled your arms through his grip, letting your fingers dig into his sides in a similar manner—and your smile hurt with how loud he started laughing afterwards. You were sure after the short five minutes the tickle attack took that you were all over the place, and so was he—panting on top of you with both arms over your body.

“You’re an asshole.” you murmured against his shoulder, since his body was draped over yours. You wished it would’ve stayed that way, because he lifted himself, and you turned into jelly with how he looked at you—and that stupid fucking grin that spread across his face.

“Got you to laugh, didn’t I?” he asked, rolling off of you. The warmth that left your body—from your stomach, ribs, and a few inches below your bra, told you that the tickle fight was much, much more than that.

A month had passed since that day. It was more then enough time for more tension filled encounters—more of Colson’s hands on you, more of Dominic’s teasing kisses. It had gotten so bad that you needed to excuse yourself in the middle of a session to calm yourself down in the bathroom, because holy hell. Those boys were a lot—and the fact you had the audacity to think about taking both of them at once. You literally could never.

The song wasn’t that hard to make. With a few more helping hands, plus your expertise and their work as well, it was nearly done. Final vocals just needed to be recorded and some cleans up—and then, I Think I’m Okay would be released to the world.

This Friday would be a night that all three of you would go out clubbing, but you decided to visit the studio to listen to the rough draft the two had recorded previously. You were in matching all black outfits which definitely wasn’t planned. The dress you were wearing was a bit out of your comfort zone, but you decided—why not? You wouldn’t be the only girl there and you knew you looked decent, at least.

“Wow,” you murmur, a little speechless as the rough vocals of I Think I’m Okay fill the studio at full volume. The lights are off because it’s dark, so the only source of light in the room is your monitor. “Wow. We fucked this up.”

“What?!” Dominic shouted, eyes wide. You laughed.

“Not in that way! I mean, we fucked this, in a really good way.” you said, excited, bouncing a little in your seat. “Fuuuck, can’t wait to release this shit.”

Colson’s hand is hot and heavy when you feel it against your thigh, playing with the hem of your dress. “Couldn’t do it without you, kitty.”

You swallow. No, not tonight. You were going to have fun tonight. Not be in a state of sexual frustration because of these two.

“Right,” Dominic hummed, and you freeze when his arm wraps around your waist, his chin on your shoulder. “Y/N, I never really thank ya properly for all you do for me, do I?”

“Huh? Of course you do.” you tell him, but you’re a bit distracted by Colson’s wandering hand. It shifts, moving to the inside of your thigh, rubbing softly at your skin. His thumb is close, too close to your pussy, but you don’t push his hand away, because you don’t want to.

You like it. You want his hand to come closer, just a little closer—

“I don’t,” Dominic whispers, those thick lips brushing against your ear, and you almost jump out of your skin. “I should.”

“Dom...” you whisper nervously, eyes widening when his hand slides to the middle of your back and up your spine, fingers locking at the zipper. The slide of your dress being unzipped goes along perfectly o the tempo of the song, and so does Colson’s molding of your thigh, his hand eventually finding way because your closed legs, pressing right up against your underwear.

“Think the kitty wants me,” Colson sighs huskily, and your jaw drops. Holy fuck. “Am I wrong?”

“Is he?” Dominic presses when you don’t answer, his hand somehow making its way inside your dress, finding its way to your sleeves and yanking them down. Oh, fuck. “Ya want us both, don’t ya darlin’?”

“Oh my god.” is all you can whisper, earning chuckles from both of the men who play so deviously with your body. Colson finds your clit with no help at all, pressing against the little bud, right as Dominic takes both of your breasts out of your bra and palms them hungrily. Two sets of hands touching you makes your head roll back, and you can only comply as one of Colson’s hands presses against your left thigh, spreading your legs open.

“Put your legs on the desk for me, pretty,” he whispers and you do so, heels still on your feet. “Mm, yeah, that’s good—damn, look at you. So fucking hot.”

To your surprise, it seems like Colson is doing most of the talking, since Dominic’s mouth finds itself on one your perked nipples. He sucks it into his mouth, making it all pert and wet and your toes curl against the velvet surface of your shoe.

“When I had you on that couch, I wanted to ram the shit out of you, even if you were wearing those stupid ass pants,” Colson tells you, slipping your panties to the side and dragging his fingers up your slit. You’re almost embarrassed from how wet you sound. “Had to remember the British cunt has a little crush on you, though. Didn’t wanna break his heart.”

“Fuck off, ya asshole.” Dominic’s mouth leaves your breast, cheeks red at the fact that he was just exposed like that. “I was gonna tell her that my fookin self!”

“You’re telling me she didn’t know?” Colson chuckled, one of his hands grabbing your chin to roll your head towards him. “Did you?”

“Mmf—I-I knew,” you murmured helplessly, your back aching as two long, thin fingers push inside of you, spreading themselves. “Always knew.”

“But I like you too, kitty, maybe like you even more than him,” Colson smirks, his mouth pressing against yours, and you bite down on his lip when Dominic bites down against your nipple. “Now we’re both gonna make our girl cum.”

Our girl.

You could cum from those words alone.

Colson’s fingers work magic inside of you, pressing further until you feel lightheaded, then easing themselves out and repeating the process. Dominic’s fingers find your clit, rubbing it quicker then the pink vibrator you used before even getting dressed. Your hands are against both of their thighs as your body grinds down against them, both of their mouths meeting yours at different times, kissing you or letting you moan out against their mouths. I Think I’m Okay plays over and over again with no one to stop it, hiding your loud sounds.

You’re close. So, so close, but you don’t want to cum without giving them some type of pleasure—so, to the best of your ability, you start to unzip their pants, bulges very angry underneath the fabric.

“Ooh, fook yeah,” Dominic whispers, taking his jeans off quickly and wrapping your hand around his cock, going cross eyed at the feeling. “Yeah, jerk my fuckin cock.”

Colson isn’t too far behind in revealing himself. You try to stroke them both, but you’re so overwhelmed that sometimes your pace quickens on one and slows on the other. Their bodies are pressed as tightly as they can be against yours, and sometimes wet fingers find their way against your neck, or grabbing at your chests—with wide open mouths against your face.

“I-I think I’m gonna cum,” your pant out, your hips rolling in circles and your grip on their cocks growing even tighter, causing them to make their own sounds of delight. “So close-“

“Cum, kitty kitty,” Colson tells you, his lips wrapping around your earlobe. “Soak this fucking chair, pretty.”

And that’s exactly what you do.

Dominic busts right after you, feeling your clit spasm against his fingers was enough to send him over the edge. Colson isn’t too far behind, getting extra leverage because of both of your cum covered hands jerking him off until he shoots his seed out as far as it can go. It’s a heavenly sight, and for the first time you hear him whimper—a sound that’ll be engraved in your mind for days.

You three sit there, panting, covered in sweat and cum. You lick your lips, your hearing picking up the two shifting to clean you up and dress you, much to your confusion.

“What? You think you were gonna cum once tonight and that would be it?” Colson chuckled, already helping you out of your chair.

“Just wait till we get to this club,” Dominic continues, his hand tightly groping your ass. “You’re gonna have the night of your fucking life.”

And you’re certain that you will.

#dominic harrison #yungblud #yungblud fanfiction #dominic harrison fanfiction #yungblud imagine #colson baker #mgk #mgk smut #colson baker smut #mgk fanfiction #mgk imagine #mgk x reader #yungblud x reader

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egyptsblackrose · 3 years

Text

Dancing with Strangers

Ok here’s part 2 I guess, this is a bit longer than the first one, I was listening to the playlist again and kinda got into the zone. This chapter is where things get a little hotter but theres no sexy time still...I don’t know do you guys want that? Do you want more plot? I don’t know how long I wanna make this story guess I’ll leave it up to you guys so let me know what you think. Also the image included is one I drew digitally from a template found on Pinterest, if you repost or use it please give just mention me :)

Warnings: swearing in this one, very suggestive behaviour and language, nothing to spicy

Like to Part 1 here-https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/648370506842701824/dancing-with-strangers-ok-so-theres-a-playlist

Part 2-

You were grinning from ear to ear, a gentle happy buzz fizzing under your skin as you entered the heat of the club your friends insisted was the best in town. Been an exchange student in a very different country like Japan could have been a scary experience for anyone, but you had actually spend some of your young life living in Hiroshima and made life long friends, 2 of which were currently pulling on your hands to lead you to the bar as they laughed loudly. Japanese was your second language, one you adored and had kept practicing through the years, and when the chance came to study at the same uni as your best friends for your final year, you couldn’t buy the plane ticket fast enough!

“Y/N! What are you drinking?!” Miku shouted to you over the music, Sakura already flirting with the barman.

“Same as before, just a vodka and coke please Mi-Mi.” She nodded and turned to Sakura, yelling at her to order the drinks already. You couldn’t help but smile and shake your head at your friends antics. They never seemed to change, no matter how many years passed.

Taking a look around the club, you was somewhat relieved that the crowd on the dance floor wasn’t too crazy. You could hold your liquor pretty well, hence why you weren’t as effected as the others in your group, and you didn’t want to loose people in the crowd.

A sudden shiver took over your body, heat stroking your skin like a touch, trailing over your form. Not so surprising, people were often surprised to see a foreigner in the clubs, so you brushed it off. Taking the drink Miku had bought you for her round, your group cheered and took a drink. As “Such a Whore” finished, you and your friends cheered as “Sexy chick” began, quickly finishing your drinks and heading to the dance floor.

———

Blue and black eyes roamed the foreign beauty with no attempt at hiding their interest. She was stunning; her lush hair shimmering in the flashing lights and flowing with every move she made, dressed in something skin tight and pretty to show off her curves but not too revealing and flashy, make-up made to look natural and only flatter her already pretty features. Her body rolled in controlled rhythms to match the beat, her feet shuffling. God she was a sight for sore eyes.

Her face lit up as she and the group surrounding her recognised the beginning of “Lights down low”. Then the real show began. It was like she rehearsed the dance before, singing along to the sinful words. Gojo licked his bottom lip slowly, his blue eyes glued to the way she threw her head back and grinned cheekily at no one. Kakashi couldn’t stop staring at how her hips snapped and thrust like she was acting out the song from both male and female perspectives, his hand tightening dangerously on the glass bottle now finished in his hand. Images of possibilities filled their minds.

“Damn,” Gojo sighed almost to himself.

Kakashi nodded in agreement anyway. “Please tell me you don’t want her for yourself.”

Gojo grin was devilish. “Now where’s the fun in that?” He chuckled, passing his brother another beer he’d just bought, sipping as the foreign beauty dancing like a damn belly dancer to “Culo”. “Do you wanna try make the first move this time?”

The other white haired male shook his head. “Wouldn’t want to risk loosing this one.” Gojo patted his back good natured lay. He was proud of how far his best friend had come in his confidence and prowess, but he knew he had a way to go yet.

“I know what you mean though pal, what a catch.” His blue eyes narrowed at some men clearly eye-fucking you. “I’m gonna make our play before one of those wolves takes a bite.” Kakashi levelled the group was a fierce glare of his own, nodding in approval. This was their hunting ground after all, others had to wait their turn and take the scraps.

Handing his half empty bottle to his still glaring friend, Gojo gracefully weaved through the crowd, gently easing past the many women trying to dance with him. He was determined, his goal set, eyes locked on you.

Your friends span you, making you laugh, but you paused for a second to grin as “Promiscuous” opened up. What you hadn’t expected was a very hot, very pleasant voice to gently sing the beginning “How you doing young lady,” into your ear.

Surprised, you turned only to pause as the most amazing blue eyes you’d ever seen pierced through your gaze and stared right at your soul. Your cheeks heated as the man grinned, pleased at your staring and continued his singing. Blinking to clear your mind from the surprise and shock that a damn MODEL was hitting on you, you began singing too.

“You expect me to just let you hit it, but will you still respect me if you get it.” Your tone held a warning in there somewhere, wether he picked up on it over the volume was another matter. The white haired beauty before you laughed cheerfully, smoothly taking your hand and spinning you to face away from him, before pulling you back so you were pressed up to him.

“I’m curious about you, you seem so innocent.” He teased, hands squeezing your hips. You didn’t even pause, singing the reply but focused more on moving your body to the beat, and into his. “Promiscuous girl, your teasing me. You know what I want, and I got what you need.” He growled in your ear, causing your spine and insides to shudder in delight. You tilted your head back and laughed, only hitting his chest. God this guys tall.

You dipped to the floor and brought yourself up elegantly against him, now facing the dazzling stranger with a teasing grin of your own. “I’m a big girl I can handle myself, but if I get lonely imma need your help. Pay attention to me, I don’t talk for my health.”

The male’s grin turned hungry, his large hands dragging up the side of your body from your hip, tracing your collarbone, before wrapping his hand around your throat. There was no pressure, he just rested his big hand there, engulfing your neck easily, making you look at him as he bit his lip. “The names Gojo Satoru, and you beautiful, can call me Sensei.”

“My names L/N Y/N, not beautiful, flattery only gets you so far...onii-san.” You smirked back as the song changed to “Where have you been”.

Gojo smiled genuinely, letting out a long hum of amusement. “Then let me start by buying you a drink beautiful, I left my brother all alone at the bar just to try talk to you.”

Laughing, you raised a brow. “Talk? Yeah right. I’m sorry but I’m out with my friends, and I don’t want to leave them, I’m the most sober one after all-”

“Of course she’ll have a drink!” Miku all but screamed excitedly. You turned to her with a frown, opening your mouth to refuse, but she grabbed your arm and whispered loudly in your ear. “He’s Gojo Satoru, and his friend is Kakashi Hatake! They’re like small time celebs around here, they’re both hot as fuck and close. Like REALLY close, they only ever take a girl home who they both want, they know what the fuck they're doing too and they’re policemen! Trust me, go with them and thank me later! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Miku all but pushed you into Gojo waiting arms, the male chuckling charmingly at the scene. You watched as your group of friends gave you thumbs up and shooed you away, Sakura and Miku blowing you kisses and winks. “What the?”

“So, what can I get you beautiful?” Gojo purred in your ear to distract you, his arm wrapping comfortably around your shoulders and leading you back to Kakashi who had ordered another drink, and was straightening out his shirt and hair out of nervousness. “Don’t worry, just one drink, anything you want and if your not having fun by the end of it, then I’ll escort you back to your friends myself.”

You bit your lip, about to glance back at your friends to check on them, when another handsome white haired male gently smiled at you, with stunning black eyes, an adorable beauty mark on his chin, a dangerous scar over one eye and a perfect jawline. “One drink wont hurt then, I guess.” You replied, almost shyly as you stood between both men, leaning against the bar.

One drink turned into four, and they were not drunk quick ether. You had lost track of time and songs playing as Gojo and Kakashi bantered easily, always keeping you involved and centre of attention. You were beyond grateful that you could hold your liqueur and hadn’t being going crazy like your friends, it made it easy to follow along with the conversation. You were quick to pitch in effortlessly with cheeky and teasing remarks that had the 2 men both in stitches with laughter, and enamoured with you all at once. Most women were happy to sit and giggle, focus on looking pretty and flirt with suggestive touching, not really focus on what they were saying. You were intelligent, modest and sweet with undertones of naughty delight. It excited both men more than anything had in a while.

When a more suggestive song came through the speakers, Gojo sent Kakashi a discrete look, both leading you to the dance floor after your drinks were finished. Once in their favourite spot, their stage was set to begin the best part of the hunt. This part was more than just seduction, this was about using the music, their words, bodies and heat to turn yours on to the max, until you couldn’t take it anymore. And their favourite spot held just enough cover and darkness to keep all sinful acts a secret.

You inhaled sharply as Gojo’s large hands spread over the front of your thighs, pulling firmly so your back and body were pressed into him, while Kakashi’s rough hands gripped your waist, one of his legs pressing between your own. The two moved in synch perfectly like a well oiled machine, Gojo rolling his body into yours as his feet shuffled. The roll forward would drive you into Kakashi, and more importantly your core onto his firm muscular thigh. The male in front of you would gently shuffle and thrust forward as well, the action meaning there was absolutely no space between you and their hot hard bodies. Their hands would guide and encourage your own dancing, focusing on your hips and slow movements that was driving them just as wild.

You felt like you were melting from the inside out, there was a craving for more deep within you, and it was burning hotter the more they teased. Fingers would lightly graze your breasts and a insincere “sorry” would be breathed into your ear through a smirk, lips would brush your neck, hands would squeeze and tighten their grips at random intervals, keeping you tense and senses focused on them and them alone.

Only when you were a dazed, panting mess did Gojo deem you wooed enough, and Kakashi insisted on getting you another drink. At some point, Gojo had picked you up by your hips as Kakashi had pulled up a bar stool for you, easing it under you. The action was so quick and effortless for both men you couldn’t help but blush, especially as Kakashi kept a hand gently resting on the small of your back, drawing soothing circles there. Gojo’s hand was rested on your thigh as well, like it was nothing, and smirked at you now not hanging to look up so much to meet their eyes.

You stuck your tongue out at him in response. “Careful beautiful, I might just take that tongue if you don’t watch out.” He growled hotly into your ear. Holy-

“I think she’d like that Sato.” Kakashi grinned, groaning the words into your ear. You’d noticed how he’d relaxed more and more as the night went on, becoming a little bolder with you when he saw you weren’t pushing him away or favouring Gojo. The touches were turning less and less innocent or ‘accidental’, and the way they looked at you... Gojo had no shame, staring hungrily at each and every curve, licking his lips hungrily as his hands would skim the line between teasing and inappropriate, working slowly to drive you crazy. His blue eyes drank in every hitch in breath, every shudder, his own patience thinning as he watched your perfect teeth graze your wet lips. Kakashi had a different approach, he wanted the eye contact, he want you to look into his eyes and see he wanted you. “She’s panting, poor thing.”

You hadn’t noticed how your chest was rising and falling rapidly, too busy trying to hide the fact of how turned on you were caught between these gorgeous men. “Your right brother, her thighs are clenching too. What images are forming in that naughty mind of yours beautiful? Care to share? We’d be happy to make them reality, wouldn’t we Hatake?”

The most sinful, hungry groan rumbled through your ear in response as Kakashi stood forward and shielded your body from view of everyone else in the club, sneakily easing a hand up your thigh. Up and up and- you gasped, the single finger making you jump and let out a whimper. “God yes, I want her to make more of those sounds Sato.

“I’ve already called a taxi.” Gojo said lowly, pushing his body into your side so you could feel every hard line and ridge of his toned form, and something poke your arse. “You ready to go beautiful?”

All you could do was nod, too afraid of how desperate you’d sound if you tried to speak. Downing the rest of your drinks, you squeaked as Kakashi eased you off the stool and immediately directed you towards the exit, Gojo leading the way to the taxi and opening the door for you, both always touching you as your legs wobbled and mind raced.

Part 3 - https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/648557120920354817/a-rose-by-any-other-name

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