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sadprose-auroras · 7 months

Note

hiiii i was wondering if i could make a request for a hazel x reader where reader is beaten up by someone not from fight club and hazel gets really protective and rounds up the rest of the club to retaliate

Hey, thank you for your request! Sorry it took a hot min, this one took on a life of its own. Not sure how I feel about it tbh, but please let me know what you think! xx

Content warning: targeted violence, themes of bullying, cursing

Word count: 3.7k

You were well aware that Jeff, star quarterback, most popular guy in school, widely celebrated asshole, completely had it in him to take his bullying way too far. You couldn’t ever forget the first time you saw him beat somebody to a pulp.

It was eighth grade, and you were an awkward, shy thing, just trying to navigate schoolwork and friendships. To put it simply, you were figuring out who you were and your place in the world. There were so many questions swirling around in your head. Why did you feel an immense swirling sensation in your tummy when your classmate, Hazel Callahan, would sit next to you in class when nobody else would? Was it normal to be so deeply enamoured by the clothes she wore, her hairstyle, her school supplies, so much so that you would try and emulate an outfit she’d worn, to beg your mom for a haircut like hers, to buy the same pencil case she had, just because she was the coolest person you knew? Reflecting back, of course, you had a crush on her, and didn’t know how to express it. But at the time, you thought you just really wanted to be her best friend and not leave her side for a moment.

At this awkward pre-pubescent stage, Jeff and all his football buddies seemed to be way older, more mature, and you were terrified of them. Jeff, especially. He had always been a bully, shoving kids out of his way in the school halls and calling people derogatory names. But he only seemed to be getting worse. And every time you passed him in the hallway, your heart was in your throat as you kept your head down and walked faster. Was this the time he was going to target you?

One day, you were in the schoolyard, sitting on a bench with Hazel chatting about a book that Hazel had lent to you. One that, to your surprise and deep excitement, included two of the girl characters sharing a kiss on the lips. Vampires, at that. You thought that was the coolest thing ever. You’d read that same passage over and over, enthralled at that even being a possibility. It had crossed your mind that you really wanted to kiss Hazel like that.

“So… did you like it?” she asked with an expectant smile. You nodded incessantly.

“Oh my god, it was AMAZING! The vampires were SO cool, Kali and Anna were my favourite characters by far! I wanna be a vampire,” you gushed, flushing a deep shade of red when Hazel giggled.

“Dude, I knew you’d say that!” she said. “You so don’t wish you were a vampire, you love the sun!” You laughed and shrugged. She was completely right.

“You know me well, Haze,” you laughed.

“Hey?” Hazel asked, chewing on the end of the straw on her juice box. She looked nervous.

“Hm?”

“I have to tell you something.” Your heart started going a million miles an hour.

“What is it?”

“Well-“ before she could finish, a commotion out of the corner of your eye caught both of your attentions. You whipped your head around to see a large group gathered around two people on the floor. It was Jeff, holding down a kid and punching him. Over. And over. And over. You quickly realised it was a boy in your English class, Thomas, who you’d never really talked to but was a shy nerd like you. He seemed nice; he had lent you a pencil once. To your horror, he didn’t even seem to be moving. And Jeff was cackling. Maniacally.

“Oh god, what do we do?” you asked frantically. “We should get a teacher, right?” Although there were a bunch of kids cheering him on, it didn’t feel right.

“Yeah, come on!” Hazel said, grabbing your hand and dragging you behind her as you rushed off together to find a teacher. You couldn’t tell if it was the handholding, or the life and death situation, that was giving you more adrenaline.

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

Now that you were all seniors, you were only more terrified of Jeff. He had never targeted you, luckily, but you had witnessed his increasing violent nature towards many of your other classmates. As for Hazel, the vampire book situation all those years ago had been somewhat of an awakening for you; you were totally, completely in love with your best friend. You never, ever told her though, your fear of rejection outweighing anything else. The closest you got was telling her you liked girls when you were having a sleepover for your sixteenth birthday. There was something about sleepovers that made you feel like you could talk about things you usually weren’t brave enough to. To your delight, she told you the exact same thing moments later.

Shockingly, you and Hazel had finally branched out and spoke to people besides each other. Your other friends, PJ and Josie, made you a perfect little foursome. You had bonded over your respective codependent friendships. You first heard about the fight club when PJ and Josie told you and Hazel over lunch that they had created a self-defence club to sleep with cheerleaders.

“We’re teaching them how to defend themselves, next thing we know, Isabel and Brittany are kissing us on the mouths!” PJ addressed Josie, flailing her arms around.

“Can we join?” you asked, then realised how that sounded, laughing. “I mean-“

Hazel squinted at you from the sun, furrowing her brows in confusion. Your heart skipped a beat; her eyes particularly sparkled in the sunshine.

“You want both of us” – she pointed back and forth between herself and you – “to join those two” – she gestured at PJ and Josie – “in kissing Brittany and Isabel!?”

“No, no,” you say quickly. “The club. Can we join the club?”

“Yeah, sure!” Josie said.

“I mean, I guess, except we don’t want the losers to outweigh everyone else. No offense,” PJ says, and you shrug, entirely not offended.

“You’re not wrong,” you chuckle. “We are decidedly losers.”

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

Despite the murky intentions PJ and Josie had for starting the club, it began to take on a life of its own. The mismatched groups of girls really began to bond, and you found yourself emotionally fulfilled in a new way that you hadn’t really experienced before. Being able to talk about deep things with a group of girls you knew had your back, and vice versa, was life changing. You noticed a significant difference in how you felt at school. Before, you were on edge most of the time and relatively lonely in a lot of your classes. Now, you had people to sit with, to say ‘hi’ to in the hallways. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders that you didn’t know existed.

One evening after a particularly long club meeting, you were the last one to leave, packing up after everybody else had left. You were humming to yourself as you worked, the warm feeling you had inside from hanging out with your friends still lingering. It was ironic how beating each other up brought you so close. Once you finished, you left the gym, backpack slung over your shoulder and keys in hand as you walked into the carpark. You noticed a figure moving in your general direction out of the corner of your eye but didn’t think much of it; there were lots of people still around school, coming out of their extracurriculars. Just as you had unlocked your car, the footsteps neared, and you whipped around to be met with Jeff standing over you threateningly. You gulped.

“May I help you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even as not to show how terrified you were of him.

“Yeah, actually,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ve had enough of your little girls group taking attention away from football. You’re all over the school, and it’s done. You’re all done.”

“I don’t know what you expect us to do,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” You shoved him away, going to get into your car. Before you could, he reached out and pushed the door closed.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, and your heart sank.

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

The first place you thought to go after Jeff beating you up was Hazel’s house. You practically sped to get there, unable to stop the sobs wracking your body. As you pulled into her driveway, you let out a sigh of relief noticing that her mum’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Barely stopping to take off your seatbelt before rushing out of the car, you ran up to the door and rang the doorbell twice in a row. It didn’t take long for you to hear footsteps, and the door swung open to Hazel dressed in sweatpants and a cozy jumper. She murmured your name, eyes scanning your face with concern.

“What happened?”

Without speaking, you practically fell into her arms in a hug, only crying harder. She engulfed you with her arms, stroking your hair comfortingly.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” she whispered, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You hiccupped, pulled away from the hug and wiped some tears from your eyes with your sleeve.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You wordlessly took Hazel’s outstretched hand, following her to the bathroom. You hoisted yourself up onto the sink, swinging your legs. Hazel started collecting supplies: damp cloths, antiseptic, band aids, bruise ointment. As you watched her, face deep in concentration as she murmured to herself about what she needed, you felt a surge of love for her.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice dripping with sincerity. She looked at you funnily as if to say, you don’t need to thank me, don’t be ridiculous.

“Okay, I’m just going to-“ she said gently, stepping between your legs and beginning to gently dab the blood off your face. As she worked, you watched her, suppressing tears at the realisation that you couldn’t feel any safer and protected with her by your side. God, you loved her. As she applied antiseptic, she shook her head in disbelief.

“Who did this to you?” she asked, visibly seething.

“Jeff,” you said quietly, lip quivering. Steam practically blew out of Hazel’s ears. Her movements ceased for a moment, and she pressed her lips tightly together.

“He deserves to die,” she said matter of factly.

“I don’t disagree,” you murmur.

“Hey?” you ask, making eye contact with her. You realise how truly close your faces are, and your heart rate increases rapidly. You let out a shuddering breath, trying to keep your composure.

“Can I stay here tonight, please?” you ask, desperately trying to suppress the urge to be embarrassed. You just really didn’t want to be alone.

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask, you know that.” Her voice was so gentle, you practically melted.

“Thanks, Haze,” you said, as she finished cleaning you up.

“All done,” she said, beginning to pack away everything. You hop off the bench, taking the painkillers and water she hands you gratefully.

“Thank you,” you say as you pop the tablets into your mouth and swallow them with a big gulp of water.

“Stop thanking me,” Hazel chuckled lightly. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” You followed her to her bedroom, suddenly feeling unusually nervous. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t slept in each other’s beds before. Sleepovers were a major part of your friendship when you were younger, and more recently were particularly convenient when you got a little too drunk to get home. Perhaps there was something about the added layer of vulnerability to your state that was making you feel shyer with your best friend. As you contemplated this, shuffling back and forth on your feet, Hazel retrieved a soft t-shirt and shorts for you to wear to bed. She threw them at you, and you caught them with a soft smile.

“Thanks, dude.” You moved into an alcove in the corner of her room, turning to face the wall as you heard Hazel shuffling around, presumably getting changed as well. You desperately fought the urge to turn around, unsure if the tension in the room you could feel just at the thought of you both getting changed at the same time was in your head. But you swore, you could feel it. You pulled Hazel’s shorts up, tying them at the waist and trying to ignore the fact that the t-shirt she had lent you smelt like her. Although it was difficult not to. You folded your clothes, placing them on a chair, then turned around to find Hazel in a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms and a white tank top, sitting on her bed scrolling on her phone.

“You look cute,” she remarked in an indecipherable tone, and you couldn’t entirely tell if she was joking or not. Since eighth grade, you’d definitely developed your own style apart from Hazel’s, and her clothes on you were not your style at all. You poked you tongue out at her, as you walked over and got under the covers, snuggling down. It was easier to fall back into your friendship as it had always been in those moments, where you were unsure if she was feeling the same way. Otherwise, you might have to actually confess your own feelings, which was completely terrifying.

Hazel followed your lead, placing her phone down on the nightstand and pushing the covers back so she could get in, pulling them up to her chin and turning over to face you. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Thank you for everything, Haze,” you said, shutting your eyes. If you looked into hers for a second longer you might actually explode.

“I’d do anything for you,” she whispered, so softly you could barely hear it. Before you knew it, you were drifting off.

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The next morning you awoke to sun pouring in the curtains, and you slowly opened your eyes, stretching your back and yawning. Despite the events of last night, you actually slept better than you had in weeks. The pain in your face had subsided a lot already. You rolled over to face Hazel’s side of the bed, heart sinking when you found it empty. Confused, you rolled back over and reached for your phone, touching the screen. Realisation flooded in. It was 9:00am on a Thursday. A text from Hazel was waiting for you, which she had sent half an hour earlier.

morning! i let you sleep, hope that’s okay. wasn’t sure if u were gonna go to school today. text me if you need anything <3

You smiled softly to yourself, eyes focused on the heart she sent a little longer than necessary. You quickly replied.

Thank youuuu, needed that sleep in. I think I will come to school, I’ll see you for second period probs xx

After hitting send, you got out of bed, making sure to make it neatly before deciding to go and quickly take a shower. After you stripped out of your clothes and waited for the water to warm up, you took a moment to examine your face in the mirror. It felt significantly better than last night, as if Hazel’s touch was magic. The bruising around your eyes was starting to come out, you had a small cut on your cheekbone, and the eye that you could barely open last night was much less swollen. You stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to relax your muscles with a sigh.

Little did you know, as you were sleeping that morning, Hazel had called an emergency meeting of the fight club. She was on a mission, and absolutely nothing was going to stop her. All she kept seeing in her mind’s eye was your face when you showed up on her doorstep, beaten and bloody, sniffling, eyes brimming with tears. To see you like that, the person she loved more than anyone in the world, shattered her heart. She had to get revenge, and she needed some help.

“Are we all clear on the plan?” Hazel asked, looking around at the group. It felt strange for the whole club to be there with you missing; she certainly noticed your absent presence. Normally, you’d be next to her, sitting cross-legged, and tapping your fingers on your leg like you do, exchanging glances with Hazel when something funny happened. She basically ached at the thought.

“Let’s fucking do it!” PJ yelled, banging the handle of a broom on the ground. Everyone else cheered and clapped in agreement.

“Let’s kill him,” Isabel said, narrowing her eyes with determination. She had her own reasons to want to do this.

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

By the time you pulled into the carpark at school, the bell was just ringing, indicating the end of the first period. You weren’t going to lie, you were nervous about running into Jeff, but you prayed that there were enough people around during the actual school day that he couldn’t get you again. Just as you stepped out of your car, you heard a commotion coming from behind you. You frowned, swinging your backpack over your shoulder to follow the noise of people shouting. Rounding the corner to the other side of the carpark, your hand flew to your mouth. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Hazel, along with all your friends from fight club, were stood over a football-uniform clad guy on the ground, who you couldn’t see from your angle. As other students had gathered around to watch, whooping and cheering, your friends were taking turns to punch, kick, stomp on, and slap the guy on the ground.

“THAT’S FOR CHEATING ON ME WITH MY SISTER!” Isabel cried out, kicking hard. That’s when it dawned on you; the guy on the ground, who was barely moving, unable to get out of the girls’ grips, was Jeff.

“THAT’S FOR Y/N!” Hazel yelled, in a voice you had never heard her use before, swinging both of her fists down hard on Jeff’s face multiple times. You approached the group, pushing past the onlooking crowd. You couldn’t believe how many people were supporting this. The way Jeff was thoroughly worshipped in school was obscene. Perhaps everybody was just waiting for someone to get back at him first. You approached your friends, taking a deep breath to yourself. They all turned to look at you as Josie was kicking Jeff in the head blood dripping from his mouth. Isabel was watching on proudly. You placed your hand on Hazel’s shoulder, and she spun around.

“Hey,” you murmured, smiling softly.

“I-uh-“ she began, as if she was about to explain herself, then you shook your head.

“Can I get in on this?” you asked, and she visibly relaxed, grinning.

“You’re not mad?”

“Fuck, no! You’re so brave for doing this, to be the first to give him what he deserves.” With that, you turned your attention to the guy lying on the ground, smiling at the sight of him groaning, bleeding, looking like absolute death.

“Hey, remember me?” you asked, before bringing your fist down on his face. Hard. And then again. And then again. And once more. Your friends, as well as the crowd watching on, cheered you on. The last punch you threw caused Jeff’s head to fall to the side as he passed out. You stood up proudly, looking around at your friends.

“I love you guys,” you grinned, and you all engulfed each other in a big group hug, all congratulating each other and saying how much you all loved each other. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Hazel’s hand resting on the small of your back. You all pulled away, and as everybody fell into chatter you grabbed Hazel’s hand and pulled her with you away from the crowd.

“Where are we going?” she asked with a laugh, awkwardly trailing behind you in a half jog, half walk.

“Here,” you said breathlessly, stopping when you rounded a corner to a quiet spot.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Your voice was still breathless, your head spinning with anticipation. It was now or never. Before Hazel could respond, you leant against the brick wall of the building behind you, pulling her toward you by her waist. She cupped your face, and your lips met. Desire pooled in your stomach as your lips slotted together perfectly, moving together in sync. Her lips were way softer than they looked, and you had spent a lot of time looking at them.

Hazel pulled away slightly, and you instinctively chased her lips. She smirked, eyes scanning your face. You flushed deeply.

“Oh my god,” she said in that voice that made you want to melt into the floor, and you laughed in disbelief.

“I know,” you whispered before kissing the corner of her mouth. She smiled at this, pushing a strand of your hair out of your eyes. If it was anybody else, you would feel insecure about your swollen eye and bruised face, you would worry that you weren’t attractive, but it didn’t cross your mind once with Hazel. She made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

“I didn’t know-“ you both started to say at the same time, then giggled. You were literally giddy.

“You go,” you said.

“I didn’t know you liked me.”

“I didn’t know you liked me,” you replied, laughing.

“Do you remember-“ Hazel started, then cleared her throat. “Do you remember that book I lent you in eighth grade about those gay vampires?”

“That was literally my gay awakening,” you said with a laugh, unable to believe that she remembered that. “Wait, what does that-“

“I’ve been in love with you since then,” Hazel suddenly said, and your heart caught in your throat. You pulled Hazel even closer to you by her belt loops, and she gasped. You kissed her more passionately this time, your head spinning.

“I’m in love with you too,” you murmured when you pulled away, foreheads resting together.

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #hazel callahan imagine #bottoms fanfic #hazel callahan smut

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 22 days

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Oh no, what happened to Trickster? I'm not up on DC Comics.

Ooooh, boy, where do I start?

Original Trickster James Jesse has been largely missing since New 52/Rebirth/whatever latest continuity reboot. He was dead for quite awhile before that (having been killed protecting Pied Piper in the largely shitty Countdown event), and seemed to be non-existent in the new continuity, with Axel as the main Trickster. And Axel is a cute lil' guy, but James is my Trickster of choice.

He finally came back in Josh Williamson's run, in a story arc called "The Greatest Trick of All," which revealed that James had been locked up in Iron Heights for years, tormented by Warden Wolfe, who was basically using him to test their security measures. Then he escaped and has been building a little criminal empire, and somehow using the Sage Force to brainwash people. When he makes his big move, he brainwashes most of Central City into mindless happiness, while his select group of Rogues loot the city. Oh, and he was also dating a police officer while using his actual (stage) name James Jesse (which makes no fucking sense, even with Trickster long out of the public eye that name should have run some bells), and it is implied that she was also brainwashed, which means some serious consent issues if they ever slept together.

Williamson's version of James was generally MUCH nastier than he has been in the past. It can be partially justified by him spending so much time in Iron Heights alone and forgotten, but it's still taking the character to a shitty place. JJ was always an asshole, and his "reform" in the 90's mostly happened because he was afraid of going to Hell and meeting a certain demon with a grudge against him. But he still tended to be one of the less violent Rogues who never killed anyone to my knowledge. (If you only know JJ from the Flash TV show, ignore that, Mark Hamill is great but the show got JJ really wrong). Williamson pushed James into a dark and cruel territory, and had him doing things like shoving his abusive parents off a building (Flash saved them).

Williamson also added this new trait of James seducing women and using them as part of his plans. He did it with the police officer, he also recounts dating a lab tech from Star Labs to steal information to make his anti-grav shoes, and THAT is a retcon that DEEPLY pissed me off. James MADE the original shoes, both compressed air and anti-grav lift versions on his own, because he is very, very smart, despite acting like a silly little guy. AXEL is the Trickster who got his start by stealing someone else's tech, and while Axel has modified the Trickster gear and made some of his own stuff since then, James is the one who invented it all on his own, and Williamson basically took that away from him.

Going after women was also never one of James' character traits. He is an all-purpose con-man that fools everyone, but he never targeted women specifically prior to Williamson. In fact, 90's James arguably drank his Respect Women juice. He helped Catwoman with a job, developed a crush on her which he expressed by blurting out this long speech about how he thinks she's amazing, figured out her secret identity and kept quiet about it, and donated a bunch of money to a charity that he thinks she would approve of. All without necessarily expecting her to fall into bed with him, or getting angry when she doesn't. 90's James also flew across the world when he heard that his former girlfriend Mindy Hong was in trouble, and helped rescue her son (who also turns out to be JJ's son). James was not someone who went out of his way to mistreat women.

Williamson also wrote the Black Label Rogues mini-series, a depressing noncanon future story where Captain Cold gathers people for "one more job" and gets most of them killed. Future James in that one is performing a stage show, seducing rich old ladies to sponge off their money, and is portrayed as basically the worst out of the group - such a shitty dude that Golden Glider kills him and no one cares.

It's funny, in an interview Williamson said of James, "I love him," but that statement was immediately followed by "He's just a crazy asshole." Williamson obviously does NOT love James, or else hasn't read anything with him prior to Countdown, and his portrayal of the character seems closer to the serial killer Mark Hamill version. He strips away any kind of heart or likability from the character and makes him "just a crazy asshole," like a less interesting Joker. He made James significantly worse than he had been even in his pre-reform days, and the "darker edgier" Trickster isn't even particularly interesting. So yeah, I want Josh Williamson to never write most of the Rogues again, but especially keep his hands off James Jesse.

The James Jesse Trickster is definitely one of those characters where I'm like, "I love this dude, but only in these specific runs, and then he hasn't been written well in 20 years."

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blue-jisungs · 2 years

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2K FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION :D (CLOSED)

first of all i’d like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who’s been interacting with my work!! and obviously, enjoying my content&&following me!! it’s unbelievable to me that 2k people now appreciate my writing (and my personality too i guess😌🤚)

that’s why i decided to do a small ask game! below i gathered a bunch of prompts and threw in some of my ideas!!

here’s how it works (although i think you know how such games work): you send me an ask. simple as that! now, the rules are simple as well. you just have to write a number with a prompt or quote it + a member. you can ask for up to 3 dialogue prompts and up to 3 action prompts (you can request them all together tho, eg. prompt nr 71, 75 and 40 for dialogue with nr 7 and 38 for action)

when it comes to members i write for bts, enha, skz, txt aaaaand *drum roll* svt!! i thought it’s gonna be a good opportunity to start writing for them as well :D

so, here’s the list (sorry for such a long intro ㅠㅠ). also!! the ones in cursive are my faves hehe :D

DIALOGUE

“shit, wait… i’ll patch you up”

“it reminded me of you”

“i’ll walk you home”

“can i have this dance?”

“can i hold your hand?”

“i’ve got you”

“we’ll figure this out, i promise”

“you owe me”

“be careful”

“i think i picked up your coffee by mistake”

“wait, are you jealous?”

“you’re kinda cute… you know, only kinda”

“can you come with me? i don’t wanna go on my own”

“i like my shirt on you, it looks cute”

“tell me about your day. let me make it better”

“you’re staring again”

“i missed you so much”

“im going to marry you one day”

“the bed is cold without you”

“can you carry me up to bed…?”

“i like having you here”

“i’m all yours. not going anywhere”

“it’s okay, you can sit here with me for as long as you’d like”

“just trust me, yeah?”

“will you just… hold me? please”

“let me take care of you, okay?”

“i can never say no to you”

“please look at me”

“why are you so stubborn?”

“oh don’t get so shy now”

“"what are you do-“ “look, now we match!”

“...who do I need to punch?”

“kiss me, old man”

“just one kiss?”

“hey, what's wrong? talk to me”

“i promised, didn’t i?”

“we have a problem”

“i just want to go home”

“i’ll protect you”

“that feels nice”

“don’t get up. i’m comfortable like this”

“i came as soon as i could”

“i don't think I'll ever get used to waking up next to you”

“wanna bet?”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“i’m only here for the dog”

“my mom adores you”

“is that… my shirt?”

“i’m sorry, what were you saying? i keep getting distracted because of your lips”

“say that again”

“don’t be ridiculous, there’s enough room on this bed for both of us”

“you might be an idiot but you're my idiot”

“did you just… bite me?”

“i’m not even that drunk…”

“make me”

“please tell me this is not why you woke me up”

“i have troubles falling asleep without you next to me”

“but admit it, you love it/me”

“did you just kiss me?”

“why are you avoiding me?”

“are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?”

“you’re acting like such a child sometimes”

“i haven’t seen you all day, i might pass out”

„your hair is so soft…”

“i’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention”

“c’mere, you can sit on my lap”

“are you warm enough?”

“it’s me! it’s me! calm down, baby, please”

“do you not have better things to be doing?”

“you’re being all cute and sweet, it’s making me want to kiss you”

“don’t touch me, i’m all sick” “it’s alright”

“sorry for waking you, baby. go back to sleep”

“you think i’m cute?”

“my heart is beating so fast right now”

“you’re stuck here because of me”

“take my hand”

“you were my first kiss”

“just like i expected, you’re much comfier than my pillow”

“i trust you. more than anyone else”

“i promise you that whatever you saw was just a nightmare. it’s not real, i’m here now”

ACTION

forehead kisses

knuckle/hand kisses

holding their/your waist

back hugs

ruffling hair

glancing at their/your lips

fixing their/your hair

blushing

cupping cheeks

hiding their/your face in their/your neck

playing with their/your hair

napping together

massaging their/your shoulders

nose kisses

playing with their/your fingers

resting head on their/your shoulder

tying their/yours shoelaces

holding hands

intertwining fingers

comparing hand sizes

piggy back ride

resting their/your head on their/your lap

bridal carrying

standing on your tip toes to reach their lips

smiling between kisses

dancing together

wearing your/their clothes

being tipsy

cooking together

cleaning together

wiping the corner of their/your mouth with their/your thumb

being sick

talking in their/your sleep

having a fight

waking up together

squeezing hands

midnight talks

snuggling in a blanket

dancing/running away from the rain

poking cheeks

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @lhsng ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount

#blue jisungs's ask game #2k followers #what !!!#thank you so much though #i love you mwah #kpop writing #kpop blog #skz fluff #enha fluff #bts fluff #txt fluff #svt fluff

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thesilkentheater · 2 years

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eyes half-shut [narcoleptic daydreams, 2]

the previous show, if you missed it

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Lamia hates meetings.

Everyone has to gather in the center, where all the districts lead to regardless of design, and sits in a room together and wait for Minerva, who eyes them all before sitting down at her desk and going over a bunch of useless information. Numbers and efficiency counters and historical values are all meaningless when you've realized there's more to life than where you fit on a histogram.

They're boring, put her to sleep more than anything else does, and there's no one she enjoys in them. All the other district leaders hate her, because she doesn't need to put in the effort they do. Her numbers, as much as she does not care about them, are consistent if a little low, and are never a problem. Minerva has made this clear.

Minerva has also made it clear she does not like to see her district leaders sleeping on the job, but there's not much anyone can do about that.

Lamia does not usually have to say a word during these meetings unless she is actively called out. She sits there, and she stays half-asleep, and then eventually someone gets up and it's her cue to leave. But apparently today is important.

"Lamia."

"Hm?"

"What have you been doing to promote the new research facility in your district?"

"…Hm?"

"Nothing, then?"

"No one ever asked me to."

"It was assumed," comes the biting, high-pitched comment of the man who runs the aptly nicknamed Noble District. The people there are divided into a tiny upper class and a huge poor demographic, and Nathaniel, its leader, fancies himself the former. Likely he could not find people educated enough in his district and so built the sister location in hers.

"You did not contact her?"

"No, m'am."

"Then I will not be holding that against you. Just know that research is somewhat important."

"Then offer more pay or something," she says, yawning. "People will come if it is worthwhile. I can't make them do anything."

"Tch," Nathaniel clicks his tongue, pointedly looking away from her as he says, "perhaps we will negotiate that later."

The rest of the meeting goes as expected, and once someone stands up to leave Lamia does too. It looks almost like those negotiations are going to happen immediately, but thankfully he gets distracted by another conversation, and so she slips out and finds herself back in the pool of her home.

Ophelia drowned herself again. She loves to do that one- fill her pockets with rocks and flowers and jump into whatever body of water she can find. Usually not in the pool, because she does have manners and knows the place has to be cleaned, but sometimes her urges get the better of her. It's heavy to drag her out, but at least Lamia doesn't have to get wet.

Something something poetry and a fitting death, Lamia vaguely remembers. She doesn't care for the classics very much. They talk about the most boring subjects.

There are dreams flitting in and out of her vision, but she still notices when Ophelia starts breathing again. Even the slightest disturbance can wake her, but secretely, in the privacy of her own room with not a single other piece of input, she can't sleep anyway.

Always watching, always tired, never sleeping, never waking. What an existence she's carved out for herself.

Eventually, she gets tired of craning her neck, so she puts Ophelia on the cloud with her. It's only fair payback for how little warning she gets when the poor girl kills herself, to wake up uncomfortably close.

And little by little, she does wake up. She must be the opposite side of the coin, Lamia thinks distantly; the in to the out, the up to the down, the waking world to dreamland. If Lamia is always tired then Ophelia is always energetic, even if the energy is ususally channeled into unconventional methods of suicide.

"…Ah. Hey, Lamia."

"Mmmh."

"Meeting go terribly?"

She nods. "You know that research place that opened up?"

"Oh, please don't tell me you have to convince people to work there for minimum wage."

"I told them I wouldn't."

"Good. You mind if I stay here? You're comfy."

"Sure."

The moon is high in the sky. Lamia watches with one eye closed as she feels Ophelia snuggle into her side, burrowing her head into the crook of her neck.

If she feels a gentle kiss placed there, she says nothing.

Lamia hates meetings.

Minerva has also made it clear she does not like to see her district leaders sleeping on the job, but there's not much anyone can do about that.

"Lamia."

"Hm?"

"What have you been doing to promote the new research facility in your district?"

"…Hm?"

"Nothing, then?"

"No one ever asked me to."

"You did not contact her?"

"No, m'am."

"Then I will not be holding that against you. Just know that research is somewhat important."

"Then offer more pay or something," she says, yawning. "People will come if it is worthwhile. I can't make them do anything."

"Tch," Nathaniel clicks his tongue, pointedly looking away from her as he says, "perhaps we will negotiate that later."

Something something poetry and a fitting death, Lamia vaguely remembers. She doesn't care for the classics very much. They talk about the most boring subjects.

Always watching, always tired, never sleeping, never waking. What an existence she's carved out for herself.

"…Ah. Hey, Lamia."

"Mmmh."

"Meeting go terribly?"

She nods. "You know that research place that opened up?"

"Oh, please don't tell me you have to convince people to work there for minimum wage."

"I told them I wouldn't."

"Good. You mind if I stay here? You're comfy."

"Sure."

The moon is high in the sky. Lamia watches with one eye closed as she feels Ophelia snuggle into her side, burrowing her head into the crook of her neck.

If she feels a gentle kiss placed there, she says nothing.

#writing #short story #creative writing

0 notes

lolabangtan · 3 years

Text

STAY | 03

After your tug of war with Jungkook to make him agree to be part of the plan, your mission to fall for each other can finally begin; bickerings and awkward silences apart, you only have to ‘make it look like an accident’.

index • previous • next

Word count: 9k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, strong language, harassment.

# an intense kiss with kind of subby Koo? because I know you’re all thirsty. I know it because I am, too 🤷

“Spit it out.”

Taehyung throws a concerned look through the open door; the rest of your friends are all gathered in the living room, finishing off the preparations with the food.

“You can start without us!” he tells them. “I think the pizza is going to take a bit longer.”

“Need any help?” Jimin asks from the couch.

Tae chuckles nervously. “Not really—! I already have a handful of that…”

You start going on about the non-existent smoke and try to close the door behind you, but someone stops it with their feet. It makes you flinch, the thud it makes, and you watch Jungkook sneak into the kitchen with a serious frown.

“What’s going on here?” he asks, closing the door again. “Hyung, you’re pale as a ghost.”

“I don’t know. What is going on, Taehyung?”

The two of you cross your arms at him. As he watches you wait for him to talk, Tae licks his lips nervously – he’s going to get killed. By the two of you.

He has lived a good life.

“Okay, but you have to promise me two things.” Jungkook and you nod: “first, that you won’t get mad. We meant no harm; and two… Don’t tell them I sold them out, they’d never forgive me—”

You let out a groan. “Come on, stop babbling!”

“Jeez, okay!” Taehyung mutters. “Long story short, we made a bet that you two would end up together— before you say anything! We didn’t talk about sex or anything like that, just… liking each other? We just think you look so good together, and since Jungkookie moved in—!”

“But,” you grunt, “who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Sorry?”

“This really is the last thing I expected to hear today! You’re just a bunch of assholes, that’s it. Here we are, Jungkook and I, going through our own dramas while you were just having the time of your lives laughing your asses off at us—!”

However, Taehyung beckons you to lower your voice. “Look, I know it sounds bad…” You wait to hear how he’s going to defend himself, but nothing else comes out of his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“And what was the bet about?” Jungkook finally says, making you snort.

“Uh… Ari bet that you’ll hook up after Y/N” – he points shyly at you – “makes the first move; Jimin said just the same, but Jungkookie would do it.”

“And you?” you ask dryly, arching an eyebrow.

“I, hm, said that it’d be kinda a mutual thing? Like, both of you would make the first move. I just thought it’d be the most likely situation.”

The sound of the door opening makes all of you jump, and Jimin stares at you with a frown. He asks what on earth are you doing here, huddled in the corner like scheming rats. It makes you laugh forcedly, his comment – he doesn’t seem to notice the tense air. So, with a warning that the movie is about to start, Jimin leaves without closing the door behind him.

“Just one question,” you mutter on your way out, pursing your lips; “how much did you bet?”

“Uh… seven hundred.”

“Seven hundred bucks? Are you fucking insane? I really hate rich people,” you grunt then; Jungkook lets out an unbelieving snort behind you, and you can’t help doing the same.

But you leave the kitchen a second later, too furious to think properly. Ari greets you when you slump into the couch next to her, and you just groan, still contemplative. You have a lot to think about right now, as soon as this rage stops fogging your mind.

Actually, you can’t stop thinking about it; one of them could get seven hundred dollars – which is more than a quarter of what you have to pay to get your car back – just if you and Jungkook started dating. With your savings and that money, you would already be halfway into getting the sum needed to cover the repair costs.

The entire room can sense you brooding over it. Perhaps they can’t exactly read your mind, but it’s so obvious that your head is somewhere else that most heads are turned towards you, frowning in confusion and chuckling at your pensive face. Taehyung looks the most nervous as he nibbles his lip; he’s sure that you’re thinking about the bet. Well, he’s right – you are thinking about it, perhaps a tad too much.

“Y/N—?”

Namjoon’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “Uh, yeah?”

“Bathroom break,” he repeats, “we’re gonna stop the movie. Can you help Taehyung with the pizzas if you don’t need to go?”

Honestly, you don’t even know what the movie is about. You’ve heard explosions and gunshots, so it must be an action one, but you did not exactly have your head on it.

“Ah, sure— Jungkook, can you lend us a hand?” you ask him, taking everyone by surprise.

You don’t consider yourself a particularly ethical person. Actually, you wish you were a bit more connected to the world of the sensitive – but you’re not, and you’re in need of money, something that can make a person like you look more opportunistic than they might actually be.

Or so you hope.

Both Jungkook and Taehyung nod slowly, still hesitant, and follow you to the kitchen.

“Okay…” You close the door behind you with care so that no one notices the noise. “I have an offer to make you. To both of you.” You miss the way Tae smirks, as if he already knew what you are going to say. “Now, Jungkook, it’s important that you listen carefully since it gets you quite involved.”

At your words, his ears almost perk – bingo. “But what is this about? The pizza or their bet? Because I’m kind of lost here.”

You need to swallow down a groan of frustration. He’s so fucking stupid.

“The bet, Jungkook, the bet.” When you finally have them all silent and focused, you continue, “I want us to make a deal; if we help you win the bet, we split the money— now, before you say anything,” you cut Taehyung off before he can utter a word, “I know you don’t need the money; you just wanted the, uh, satisfaction of victory or something?”

“Yeah, you could put it like that,” Taehyung lets out with a chuckle as he crosses his arms.

Jungkook feels duty-bound to jump in. “Uh, Y/N-ssi?” You turn to look at him. “You understand that we’d have to… date each other to get him to win, don’t you?”

“We’d have to pretend that we’re dating, that’s it.”

“It’d have to last three months at least. The whole thing wouldn’t be a matter of days,” Tae adds.

You glance at Jungkook as the other one speaks, trying to take a glimpse at his current feelings; it might sound completely crazy, but it is worth the try, is it not? At least, you think it is. Perhaps a bit too intricate, yes, but stranger things have happened.

“How are those pizzas getting on?” Hoseok asks from the living room. “How many years do you think you have left to go?”

You shake your head. “Just a minute—! Look, Jungkook, I need the money. Maybe I won’t get my car fixed right away, but it’ll make the wait shorter. And I’m pretty sure you’ll be back at the dorms before that happens.”

“Can’t you see how stupid it all sounds? Fake dating? This isn’t a movie, for God’s—!”

“We’re hungry here!” Ari sings.

“Wait a bloody minute!” you let out with your head peeking around the door. The party in the living room lets out some chuckles, and you turn back to the pair. “We’d better get going. Well? What do you think? It’s almost two hundred and fifty dollars apiece. And if things wet ugly, we can always kill Taehyung and keep his part.”

The aforementioned chuckles. “Thanks for the kindness, I guess.”

“Do we have a deal?” you say then to your flatmate, putting your hand out for a handshake.

“Ugh, I” – Jungkook ignores your gesture and fumbles – “still don’t know what’s in it for me. Why would I accept to pretend I’m dating you of all people?”

“As if that’s what’s bothering you,” Taehyung tries to add, only for the younger boy to kick his shin.

“Uh, the money?” you retort. “Are you stupid?”

“Don’t call me stupid—!”

Without a word – nor an answer, for that matter – Jungkook just rolls his eyes and walks out of the kitchen. You can hear your friends inquiring after the pizzas, so you and Taehyung finally get on with them and plate them before heading back.

The pizzas are received with applause and hungry cheers as you walk past them.

This time you do know what you’re dreaming about: you’re dozing off at a beautiful white sandy beach, a Piña Colada in one hand while the other one is empty because you don’t need to be doing anything else. The bikini fits you like a glove, you’re the queen of the shore; for the first time in years, you feel like you belong somewhere.

But something is coming your way, it’s running towards you, stumbling with an annoying squeak.

You feel yourself freeze on the spot as you gulp down what’s left of your cocktail. Before you can get up, however, it gets to you. God, it’s so loud, this feels like a nightmare.

‘Beep, beep, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP—’

“Jesus CHRIST!” you groan. Your ears are ringing even though you’ve covered them with the pillow. “Shut up, just shut up!”

As you start to fully wake up, your heart racing madly in your chest, you try to find out where that shrieking is coming from. Once you sit up on the bed, you realise that the noise is not coming from your phone – as it should since you don’t have class at… You check; six o’clock.

No, it’s coming through the wall. From Jungkook’s room, more precisely.

“Turn that shit off!”

After five minutes – that are like five years in your mind – of devilish beeping and the beginning of your downfall into what pretty much feels like complete madness, you gather the strength to get out of your bed and head out to Jungkook’s room. You slam the door open without an ounce of concern about the noise. Not that you could ever be louder than that alarm from hell, of course. As you walk into the room, you spot Jungkook sleeping on his stomach, arms and legs hanging outside the mattress. Snoring like a pig, as always.

You grab his phone and turn the alarm off in a second, despite the growing, painful heaviness in your eyelids, and then you shake him without minding your strength.

“What the—?”

It’s connected to speakers. Jeon Jungkook, the psychopath, has connected his phone to speakers.

“Come one, wake” – you shake him again, and this time you manage to make him mumble something in his sleep that lets you know he’s not dead – “the fuck up! Jungkook—! Bah, as if I cared,” you say then, briskly letting go of him. “I’m going back to bed.”

However, before you can put a foot outside the room, Jungkook’s phone starts to ring on the table. You turn around and see that this time it’s an incoming call, from Jimin specifically. You freeze for a few seconds, thinking if you should pick it up; it’s none of your business, really – but what does Jimin have to tell him at six in the morning? Unless it’s an emergency.

“Hello?”

“Ah— Y/N?” Jimin asks about the other line, a pitch of confusion in his voice.

You hesitate as you continue, “Uh… Jungkook’s phone woke me up. He’s asleep, so he couldn’t pick up.”

“I see… Well, he asked me to call him and make sure he didn’t oversleep – he’s got to hand a project for his, hm, Applied Something-Something course—? I don’t know. Well, it has to be revised and sent by eight o’clock, I think. Could you wake him up?”

“I tried to, I swear, but he’s almost passed out,” you retort, whining. “It’s impossible to wake him up now, I’ll try again in an hour or so.”

“Okay, I’ll trust you. Now, I’ve got stuff to do myself.”

“Tell Ari I said hi.”

Jimin chuckles, a bit embarrassed. “I will, don’t worry— goodnight, and good luck, bye!”

Once he hangs up the call, you stand under the doorframe, watching Jungkook snore loudly in contrast to your silence. It feels like not even a bomb could wake him up.

Now, what should you do? Perhaps you were all confidence and cheek when he brought up your drunk incident – and honestly, you could only do it because he infuriates you and you don’t really remember a thing except for the important parts – but it kind of feels like you owe him this one. Just so you stop owing him those hours of sleep from back then.

Besides, you need to get in Jungkook’s good books if you want him to accept taking part in your money-seeking plan.

You take out your phone and type ‘How to wake up a stupidly heavy sleeper?’ To no avail, though, since it was Reddit and all the replies are shit. Putting it back in your pocket, you approach him again and shake him, harder this time. You don’t stop shaking him, his alarm goes off again after five minutes.

Just as you’re about to give up, Jungkook suddenly stirs in bed. It’s a sign that he’s waking up, just a bit, so you shake his shoulder again. He mumbles something, a ‘let me sleep’ or so you think.

“Come on, Jungkook!” you cry out.

Frowning, he turns around again and peels his eyes half-open. “Uh…? What are you doing here?”

“Your alarm,” you say, holding out his phone, “has been ringing for a while now. And Jimin called, he said you’ve got a project to finish.”

Your words seem to spring him into action, as Jungkook jumps out of bed the second he processes them. You just watch him turn it off and run from one corner to another of his room – with an amused smirk, you must admit. It’s not your intention to fool anyone, the scene is really funny, especially since Jungkook is not yet fully awake.

“Need any help?” you chirp then, looking over his shoulder and walking up to him.

“Uh—” Finally, he realises that you’re in his room, and Jungkook’s frowning gets even stronger as he holds a bunch of papers. “What are you still doing here? Thanks for, um, waking me up and all, but you can go now.”

But you smile gently. “No, thank you for waking me up, you little shit. If you set an alarm at this time of night with a fucking speaker ever again, I’ll cut your balls off.”

“Was it that loud?” he asks, cringing when you nod. “Jeez, I’m sorry. And it hasn’t worked.”

“With you.”

Jungkook chuckles softly. “With me.”

“Why hasn’t it, though? I mean, I understand you’re a heavy sleeper, but this’s got to be over the top. What time did you go to bed yesterday?” you ask then. He eyes you as you get too comfortable next to him around his desk.

“Hm, around half-past two or so— I wanted to stay up and try to finish, but I was too tired. Guess I was naïve enough to think I could wake up after only three hours of sleep.”

“You, uh…” You check the time again and purse your lips. “You still have an hour and a half. I can lend you a hand if you want.”

Jungkook lets out a sceptical snort and puts down all the papers to send an offended glance your way. “I’m not gonna agree to that crazy plan of yours just because you’re helping me with the project, you know.”

“This might come off as a surprise, but sometimes I can be – what is it called? – ah, yeah— nice.”

“Really? You’ve knocked my socks off!”

Well, it is a lie – you are trying to persuade him into the plan. But you’re pretty sure he knows that already, so you don’t feel guilty about it. By the time he catches the extent of your intentions enough as to feel offended, you’ll make sure he has accepted already and can’t go back on his word. You can only hope he’s not the kind of person to go back on his word.

“All right, I guess you can help me,” he mutters, beckoning you to follow him to the living room. “Come on, we’ll be more comfortable than here.”

And, of course, you follow him with a triumphant grin.

It doesn’t take you long to drop it, though – Jungkook is a terrible study buddy, even if you’re technically not studying and also technically not buddies. With all this bickering and fighting, you’ve surely got rid of any drowsiness left.

“Just— stop!” he groans, taking the laptop away from you. “The colour scheme needs to be consistent!”

“But it looks good! It does,” you grunt in response.

With a deep sigh, Jungkook checks the time again. “We’ll leave it as it is; it’s almost quarter to eight, and I gotta make sure the script works before I send it to Professor Kim.”

You just cross your arms and grudgingly accept his decision; you’re still sure it’s okay to break with the colour palette when your choice looks a thousand times better. But Jungkook gets up from the couch to head to the kitchen and refill his mug with old, beloved caffeine. He asks you if you want some more coffee too, to which you cannot refuse.

“It looks good,” you tell him when he comes back. “Really!” you insist when he just scoffs at your words of praise. “I mean it. It looks good. I’d totally share my online banking information if it sold something.”

It makes him chuckle, even if he doesn’t want to laugh at your words at all. That’s the last thing he wants in the world, really – to make you think in any way that you’ve got his graces.

“Well, good or not,” Jungkook says and presses the key, “it’s sent already.”

You get up to take the empty mugs to the kitchen. “Do you have any class today? I’ve got a lecture in two hours.”

“Yeah, Dr Park’s seminar on communication network design, same—”

“Great!” You cut him off with a yelp and follow him to the kitchen. “That’s the lecture I’m attending! So, you won’t have a problem driving me, will you?”

Jungkook lets out a defeated sigh. “I guess I won’t.”

He then opens the fridge to take out a bowl of leftover stir-fried rice cakes and opens it to devour it in a second.

“Good, because I still have many arguments left to convince you to take advantage of their bet and get us some fresh cash— don’t look at me like that! It’s more than two hundred bucks, how can you be so indifferent?”

“I am not indifferent,” he replies with a pout. “I just don’t find it worth going through all that hassle of g-going out with you.” When you hear him stutter, you have to stifle a smile. “Just why won’t you leave me alone? Why— why are you eager to carry on with that idiot plan?”

You steal one of the rice cakes to munch it defiantly. However, he just frowns and pulls the bowl away from your hungry hands as he takes another bite.

“Because I need the money—! And I’m too much of a wuss to be a stripper.”

“Not that you look the part,” Jungkook says with a twinkle in his eye, checking you out, “even— even if you did have the guts to try.”

You mumble something under your breath along the lines of ‘you fucking brat’ and continue, “Thanks for the delicate compliment, Jungkook; it’s good to know I can always rely on your mood-uplifting skills if I’m feeling low.” He just purses his lips at your sarcasm, and this time he doesn’t pull the bowl again when you try to snatch another rice cake. “I guess it’s pretty clear already that you find it repulsive to have people think you’re attracted to me.”

It makes him freeze on the spot, taken aback by the bitterness in your voice. For a second, it feels like you’re upset that Jungkook doesn’t like you. Shivers down his spine, his stomach clutches. It’s not a pleasant feeling, though – and it frustrates him that he can’t bring himself to stop his imagination from flying out of the window.

“Well, I didn’t—”

“I’m going to hop in the shower now,” you say, dodging his words, his eyes, him. “I’ll try to be as quick as possible since we have to leave at the same time.”

He refuses – as he watches you leave the kitchen and head towards the bathroom, he refuses to feel guilty, to feel bad for you when you’ve dedicated so many hours and days to make him feel miserable and unwanted in your circle.

But what Jungkook refuses the most is to let himself feel pity for you. Firstly, you don’t deserve it, and secondly, you surely don’t need it. Not pity, not as a favour. If anything, you’re the only person he could think of that’s strong enough as to carry on without an ounce of pity and compassion from the rest of the world. Sadly, that’s something he admires madly – and quite unwillingly – about you, so he hopes it will also make him stop acting so soft whenever you’re around.

Because you surely don’t deserve it.

After a while, the two of you are ready to leave with just the right amount of time. Luckily, you’re attending the same seminar, so it’s not like you have to walk anywhere beyond the necessary.

Jungkook gets out of the car, but you take a bit longer, staring mindlessly at the windscreen wiper. “Y/N-ssi?” His voice makes you jump as he leans into the open car door. “Come on, we’ll be late— or worse, there’ll only be available seats on the front row.”

You let out a half-hearted laugh that makes him cringe.

Finally, you get out of the car, and Jungkook closes the door with a careless slam just to follow behind you.

The lecture hall is packed and awfully crowded, the flock of students obviously attracted by the extra credit Dr Park has offered if you attended her seminar. Not that you and Jungkook are here for a different, more honourable reason, so there’s really no point in complaining and starting to act self-righteous just because everyone else happened to be just as sly, and perhaps a tad more punctual.

You manage to spot a free seat fairly away from the podium. Some people are staring at you as you squeeze between the rows, and you notice that Jungkook is following right behind you.

“What are you doing? I saw it first.”

But he makes a puzzled face instead. “Uh, I know? I’m taking the other one.”

Before Jungkook can say anything else, you look to the front and see that a boy – probably a freshman – is gathering his things while a group of students at the front are waving to him. The boy looks at you and smiles almost fearfully before stomping down the steps.

“I know the guy,” Jungkook explains when he sees you frown, putting his things down, “he goes to my Law-101 class.”

You let out a heavy sigh and do the same. Not that you’re going to take any notes, or at least not more than necessary, but it’d be great if it did look like you are willing – or even better, interested – in paying attention to the seminar.

Soon, Dr Park walks into the hall with a spring in her step, and the entire place falls silent.

“Okay” – he makes you jump again as he whispers out of a sudden; the seminar has been going for, at least, twenty minutes already – “And how do you plan to convince them that you and I, of all people, are dating?”

A girl sitting in front of you turns around and shushes you. Jungkook and you have to hold back a laugh, however right she may be, at the look of utter offence on her face.

You chuckle under your breath. “Ah, now you’re interested?”

“Hm, not interested, just— uh, just curious.”

He’s getting nervous again, and you must admit that you like it when he does; not only because it makes him look one per cent less insufferable, but also, well, it also makes him sound one per cent cuter. Let’s just say it makes you feel like you can get more comfortable around him. When he stutters, after all, you can’t take seriously any of his stupid comments.

“Well, if you indeed are…” You wait until Dr Park turns around to continue, “I know that it’d look weird to anyone with two brain cells, but if our friends are so eager to see us together to the point of betting on it—? I think they’ll be way too pleased to suspect anything.”

“And I guess Tae could help us ease them,” Jungkook says then, rather to himself, pondering about your words.

“Of course – he’s in the game too.”

“I mean, it’s not every day you get a chance to make two hundred bucks just by dating a girl,” he continues. “Even if that girl is you. I just happen to hate the fact that I’d be doing you a favour at the same time.”

You scoff, obviously pissed off because of his words. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

“This ‘asshole’,” he mumbles then – why is he acting like you have offended him when you’re clearly the poor victim here? “will be your boyfriend from now on, so you’d better get used to it. Now, noona, can I take a look at your notes, or you haven’t got any yet?”

With an obviously fake smile, you hand him a blank paper.

Jungkook spends the rest of the seminar taking notes and doodling on the paper while you stare at the wall, pretending to listen to Dr Park’s endless soliloquy on energy-efficient wireless technology – honestly, if it wasn’t because Professor Choi told you about this extra credit thing and that you’d be doing the department a big favour, you wouldn’t even be on campus today. And you certainly wouldn’t be on campus with Jeon Jungkook.

At the end of the hour, Dr Park thanks everyone for coming and clears up that you’ll have to refer to each professor to settle the extra credits. At least the poor woman is aware of it.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

[Wednesday, 10:54 AM] Taetae🐯: Just got out of class.

[Wednesday, 10:54 AM] Taetae🐯: I’m meeting Jimin, Ari, and Namjoon-hyung now to look at the new bookshop. Wanna tag along? I’m pretty sure they’ll have the second volume of the book you needed for your Oriental Philosophy course.

[Wednesday, 10:56 AM] You: I’m with Jungkook, just came out of Dr Park’s seminar.

[Wednesday, 10:59 AM] Taetae🐯: So, you’re with Kookie right now 😳😳 Should I casually slip it up in front of our friends?

[Wednesday, 11:00 AM] You: 🤠

You’re walking out of the building already. The weather is nice, the perfect balance between sunny and cold. Jungkook is checking his phone since Jimin just texted him to tell him the exact same thing Taehyung just told you – perhaps without the whole part about the money-driven romantic complot.

“Should we really go with them?” he mutters, eyes still fixed on his phone.

You look up from yours. “Uh, why not?”

It seems like he wants to talk about something, so you beckon him to follow you to the corner of the big staircase. There you won’t be bothered by the many eyes watching you right now— what is wrong with them, anyway?

“I thought we’d… talk it out first?” Jungkook says then, lowering his voice despite being more or less secluded from the crowd passing by. “I mean, we should map the whole thing out.”

“Meaning?”

When you sit down on the ground, he quickly follows you and sits in front of you, hugging his backpack. Ah, ever so dainty.

“It won’t work if we just say we’re dating,” Jungkook says, and you must admit that he’s kind of got a point there, “they know us too well to believe that we’re hooking up out of the blue – we need them to ‘catch’ us. The question is, how do we manage that?”

You’re still highly suspicious of Jungkook’s intentions. How could you not be? Just twenty minutes ago he was calling you insane for even mentioning the idea, and now here he is, harping you to brainstorm ways to pretend you like each other. Which wouldn’t be hard if you didn’t actually hate each other’s guts, but that’s a problem for another day.

“You could start by being a little nicer to me.” You can’t help the pouty, offended tone.

— which is what pisses him off the most; Jungkook lets out an unbelieving ‘oh’ and tilts his head to the side – as if that’d change what you have said. Obviously, it won’t, you are completely right – in this matter, at least.

“I am the feisty one now?”

“Well, you’ll have to admit you’re the most hurtful of the two,” you insist. “Or do I go around calling you ugly and disgusting, or letting it slip every few seconds?”

“Uh, when did I ever say I think that?” Jungkook whines back.

“This fucking morning, for example? Anyway, there’s no point discussing this,” you grunt, and Jungkook doesn’t know how to bring it back up so that you won’t dig it to let it die. “Just take a breath whenever you want to say something mean to me in public, and I’ll do the same. We can pretend that living together, I don’t know, created too much tension between us – it’s better if we try to smooth things over so that it doesn’t come off as too shocking.”

“Smoothing things over? How?” he asks then, frowning in confusion.

You cross your arms, thoughtful. “Um, I don’t know… Flirting or something?” Jungkook goes stiff in a second. “What? Thought we’d act chaste? Not if we don’t want them to suspect… Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a fan of the idea either— but Ari knows too well how I act when I like a guy.”

“What do you propose then?”

“Hm, well…” He watches your face, nose scrunching as you rack your brains for ideas. “Let’s focus on making them think that we’re starting to get along. After that, then, I guess it’s just a matter of flirting in public from time to time; with that, and getting caught groping each other or something, there’s no reason why they should smell any rats.”

While Jungkook nods – slowly, not quite agreeing yet but rather still processing everything you’ve said – your phone buzzes in your pocket. You check it to see it’s Taehyung.

[Wednesday, 11:25 AM] Taetae🐯: Are you coming or what 👀

“We should get going,” you mutter, staring at the screen of your phone. “Taehyung just texted me again.”

You let out a sigh and grab your backpack to get off the ground. As Jungkook mimics you, he takes his things and follows you across the quad. Again, you can feel an unsettling number of eyes fixed on you. What are they so curious about— that you’re not strangling him with your own two hands? Well, you must admit you’re pretty surprised about it yourself.

[Wednesday, 11:27 AM] You: We’ve lost track of time, sorry. We’re on our way 🙏🙏

[Wednesday, 11:28 AM] Taetae🐯: Cool. By the way, I checked the place, they’ve got your book. I asked the clerk to keep it for you.

You are halfway to the car park when you stop in your tracks. Shit, you completely forgot about it.

“Actually” – you drag Jungkook in your sudden halt – “I think I’m gonna head home instead; my boss found out I don’t have a class tomorrow and has signed me up for the closing shift. I should better finish off my assignments and go take a nap once I’m done.”

He frowns, rather surprised. “Is that— um, is that legal?”

“No, but I can’t afford getting sacked, not this late in the year and with my car gone kaput.”

“Oh, okay… I’ll see you at home then. Later.”

You took a nap as soon as you finished all your college assignments, so you don’t see anyone all day. Even when you go to work you don’t meet a soul. It’s good, though, lets you ponder and think in peace – which you need to do urgently.

The thing is, Jungkook is right. As much as it bothers you to admit it. The plan is crazy, in the sense that there are more normal and less moviesque ways to get some good cash, but what else can you do? You’re a woman of action; when an opportunity comes your way, you grab it first and then give a second thought to whether it was a good idea or not.

Although, judging by how things have been going for you lately, maybe it’s time to reassess your mindset.

“Six vodka shots, please!”

You nod at the bunch of girls in front of you and spin around to the neon drink shelves, suddenly snapping out of your thoughts. Your new workmate – the creepy fellow standing next to you, fussy in his late thirties and sporting the nasty habit of putting his hand on your lower back whenever he tries to walk past you in the small space behind the bar – nods and finally decides to get on with the work.

“So, how’s the university treating you? My Greek life wasn’t too long ago, actually,” the man goes on; “I could give you a tip or two if you’d like. I can give you whatever you want.”

You put on a polite smile. “Could you give me some room here – I need to get through.”

“Oh, absolutely. My bad. So—” Determined to pester you, he follows you across the back bar, still babbling about something. You manage to dodge the questions and reply listlessly to his endless college tales. “And that’s how I got this tattoo! Crazy, innit? Do you have any tattoos?”

“No, Minhyuk-ssi, I don’t.”

He lets out an irritating cackle. “You should totally get one. I know a guy in town who’d do a great job, loves tattooing ladies—”

“Actually” – you spin on your heels to face him – “I don’t think my parents would be too happy about their daughter getting a tattoo. They’re very conservative. But thanks for the offer, I guess.”

Serving jail time for smashing a bottle over his head is not worth it. Or is it?

“Three beers, a coke, and a daiquiri!” Finally, a chance to get away from Minhyuk and his insufferable flirting. But when you turn around, you see Ari standing on the other side of the bar, grinning. “If you’d be so kind, beautiful.”

You snort, thrilled to see her. “Right away, doll. Who are you here with? Taehyung, I imagine; no one else would order a coke at a bar—”

“Can I help you?”

Of course, Kang Minhyuk has to butt in your conversation with your best friend – the first conversation you’ve had in the entire evening that doesn’t make you want to puke. Ari glances at you, sending your way the sort of look all women understand, wiggling her eyebrows without an ounce of amusement in her expression. ‘Just look at that, won’t you’ is what it says— no, screams. You want to scream too.

“I can handle a couple of drinks, thank you,” you grunt, hand trying to shove him away without actually touching him. Ugh, you’d have to chop off your hand afterwards.

“When is it over, your shift?” Ari asks once the man of the hour finally clears out.

“Twenty minutes that will feel like forever…” You glance at Minhyuk now, but you don’t stop mixing her drink after you’ve fetched the coke and the beers from the underbar. “I’ll have to make eyes at him to get him to close for the both of us”

“Hope it works.”

You shrug, smirking. It will – at what cost, you don’t want to think about.

When you’re done with the daiquiri, you hand it to her. She turns around and beckons at your friends, which you can finally spot in the back of the club’s room. It’s Jungkook who ends up having to come to help her carry everything back to their table; after staring at you in silence, he greets you quietly.

“What’s wrong with you now?” Ari asks him with a chuckle. “Well, I’ll come to see you in twenty minutes. Good luck handling your admirer.”

Jungkook arches his eyebrows at you. What admirer?

“Ugh, thanks… That will be twenty-three dollars.” As you prepare the card reader and Ari rummages in her purse to fetch her card, Jungkook stares at the man behind you for a couple of seconds as he grabs the beers. “There you go— I’ll see you guys later.”

“Jungkook?”

He finally tears his eyes away from Minhyuk. “Uh, yeah?”

“Come on, take the drinks to the table! Y/N is busy right now, let’s not disturb her.” He just nods and does as told, walking away towards the rest of your friends. “Tae told me you went to a seminar with him this morning, and I’ve heard you two looked pretty close, giggling and chatting. Any news?”

Ah, this is your chance; you press your lips together and say nothing, piquing her interest. Then Ari wiggles her eyebrows at you, and your silence makes her grin.

“Jeez, now I get Jungkook’s staring. That was fast—”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“That flourishing blush on your cheeks was all you need,” she chirps. “Well? What happened?”

“Nothing of the sort you’re imagining, that’s for sure.” God, you should’ve joined Taehyung and majored in Drama – you’re quite good at this. “It’s just… Well, he’s nicer than I first gave him credit for, that’s all.”

“That’s all? Jesus Christ, Y/N, you’re literally blushing— you can’t just tell me nothing happened between you two.”

You let out a breathless chuckle and cup your face. “God, am I? This is ridiculous…”

“I mean, you’ve liked worse guys,” she insists. And, well, she’s right about that; Jungkook is one of the most decent guys ‘you’ve hooked up with’ lately. What? You said it earlier, even you can feel lonely from time to time. “Anyway, I better come back before they start thinking we’re up to something. Later, babe! Good luck!”

You wave at her, watching her leave, and let out a defeated sigh; these were the most interesting five minutes of your entire shift, and they’re already over. You just hope the night will carry on without more incidents so that you can join them on your way back home and finally go back to your nice flat and tuck yourself in bed after a hot cup of tea. Although Jeon Jungkook will be involved in that perfect future of yours, so are you looking forward to it or rather just fantasising about it?

“Sorry I took so long, didn’t want to leave her alone with that jerk.”

Ari puts her daiquiri on the table and sits next to her boyfriend. With a smooth gesture, Jimin puts his arm around her shoulder to stroke it, and she smiles at him.

“Ugh, creepy old men just have literally no self-awareness,” Taehyung blurts out and sips his coke. “I pity her.”

Namjoon sighs. “We should keep an eye on him.”

The conversation changes course after a short while, even if the group does not manage to relax completely. Ari knew she had to come to see you today; your manager really is an asshole for making you work with that guy despite all the times you’ve complained. It makes her blood boil.

Jimin’s fingertips on her skin get her to relax a bit. “I heard Dr Park’s seminar was good? I should’ve attended, you never know when you might need extra credit,” he says, smiling against his beer.

“Um… I didn’t pay much attention, honestly.”

Ari chuckles at Jungkook’s words. “Of course you didn’t, Kookie; you were getting input from somewhere else—”

“Don’t tease him,” Jimin whispers with a quick peck on her lips.

“Huh? Jealous much, Park?” she says, nibbling his bottom lip. “But you know my good teasing is for you only. Now be a good boy and don’t whine, let’s enjoy our night out.”

“Mommy—”

Taehyung bursts out in laughter next to them, both embarrassed and amused at their conversation-turned-making out session; really, he needs you and Jungkook to tame these two when in public. It seems like the plan is running more or less smoothly, he’s glad. For the time being, as long as you’re not at each other’s throats, he can consider it a decent substitute for a victory.

As the night goes on, Jungkook notices you talking often with that old workmate of yours. He’d be completely indifferent if it weren’t because you look terribly uncomfortable around him, and he just can’t stop thinking about what Ari said earlier.

“I’m done with beer for tonight, need something stronger,” he says then, getting up. “Anyone want me to order anything else?”

Ari takes a look at his cocktail. “Yeah, can you get me another one of these?”

Nodding, he leaves and walks up to the bar. You’re nowhere to be seen, so it’s Minhyuk who meets him on the other side of the bar, wiping a glass with a polite smile. Jungkook takes a seat in front of him.

“A soju bomb and a daiquiri, please,” he mutters then.

“I guess the cocktail is for a girl? You don’t come across as the kind of guy who’d drink that glittery stuff,” the old man says, cracking up an annoying laugh. He just clenches his jaw in annoyance— God, you really have to put up with this every single day at work? Maybe he’s underestimated your patience. “I like your tattoos, by the way. I know a guy who—”

“Actually, isn’t there a girl working here too? My friend said her daiquiri was really good.”

“Er, do you want me to go and look for her?” Jungkook nods. “Sure, uh, give me a second— Y/N! There’s a guy here asking after your daiquiris!”

“I can’t even go for ice without—!”

But you stop dead in your tracks at the sight of him, of all people, sitting at the bar; Jungkook moves his hands to his knees, suddenly looking a thousand times less threatening – on the contrary, now even docile. You cross your arms anyway.

Minhyuk looks at you. “I’ll… handle the ice.” And he’s gone in a second.

“Want me to stay?”

“Uh” – you’d like to say no, hate the idea of owing Jungkook this one; but perhaps he’s just trying to put on an act in front of Ari and the others, and it’s not like you couldn’t use a distraction and shelter from that horrid creep right now – “yes, please—”

“Need any help, darling?” your workmate butts in again, squinting his eyes at Jungkook.

You sigh. “No, thanks, I can manage.”

After he reluctantly leaves to fetch the bags of ice you should be carrying into the back bar, you rub your eyes and let out a groan, getting on with the cocktail.

“What a pain in the ass, the old man,” Jungkook mumbles.

“Well, yeah— but our shifts can only overlap on Wednesdays, and it doesn’t always happen. No, this… This is just my manager getting back at me for asking him to raise my salary. Thought I was asking to get paid for sitting pretty on a chair, I guess,” you say then with a defeated chuckle as you wave the shaker from side to side.

He lets you work in peace, keeping quiet. Not that you’re able to act like his eyes are not fixed on yours, on your movements, on your figure as you finish the drink – but you still can choose to ignore it, even if it disturbs you as much.

“The guy’s lurking around like a shark,” he says with a breathy chuckle, sipping his drink.

“Sadly,” you reply, “that’s pretty much all Minhyuk does around the place – he lurks, nags, offers tattoos, and leaves the heavy work to good, old Y/N.”

Jungkook laughs along with you, another mouthful of ‘somaek’ down his throat. His eyes on yours, do you have something on your face or—? But it’s working because your workmate lurks and lurks but doesn’t seem to get the balls to interrupt. Not until you’re done with the cocktail, at least, and he can’t even nag you for neglecting the other customers— what other customers, you could ask? The club’s pretty much empty on a Wednesday night.

“I got you that book on Oriental Philosophy that Taehyung found at the bookshop,” Jungkook says them. “I didn’t want to rummage through your things, so I left it on your living room table.”

“Hm, thank you… So, what’s up in the world of non-employed?”

“They’re teasing me nonstop,” he scoffs. “Having the time of their lives, the assholes. Glad I’ll get some cash out of it.”

You’ve started wiping the bar surface clean already. Jungkook lifts his arms so that you can reach under them, muscles flexing while they’re at it. If he notices, he doesn’t show— but it’s not a matter of getting caught, is it? Guilt doesn’t work like that, and you know what they say; you’re your own worst critic.

“Ari must be dying to pester me with it too… Once she’s done sucking the soul out of Jimin.”

Jungkook giggles. “Well, not even if we were the best actors in the entire world we’d be able to imitate them. That’s chemistry if I’ve ever seen it.”

“Isn’t it love? If I have ever seen it,” you say, rather to yourself.

You keep quiet when you see Ari walking up to you. She puts her hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, smiling knowingly, and inquires him after her drink, claiming she’s been waiting for quite some time now.

“Oh, sorry, I lost track of time and forgot about your drink,” he blurts out, blushing a bit. The daiquiri rests on the bar, untouched and ignored for quite some time now. “Uh, I guess I’ll come back with the others…”

However, your friend waves her hand with a big grin. “No need to—! I mean, you don’t have to worry about us, stay here if you want. It’s not like we don’t see each other every day.”

It’s funny that she uses that as an excuse because you and Jungkook literally live together.

“You’d better go with her, it’s getting suspicious.” With Ari’s back turned to you, you grab his arm. “Meet me in the toilets in five? Time to get on.”

Jungkook nods to let you know he understand what you’re talking about; he’s nervous all of a sudden, nervous about a kiss, or a hug, or a confession, whatever it is that you’ve planned for the two of you. But he follows Ari back to the table, and he doesn’t notice the way his fingers are clutching his drink ever so anxiously.

Your shift is almost over, and you only have to make eyes at Minhyuk – and promise you’ll take a look at his friend’s website – to make him say he’ll close for you. Ari notices you taking off your apron and tells the rest of your friends to get on the move.

As promised, Jungkook sneaks off to the washroom while you approach them. You stay just a few minutes, leave your bag on the table and ask them to watch it while you’re off to the toilet too, make conversation. After enough time has passed, you excuse yourself. Taehyung stifles a knowing smirk.

“Jungkook?” you ask to the darkness.

“Here.” The white, hospital-like lights flicker on, Jungkook’s figure standing in the middle of the small room. “So, uh, what’s the plan?”

“Let’s wait a couple of minutes. They’re eager to go home, so someone will come to fetch us since we’re not coming,” you explain in a low voice, careful not to be too loud in case anyone is listening, “and they’ll catch us kissing. Feel capable of pulling it off, Jeon?”

Jungkook’s cheeks heat up at the teasing, the challenging twinkle in your eyes enough to make him nod— he might be nervous as fuck at the idea of kissing you, he’s recalling the memories from that night you came home drunk and tried to kiss him, asked him to let you fuck him. But there’s no point in thinking about that now, is there? So, yes, Jungkook, focus.

Somehow, you’ve managed to pen his large figure against the cold wall tiles, need him pinned and in place.

“I think I hear footsteps.” The faint sound of your name echoes through the corridor. “Ready, Jungkookie?” Your heart beats painfully in your ribcage, making it all the more exciting, getting you on edge. And he finally nods.

The kiss is awkward at first, obviously too little prepared. Besides, you two are so stiff against each other that your brains can squeeze out in a second all the reasons why this is completely stupid – but when his lips start to reciprocate the kiss, parting so that you can sneak in your tongue and roll it over his, Jungkook has to gather some self-restraint to stifle a whimper. Your fingertips burn the fabric of his shirt, you’re all over him in more than one sense. He lets you tilt his head to the side, now your profiles fit perfectly. It feels so good, he hates it, hates how you kiss him, hates how you lick over his lips, teasing him; hates so much the way you’re having him tremble and shiver just by sucking on his tongue.

Hates being so into it.

Jungkook’s hands hold onto your waist, knees buckling so hard he might slip off your grip and fall. Your breathy chuckle against his lips only makes him let out a sigh— is no one ever going to run into the two of you?

Your hot, sweaty palm on his nape makes him yelp. “What is it, Jungkook?”

“They’re taking too long, aren’t they?” he mutters, shifting his eyes to your lips, wet and a bit swollen. “Let me— let’s catch our breath for a bit.”

“Sure,” you say, letting go of him.

Honestly, he’s glad he dodged your attempts to kiss him that night. If you were to kiss him like this when he was still drowsy and enthralled by your passionate interest in, well, fucking him, who knows how much damage it could’ve done to his mental stability. Unmeasurable, positively.

“You look fucked up. Like the way I kiss that much, baby Koo?” you ask then, and Jungkook goes still at your words, even ignoring the way you pinch his cheek. “What? I’m a cheesy nickname kind of gal.”

He tries to chuckle it off. “It doesn’t suit you at all, noona—”

The bathroom door creaks open, and in a second, you’ve pounced on Jungkook again. This time, however, the kiss is more aggressive, bruising hard. Blood boils crazy and rings in your ears, you can’t hear anything besides his huffs, which you are trying to ignore. This time, too, Jungkook is faster to wrap his arms around you – instinct’s as good a justification as any – and press against you, deepening the contact.

“Jungkookie, we’ve been—”

It might not take you off guard when Namjoon and Taehyung walk into the toilet, but you are so uptight about the whole thing that your startled faces are fairly genuine.

“Shit, I—” Namjoon is just as shocked. “Uh, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You pull away from Jungkook as he fixes his hair, his shirt, checks his lips; a staged kiss it was, but you haven’t bothered too much to skimp on the intensity. Fucking hell, it’ll take days for his neck to forget your fingertips.

Taehyung lets out a pleased hum, earning himself a nudge from the older one. “We’ve been waiting for an eternity out there.”

“Sure, um, we’ll be out in a second.”

All of you walk out into the club’s hall, the place already empty – Minhyuk is done wiping the tables, now mopping the sticky floor with all the fallen drinks. Just in case, you move to stand behind Jungkook; if anyone gets the hassle of having to put up with that obnoxious pain in the ass, let it be him. He’s your boyfriend, after all, isn’t he?

“What took you so long in the loo?” Ari asks, handing you your bag. “We almost asked your partner to tell us one of his adventures out of boredom.”

You open your mouth to answer, but Taehyung, leaning against the wall and scrolling down his phone, doesn’t look up as he chirps, “Y/N and Jungkookie were making out in the washroom! Sorry, you can’t really expect me to keep quiet about something like that.”

“What—!” she cries.

Namjoon groans, probably wondering why on earth he decided to blurt it out so suddenly – you two were obviously keeping it secret for a reason.

But nothing could be further from the truth.

“Jungkook and I” you take Taehyung’s lead, dramatically holding his hand,” um— we’re dating.”

Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

you come home drunk and both your siblings Harry and Gemma are home watching a movie

Ur mom Anne is asleep and you snuckrf out to a party and got drunk maybe, and you come and when Harry is like “YN? What r u doing?” And the first thing u say is “I’m not drunk” and just start rambling stuff

sibling!harry isn’t talked about often enough so here we go;

(this turned sad pretty quickly fyi….)

You were flat out drunk.

Pissed. Wankered. Plastered. Hammered. The whole combination of all of them together.

If someone were to ask you to spell your name you would reply with a bunch of letters that didn’t even exist in yours and you knew this because it had just happened.

“You’re so drunk.” Your best friend Hannah giggled, but their was a tone of concern behind her voice. She knew that you were a lightweight, but didn’t keep tabs on you the whole night to keep track of how many drinks you’d had. Turns out, too late, too many.

“No, i’m Y/N dummy!” Your words slurred as you stumbled over on the grass outside of the party you’d just been at.

It had been your good friends Will’s birthday party and it was all very exciting because it was the first big house party for people your age - in your school. Will’s house was massive, too, and it was the talk of the town. Unfortunately your stupid, annoying, over-protective older brother had told you no when you’d asked him if you could go. You’d gone to your mum first, the lovely Anne, and she’d said maybe, but once Harry had twisted his way into her head to describe everything the party wouldn’t be she’d said no.

Luckily for you, your bedroom window was right next to a huge tree - one that you could easily climb onto, up and down. So that’s what you’d done.

As soon as you’d arrived at Will’s you had a drink in your hand. Then another, and another and so on until the point you were at now - wasted. You had originally drunk so much out of spite of Harry, but you ended up trying to the point where you honestly didn’t even notice you were drinking alcohol.

“Y/N get up, c’mon. I need to get you home.” Hannah sighed, looking around to see if anyone was around to help.

“Noooo! Harry will be there and he’ll shout at me.”

“Why? Harry’s nothing but lovely.” Hannah had a not-so-secret secret crush on your brother - as did the whole of your town. And the country. And the world. It was hard living in the shadow of Harry Styles, but you did love him just not when he sucked the fun from the universe.

“That’s what everyone thinks.” You rolled your eyes and kept them shut, just wanting to go to sleep now and the grass seemed comfortable enough.

“You should be so lucky Y/N.” Hannah argued back.

“Sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

“You’re so ungrateful, do you know that?” Hannah scoffed, clearly pissed off with your whining antics, “You know what? You can walk yourself home.”

And with that you were left to the front grass, confused as to what you’d done wrong to make her so pissed off so quickly. You thought you were just sharing feelings and having a heart-to-heart, but clearly Hannah found offence to your words. No doubt she was pissed off at you for being a bitch about Harry, but that’s just the way it was. He was your brother. Your famous older brother who adorned the hearts of billions. Sometimes that’s all you ever feel like - ‘the sister of Harry Styles’ - to the point where you just wanted freedom and release. Sure, this was not the healthiest way for release but it did make you forget who you were just for the day. You often felt misunderstood and it was times like this when you could feel a little better.

“Fuck.” You sighed, knowing you’d just pissed off someone else in your life. Now, you’d have to get yourself home and confront your even more pissed off brother, sister and potentially mother. That’s if they were even up. Or if they cared enough.

You’d always felt left behind.

It was no doubt unintentional, but you felt like you were the least cared about in the family. Harry was the golden angel and could do no wrong and Gemma was just a responsible queen, according to mum. You, well… You were the “irresponsible and reckless” one of the bunch according to most media outlets and even your family. Maybe it was true? You never saw yourself as those things, but you could see how the sneaking out and drinking - and at a young age - could be seen as.

You picked yourself up off the floor, stumbling as your head started spinning fast. You felt sick, tired and cold and you hadn’t noticed your nose runny and eyes teary until now. You tugged the sleeves of your long t-shirt down, silently wishing you’d brought a jacket, and pulled your phone out of your pocket.

No charge. Great.

The walk home didn’t take too long, but completely wasted did not make it easy. You bumped into people and got cat-called by hideous and vile men. You felt unsafe, but you kept yourself together and attempted to get home as quickly as possible.

“Fucking pull yourself together.” You talked to yourself as you stood at the bottom of the tree, climbing it the best you could with a cloudy mind. The branches scratched your arms and your legs felt so fatigued, but you were honestly too exhausted to care anymore.

As you clambered through your window the last thing you expected was to see Harry laying on your bed.

“What the fuck!” You screamed from shock at him being there, stumbling over your own legs and falling onto the floor. Harry sat up immediately.

“What do you mean what the fuck? Y/N? What the fuck?” He threw the question back in your face, throwing his arms up in despair.

“Oh please, save your judgement Harry. I don’t need it today.” You gathered yourself from the floor and walked into your en suite bathroom, after switching on the light.

“Where were you huh?” He didn’t cut his questions.

“Out.” You mumbled, throwing cold water over your red and puffy face. Your hands were freezing and your head pounding, so the last thing you needed was Harry yelling at you at how much of a disappointment you were.

“Are you drunk?” He walked into the bathroom, clearly not understanding the meaning of personal space. “Are yo- are you crying?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Tears started welling up in your eyes again.

“What doesn’t matter? Being drunk, you crying, getting home late, sneaking out?”

“None of it!” You snapped, looking at him with so much sadness. “None of it matters. I- I don’t matter.” You sank down on the cold tiled floor, resting your back against the wall opposite the bath. The tears fell and stung you eyes. You embraced your legs with your arms after pulling your knees up to your chest.

Your whole body language screamed to Harry that you were not okay and he was upset for you.

“Y/N..” Your name came out soft and fragile from Harry’s mouth.

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.” Harry sunk down against the wall next to you, not touching you but close enough for you to know he was there for you. He let you cry until you decided you were alone enough to let him comfort you. You brought your head up and let it rest on Harry’s shoulder, to which he responded by putting his head on top of yours.

“I’m just really tired Harry.” You whimpered, using your long sleeve to wipe your nose dry.

“Of what Y/N/N?”

“Being a nobody.”

“You’re not a nobo—”

“Harry I am—”

“No you’re not.” Harry ended the argument quickly, before continuing. “You’re not a nobody Y/N. You’re my sister and bestest friend in the whole world. I care and worry for you more than anyone. I love you more than anyone, just don’t tell Gem or mum that! I’ve never thought of you as anything but my favourite person and someone I can rely on for my happiness, and I apologise if i’ve taken that for granted recently.”

“It’s okay, thank you.”

“You’re my most important person and i’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way, but trust me, Y/N, when I say that drinking away your problems, and even rebelling, is not the way to make things better. It always makes it worse.” Harry spoke from personal experience.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I am too.” Harry sighed, kissing the side of your head. “Just worry about you too much to see that sometimes i’m holding you back.”

“I like that you worry about me, it makes me feel important.”

“That’s because you are. Most important person in my life.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue #finelinevogue harry styles #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #harry styles sister #gemma styles #harry styles sister concept #ask finelinevogue #ask harry styles #kissmyaxe140 #harry styles angst #harry styles x sister!reader

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stetervault · 3 years

Note

Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!

Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

Wake Me Up by ToAStranger

Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

as you are by veterization

Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.

Call My Name by KouriArashi

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi

Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.

Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede

The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.

The Will by Guede

We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.

On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede

“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”

“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”

Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).

Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)

Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.

The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.

Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday

In the beginning, there are three absolutes.

One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.

Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.

Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.

Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.

Three absolutes.

You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn

Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.

Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Open Wounds by Guede

Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.

Bittersweet Creek by Guede

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.

"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."

Bone Deep by ShippersList

A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.

Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.

Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi

Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)

Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.

Til Death by Bunnywest

“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks. “Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is. “He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her. The camps……aren’t camps. Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

love me lights out by veterization

Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)

Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)

“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16. “Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,” ‘Bambi’. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous. Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.

Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.

Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363

Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.

Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.

Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

A Curious Magic by Triangulum

Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.

So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.

Light in the Dark by cywscross

It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.

Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.

Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross

Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.

Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.

He doesn't expect to have company.

#rec list #teen wolf #steter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #fanfic rec #akielosrises #ask

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arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years

Note

I read the Diavolos ball and angsty stuff, can I please please please get a happy ending to go with it?

This has been a highly requested and I must give my poor followers comfort after this straight up angst

So everyone, let's get into it! Some hurt and comfort to soothe your hearts

Warning: angst, long

I'll be putting this under readmore as it is long and I have had someone before say they wanted me to add it on long posts, I never really got any feedback about what I could do better and how this will help with people's viewing but I understand why, long posts can be annoying

If you guys think I should do this with all my long posts please comment or dm me or even state it in asks/requests - I wanna do what I can to make things enjoyable for people

Part 1 - beginning

Diavolo's ball aftermath

It's been a few days since they've seen you; they expected to find you in the dorm. Some fear you went back to the human world; there was no messages, no note - there was nothing. You were completely gone.

Everyone was losing it. The brothers got more aggressively with each other, no longer able to have you come between them. Your presence was so soothing to all of them but now you were gone. As soon as they realized you were gone the whole air of the dorm shifted. It wasn't right.

Mammon got desperate to know where you were. He handed one of his crows a necklace he got you, you promised to never take it off. His heart shattered when he saw it was on your desk. He wasn't sure what he did wrong - why did you take it off? What happened to you?

It wasn't long before the crow came back to the devildom; reporting that you were in fact in the human world. The brothers were devastated. They had to tell the others and they had to watch the hopeful shine in their eyes die.

They could all feel thankful you were unharmed but you were so far. You did this to get away from them. You didn't even leave a damn note!

Diavolo ordered everyone to go to the human world. They all split up into different parties to get you, whoever could get you first had to interrogate you. It didn't take a genius to understand that the Noble told you something horrible - why else would you have such a reaction? Barbatos was tasked to 'calmly discuss' that night with said noble but regardless of how rough and merciless he was; he refused to talk.

It was wasting time and energy. If he wasn't going to talk then they had to get the answer from you. A few were able to gather the gist of what he told you from your conversation before you disappeared; you were convinced you were being used and just a replacement, a pawn to them.

They wanted the full story. The whole reason. Anything! Just to understand why you would push them away and disappear like this. What have they done to make the nobles words feel so real to you? They needed to fix it.

The demon brother's split into a team of two; eldest and youngest, the royals stayed together and the elder exchange students were a double team aswell.

The crows lead the teams their way, splitting up to different routes to see if they could circle you so they could talk to you even if you decided to run.

In the end they found you, you were across the pavement, a train coming. The pedestrian stop dinged as it commanded people to stop but the men couldn't help themselves.

"(Y/N)!!!"

You whipped around, shocked. You thought your ears were playing tricks on you but there was the boys. Your boys. Tears bubbled in your eyes. You couldn't believe it. They followed you to the human world.

The world slowed down; the wind blowing against you as your eyes widened at the sight of them. They looked exhausted, some even with tear streaked cheeks. The more impulsive bunch being held back so they don't go running towards you. The street lights illuminated all of you; their appearance looked just as broken as their hearts.

The train rammed itself between you all. Disturbing the moment with its blaring horn, the screeching wheels ringing in your ears. It was the second you had to decide; do you run? Or do you stay?

To let them get you and finally face your emotions or run away, avoid everything and keep letting despair consume you.

You stayed. You couldn't move at all. It was if you were glued to the spot. But you knew it was just your heart aching for them; desperate to hold them and cry out your pain.

As soon as they could, they all rushed to your side. Hugging you, grabbing at your arms and head to pull you close to them. You choked on your tears as you let the 11 men hug you and check your face and clothes. All just wanting to make sure you were really there and unharmed.

You missed them all dearly and you were so happy they missed you too.

But then the big question was asked.

"what happened that night?"

"he said he was happy to meet me...asked for a dance and I said yes, I never should of, he kept telling me I was just Diavolo's pawn, Lilith's replacement and convinced me none of actually cared for me....I believed him.....I felt so unsure and he knew so much about us I just couldn't stop the doubts in my head....I'm so sorry-!"

Lucifer:

He couldn't believe that noble said that to you

He hastily grabbed your face, wiping away your tears

"You will never be and never have been her replacement, you are your own person, your connection to our sister means nothing other than comfort that she was able to be happy and that's it - I apologize if we have made you feel like you are a replacement and have compared you to her.... please understand we just miss her very dearly but we all want you in our life more than anything."

You buried your face into his shoulder

Sobbing your heart out as you kept chanting apologies and gratitude in a broken voice

He silenced you, holding you close

The prideful demon hid his face as best as he could and let tears drip down his cheeks

He was so relived to have you back

It seemed that noble wasn't only going to be visited by barbatos

Lucifer was not known for being merciful

Mammon:

He grabbed your arm and hastily tugged you towards him

His other hand cradled the back of your head

"Don't ever run away again, you understand?! I'm supposed to be the one protecting ya and how am I supposed to do that if you're off running in different realms without telling anyone??!! That noble doesn't know anything! I don't know how he knew about Lilith but you ain't her, you're (Y/N) And that's it! You are your own person - you gotta call out my dumbass-ary if I compare or make you feel that way, I would never do it on purpose! I like you and only you! I can't lose you again!"

He pushed his forhead against yours

A shaky exhale leaving him

You tried to apologize but he cut you right off, hugging you closer

He was going to make that Noble pay for ever making you doubt yourself like this

To doubt how much he loves you

Levithan:

He was already crying

He was crying before you even considered crying

He rushed to you and grabbed your hands

"I got so scared I did something, Don't listen to that normie! Normies are losers for a reason! There's no one else I would want as my best friend - no one will ever be a better game partner than you! You always make me feel happy and proud to be me-! I couldn't ask for anything more from you! I miss Lilith but I miss you even more! You're my favourite person, you're not some replacement, you're you! You're my player 2-! I'm sorry if I made you feel like you're not as amazing as you are, please don't leave again!"

It wasn't long after his speech he hugged you

Squeezing you tightly as he relished in having you back in real life 3D

since you were gone he kept playing as your game avatars

Using ai set ups to feel like he was with you again in VR

That noble will not stand a chance against his fury

Satan:

He wasn't sure if he was mad at you or himself

It was most likely both - mad you left and let someone just destory so much work and progression in one meeting

But mad at himself for not making you feel secure

He couldn't bring himself to hug you but that was because he was scared he wouldn't let go

"I knew that Noble was nothing but a menace-! You can't listen to people like him, he's just trying to get to you and tear us apart - I don't know why he would do that but he isn't right, he will never EVER be right! You are yourself and never will be Lilith, I didn't get to me her or really know who she was but I do know you will never be her and never were her! I care so much about you and I will make sure to keep my stupid brothers to never make you feel that way again, I've missed you so much (Y/N)."

In the end, he fell into your arms

Holding you tight as he let out his tears of frustration go

You apologized but he just told you to shut up, he didn't want you to be sorry for being the victim

He already had plans on what he's going to do to that noble, trying to push those thoughts away

Focusing on how wonderful it is to have you close

Asmodeus:

As soon as he could reach you, he pulled you into an embrace

Shaking his head as tears streamed down

His makeup already starting to to drip along work his tears

"No! No! No! Noooo!! Don't listen to that horrible noble! He isn't right at all, he doesn't know anything about us or you! He obviously doesn't know how much we care about you and like you as your own person, I never meant to make you feel as if you were some sort of replacement! Lilith was her own being and so are you, your connection means nothing! I i will always be happy knowing my sister got to live the life she wanted but you aren't apart of that, your life is your own and you are nothing like her! I love you because you're you! I couldn't imagine ever loving someone as much as I love you, please come back to the devildom!"

He nuzzled his cheek against yours

Thankful to have you back in his arms again

He didn't like getting his hands messy but no one was going to make you feel that way ever again

He didn't care about that demons status

Beezlebub:

His hand landed on the top of your head

You flinched not expecting such a gentle pat but it only broke his heart more

"That noble knows nothing about you or any of us, he's turned my sister into an enemy to our relationship and I will not let that go on for any longer! You are not her and not her replacement, how dare he make you feel that way! you're apart of my family and I'll have it no other way, I really love you and missed you everyday you were gone - I was scared I'd never feel full again, you make me feel complete and when you disappeared I knew I wouldn't be able to protect you, I would of never forgiven myself if you got hurt! I want to always be able to protect you and have you by my side and make you feel happy - I promise I won't fail you again."

He almost fell to his knees once he was done

He was ready to swear to you on one knee, like a true knight

But instead hugged you

Mindful not to squeeze too hard but let himself be selfish and hold you tighter than he would normally dare to

He was one prone to be violent unless it was in sports or he was starved - the Noble starved him of your touch and kindness

He'll break more than just rooms once he gets his hands on that Noble

Belphegor:

He spun you to face him

Demanding

Needing your attention on him

It was only a few days but it felt like forever since he's had your eyes on him

"You're no pawn and no replacement, you are you and that's all I want, I don't want any one else, I know I've made you feel like a replacement - i did something horrible to you and then tried to make it seem like it was all okay after, I'm always trying to make up for that day but I know that is something that will always effect us! I missed you so much....you are your own person and you've helped me be a better person, come back home and let me make this right......you're all I want and need."

He broke down crying

Hanging his head low and it dropped onto your shoulder

He loosely held your waist whilst you gripped onto him tight

If everyone thought choking you was bad, just wait until they see what he plans to do with that noble

He couldn't stand seeing you so upset anymore

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

He gently held your arm

Giving it a small squeeze as tears built up

"He said all that? I'm sorry he made you feel like that, to feel such confliction and dread, You are never will be or were my pawn, you're a fantastic student and wonderful person who's did more than I've ever imagined Someone could do, if I could have asked you myself properly to be apart of the exchange program I would of but the world is not yet ready to merge and be aware of our existence.... please you have my deepest apologies and regrets that you felt this way and I've allowed such a person in my court, I will do whatever I can to make this right."

The tears finally fell and he became selfish

Hugging you tight against him, his fingers brushing against any skin he could touch

He couldn't dare to think how he'll be when you finally do leave the program

But until that time comes he needed to make it a good experience for you

If what barbatos did to him wasn't enough to convince him then he will not go back on his word

He'll fix this and do whatever he can to make all the pain stop

Barbatos:

He sighed in relief seeing you in the flesh

Knees buckling as he stood before you

His knuckles bloodied and bruised under his gloves

"I should of been more comforting when I found you, if I had known that was what he said I would of never let him be apart of the lord's court or be at that party, believe me when I say you are not a pawn or someone's replacement - you are so much more than that, you are you and someone that's made me feel closer to the present, to act quicker and stop using endless time as a excuse, I will fix this and make him regret ever uttering a word to you, I promise you."

Your touch was as gentle as ever

He caved, leaning against you

Happy to be able to make amends and fix the situation

The nobles dealt with him once and no matter what he did it wasn't enough

But he was merely holding back to be a gentleman, even if that noble now looks like a beaten raisin

It seemed he will have to do much worse to send everyone's message across

Solomon:

His face was gentle yet scolding

He gently brushed your cheek, wiping away a stray tear

"don't run off next time something like this happens, your life is so short and I hate to think would could happen if I lost you because you felt isolated even from me, you though you could find solace as both of us are humans but I was slow to understand your needs - you are deeply loved by everyone, I envy how much love you get and that's why I can't stand to see you run! I also love you and your presence, you have been so kind to me and I still have so much to teach you- please believe me when I say you're no one's pawn or replacement, you're important because you're you."

You crumbled completely

He hugged you as you apologized, calling yourself an idioit

But it only made him tsk, rubbing your back as he filled your ears with praises

He was sure the demons were going to rip that Noble to shreds but he couldn't help but desire his own revenge

Seeing you like this hurt him so much

Simeon:

He was so quick and gentle you could of mistaken him as a feather

He embraced you, cradling your head and rubbed soothing circles between your shoulder blades

"I was worried about you, I took you home and then I learn you've completely disappeared! No warning or note behind, you ran away - your feelings are extremely valid and I understand why you did this, It must of been so conflicting and you needed space to think and reflect, you're so strong (Y/N)! but you are also smarter than this, I feel ashamed knowing I haven't showed you how much I appreciate you being in my life and make sure you feel secure in the Devildom, I want to look over you but I've failed you already, that Noble does not know what he's talking about regardless of the information he has! I would never let anyone use you or let anyone treat you as some replacement, we all care so much about you."

He slightly swayed with you in his arms

Overwhelmed by his fears and the emotions that were rushing through him

He promised to never harm an innocent soul

That noble did not have one

He will leave the more physically destructive rage to the others

Wanting to merely talk and show the noble the error of his ways

Bonus:

You were back in the Devildom, Everyone was making sure to spend extra time with you. So happy to have you back and wanting to work on making you feel more secure. You couldn't stop how fast your heart was beating from all the overwhelming joy you felt.

It felt so good to be back. But you nagging worry remained in your head; what was going to happen to the Noble? you wished you could go up to him and yell at him. Prove him wrong and make him regret ever making you spiral like that.

When you brought up the idea, the men all looked at each other. A knowing look in their eye.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N) but I think it's best you don't see him but rest assured, we've dealt with him on your behalf and understand your wishes - let us know how we can help you feel resolved from that situation if this is unsatisfactory."

Diavolo answered. If it weren't the state the noble was in they'd happily let you chew him out but your heart and mind have been through enough already. No need to add on to the hurt with seeing what was left of him. They couldn't stand to see you upset again.

But you agreed, thanking them for their support and handling the situation. Unaware of their true actions. They all wished you a great day before going back to their own private meeting.

845 notes · View notes

deluluass · 3 years

Text

Attention

Since requests are open again, can i request a yan!bokuto developing a crush with one of the other teams' managers during their training camp? 👀

for: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa. hi bestie 😔 this is late (again), but i hope u like it 😍

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; underage drinking; (slight) sub!Bokuto👀; mild footplay

Three minutes.

Three minutes and forty-five seconds, to be exact, before the truth came for you like a ball careening towards your blindside:

You’re not supposed to be here .

Granted, the thought had already slinked its way into your brain ever since you’d overheard the coach crying on his phone, his wife on the other side of the line, that if he hadn't groveled and appealed to his college friend’s sense of honor, as he’d sniffled, they wouldn’t have even considered the team ( your team) to be worthy of receiving an invitation to this training camp.

Ignoring the worries that came after that was supposed to be easy. It shouldn’t have come at all . It’s irrational and it doesn’t help anyone. What was the point in fretting? Your boys are more than deserving— more than capable in fact —of going toe to toe with some of Tokyo’s best.

It’s also a given that those people don’t know anything about your team. You do live in a town half a day’s ride away from the capital. And how could you expect city folk to recognize a team that hails from a place where the cows outnumber the people three to one?

They’re bound to not know.

But the needless unease stayed and soon took a life of its own, the weight of it becoming heavier and heavier over the course of the weeks that you waited for that dreaded day, like a hungry beast that you diligently fed with your little what-if’s.

What if that place eats us alive?

What if they make fun of us?

What if, despite trying our hardest, all we do is lose?

What if these people take a single look at us and think that we’re not good enough?

What if they’re right?

The deep chasm on the scoreboard tells you exactly that, plain and without a hint of artifice.

Shinzen High has already scored five points.

Your team is still stuck at zero.

And the clock continues to tick.

“Chance ball!”

Your captain's voice was feeble against the noise of the ball being passed from one hand to another.

Odd, that.

Itsuki's not the type to pull his punches. Especially in the middle of a game; always one to use his entire chest when launching back at his enemies with a guttural roar.

You looked at the players standing on your side of the court— really looked at them, in a way that you should have instead of wasting your time entertaining those doubts— and found nary a trace of your teammates among those too-stiff, too-quiet boys that bore an uncanny resemblance to a bunch of rabbits caught in the headlights.

A chuckle erupted from your chest, surprising even you.

"Something funny?" the coach asked, his glance turning wary when you convulsed in a fit of shrill giggles.

"Yeah," you told him, shaking your head. “There is, Coach.”

From the bored expressions on your opponents’ faces to Shigeru’s (failed) attempt to set for Koyama, all the way to an audience that wasn’t even looking, who were, frankly, much more interested in what's on their phones than what’s in front of them.

How can you not find this funny?

You were worried about... this ?

You sighed, your head the clearest that it’s ever been in a long while, and stood from your seat on the bench.

The coach called out your name in a harsh whisper. You ignored him, not even bothering to explain yourself. After all, you’ve already spent too much of your energy on the wrong things.

And so, in the most polite way that you could, you shouted:

“Hey! What the fuck is this!”

Everyone might've gawked; the coach may have pulled you back to the bench with a strength that you didn’t know he possessed. There’s something much more important than being respectable, though.

“None of us ever cared about what these assholes think!” you pressed on, staring down at Takami, whose dad never fails to remind him that he’ll waste away his life fooling around with that useless club . “So, why,” you ask with a clear voice, “Why are we starting now?!”

Of course, just like any of your spur of the moment ideas, that hadn’t ended the way you hoped it would.

They still lost (they also did in the following game). All of the coaches (including yours and excluding the one from Nekoma High; that one just patted your back) had expressed their disapproval over what you did. You couldn’t regret it, however, no matter how humiliating their rebukes made you feel.

Because you don’t think you’ve seen any of your teammates look the least bit happy since you set foot into this place. But, now— even with the fact that all they've achieved so far is keep the floors clean with their diving laps— now, they do.

With that, it seems to you then that this place isn’t so bad, after all.

A day.

A day and ten hours, approximately, had already passed when Bokuto felt your presence acutely like the stinging red imprint a hurtled ball leaves on his skin. And just like the circumstances that lead to that bloodied, angry marking, you made your existence known with just as much force as a player spiking for the kill.

Some of them guffawed, out of disbelief and sheer delight both, because in all the years that they’ve trained together in preparation for the interhigh, they don’t think anyone has ever called them a bunch of “assholes” before.

They didn’t think much about that new team that arrived too late. So, yeah, Bokuto wanted to laugh, too, just like others. ‘ What a way to make an impression, huh?’ he wanted to say.

That wasn’t what he said, though.

Bokuto wasn’t even able to say anything.

He was too busy staring at your mouth, the resoluteness in your lips as if you knew exactly what to say; the way you looked at your teammates, like there was nobody else more astounding, more unbeatable at this game than the boys before you (though, surely, even you can see that they’re far from being any of those things).

And yet, there you were, your eyes incandescent; they might as well have been on fire, blazing with so much awe and unshakable faith and it was so clear for everyone to witness and— and Bokuto did not know what to do with it.

It was so embarrassing, truth be told. Bokuto may not be the most secretive guy around, but when the others eventually pointed out that he looked scared at the thought of facing them ( you ), he just couldn’t help but sulk.

“We’re not half the cheerleader she is, Bokuto-san,” Yukie teased him, patting his shoulder as she did, “but rest easy, we’ll try our best to boost morale.”

He just groaned, immediately locking his legs at a stand still when the others hooted, ‘Look at him! He looks like he’s about to piss himself bouncing his legs like that . ’ Really, what was he supposed to say?

Because, when he finally faced your team with that net in between and as he felt the ball against his palms when he aimed for a clean hit towards the floor, it’s not even fear that rushes through him.

Not even close.

Beyond the defeated faces, of the exhaustion slathered all over your team’s barks after each point he snatched under their noses, Bokuto saw you looking at him.

Just a flicker; a passing peek before that determined gaze settled back on the others. But it was there all the same: the pause in your breath as the ball detonated against your teammate’s frail arms, clutching the edge of the bench with your fingers as if it took everything in you to keep yourself from running towards the court.

To rush towards him.

To— to what ? Exactly? To scream at his face the same way you did earlier? That he's going too rough and hurting your precious friends?

There’s a part of him that wishes to stop. A strange, alien feeling that he supposes comes from the discomfort at the sight of you so troubled and wound up.

Oh, but you're just starting to understand!

That if there's someone who's truly astounding, unbeatable, and staggeringly brilliant at this game, it's him . And Bokuto wanted to drive that point home like he's never wanted anything else in his entire life.

His body stopped feeling like his own by the second set.

His legs were too light to be his, like there were coil springs underneath his feet that carried him higher and higher he swore he could brush the roof with his fingertips.

There’s a thrumming in his flesh that propelled Bokuto to move faster, to push that ache over the edge until there’s nothing left but the breathless exhilaration of seeing his opponents kiss the ground.

The air is getting thinner, like he’s scaling towards a mountain top as he sprints towards the other side of the court, long strides eating up the floor, uncaring for the sweat pouring down his cheeks.

Bokuto was willing to let this thing go on forever and ever and ever , for as long as he feels the searing heat of your eyes on him.

Until he turned his head in your direction.

You were smiling at something a spectator said.

He couldn’t hear it, but whatever it was it had pushed you to make a teasing remark to your team.

A banter ensued.

The referee blew his whistle as a warning.

You giggled.

Why?

“The ball, Bokuto!”

Why aren’t you looking?

His hands were two weights keeping him down, made heavier by that sinking sensation in his chest.

When did you stop looking?

It was too much, too unbearable that he could cry. The indifferent way you'd removed him from your line of sight was a sucker punch that's not as painful as the shame it leaves him with.

Were you even looking at all?

And he wonders with a shuddering exhale as he finally gathered the strength to raise an arm, Bokuto wonders what would happen if, just this once, he shot the ball towards y—

“Bokuto-san.”

Akaashi was calling out to him.

“Bokuto-san, we already won."

The ball within his grasp dropped.

Bokuto watched it bounce on the floor until it rolled over to somebody else's waiting palm.

He took a deep breath— in and then out, repeated it until everything came into sharp focus —and raised his head to squint at the scoreboard.

22-3

So they did.

The other side of the court was already empty, your team assembled to one corner; you were out of sight.

Everyone started to gather around him.

They took Bokuto along with their cheers and reprimands and accusations, like a strong current that carried him from the bench to the shower room, laughing as they handed him a towel, having noticed that he’d been too out of it to do anything else but stay half-naked in front of the sink.

“Are you alright, Bokuto-san?” he heard Akaashi ask over the teeming excitement surrounding them.

Blinking, Bokuto paused from wiping his bare torso as he replied, “Me?”

Their setter only nodded.

“Yeah!” Bokuto exclaimed, a tad louder than he ought to. “Yeah, dude! Of course! Never been better!”

“You were a man possessed," Masaki, still fresh from the shower, suddenly drawled from behind him.

“You were... quiet,” Ubugawa’s captain continued, reaching for the toothpaste laid next to Akaashi. “It was unlike you.”

Bokuto was about to say something, somewhere along the lines of “Really? I didn’t notice” when Daiki made his decision to wring the wet shirt in his hand, brandish it like a belt, and strike Bokuto’s back with it, the impact cutting across the room.

“You little..!” Bokuto turned with a snarl, poised and ready to throw the boy over his shoulder.

“Let it go, let it go,” Daiki chortled, grabbing Bokuto by his damp hair. “That’s for not giving us a warning, alright? Crazy bastard.”

Daiki shook his head as he walked away. “Never seen the idiot go hard like that,” he mumbled.

“That’s our ace for ‘ya!” Haruki echoed from his cubicle, to which the others responded with wolfish howls and sharp whistles, completely transforming the shower room into a tiled rainforest.

And Bokuto wanted to join along, because although the game still felt like an abrupt, fever dream, he’s well aware that he did something that he’s going to be proud of in the days to come. But somehow— for some unknown, beguiling reason, all he could do was stand there and make himself vulnerable to Kuroo’s antics.

The Nekoma captain looked at Bokuto through the mirror, clicking his tongue before lamenting about “ those poor country boys ” and their “ ill luck ”.

“Go easy on us small fries sometimes,” he added. “You were pretty scary back there.”

Kuroo gave his nape a quick pat before he went for the lockers, leaving Bokuto to stare at his reflection, features obscured by the fog.

Scary , he said.

Scary, huh.

A man possessed.

Bokuto wonders about its meaning, what coach had meant earlier when he’d jokingly called him a beast. He contemplated what about him had led them to think that way, tried his best to be perceptible of any changes.

His eyes were the same, although the pupils in the middle were large pools of tar, widened and leaving only the slightest space for the honeyed rim.

His hair was the same platinum color and still streaked with the same black lines, although untamed and in a disarray this time, with the strands sticking to his forehead.

Although flushed, his face was the same, over all.

Everything seems to be right where they’re supposed to be.

Although he’s huffing and puffing, creating more mist to cloud the mirror with. And when he tried to reach for the glass, he realized that his fingers were still trembling. His blood still surging as if his body had never left the court.

Then, it struck him.

Bokuto holds his breath in anticipation, the truth of it right in front of him.

There’s no monster here.

No man possessed either.

Only a guy who’s helplessly, foolishly in love.

Announcing to an entire room of strangers that one is of the opinion that they're assholes, as it happened, was an effective way of making new friends.

Of course, there was that awkward day-long explanation that you had to do for Yuki and Kaori and the others. An affair that wasn’t too different from a one-woman press conference that involved you expressing your regrets, revealing that, sometimes, when backed against a wall, you can be an impulsive clown with a glaring lack of filter (like: "No, no..! I didn't think you guys were actually- you know- ass- it just spilled-" and "Ah, geez, this is embarrassing.The heat was getting to me. I didn't mean it, really!" )

But the girls had been kind enough to let bygones be bygones, assuring you that all they ever felt was a joyous combination of relief and wonder. Ubugawa's manager, Eri, (who'd shook your hand while holding back tears) even told you that seeing another girl in a veritable sausage fest that is the training camp was a miracle in itself.

"It was fun, actually," Mako once said when the two of you were assigned to carrot chopping duty. "You gave us something to talk about for a while."

And even when the novelty of being a bumpkin with the mouth of a sailor soon faded, the bond that quickly bloomed between you and the other managers hadn't.

It was unexpected, although not unwelcome.

You couldn't help but laugh at yourself. How silly you'd been: coming into the city expecting a den of wolves and hunters armed to the teeth.

In the span of two days thoughts of survival were replaced by the confidence that your boys would pull through; by a sense of ease that you didn't need to win all the time and that this place is not a battlefield, but a fertile ground for growth and learning. You didn't need to constantly be on your guard— knuckles up and gearing for a fight, you realized.

Well —

For the most part, at least.

Serving spoon in one hand and potholder in another, you reluctantly paused from preparing your team’s meal to whisper under your breath. "He's doing it again," you hissed.

Kaori only gave you a preoccupied “hm?” as she plucked the ladle to fill the plain white ceramic bowls before her. “Who is?” she continued.

“Your captain,” you replied, taking care not to let him know that you're on the verge of melting under his not so subtle scrutiny.

The lovely Fukurodani manager didn’t even miss a beat; without lifting her eyes away from the food, she raised her voice, just loud enough, to address the creature (spying) standing idly by the door.

“Say, Bo-kun,” Kaori called out and you watched, amazed, as he coughed out the water that he’s been making a great show of drinking. “Your mama must not have taught you that it's bad to ogle.”

Bokuto Kotaro, Fukurodani’s ace and captain— a volleyball player that sits atop everybody else in this training camp, whose name is almost always followed by “one of the very best in the country”— quailed as his manager, the Great Kaori Suzumeda, blessed him with a smile veering on beatific.

“Oh-who-me?” he prattled, hands pointing at everything and nothing as he choked on his own words. “Didn’t see you there! What’s up! I was just passing by!”

“In the middle of practice?” Kaori snickered. “ You ?”

The boy released a laughter that resonated in the empty cafeteria.

She sighed, dropping the ladle, and told him to “Just go, Bokuto.” He obediently complied, thank the gods, but not without an overzealous goodbye to Kaori, as if he’d never see her again when lunch was just half an hour away.

He didn’t say anything to you. He didn’t need to, anyway. The lingering gaze that he directed towards you was enough.

“Thank you,” you exhaled once you made sure you’re no longer within his earshot, plopping your head against Kaori’s soft arm.

Her chuckle fluttered towards you, causing you to smile as she asked, “Is it that bad?”

You could only nod, both as an affirmation and an effort to shake those golden, hawk-eyes out of your system.

“I’ll talk to him,” she said after a few seconds of comfortable silence, the firmness in her voice making you stand upright and level with her.

Common decency tells you that you should say no, to stop her and tell her that she didn’t really have to; that you shouldn’t make a big deal out of this. But, you’d never really been one to listen to what that part of your brain dictates.

Taking her hand in yours, you gave it a light squeeze, incapable of doing anything else to convey your gratitude with a sob lodged in your throat.

“He’s not a bad guy, our Bokuto,” Kaori soothed. “And for what it’s worth, he’s never been like this with someone he likes.”

A grin lit up her face as you snorted, remembering the time someone had finally caught on to Bokuto’s newfound fixation. The uproar that it’d cause in the field when everyone was out enjoying slices of ripe watermelon. The unnecessary and, frankly, embarrassing anger that it’d pulled out of your boys after it's been revealed to the whole world. The infamous blush on Bokuto Kotaro’s face as he desperately tried to deny the accusation.

And the cold, spent feeling it left you.

“Normally, he’d be all over them,” she continued, mimicking his owl-like way of moving, bobbing her head to and fro as she circled around you.

“Kaori!” you squealed, pushing her playfully by the shoulder.

“Bokuto would be like—” Kaori pumped her fists in the air, “ Hey, hey, hey! Talk to me! Talk to me! Compliment me! Love me! ”

You simply hummed, folding your arms against your chest as you commended her spot-on performance.

She didn’t need to tell you all that, though. The guy had a personality so big it’s a miracle how this city contains him. And you’d known from the very beginning that Bokuto Kotaro doesn’t seem like the type to do the whole “pining from a distance” thing.

But, they even said that he’s half in love with you already, with the way he follows you with his eyes and flails and stutters and acts like he’s never had a mouth and a pair of hands before whenever he’s around you. And that, somehow, he plays even better than he already does when you’re in the audience ( especially when it’s against your team).

You don’t bother to correct them and say that no, this might not be a silly little crush.

Because you don’t think that anyone but you would understand that there can never be any love nor infatuation in a stare that traps you with its expectations. Even if you did tell them that, you’re the only one who knows what Bokuto’s gaze really makes you feel like: A plaything that he’s been gifted to and was told would sing and dance for him just so he’d stop crying.

And you know what temperamental children do with toys that don’t work the way they want it to, don’t you?

“Trust me.”

Kaori’s gentle voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“He’s just an idiot,” she told you. “You’ve seen him— especially last week!” Kaori’s eyes bulged out, leaning closer to you, both of you gasping at the memory.

Tears sprung out of your eyes as you laughed harder, your stomach aching when Kaori began to recount the events that had turned the entire training camp on its head, forever planting itself in its history as the worst ordeal it’s ever faced:

A piece of the wall in the girls’ sleeping room broke off, revealing a large, Lovecraftian nest of cockroaches.

“If you’d only seen his face!” Kaori cackled, struggling to finish as she clutched onto you for support. “He burs- bursted into the room only for him to- to-”

“Pass out when a roach flew to his nose! I know !” you screeched and slapped the table with her, ignoring that you’re almost knocking over the food and chortling until you were close to having a heart attack.

“Oh- oh , I can’t breathe,” she groaned. Your laughter tapered off into heaving as you fixed her mussed bangs.

You smiled.

“See,” Kaori finally said, pinching your chin a little. “Bokuto’s a meathead. Just a meathead. Guy can’t get a clue. But he’ll come around once he realizes that he’s being weird.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, giving her a weak nod. "I'm sure he will."

You didn't know if you meant to say that with a hint of irony; if that scared farm girl is rearing her ugly head again and pointing a pitchfork at a monster of her own making.

A monster that, you're convinced, would do something more than just look once you're within its reach.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Bokuto even had it all figured out in his head. C’mon, he's got the looks, doesn't he? And he's not lacking in charm. In fact, he's oozing with it! That's why Bokuto had expected that he had this one in the bag. His game plan was foolproof:

Talk to the girl. Get the girl.

After that, you’d be together for the rest of your lives and your fiery, unrelenting support for that lousy team of yours would never go in vain ever again. Because it’d all be directed to him. All that “ Good job! ” and “ You were amazing back there! ” and “ Don’t be scared! I’ll be right here rooting for you! ” would finally be given to someone who actually deserves it.

All you had to do was see what he had to offer and baby— oh baby , how you'd love him. No force on Earth could have prevented Bokuto from making you his.

So it's all the more sobering now that Bokuto’s witnessed that the said force turned out to be him of all people. And what he could actually give you was a few stumbling lines and compliments that didn't even make any sense (“ Y-your face smells nice ” for example)— all (preferably) uttered a few feet away from you.

The others teased him for looking like a jilted witch casting a spell on an indifferent lover. “What are you? Speaking in tongues or something? Is the Great Horned Owl that desperate?” they poked at him. He didn’t mind them before, but now he’s not so sure.

" Tone it down, okay? " Kaori had reminded him again earlier this afternoon. That stern talking-to from their manager was an ice-cold bucket of water that doused what’s left of his optimism.

But, tone what down? What , exactly, is left to tone down?

He couldn’t even talk to you without losing his ability to string coherent words together, let alone get close to you. Eye contact, too, he’d deliberately restrained himself from doing (if only you knew how much this is hurting him!) and not just because he’d been deemed a complete and utter creep.

Bokuto couldn’t look you in the eye ever since that incident.

“ She’s helping the other girls carry their stuff to the other room, I saw them just now ,” Yamamoto had discreetly passed on as soon as he woke up from a terrible concussion. “And if you want to redeem yourself, my friend, after that humiliating performance, you’d better go out there and lend a hand. ”

Because Yamamoto, being the love expert that he proclaimed he was, told him, “ Look, I feel for you. But it’s simple. You just gotta show her what you’re made of. That you’re a man she can depend upon, ” Bokuto then persevered to follow through.

Only for him to be met by an empty room with bits of crumbled plaster scattered across the floor. And your bag in the furthest corner just...lying there.

Maybe you’d forgotten about it. Maybe you were too busy catering to your friends' needs that you'd forgotten about yourself.

Either way, Bokuto promises that it wasn’t on purpose.

Bokuto had good intentions, really! He just wanted to take the bag with him so he could give it to you, is all! It wasn’t his fault that some of your stuff was peeking through the half-opened zipper. It’d already been in that state when he saw it.

And- and it’s not his fault that he adores you too much.

Bokuto reminds himself as much as he propped his forehead against the bathroom wall, water from the shower pouring against the taut muscles on his back as he wrapped your underwear around his cock.

The baby pink fabric, every inch of it soiled now over the days that he's used it, rubbed against his balls when he began fondling them, his other hand caressing his nipples, rubbing and pinching at the peaks until they stiffened between his calloused fingers.

His cock grew hard and heavy in his hand as he started pumping into his fist, fucking your soaked panties until precum dripped from slit.

And with nobody else in the shower room, Bokuto allowed himself to grunt and curse and call out your name, digging his nails into his skin until it stung and made him want to cry.

"Make me cum, princess," he whined, shutting his eyes to watch you on your knees, fingers between your legs as you looked up at him, never taking your eyes off of him even as you took his cock down your throat.

"Please, please ," Bokuto groaned,"Please let me cum."

Here, you don't turn away nor brush him off without even saying anything. Here, you call him your baby and you chuckle as you ask him, " Good boys deserve to cum, don't they? "

He bit his lip, pressing his cheek against the freezing tile. "Mmhmm, I-I've been-" Bokuto moaned, feeling himself creep closer and closer, the pleasure at the pit of his stomach building, "I've been so fucking good for you."

The contrast of your pretty little underwear around the thick veins of his cock made his head spin. And as he squeezed his shaft tighter, Bokuto knew that he did, in fact, deserve so much more.

Because he's endured so much just for you. Now, it's time to get what he's due.

Scouring high and low for a pair of cotton panties that have seen better days wasn’t how you wished you’d celebrate the last night with your newfound friends.

Yuki had advised that you abandon the ratty, old thing (though you did say it wasn't; ratty, that is) and leave it here as a parting gift— a mark of your impact on their lives, if you will— but you’d quickly laughed her off and set out to find it. She was drunk, anyway.

Although, so were you. If not, then just a tiny, itsy, bitsy, bit tipsy.

You hiccuped, giggling as the sound echoed through the poorly-lit hallway. The world was spinning beneath you and you prayed that it wasn’t worse for poor Yuki, having chugged half of that horrid concoction.

Kaori almost threw her out of the window after that stunt. Mako scoffed at her for being an arrogant ass. The girls who weren’t drinking sat back and chose to enjoy the unfolding chaos (while also being kind enough to be on the lookout).

And you...well...right now you’re on the verge of breaking down as you make your way to the shower room.

Mostly because you’re just realizing that you might never see them again if your team doesn’t survive the Inter High. Partly because you’ve been dumb enough to not notice that you’ve been missing an underwear for a couple of days now.

God, it's so ridiculous. You're ridiculous. You're glad that you went on your own and rejected their offer to accompany you. Imagine if they saw you like this:

Oscillating between sobs and strained laughter while swaying on your feeble legs; the very picture of a lunatic out in the streets in the middle of the night.

You only hoped that you're not scaring the living daylights out of that guy who probably just went out of the boys' room to pee. Maybe you have already spooked him, with how still he's gotten.

Cupping your palms around your mouth, you saw fit to save his sanity and cried, "Heyyyy! I'm not- hic - a ghost!"

"Oh!" you gasped, raising a pointing finger to shush yourself, "Oh, yeah, sorry, shhh-"

He didn't run the other way screaming and crying, which was good, instead he approached you hurriedly, making you squint to get a better look at him.

"Koyama?" you whispered, struggling to recognize the tall boy with a sturdy build, his navy blue hoodie casting a shadow on his face. It didn't help that your eyes were doing something funny, as if they were busted camera lenses that went uncontrollably in and out of focus.

"Good evening, my dear! I daresay you're looking quite bur- burl- blurry tonight."

You cackled, immediately following your greeting with a slurred apology.

"Why- Why are you still- um- up?" he asked. And before you could volley him with a question pointing to his weirdly different voice, he brought his head down to sniff at you. "Wait- have you b- are you drunk ?"

"What! No! Of course not!" You pouted and airily slapped his cheek, drawing a lopsided grin out of you when his skin glowed pink, bright enough to light up the entire place. It was so remarkably adorable that it made you squeal and pinch both cheeks, rocking his face as you did.

"Look at our big boy!" A sheepish, almost disbelieving chuckle shook his large chest as you resumed your baby talk, your grabby hands bringing his face towards you. "Who would've thought that our stwong, wowdy ace could bwush wike so? And what's with this siwwy hoodie, huh? Where did you get this, bunnycakes? I've never seen you wear this before!"

You wondered, also, why and how his jet black hair turned pallidly gray over the few hours you hadn't seen him. You even brushed the mildly damp locks out of his forehead, unsure if they're even real as you tried to right your smudged vision.

And you wanted to blame it all on the alcohol.

It's the reason for that dramatic change in his tone and manner of speaking and hair color and...those eyes .

The very same pair that followed you everywhere, sometimes even in your sleep.

"You love me, after all," he breathed, the statement a thin sheet of glass that could blow into smithereens at just the wrong response.

That had been enough to drain the inebriation out of your body. Like being branded, you pulled away from Bokuto with a harsh curse.

"I- I have to go," you said. "Sorry, I thought you were Ko- my teammate."

But Bokuto had already laid hold of your arm with no intent of letting go.

"Stay!" Bokuto called out, repeating it with please and listen despite your outcries, shouting for Kaori and Yuki and Mako and Shigeru and Takami and Coach and Koyoma and anyone, help me, anyone.

Until he tugged you to his chest, wrapping himself around you and turning his entire body into a concrete prison as he fervently told you, "I love you. I love you so much ever since the first time I saw you and I know, I know you feel the same so if it's the distance that's keeping you from me I can come to you I'll follo-"

"Nothing's keeping me from jackshit!" you gritted out. "I don't love you! I don't even care about you!"

He didn't say anything to that.

Bokuto had gone quiet. It wasn't only until he nuzzled your neck, pressing his face snugly down the crook, that you decided to kick him with all your strength, breaking yourself free as your heart thundered out of your chest.

You didn't look back.

You dashed through the long, endless hallway with the air in your lungs dangerously running low and keeping you from screaming.

But the remnants of the alcohol were lead that weighed your feet to the ground, betraying you further by morphing your surroundings into a hazy, dizzying scape. You teetered and wobbled, desperate to reach that staircase that will lead you out of this floor, but each step that you took was not fast enough, not nimble enough, as if you’re wading through knee-deep water.

And before you know it the monster has caught up and is ready to pounce from right behind you.

“Get your hands off me!” you wailed as Bokuto heaved you by the waist and carried you over his shoulder.

The sudden upending of your world was so nauseating, you didn’t even notice that he’d already taken you to an almost pitch black classroom, its heavy curtains drawn together and the empty chairs and tables pushed to the side.

His large, sprawling hand was gripping your ass, your stomach lurching when you felt him caress it. Yet that didn’t deter you from hitting whichever part of him that your knuckles and feet could touch, ignoring the trail of your own spit that dripped on your face as you howled and thrashed and fought to keep yourself together because no one was hearing you.

What’s left for you, now? Your captor was so strong, much stronger than you, that even when he tripped on his toes, Bokuto was able to catch himself and drop you on the nearest table in just a single breath.

“Stop fighting me..!” he panted, holding you down as he knelt before you. “I’m not gonna hurt you! I- ow! Don’t-”

Bokuto’s grip on your wrists was unbudgeable. So, you didn’t miss the chance to bite him when he covered your mouth with his palm. Teeth chattering, you broke the tough flesh, sunk them sharply until the taste of salt and iron flooded your tongue.

You expected that it would push him away. Give you the leverage to escape.

That turned out to be a mistake.

His honey-gold eyes glinted as he stared deep into yours. Every hair on your body stood on end when the corners of his lips slowly lifted, eyes still fixed on you as he released a bubbly, childlike laughter.

“I've always wanted to do this to you," he sighed giddily.

The helplessness chipped at your insides bit by torturous bit when all you could do was rock the table with your flailing, while Bokuto had already crouched lower— low enough to pull the hem of your thin shorts with his teeth.

He watched you weep with a sickening display of dejection, like he's some dog that's been shoved around by his master.

"Please don't cry," Bokuto whined, peppering soft kisses all over the insides of your thighs then licking off the beads of sweat that covered the goosebumps.

You’re not giving up.

You couldn’t give up.

You pushed and gnawed and tore skin that you’re sure every inch of his palm is littered with fresh bruises, but this only seemed to encourage Bokuto, drawing out his drugged out moans as he spat on your clothed cunt, drool leaking down to your folds before he lapped at the wet spot. The moistened fabric scratched and rubbed against your clit to the point of quivering and writhing in his clutch.

“Oh, I know , baby,” Bokuto murmured, using the tip of his tongue to flick at the swollen nub. “I’ll make you feel real good soon.”

Shaking your head, the unwiped tears gathering around your eyelids dropped to his long, calloused fingers. And you wanted to screech, to tell him to go to hell as he swirled his tongue all over your embarrassingly slick hole.

No, you wanted more than that.

You wanted to drive your bare hands into his chest.

But that’s not what you did, is it?

When Bokuto finally removed his hand from your mouth, what slipped past your lips wasn’t the sound of a woman ready to kill. Instead, you sounded like a little girl begging to be carried home. And that hadn’t been the part that scared you, really.

It was the fact that no matter how much you tried to scream, nothing was coming out.

“L-let me go,” you wheezed, your voice cracking. “Or- or else.”

“Or else?” Bokuto replied, eliciting a gasp from you as he sniffed your throbbing, wet cunt. “Look at me, princess.”

“ Look at me ,” he repeated pleadingly, frustration giving his tone a rough edge, as he brought the hand that once suppressed your attempts to call for help to skim past your thigh and stroke the sole of your feet. “Just this once. See me.”

You kept your eyes closed, even as he kissed your toes and brought it down to his crotch, forcing you to dig your heel into the bulge jutting out. He rocked his hips, gyrating slowly, his cock hardening under your feet, as he whimpered into your leg.

“Please, please fuck me, please ,” Bokuto mewled. “I’ll do any- anything for you.”

Profanities rushed out of you, but no one could hear them. Not even you. Perhaps that's why he didn’t flinch when he lugged you down to straddle on his lap.

“Use me, baby,” he whispered, grinning wide as he snaked his other hand to your back and dug his nails around your nape, laying on his back and taking you with him as he did, your tits crushed to his chest.

With your arms dying in his grip, Bokuto easily stripped his pants along with his boxers. Violent trembles wracked your body as he dragged your pussy along his thick shaft, back and forth, your damp panties riding up every time he thrusted upwards.

His hot breath against your ear sent shivers down your spine as he giggled lowly, “Wanna cum inside you so fucking bad . Will you let me, hm? Please let me.”

Of course you didn’t want to. It’s not like you’d stop struggling, either. It’s just that Bokuto would never listen to you. Even when he whimpered and babbled, “You don’t want to- fuck, your pussy’s all nice and wet - oh, you don’t want to? That's okay, that’s okay, baby,” Bokuto still slipped his cock inside your underwear.

It slid past your lips up to your clit. And you’d never hated yourself more in your entire life when all you could do was stay limp and cry as the fat tip finally nudged your twitching hole.

“No, no, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispered, scattering kisses on your neck, “It’s just the head- just the head.”

As Bokuto groaned and rutted against you, all you wished for, in that moment, was for dawn to peek through the curtains and signal the end of this torment. But, still it went on with Bokuto stretching you open.

And as he split you in half, you detachedly realized that you were right.

This place did eat you alive.

#tw noncon #tw non con haikyuu #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro x female reader #Dark content haikyuu #yandere bokuto kotaro

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Post-canon, Nie Huaisang drops the 'Headshaker' facade and his disciples stop pretending they think he's incompetent, and a bunch of Sect Leaders who are used to being able to step all over Qinghe Nie are suddenly faced with a cunning, brilliant leader who Takes Absolutely No Shit.

Associates - Part 1 - ao3

Untamed verse

“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang said, so shocked that he didn’t even raise his fan in front of his face. “You want me to what now?”

“Help,” Lan Wangji said. He was seated across from Nie Huaisang, as stiff-backed and formal as if they were having a discussion conference banquet rather than a meal in Nie Huaisang’s private quarters in the Unclean Realm.

“Yes, I gathered as much,” Nie Huaisang said. “Two questions: Help with what? And – why me?”

Lan Wangji’s brow wrinkled minutely, which for the Lan sect suggested a state of extreme stress. “Brother has entered seclusion.”

“I know that,” Nie Huaisang said, firmly ignoring the niggling feeling of guilt. If Lan Xichen hadn’t wanted to be completely wrecked as collateral damage in Nie Huaisang’s revenge plan, he shouldn’t have tried to take Jin Guangyao’s side even after he knew what he’d done.

His da-ge deserved better than that. Especially from Lan Xichen.

“I have been appointed Chief Cultivator,” Lan Wangji said.

“I know that, too,” Nie Huaisang said. “I sent you a present in congratulations, didn’t I?”

Lan Wangji gave him a dead-eyed look, which meant he’d received it.

“I thought you and Wei Wuxian would enjoy it,” Nie Huaisang protested, hiding his twitching lips behind his fan. His favorite, as always – he might switch them out on a regular basis, but he always came back to this one, the one his brother had given him long, long ago. It served as a reminder that he should trust no one, which was a concept his stupid heart had a tendency to otherwise forget. “I understand that appropriate preparation is a very important part of the proceedings –”

The dead-eyed looked turned into a glare, and Nie Huaisang coughed into his hand and stopped talking about the jade phallus and jar of lubricant that he’d sent to the Cloud Recesses in a discreet package under the guise of a congratulations gift.

He really hoped he was lucky enough that Lan Wangji had opened it in front of other people, but sadly he suspected the other man knew him too well to do that.

“Speaking of which, have you married him yet?” he asked, ignoring his hurt at not having been informed. He hadn’t expected an invitation to the happy event itself, of course; Wei Wuxian had made very clear what he’d thought about what Nie Huaisang had done – don’t associate with evil. There was a reason that Nie Huaisang had carefully returned to referring to Wei Wuxian by name, rather than casually. But not even to receive a letter informing him of it having happened…?

“I have not,” Lan Wangji said. When Nie Huaisang goggled at him, disbelieving, he shifted minutely in his seat and said, “He wanted to travel. I – could not.”

“Well, of course you couldn’t,” Nie Huaisang said blankly. “You’re the Lan sect heir. If your brother goes into seclusion, then responsibility for managing your sect falls to you – and of course you were just named Chief Cultivator – wait, are you doing both jobs by yourself?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

Nie Huaisang had a momentary feeling of sincere pity, and then the true horror sunk in.

“And you’re asking me to help you?!” he yowled. “Hanguang-jun! You can’t be serious! Don’t you know what everyone says about me? Me, the hapless ‘I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know’, the one they all call the Headshaker?”

“I know what they call you,” Lan Wangji said, stoic as ever. “I also know what they said about Wei Ying, and about Lianfeng-zun. There is not much gain in listening to what people say.”

“I don’t think those are comparable situations,” Nie Huaisang complained, but even he had to admit it was a bit of a weak response.

“No?” Lan Wangji said. “Then you are not the man who drove Lianfeng-zun into a corner with no route of escape?”

Well, when he put it that way.

“That doesn’t mean I know anything about running a sect,” Nie Huaisang pointed out. “Sure, I’ve managed, but I had –” Er-ge and san-ge do it. “- help.”

“They each had their own sects to run,” Lan Wangji pointed out in return. “You must have done much of it yourself.”

“But –”

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said, and Nie Huaisang blinked. Lan Wangji hadn’t called him as informally as that in years, and certainly never since he became Sect Leader. “Please. As a favor to me.”

Nie Huaisang pursed his lips and looked down at his plate, reaching out and playing with his teacup.

It was a low blow, that.

Pity for Lan Wangji that low blows didn’t work on him anymore.

“We used to be friends, once,” Nie Huaisang said, not looking up. “A long time ago – do you remember? I was seven, you were eight, it was right after my father died. I slept in your room.”

He’d had screaming nightmares back then, and they were worse when he was alone. It hadn’t been just about his father, either, but his brother, the memory of fear in his eyes and bruises on his face, the desperate way he’d pleaded for Nie Huaisang to agree to go to Gusu just for a little while, the persistent worry about what was happening back home once he’d agreed, the haunting thoughts of losing him in the same way he’d lost his father…

Lan Wangji hadn’t been much of a talker back then, either, but he’d crawled into the cot they’d set up for Nie Huaisang in his room and had held his hand, right up until he’d passed out like clockwork at nine. His steady breathing had reminded Nie Huaisang of his brother, calming his nerves, and eventually he’d started confiding in him. Telling him all his fears – the secrets he’d guessed about the Nie family cultivation he only half-understood – the qi deviations –

“I remember,” Lan Wangji said.

“Later, when I came back to the Cloud Recesses to learn for the first time, I was so excited to see you again, and so disappointed to find out you were preparing to go into seclusion. When I snuck over to see you, you chased me away – and when you came out, you only spoke to me long enough to scold me about how I wasn’t obeying the rules properly. I thought you were embarrassed to be seen with me.”

Lan Wangji said nothing. He probably had been. With the benefit of hindsight and age, Nie Huaisang could even understand: adolescence was such a prickly age, and little things seemed so important.

“I was angry at you back then,” Nie Huaisang said. “Very angry – but all I did was start treating you coldly, calling you Lan-er-gongzi instead of Lan Zhan, waiting for you to remember that you liked me. And then the next year we had all those adventures together, you and me and Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, and of course we were close again during the war. You remember, I’m sure, how we used to stay together every time you came back to the Cloud Recesses or visited the Unclean Realm, how I couldn’t do anything for the war but worry, couldn’t do anything but keep you company, but you said it helped to lift your spirits before you headed out again. I even sent you letters after what happened with Wei-xiong– with Wei Wuxian. The siege of the Burial Mounds. I knew how close you were, and I wanted to comfort you if I could...but you never responded to any of them.”

He shook his head and rolled the teacup from one hand to another.

“And then you didn’t show up when my brother died. In seclusion again! For years and years! The honorable Hanguang-jun, always thinking about his cultivation; what a good seed you are, a pride and joy to your sect. Just like everyone always said.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Lan Wangji said. His voice was very quiet, a little hoarse. “I was not well.”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “No one ever explained, either then or thereafter. And no one else ever guessed ‘busy mourning the death of the love of your life’ was the reason, either, so I don’t know why you would expect me to.”

“You never spoke to me again,” Lan Wangji said, his jaw and throat working. He’d tried, a few times, but Nie Huaisang had looked through him as if he wasn’t there, twittering like a foolish little bird with only the most formal of addresses on his lips. “Only in passing, when you came to visit my brother.”

“As I’m sure you’ve realized by now, I’m very good at holding a grudge,” Nie Huaisang said, and put his teacup down. He knew perfectly well that he was being unfair, that he was being cruel and selfish and completely disregarding the many ways he had undoubtedly been unfair to Lan Wangji in turn through lack of consideration or otherwise. But he was cruel and selfish, his mission this past decade and more evidence enough of that, and that old pain of abandonment had lingered far past the point of reason. Still lingered, if he was being honest. “I’m sorry that you’re struggling, and for my part in it, but you’re going to have to do better than please.”

Lan Wangji was quiet, bowing his head. After a time, he said, “I was in recovery during that period. I did not learn about what had happened to your brother until – until much later. It was kept from me so as not to disturb me as I was healing...I can show you the remaining marks, if you wish.”

“That’d be something,” Nie Huaisang said, because he was a petty person like that. Because that had hurt back then, thinking that Lan Wangji was ignoring him even at that most desperate moment, hurt more than anything.

Well. Not more than anything.

Not more than losing his brother. Than finding out the truth about Jin Guangyao.

Than realizing he was the only one who could right this wrong, and that he would have to do it alone.

“If things had been different,” Lan Wangji said, and he did not lift his head. “If things had gone – otherwise. Would you have trusted me?”

Now it was Nie Huaisang’s turn to bow his head. If he had had Lan Wangji, had trusted Lan Wangji…yes, things might have gone very differently.

For Lan Xichen, at least.

“Perhaps,” he said, unwilling to commit himself but knowing that his mere lack of response said everything. “But enough about the past. Far more importantly - what about the future?”

Lan Wangji blinked at him.

Nie Huaisang sighed. “You’re right. I did learn to run a sect, at least somewhat. I may not be very good at it, but I know all the things a sect leader ought to know – all the secrets, all the gossip, how to commit to nothing while making people think you’ve agreed, who should sit next to who and who shouldn’t, what’s a trap and what isn’t, all the things you’ve never needed to care about it. Your brother made sure I knew it all, and told me many stories about things he was doing to run your sect to use as examples. As you suspected, I can probably help you, even if only in figuring out how to appropriately delegate the work.”

“But?”

“I may not be a very good custodian of it, but my sect is the only thing I have left,” Nie Huaisang said. “And you may have once been my friend, Lan Zhan, but now you’re the Chief Cultivator. Do not associate with evil. Am I to expect a freeze in trade relations? A subtle ostracization of my disciples? Will I be invited to the discussion conferences, or will people turn their faces away from me?” He shrugged. “You don’t get to play hot and cold with me anymore. You want my help, you stand by my side. No more judgment.”

Lan Wangji was frowning. “As Chief Cultivator, I must be impartial.”

“Just like the last three were? Wen Ruohan, Jin Guangshan, Jin Guangyao…oh yes, impartiality is truly intrinsic to the position, with such grand examples in your predecessors,” Nie Huaisang said archly, and this time he did open his fan. Trust no one. “I’m not asking for favoritism. Equality with all the others, and your support if someone tries to criticize me or remove me, especially for anything to do with Jin Guangyao; that’ll be enough. Well?”

Lan Wangji considered it for a long time.

It wasn’t anything personal – Lan Wangji was a contemplative sort of person – so Nie Huaisang didn’t take offense, just waited, occasionally moving to eat a little of the food.

“Very well,” Lan Wangji finally said. “I agree.”

Nie Huaisang was ready with his next question, and also a bite of some grilled vegetables, which he swallowed down before speaking. “And if Wei Wuxian doesn’t?”

Lan Wangji’s hands tightened around his knees. “I have said I will defend you. I have not named exceptions.”

“Just checking,” Nie Huaisang said, then smiled and put some of the vegetables into Lan Wangji’s bowl. “Eat up, Lan Zhan! We’re going to have our work cut out for us.”

Lan Wangji nodded. He seemed resigned.

“If you want, I’ll even deal with Jiang Cheng for you,” Nie Huaisang said. “But it’ll cost you.”

Lan Wangji tilted his head to the side, as if it could hide how much his eyes had brightened in anticipation of that particular burden being taken off his back.

“Remember when we were kids and I asked you to do my copying for me?”

A slow blink. “You want me to do paperwork?”

“I want you to do so much paperwork,” Nie Huaisang said emphatically. He even waved his hands around in emphasis, he meant it so strongly. “I’ll tell you what needs to be done and who needs to do it, I’ll show you how to keep the smaller sects in line and how to manage conferences, but if I never see another memorial in my life it will be too soon..!”

“I think,” Lan Wangji said dryly, “that we will be able to devise an equitable division of labor.”

“Old friend!” Nie Huaisang trilled happily, holding out his arms.

“Do not hug me.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, don’t be like that –”

“Do not hug me.”

“Don’t be so cold! How are we going to get Wei Wuxian back by your side if we don’t put some effort into making him jealous?”

“…explain.”

“Well, the way I see it –”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #associates #wantonlywindswept

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teasty · 3 years

Text

kiss yourself (02) |h.js (m)

● pairing: han jisung x (female) reader

�� genre: angst, smut, (kinda) fluff || fwb to lovers au

● words: 7.0k

→ summary: It all started when you and your best friend for life, Han Jisung, got a little bit too tipsy at a party and ended up waking up naked in the same bed. After that unfortunate night, you and Jisung confirmed there be a distinguished “friends with benefits” relationship between the two of you, with a few rules.

Number One: No one else is supposed to know about this relationship.

Number Two: The minute one of the two of you starts a serious relationship with someone, the benefits are cut off immediately.

Number Three: Have to respect the other’s wishes, if one doesn’t want to do it, then there’s no argument.

Number Four: No falling in love.

But, when Jisung starts crushing over your classmate, you start to break the rules. One by one.

● taglist: @itzgabz22

Chapter One | CHAPTER TWO | Chapter Three

“Oh, baby, I’m going to fuck you so good…”

You debated arson the next morning.

You woke up to the sound of screaming over the phone before the sun even came up, and realized that Jeongja was screaming her head off at some poor sap that probably didn’t deserve it. Well, who knows, you’re just mad that she didn’t even bother to leave the dorm room and go scream out in the hallway to give you your peace and another two hours of sleep. She didn’t even bother to apologize to you, only giving you a wave before she gathered some things and dashed out the door.

So, of course, you weren’t really the most happy - go - lucky person today. You decided to be lazy today and just wore an oversized gray tee shirt underneath a black jacket and a pair of denim blue ripped jeans. You didn’t even bother to do your hair, deciding to just let it flow around your shoulders and do it’s thing.

You didn’t see Jeongja again that day. You expected to see her somewhere on campus since you wanted to speak, no, yell at her why she should never, ever scream at three fifty in the morning and not even bother to apologize about it and then go running off. You debated calling her, but you didn’t want to deal with it, especially when you have better things to worry about.

It wasn’t really supposed to be a busy day, but it turned out to be just that. You’re a member of a specific team mostly meant for the organization and well being of the school. It could be considered something like a student council, but you’re not really in charge of the students, just more planning for future events and other things as well as budgeting. You’re only on this team because you were specifically chosen by a group of professors choosing students by their major. So, you, a political science major, got specially chosen for the job. Whether or not you wanted to be a part of the team, you were persuaded into it by professors, saying it’ll be beneficial for future decisions in your career as a politician.

There were only another seven students on the team. One of which, thankfully, is someone you know and trust, Christopher Bang. You both became good friends after you met him that one night months ago. Especially being on this team together made you both closer, and he was a lot friendlier than you had first imagined.

There’s another girl you know on the team, but you couldn’t call her your friend. Sure, you two talked often and never had any reason to dislike each other, but something about her just wasn't right with you. Her name is Jun Chunae. A beautiful young woman in your year, as well as your same major. She’s quite refined and civilized, if anything a little bit too proper for your liking. Whenever you tried to talk about parties, drinking or even just going out with friends for fun, she always liked to lecture you on how it’s disrespectful to the education system to ignore it’s attempt to educate us by going out and partying at night.

Other than that, she’s alright.

But, another thing about Chunae that never really sparked you right was how she acted when she was with Jisung. You had only learned recently that they’re quite touchy - feely with each other. You didn’t think they were friends, but it was obvious that Chunae had the hots for Jisung. But, with Jisung, you couldn’t really tell if he was attracted to her or not. He kind of treated her the way he treats every other girl, including you. And, that fact kind of made you upset. You know that you’re only his friend, but you have benefits that no other girl, to your knowledge, has. No, you don’t want to be treated like his girlfriend, but you didn’t just want to be treated like the only girl in the world one night only to watch him kissing up to someone else the next.

Were you jealous? Yeah, you were. You weren’t too fond of a girl you don’t exactly trust being too intimate with Jisung, your best friend. But, you’d never, ever, admit that to Jisung.

He’d cut things off the minute he hears that you’re jealous. He’d think you’re falling for him, and then try everything in his power to make sure nothing happens between the two of you. And that you’ll only stay his friend, with or without those stupid benefits.

But, back to the point at hand, you were pulled early out of your last class to attend a meeting for the team. You had met up with Christopher on your way to the conference room, since he had a class nearby your own.

“What could they want this time? And, here I thought we finally got out of these dumb meetings,” you whined, and Christopher laughed, nodding along as he agrees.

“I’m not sure,” Christopher sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I think Chunae would be sure to know,” Christopher rolls his eyes. Chunae was always the smart one of the group. She usually knew things before the rest of the team would know, which, in your eyes, was completely unfair. “Nothing against the girl, I just don’t like how she gets all these benefits just ‘cause she kisses the professor’s asses.”

“Right. I get what you mean,” you nod slowly, “But, it must be important if they pulled us out early without notifying us beforehand. It must be for some kind of event going on. No clue, though. We haven’t had a festival yet, so they might start one since winter’s coming soon.”

“Maybe a festival for the first snow?” Christopher suggests.

You shrug a shoulder, “Who knows. I don’t bother checking the weather, so snow could be falling any day, really. But you would think they would at least shoot us an email, right?”

“Who am I kidding, they don’t really care too much to ask if we’re free for a meeting. I was planning on going out with some friends tonight, but if this meeting is just like any other, then I might have to cancel.” Christopher looks down, obviously upset about the situation.

“Hey, don’t be so down about it. We might end early. And, if they do try to keep us in late, then just say you had plans and leave. It’s not like they’re going to kick out or anything. Besides, we’re already only eight people, we need more members, anyways.” You reassure, giving Christopher a friendly pat on the shoulder. You let your hands rest in your pocket, “Were you going to go with Jisung?’

“No, he said he had things to do,” Christopher shakes his head, not minding how you asked about Jisung, since you usually did to keep tabs on him, “No clue what, since that boy complains twenty - four seven about how boring it is in his dorm and how his roomie is usually doing his own thing. So it was just going to be Hyunjin, Changbin, Felix, Minho, Seungmin and I. We were gonna go to a bar. I’d invite you, but I don’t know how comfortable you would be around a bunch of guys without Jisung.”

“Yeah… Thanks for the consideration, though. I haven’t gone out drinking in a while. It might’ve been fun, but I think I would have had things to do tonight, anyways,” You give him a half - hearted smile, and Christopher bothers you a glance before his eyes shoot forward again. “Oh, hey, we’re here already.” You laugh to yourself as you stand in front of a wooden door with the word ‘CONFERENCE’ on it. Christopher opens the door for you, and you walk in. It’s dimly lit, and you weren’t surprised to see Chunae sitting at the head of the table, scrolling through her laptop as a professor sat next to her, mumbling about who knows what.

Her eyes shoot up the moment she hears the door open, and she shoots both you and Christopher a well practiced business smile before she takes her hands off her laptop and bows her head in welcome. Both you and Christopher bow back in respect, especially since a professor is present, and you both take a seat next to each other. “Hello (Y/N), Christopher. Good to see you guys made it. You have our apologies for pulling you out of class at random, but it’s quite important. Let's wait for the others before we start.”

“How important is it?” You ask, leaning back in the comfortable chair, raising a suspicious brow at Chunae, who closes her laptop.

“We’re holding an event, (Y/N),” Chunae says matter - of - factly, as if you should have known this by now, “It’s for the start of winter for the first snow. We’re going to do things a bit differently, a bit more western. It’s going to be… something like a dance. Except, we will have a performer and activities present, but for the majority of it, it’s a dance for the start of winter.”

“Called it,” Christopher raises a hand, and Chunae raises a thin, neatly trimmed brow at Christopher.

“Barely. It’s not like it’s a festival,” you hold back laughter as Christopher shrugs, still proud of his semi - correct assumption.

“Well, it can either be considered a festival or dance. Doesn’t really matter,” Chunae says, and Christopher snorts, and you glare at him. You fold your arms over your chest, making Chunae smile at your stubbornness, “Oh, come on, (Y/N). This will be fun. First, we must figure out budgeting and organization, as well as fitting everything into the school’s schedule. Other than that, it should mostly be advertising and preparation.”

After Chunae’s short description of what’s going to happen, the other team members glide in one by one. They all wave or bow to you, Christopher, the professor and to Chunae. All taking their respective seats and waiting for Chunae to begin the meeting. The professor left shortly after, not without bidding us good luck.

“Oh, and Chunae?” Christopher pipes up, and Chunae raises her brows at Christopher, giving him her attention, “How long are you going to keep up here. I originally had plans to go out with friends, so I don’t want to stay here until eleven like last time, if you can help it.”

“This is a very vital meeting, Christopher,” Chunae says, and Christopher rolls his eyes, looking away, “I don’t care if you want to go out with friends or not, this meeting might be long and that’s alright. You may choose to leave when you feel like it, but you might be absent for important information. It’s your choice.”

“Then why can’t you just e - mail me the information I missed?” Christopher shrugs a shoulder, and you nod in agreement.

“Because it’s better to discuss in person, is it not?” Chunae stands up, picking up her laptop, “We will debate on different things, as well as discuss things. It’s difficult to discuss in real time over e - mail.”

“Then call me. I’ve got things planned, Chunae, you can’t just pull us out of nowhere and expect us to keep our mouths shut when you don’t even warn us beforehand that there’s going to be a meeting. Sorry, Chunae, but you’re not in charge,” Christopher sighs, obviously irritated. Chunae waits with a stoic expression.

“I’m sorry, Christopher. I really am. I know I’m not in charge, but the professors have trusted me with the information I’m about to share. If you take this role responsibly, you’ll stay without argument. If you don’t, then leave. You won’t be kicked from your spot, but, as said before, you will miss a lot of vital information. It’s your choice in the end,” Chunae responds, and Christopher sighs, deciding not to argue further.

And after that little dispute, Chunae started the meeting by explaining what’s going on. And, as said before, the school is hosting a dance, which is not something ordinary for Korean colleges, since festivals usually took place in spring and usually was just with an invited idol to perform for a few hours. Chunae explained that this dance is mainly supposed to mark the end of fall and a new quarter, as well as the first seeing of snow. It was obvious, even though she never directly said it, that it’s mostly meant for couples and friends.

Each team member was given a specific task to do. Before Christopher left to go out with friends, he was given the task of budgeting. You were in charge of consulting, which was mostly just getting people to fund as well as finding performers, DJs, hosts and other people. It’s a lot of social work you weren’t too excited for, but you knew you had to take responsibility and do the job whether or not you wanted to do it.

Though it was quite boring, you had gotten a text midway through it. Chunae gave you a subtle glare, but didn’t care for how you responded to the text and carried on with the meeting.

It was Jisung.

heard you were pulled into a meeting. how long will u be there?

You responded quickly, keeping your phone under the table as you typed, your hands somewhat trembling, and you had to calm yourself as you typed.

wont be leaving for another hour or two. its pretty big. ill let you know when im leaving

He responded to you, but you didn’t bother to look at it as you shoved your phone back in your pocket.

“And who was that?” Chunae asks after a moment, staring down at you.

“Why do you wanna know?” Your brows furrow, and Chunae sighs.

“Because I’m talking about something important and you’re texting.”

“It’s my friend. Calm down, he’s just wondering when I’m getting off,” you raise your hands in a mocking surrender, and Chunae’s chin lifts higher.

“Hmm. Is it Jisung? Han Jisung? He’s your friend, is he not?” Chunae asks, and you begin to feel annoyance pile through you.

“Yeah, he is. What about it?” You ask, and Chunae shrugs her shoulders.

“I was just wondering,” Chunae sits back down in her seat, the others watching the conversation between the two of you with curious eyes. Chunae stuffs a lock of hair behind her ear, “He’s quite the looker. I hope I have your blessing if anything were to happen between us.”

“I don’t care what happens between the two of you guys,” you spit out, lying straight through your teeth. You do care. You care a lot. A part of you would be happy for Jisung, but another part doesn’t want him to leave you hanging for a girl like Chunae. You know she would treat him well and that Jisung might be better off with a girl like Chunae, but that jealous part of you doesn’t want to let him go. You love the sneaking around, the overnight sessions and even the semi - public ones. You’re not really ready to let that go, yet. It’s only been a few months. You didn’t expect for someone to be kissing up to Jisung this soon, but you should have expected it. “He’s my best friend. As long as you treat him well, then I might not consider punching your teeth in if you do end up with him.”

Chunae laughs, and you tensely chuckle through your nose along with her, “Well, I’m sure Jisung is happy to have a friend like you, (Y/N). So protective. Sometimes I’ve gone to wonder if you two are really in a relationship or not.”

“Yeah. You two basically hang off of each other, you’re around each other all of the time,” says another team member who you recognized as Naeyeon. Someone you didn’t bother to get to know. She didn’t seem to like you that much, anyways.

“It’s none of your business in the first place, if we were in a relationship. Which, we’re not,” you snap, not really in the mood to talk about Jisung right now, “Can we get back to the main focus?”

“Yes, my apologies, (Y/N). I shouldn’t invade your personal life like that in a professional environment like this,” Chunae stands up again, and you sigh. Already tired of this meeting.

At the end, you’re given loads of papers to go through considering consultation, and you weren’t ready to study them just yet. Your backpack got ten times heavier as you stuffed them in there, and you were the first one to leave when Chunae called the meeting to an end. You didn’t even bother to wave goodbye as you slammed through the door, basically speed - walking to get out of the main building and to the dorm rooms.

As said before, you had nothing against Chunae. In fact, you’d like to get to know her past her proper and all - to civilized self. If she were to let loose, she might be really fun, in your eyes. Her whole aura just sets you off, sometimes. Sometimes, she can get pretty stuck up, and you’re not sure how Jisung could handle her if he continuously complains about your stubbornness.

Speaking of Jisung, one of the first things you did when you basically ran out of the conference room was text Jisung that the meeting’s finally over and if you should start heading there.

He never answered faster.

He said you should head there, but to be careful of security since it’s so late. You were cautious, but thankfully no officer was out this late, even though it was only ten - thirty at night and curfew was thirty minutes ago. It’s a pretty long walk to Jisung’s dorm, though, since it’s on the top floor of the (decently huge) building. Since it’s past curfew, the elevators weren’t in working order anymore, and you had to take the stairs to the top floor, which absolutely killed your feet. But, once you made it to the familiar dorm door, you rested against the doorframe before knocking softly.

It takes Jisung a minute to open the door. You take that time to relax your weight against the doorframe, but your peace is short-lived when the door swings open so fast you almost lose balance of yourself by how fast Jisung opens the door. So, it takes you a short moment to actually take in Jisung’s appearance. His hair is messy and damp, and it’s obvious he has just showered most likely not too long ago. He wears a pair of gray sweatpants and no shirt, and you try not to gawk at his well built and defined body. He stares down at you silently, a small smirk playing at his lips as his half - lidded eyes scan over your body.

But, after that moment, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you inside. The moment the door is slammed shut and locked behind you, he presses you against the door. Your heart beats rapidly against your chest as Jisung’s hands grip your wrists and pin you to the door. His face mere centimeters away from yours, and you can feel his warm breath against your lips. Your backpack falls to the floor. No matter how many times you’ve had sex with Jisung, he’s never been one for intimate kissing in your relationship with him. Which, to you, was weird since he always tried to get playful kissing from you out of sex or even from his other friends. Sure, you’ve both kissed before, but usually it’s not very intimate.

But, he kisses you before you could say anything. His hands firmly, yet gently gripping your wrists and pinning them to the door as his lips find themselves planted against yours. His soft lips move with yours in a passionate sync, and you don’t hesitate when you kiss him back. Your hands balled into fists as Jisung presses his body against yours, both of your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. Chills shoot through your body as Jisung’s lips capture yours in a slow, yet lust filled kiss. It’s not rushed nor sloppy, but filled with desire and crave. You let yourself melt into his kiss, his experienced lips having you succumb to him, and you could already feel yourself dripping wet from just this simple kiss.

To you, however, it wasn't so simple. You never usually get this chance to have Jisung kiss you so passionately. You never bothered to ask why, and mostly thought he didn’t want to do it because, during sex, it’s something mostly only real couples would do. Not friends with benefits. So, when his tongue meets with yours in a euphoric, blissful way, you try to savor the feeling. Knowing this might be one of few chances you’ll get to actually enjoy such a kiss, you try to make it last as long as you can.

Jisung’s lips eventually lift off of yours, but he leads a trail of firm, wet kisses down your jawline and over your neck. His tongue licking stripes up your neck as he sucks on the delicate skin. Your womanhood throbs from the feeling, and your legs press together. Jisung’s hands let go of your wrists, and you let your hands grip onto Jisung’s hair. His hands creep underneath your shirt and hoodie, lifting them up as his cold hands meet with your warm skin. His hands feel up your waist, and your head falls back, your kiss - bruised mouth opening from the bliss.

“What… What’s gotten into you tonight?” You mumble out, your arms wrapping around Jisung’s neck, pressing him further against you as his hands firmly brush over your ass and up your back.

Jisung’s lips brush against the lobe of your ear and he chuckles deeply, sending chills through you and you let out a pathetic whimper because of it, “Can’t I do something for a friend?” He says this in just above a whisper, his voice deeper and huskier than normal. And then he goes back to pressing kisses underneath your ear, trailing down your neck, moving one hand up to move your hair out of the way.

You don’t argue with him, and you let him dominate you.

Jisung pulls off your hoodie along with your tee shirt. Pulling you away from the door as he throws the articles of clothing to the side. He guides you to his bed, having you lay down on your back as Jisung pulls himself over you. Trapping you underneath him, and your hands fly to the sides of your head, succumbing to him. Jisung pushes himself down, now pressing kisses to your collarbone and over your chest. One hand fumbling with the straps of your bra, pushing them down your shoulders before they tamper with the clip.

Jisung doesn’t even hesitate to rip off your bra, and throw it alongside the other articles of clothing (most of which landed on Jeongin’s bed, and you would do something about it if you weren’t so caught up in the moment with Jisung). You let in a deep, sharp inhale when your warm breasts make contact with the cool air. Jisung looks down at you, examining your exposed breasts before his eyes flicker up to meet yours. Your face is flushed a beautiful pink, and Jisung stares at your face, loving the flustered expression you’re making before his head dips down. One hand flying up to cup one breast, his hands moving efficiently and swiftly as he firmly massages it. His lips kissing down your other breast before his tongue makes contact with your erect bud.

You emit a breathy moan as chills run through your body as Jisung suckles on one breast while his hand plays with the other. His thumb running over and pressing against the hard bud as he firmly massages your breast in circles. His tongue working wonders over your sensitive nipple, and your teeth capture your bottom lip in between them as your hands run through his hair, letting out soft whimpers here and there when he sucks harshly on your breast or pinches your nipple.

“Jisung… Oh, you’re gonna make me pay you back for this, aren’t you?” You breathe out, and Jisung chuckles against you. His tongue pressing against your nipple, and his eyes look up to meet yours.

Once he lets go, your back arches when your breast, which was once warm in the cavern of Jisung’s mouth and tongue, meets the cold air. “You think so lowly of me, baby.” Jisung presses kisses along your chest, going lower and lower, and you watch him with dark, lust filled eyes.

“I’m usually the one blowing you off, Jisung - ah,” you state, “It’s not like you to - mmh…! - do things like this.” The back of your hand presses against your lips as they press into a firm line, trying to hold back whimpers as Jisung’s fingers start to undo the buttons of your jeans. His lips pressing kisses to the bottom of your abdomen; a sensitive area, and it sends sparks of chills up your spine.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” Jisung breathes out, lips still pressed against your skin as he speaks, his dark eyes flickering up to meet with yours, “Don’t think too much into it. Just let me make you feel good, alright?” You nod quickly, your mouth closing and your hips lift with Jisung’s hands as he slowly pulls off your jeans. “That’s my good girl. My good little (Y/N).” He chuckles darkly, and you whimper softly at both the feeling of your soaked panties meeting the cold air and from Jisung’s praise.

Your thighs are on either side of his head, and Jisung’s hands guide them apart, spreading you out for him. And, boy, is it a sight for sore eyes. Jisung occasionally looking up at you, the eye contact making you even wetter from just the intensity of his eyes. His breath fans your clothed cunt, and your hips jitter and twitch just from that. Jisung cooes at your sensitivity. He knows you’re sensitive, but since things are usually rushed, he’s never really taken the chance to slowly edge you on. “My baby girl is so sensitive and I haven’t even touched her pussy…”

Jisung’s finger makes contact with your clothed cunt, pressing against your labia and firmly pressing up and over your clit. Your hips stutter at the feeling, and Jisung watches you as your eyes squeeze shut and your head falls back. Your mouth opening to let out a beautiful, breathy moan.

But, you weren’t prepared for when Jisung pulls off your panties, his hands having to fly up to stop your thighs from slamming against either side of his head. “Ah - ah - ah… keep your legs spread for me.” He guides your legs back, spread apart and resting against the sheets. A slight burn on your inner thighs from the stretch. You watch Jisung as one arm wraps around one of your thighs, his other hand caressing your other thigh, and he presses a wet kiss on your inner thigh. Dangerously close to your exposed pussy. And, oh, how exposed you feel. Usually, you both do quickies in bathrooms or the car or somewhere where you have to put your clothes back on quickly. You’re never, usually, completely nude in front of him. So you couldn’t deny that you were a bit embarrassed by how exposed you were to him.

Your head flies back, and you finally let out your first vocal moan when Jisung’s mouth comes in contact with your pussy. His tongue pressing against your wet cunt and his lips kissing your folds. Jisung smirks against you, his tongue working wonders on your throbbing cunt. His warm mouth engulfing your cunt, and your hands brush through his hair. Gripping onto either his hair or the sheets by you as Jisung’s tongue lickes stripes up your labia, occasionally teasing your sensitive, aching clit.

Your moans get even louder when one of Jisung’s fingers begins to tease your entrance, his mouth now more focused on your clit. His middle finger slowly enters you, and you clench around him. “Oh, fuck, Jisunggie… That feels so good.” You whimper out as Jisung’s knuckles meet with you, as his finger is fully flush inside of you. Your warmth engulfing his finger, clenching around him, looking for something more. He chuckles against you, his tongue still licking up your clit, sometimes pressing sloppy kisses to it. His finger slowly begins to thrust in and out of you. More of a slow drag than a thrust.

Your mind fogs as Jisung slowly begins to add more and more fingers, his pace still slow, but fast enough to make you whimper delicately when his fingers hit a certain spot deep inside your wet, warm walls. His other hand gripping your thigh firmly, but not firm enough to leave a mark of any kind. You gently moan out his name, and it only seems to give him more and more confidence to be just a little bit rougher, but still being euphorically slow and steady.

However, it’s when he sucks gently on your clit and roughly drags three fingers out, stretching you out, before letting them roughly ram back into you, hitting your G - Spot, when you feel your climax nearing. Your back arches, and your hands grip the sheet by your head tightly as you let out a moan, “Ji… Baby, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your bottom lip becomes captured in between your teeth as your hips begin to stutter and twitch, bucking up into Jisung, but his free hand tries to hold you down. He didn’t respond. In fact, he didn’t even look up at you. His brows furrow, focused solely on your climax. He doesn’t slow down either. He only speeds up. Sucking on your clit while his fingers thrust into you.

When your climax hits, you let out a string of loud moans, both incoherent curse words and Jisung’s name. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your mouth opens. Your back arching off of the bed as you cum on Jisung’s fingers. His fingers rut slowly into you, twisting and pressing against your G - Spot. His tongue presses against your clit to helpL: you ride out your high.

His lips detach from your throbbing pussy, and his fingers slowly pull out of you. His fingers coated in your cum. Jisung takes a moment to catch his breath. He looks up at you, and you're still coming back from your orgasm, the sense of overwhelming bliss. Jisung climbs up, trapping you under him once more. Your legs still spread for him, and Jisung pulls you into another kiss.

You can taste yourself on his tongue. It’s bitter, but you don’t care. You don’t care for how gross it may be, you just want to kiss him. You just want all of him.

Your arms wrap around his neck, and Jisung’s hands caress your thighs, “Oh, baby, I’m going to fuck you so good… You want that? Want me to fuck you, baby girl?”

Your head leans back and Jisung’s lips graze over your neck, “Yes, Jisung. I want you to fuck me hard… Want you to fill me, please. Please, Jisung, I need you so bad.”

Jisung smirks, already pulling down his sweats, “I fucking love how you beg for me. Only for me.” You moan out in response. Jisung finally lets his hard cock free, and it presses to his abdomen. Leaking with precum, just from eating you out. The tip is a pretty pink, and you bask in the thought how you, alone, can make him so hard. Jisung gets on his knees, and you watch how he takes a condom from his nightstand drawer and rips it open. Preparing his cock into it before his tip presses against your cunt, still sensitive from your last orgasm.

“You ready for me, baby?” Jisung asks, moving your hips up to align with his cock, which is barely pressing against your entrance. You nod frantically, the only thing coursing through your mind being how badly you want Jisung’s cock inside you. How ready you are for him. “Use your words, (Y/N).”

“Yes… Goddamn it, Jisung, just fuck me already, please. I need it so bad,” You whimper out, irritated by the emptiness inside you.

Jisung laughs darkly, “Feisty, now are we? I like your pride, (Y/N), but I’ll be sure to shut you up, got it?” And, without warning, Jisung presses into you. Your hand flies up to cover your mouth as Jisung’s hard cock slowly drags deeper and deeper into you. Filling you to the brim, and stretching you out more than his fingers ever could. Jisung’s hand grips your wrist, pinning it to the bed, “No, no. I want to hear your voice. Wanna hear your pretty moans as I break you.”

Jisung is slow, painfully slow at first. You’re wondering how he could hold back, since he usually tends to fuck you like no tomorrow. Jisung slowly drags himself out, feeling your walls clench around him, before pushing himself back in. His head dips down to watch his cock disappear into your soaking pussy, and he lets out small groans as you let out breathy moans with each thrust. “Ji… Jisung - ah… Faster, please.” Jisung looks up at you, a smirk edging on his lips before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“As you wish, (Y/N),” and so he followed through with your plea, and slowly started to pick up speed. His forehead presses against the side of your head as your legs wrap around his waist, allowing him to get even deeper inside you. With every thrust, you can feel his tip meet your cervix, and it’s such an intense feeling, you could cum right there with just enough force. But, you want this to last. You want to savor this moment for as long as you can.

Soon enough, Jisung flips you over, pressing the side of your face into the mattress as he gets on his knees. He leans over you, pressing his chest against your back and moves your hair to the side to give himself the access he needs to press wet kisses to the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine as he enters you once more. His hands grip your wrists as he groans into your neck, your loud moans muffled by the pillow below you as Jisung rams into you. His cock moving fast against your walls, giving such a blissful, burning sensation inside you that you want even more of. His hips meet over and over again with your ass as he thrusts into you. Your moans echo through the room, and at this point, you don’t care if anyone overheard you.

“Oh, fuck, baby. God, I love your pussy so much,” Jisung moans out next to your ear, and you don’t have the stability to respond to him, only with pathetic moans falling out of your lips. “Drivin’ me goddamn crazy…” Jisung grumbles as he sits himself up. His hands gripping your hips firmly to move you with him, sending you back with his thrusts as he fucks himself into you.

You can tell when Jisung is nearing his climax, because instead of his usual rhythmic thrusts, his hips begin to stagger and twitch, and his moans rise in pitch and get louder in volume. When he nears his climax, you can feel another one climbing up for you, mostly from the pure oversensitivity from your last orgasm. “Oh my fucking god… Oh fuck, cum with me, (Y/N). Cum with me.” He moans out his words, and your voice gets higher as your back arches once more, meeting your climax. Jisung leans over you again, his forehead resting on the back of your neck as his hands tightly grip your hips as he cums at last into the condom.

“Fucking hell… that was so good,” you breath out, trying to catch your breath. Jisung takes his time to relax his overworked muscles by leaning over you. He takes a minute before he pulls himself up and out of you. Your hips fall, and you wipe off the sweat as Jisung ties off the condom and gets up, tossing it into the bin.

He gets up, going over to his dresser to grab a towel. He cleans you up silently, and you watch him with curious eyes.

The moment he turns away to toss the towel into a hamper, you get up and walk over to Jeongin’s bed to grab the clothes Jisung had thrown onto it. You pick up your bra and shirt, and you barely even notice Jisung behind you before he speaks, “Are you leaving?”

“Don’t you want me to?” You look over to Jisung, who’s now wearing a pair of boxers and nothing more. He’s standing close behind you. You don’t mind the close proximity.

Jisung shakes his head, “No… Stay here tonight. Jeongin won't be back till the weekend.” Your mouth falls ajar slightly, surprised by his words. You pull your shirt over your head and put it on, and Jisung watches you.

“Alright… I’ll stay,” you sigh, and Jisung smiles down at you softly. You turn to face him, your brows furrowed, “But, seriously, what has gotten into you? You’re a bit more… intimate tonight. Didn’t really expect that.”

“What? Can’t I do something for you?” Jisung teasingly smirks at you.

“Well… yeah, but I just didn’t expect you… to do that.” You mumble out, and Jisung laughs.

“Kiss you like that?”

“Yeah.” You shrug a shoulder, “You know what, let’s not think too much into it. I’m tired.” You sigh, and Jisung laughs softly, shaking his head. You climb into his bed, pulling his blanket over you as Jisung turns off the lights and climbs in right next to you. Pressing his chest against your back, and one of his arms wraps around your waist. His chin resting on top of your head. Your heart hammers against your chest, and you try to calm yourself so he wouldn’t hear it. But, it seems impossible. Jisung’s acting weird today, and you want to find out why.

But, the answer comes sooner than you imagined.

“I don’t think we’ll be doing this much longer.”

Your eyes snap open, and your brows furrow. “What… did you say?”

“I said… I don’t think we’ll be doing this much longer,” Jisung repeats, a bit louder than before. You had heard him loud and clear the first time, but it shocked you, “I… I dunno, (Y/N). There’s this girl. And… I really… really like her. God, I sound like a middle schooler, don’t I?” He chuckles, but you don’t respond to him. You stare at the darkness, and Jisung clears his throat awkwardly when he realizes that you’re not responding. His arm squeezes you tightly. “If things work out, we can’t do this anymore.”

“Who is it?”

“Huh?”

“Who is it.”

Jisung chuckles again, and you can tell he’s getting nervous. Whatever the reason is, you don’t know. Maybe he can tell that you’re irritated with this news, “You know that one girl in your political science class? Jun Chunae. It’s her.” You hold back a groan, and roll your eyes. Of course it’s Chunae, “She and I have been hanging out recently. And, god, I think I really like her, (Y/N).”

“Of course,” you scoff, and Jisung props himself up to look at you through the darkness, “Of fuckin’ course it’s Chunae. Always Jun Chunae. That’s why you invited me over, wasn’t it? That’s why you treated me so well tonight, because it’s one of the last times, huh?”

“No, that’s not… that’s not what I’m saying,” Jisung says slowly, as if dipping toes in dangerous waters.

“Don’t lie to me, Jisung,” you snap, “I know you. You don’t like to kiss me before, during or even after sex. You just don’t. You don’t take it slow and you don’t even usually bother to pleasure me. I get it now. It’s not a problem, I’m just a bit upset that you lied to me.”

“And how the fuck did I lie to you,” Jisung doesn’t even ask it, it’s more of a demand. You can hear how he’s getting angry right back at you.

“You said you wanted to do something special for me. You said that this was supposed to be special. But, it’s not. Just for you to cut things off.” You sit up and push Jisung’s arm off of you. You scramble off of the bed, and Jisung laughs bitterly.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). You’re overreacting,” you can hear Jisung’s smile in his voice, but you don’t smile. You don’t even bother with your underwear and just throw your jeans on. You turn on the light and slip on your shoes. Jisung’s expression falls, “Wait, (Y/N), don’t leave.” You turn back to give him a dead glare, and Jisung brows crease in desperation.

“I don’t think it’s necessary for me to be here if you’re going to start chasing after Chunae, don’t you think?” You say and sling your backpack over your shoulders.

“But, if you just wait a little bit longer… I can…”

“You can what, Jisung?” You turn to face him.

“I…” Jisung trails off.

“Goodnight, Jisung. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You unlock the door and open it, “Thanks for the special night.”

Jisung gives up, and plops back onto the bed as you slam the door behind you.

Now you were really considering arson. And not just for the school, but to just burn down Jun Chunae.

You weren’t in love with Han Jisung. But a part of you was beginning to debate that.

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

What Could've Been

Requested By Anon: "pls do a rosé or jennie imagine where the reader is into them but they just keep rejecting her. then they just cross the line one day and say hurtful things to y/n so the reader just ended up stopped pursuing them. then someone else (could be the other rosé or jennie also of yk what i mean) became interested in y/n and they get all petty and jealous yk djajdua,, COULD BE ANY ENDING HFHSHAU I'M JUST A REAL SUCKER FOR IMAGINES LIKE THIS TYSM"

Pairing: Love Triangle -- Jennie x Fem!Reader and Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 7,333

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Pining, Rejection, Crying, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: ⚠️ Important ⚠️ Class, gather round -- we have some things to discuss. I'm not angry, just... disappointed. *dramatic music*

First off, I want to address something with asks: as I've stated before, there's no certain amount of time that any one request will take me. Sometimes I'm more inspired by one than others, and sometimes I legitimately lack the time or brainpower to write a piece that holds true to my standards.

Please, refrain from messaging me multiple times about a request. Once is fine, especially if it's been awhile since you first asked, but I'm doing my best to give you starving fans the content you wish to see, and that takes time.

To those of you who continue to be patient with me: I sincerely appreciate it.

Secondly, I hope you enjoy this. ♡ Happy Reading ♡

PS ~ Anon, I still love you. Now enjoy this fic or you're grounded.

PPS ~ It gets better as it goes on

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Thank you," you politely say to your driver, handing him some money before stepping out of the sleek black car and onto the sidewalk. The bottoms of your shoes crunch lightly as they come in contact with the concrete, steadily announcing your course towards the performance hall.

You let out a breath as you stand in the elevator, alone with your thoughts in the small space as it ascends.

Your hands nervously palm the fresh bouquets of flowers you purchased on your way here -- the girls just finished a comeback stage, so you've decided to surprise them and show your love. You spent time picking out a personalized batch for each of them, making sure to mix their favorite colors and types, but you went even further for Rosé: you hand picked a larger, special array, choosing them based on their meaning and how much you think she'll appreciate them. Over the years, you've made sure to note her favorite ones; that came in handy tonight, and the florist assisting you definitely appreciated your attention to detail.

Too chicken to go to her first, you decide to bring the other girls their gifts now and save Rosie for last. All of them are unwinding independently in their dressing rooms right now, enjoying some much needed alone time before coming back together later to celebrate.

"Jisoo-yah!" You sing-song, rapping lightly on the door. It's slightly ajar, but you still knock out of respect for her privacy.

In an instant, the door swings open to reveal a very happy unnie. "Y/N! I've missed you!" She nearly shouts, pulling you in for an eager hug. A surprised noise leaves her lips as her hands come in contact with the bundle behind your back, crinkling the plastic slightly in her excited state.

"I got you a present," you say, smiling softly. Jisoo can feel the way your cheeks raise up, brushing against the skin of her neck as your head rests there, and her heart melts. After pulling out of the embrace, she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

"Well? Let me see!" You do as she asks with a chuckle, pulling her bunch out of the hold of the rubber band that's keeping them all together. "I got your favorite." You grin, sticking them out for her to see. Her eyes widen at the sight, and she's touched by the kind gesture. Flowers aren't particularly unique in terms of what companies and fans send them, but seeing the effort you put in makes it incredibly special. She couldn't be happier.

"Y/N, you're the best." She presses a small kiss to your cheek as a thank you, and invites you in right after. Jisoo considers you to be one of the closest friends she has, so being apart hasn't been easy on her. You're the only person she's okay with venting and crying in front of, and she's been needing that lately. Sensing this, you pull a chair up to her vanity and let her fill you in on all the mayhem you missed out on during your time away, holding her hand for reassurance. When she gets a little frustrated, you rub her back gently, telling her to take her time.

Jisoo is beyond thankful for you, and that becomes more and more apparent the closer you two get. Times like these hold a special place in her heart and remind her of why she loves you so much. You truly are a great friend to have, and there's no one she'd rather have in her corner.

----

"Incoming! 3...2...1…" You call out, standing in front of Lisa's door, ready to knock it down and barge in. The greeting is an inside joke between the two of you, though neither of you know where its origins lie.

"Yah! Hold on!" She shouts, nearly tripping and falling from how quick she rushes to the door. You laugh at the sounds of chaos coming from inside, wincing slightly when a thud rings out. Hair slightly disheveled, she opens the door with a huff. "This had better be good, because I almost died."

Wordlessly, you reveal her present and smirk as the halfhearted scowl on her face disappears completely, giving way to a dopey grin. "You remembered?" She asks quietly, running her fingers over the petals of her all-time favorite flower. The fact that she sounds so shocked makes you sad -- not many people take enough time to notice the little things. They'd rather focus on profiting off of the girls' talents than actually caring enough to get to know them.

"Of course I did, Lisa. You're one of my best friends; how could I forget?" The maknae pulls you in for a meaningful hug, allowing the gesture to tell you all the things she doesn't know how to express. She's not always the best with her words, but she makes up for it with her actions.

"I really love you, dork. You know that?" She asks as she pulls away, ruffling your hair lightly. She cracks that smile that seems to make the world stop, and you just shake your head.

"You'd better. Your flowers were the most expensive!" You tease, dodging her when she reaches out to grab you for that one.

"Get back here!" She shouts, chasing you down the hall like a 5 year old, planning to get her revenge.

---

"Jendeukie, open up!" You squeal, pounding on her door while throwing a look over your shoulder. Lisa is dangerously close, ready to tackle you as she continues charging down the hall.

"Y/N?!" She exclaims from the other side of the door, clearly not expecting you to be here.

"Hurry!" You can hear footsteps eagerly rushing towards the door, and just as she opens it, disaster strikes.

Lisa's arms wrap around your waist, pushing you forward and right into Jennie. The three of you fall into her dressing room in a messy heap, limbs splayed in various positions as you yell together on the way down. You manage to keep the flowers out of harm's way, thankfully, and your arm remains stuck out just in case Lisa tries anything else.

"Hello to you, too, Y/N." Jennie groans with a chuckle, the words coming out a little strained from all the weight on her. Lisa stands first, pulling you up right after, and you turn to help your best friend up as well.

"I sure know how to make an entrance, huh?" Your lopsided grin makes Jennie weak in the knees, much like it has ever since she met you all those years ago, and she has to fight to contain the blush that rises to her cheeks. After bantering with Lisa for a few more moments you eventually push her out of the room, shoo-ing her back to her own in order to give yourself some one-on-one time with Jennie.

You stick your tongue out at the maknae one final time before shutting the door and turning around, finding a very soft looking Jennie peering back at you. Her cheeks are pulled back in her signature gummy smile, and the fluffy sleeves of her Chanel sweater engulf her small hands as she cradles her face in them.

Perhaps, if circumstances were different, you'd be hopelessly pining for this 5'4" angel instead of Rosé. Love knows no logic, though, and you're stuck chasing after a certain Australian beauty that never seems capable of giving you the time of day.

"I missed you," she pouts, pursing her lips adorably as she steps forward to wrap her arms around your shoulders. You pull her in and pick her up with a spin, smiling into her neck when she giggles in your ear.

"Well, I'm here now. And luckily for you…." you start, allowing for some anticipation to build, "I come bearing gifts. Well, a gift. Singular." Jennie chuckles at your rambling -- it's one of the traits she finds most endearing about you, and she always hates it when people cut you down for it. It's adorable in every way.

"Oh?" She asks, intrigued as she raises an eyebrow -- she's keeping the act up for you, of course, too fond of the cute smile on your face to tell you that she already knows what it is. You hand over the flowers with a little jig, too excited by how happy she looks to contain yourself.

"They're beautiful, Y/N." She stops herself from adding a, "just like you," to the end of the phrase, wishing she was able to say things like that. You deserve to be reminded of how special you are everyday, and she knows her bandmate fails to do so.

"So, what've you been up to?" You amble over to the couch that's tucked away in the corner of her dressing room, plopping down onto the cushions with a small bounce. Rosé's flowers lay beside you, and Jennie eyes them.

"Same old, same old," she says, finally looking back at you with a tiny grin. "Practice for the comeback has kept us really busy lately, and somebody hasn't been there to tell us jokes at 3AM and keep us going." She playfully rolls her eyes, pretending to be annoyed.

"My most sincere apologies," you hold a hand over your heart in mock regret, bowing your head with closed eyes. "On the bright side, though, I'm back in town for next month or two. I finished the business deals we had to handle abroad, so now I'm all yours."

She knows you didn't mean hers, but that doesn't stop her from pretending.

A happy noise of approval slips past her lips, and she claps excitedly. The sight reminds you of some of the childhood videos she's shown you, the two looking eerily similar to one another. No matter what may happen in her life, Jennie will most certainly remain that innocent young girl at heart, getting scared by everything that moves and loving with her all. She's an amazing person to know, and part of you feels sorry for everyone who'll never get the privilege of knowing her personally -- after all, everyone deserves a Jennie Kim in their lives.

"Are you celebrating with us later?" She asks from in front of her mirror, now brushing her hair to busy herself. She runs the risk of making her feelings too obvious if she doesn't keep herself occupied.

"I was planning to, yes. But that might depend on Rosé." You inform with a nervous chuckle, an anxious smile playing on your lips. When you look up and find her brows furrowed, you elaborate.

"I'm gonna try to ask her out today when I bring her these flowers." You lightly chew your bottom lip out of habit, rubbing your hands together. The mere thought of such a task is daunting, especially with your not-so-perfect track record when it comes to her. You still try to cling to what little hope you have squirreled away in your heart, wishing with all your power that your sweet present will convince Rosé to at least give you a chance.

Distracted by your thoughts, you don't notice the way that Jennie's face falls. Her heart is breaking in silence, splintering into pieces far too small to put back together. She knew this day would come eventually, given that you're a determined person and head over heels for Rosé, but that doesn't mean she was prepared to find out like this. The lovesick glimmer in your eye hurts Jennie even more, knowing that you're probably imagining what it would be like for her to say yes to you. This whole time, Rosé has been stringing you along -- giving you just enough hope to keep coming back to her, using your devoted acts of kindness selfishly -- and Jennie would do anything to make you see that. You don't deserve what she puts you through.

"...Earth to Jennie!"

The brunette snaps back to reality and clears her throat, attempting to gather her thoughts again.

"Sorry, just got lost there for a second." She says, looking back into your eyes after a moment. A curious look plays in them, and she can practically see you debating on whether or not to question her further. She lets out a quiet sigh of relief when you accept her answer, choosing instead to smile at her.

"It's alright. But what's not alright, is that I've been sitting here for 5 minutes and you haven't come over to cuddle me. I mean seriously, a girl's gone for forever and her best friend doesn't bombard her with love?" You shake your head with an amused smile, throwing your hands in the air.

Oh, the things she would do to change that title.

Successfully suppressing the pang of longing that runs through her, Jennie quips back, "A month and a half is hardly forever, Y/N."

"It felt like it, though. I missed seeing you."

She finds you pouting, your arms folded across your chest like a toddler, and her heart melts. Any amount of time without you is too long for Jennie's liking, and she's happy to know you missed her as well.

"Fine, I guess I can spare some cuddles." She pretends to be put out as she approaches you, really playing the part by huffing and looking uninterested. Inside, though, she's celebrating. She can't wait to hold you close again, even if it may lead to her hurting herself with the what-ifs and scenarios that play in her mind.

"Yay!" You shout, pulling her into your lap before laying your head on her shoulder. Her heart beats rapidly at the proximity, and she prays to every higher power in existence that you don't notice it.

She relaxes after a moment, releasing the tension from her muscles as she sinks into your embrace. It's warm and comforting, and she never wants you to let go. Her head rests on top of yours, and she's content just running her hands through your hair, feeling your calm breaths against her skin.

She's so in love it hurts.

-----

This'll convince her, you whisper to yourself, attempting to sound confident -- key word: attempting. If there's one thing you know about Rosé, it's that she loves to be difficult with you. You caught feelings for her years ago when you were first introduced to each other at a company event, and ever since then you've done nice things for her nonstop, hoping that she'd fall for you with time. The longer you wait, though, the more discouraged you get. Regardless, those times that she appreciates your efforts make up for all the rest, and you'd gladly take 100 instances of the "bad" in order to have even just one of the "good".

After taking a deep breath, you knock on the door a couple times.

A sigh can be heard, sounding like a complete 180 from the reactions of the other girls. The subsequent footsteps are heavy -- like she's dragging her feet, not even wanting to get up in the first place -- and they work to dishearten you a bit. Nevertheless, you imagine how happy she'll be when she sees the surprise, and a small smile makes its ways onto your lips. All you want to do is brighten her day, if only for a moment.

An indifferent expression rests on her face when she first opens the door, likely expecting someone else to be standing in your place. Not much changes when she realizes it's you, though a sliver of a smile does quirk up at the corner of her lips.

"Hiya Rosie," you greet sweetly, unable to contain how wide your smile grows at seeing her again. She makes you feel like a giddy school girl, and you can't decide if you love it or hate it.

"What's up?" She asks, more out of common courtesy than anything else. Her body leans against the doorframe, her left arm resting behind the door. She didn't throw it open or invite you in like the other girls, so that tells you that she probably doesn't want visitors.

When you take too long to answer, she asks dryly, "Are you just gonna stare at me?" Her voice is laced with a slight undertone of annoyance -- one that makes you shrink down a bit. You can practically hear how exhausted she is, and part of you feels bad for disturbing her with your presence.

"N-no, sorry." You curse yourself for looking like a fool. "I got you something that I think you'll enjoy." Her eyebrows raise slightly and you can tell she's intrigued, even if she may try to deny it.

"Here." You declare, nervously fixing the plastic as you hold the bundle in front of you. You want it to look perfect for her.

"I, uh, hand picked it."

"Thank you, it's lovely." She says politely, taking them from you and bringing them up to her nose. She admires the gentle, pleasant scent of them, and smiles appreciatively at you.

You blush under her gaze, slightly tripping over your words as you respond, "Of course, I'm glad you like it."

Now, the part you dread: when the conversation dwindles down, threatening to end entirely unless you step up to keep it going.

"Well, how've you been?" You cringe at the overused question, but you're willing to employ it in order to hear her sweet voice for a little longer.

"Look, Y/N, I really appreciate the gift and all, and I'm really happy to see you again, but I don't feel like talking right now. I just want to enjoy myself for a little bit." Her denial makes you scrunch your face up, embarrassed beyond belief as her words sink in. You should've known that flowers wouldn't suffice. Perhaps that last line stung the most -- you try not to read too far into it, but the idea that she doesn't enjoy herself when talking to you nags at your heart.

"Yeah, yeah. For sure." You scratch the back of your neck, awkwardly taking a step away from her door and back into the hallway.

"I'll see you at the get together later though, right?" You ask, kicking yourself when you realize how hopeful you sounded. You have to get better at hiding it.

"Sure," she nods, sending you a smile and little wave before saying goodbye and shutting the door.

Well, that was a bust. Damn. Back to the drawing board, it is -- though your ego will need a few hours to recover.

---

"Lisa, I swear to god, if you come near me with that I'll punt you across this room."

Your very serious, totally-not-exaggerated warning evidently worked against you, because the maknae soon raises her head to look at you, grinning like a maniac. Frosting from the cake she just messily cut into covers her hands, looking threatening as she wiggles them at you.

"I mean in!" You shout as a last resort, slowly backing away. You accidently bump into Jennie in the process, but you fail to realize that it was part of the plan all along: she and Lisa are in cahoots. When the maknae lunges, swiftly striding across the room towards you, you attempt to move out of her path and get somewhere safer. Steady hands on your waist keep you anchored in place, though, and you try to fight them.

"Jennie?! Let me go, she's right there!" You squeal, trying to pry her fingers off of your hips one by one. She merely laughs, whispering a sorry into your ear right before Lisa's hands run across your cheeks and neck. You squirm, leaning further back against Jennie to evade the younger girl as she does her worst.

Now, practically having a face mask of frosting, you step away from the girls and glare at them.

"Bullies, I tell you." You say to Jisoo, groaning when she busts out laughing. It doesn't take a genius to know that you look a mess, and you'd probably laugh at yourself if the roles were reversed. The others soon join in, and a chorus of belly laughs fill the air around you.

"Go ahead, laugh it up," you tell the girls, nodding your head, "Just wait til I get my revenge. I'm coming for you, Manoban." You point a finger at her as you exit the room, grinning when you hear the oooo's that they let out at your threat, and you make your way to the bathroom at the end of the long hallway before you.

On your way back, you hear Rosé's voice filtering in from one of the lounge rooms that branch off of the main corridor. Intrigued, you stop walking and listen in.

Big mistake.

Your ears perk up when you hear your name roll off her tongue, though her subsequent sentences crush your spirits.

"...I know, right? She's honestly so annoying. Like earlier, I was finally getting cozy after our performance and then she just showed up."

Too shocked to leave now, you stay where you are and try not to let her words hurt you too much. She listens to the person on the other end of the line, laughing at something they said. That sound -- one you’ve grown to love more than anything else in the world -- is turning into something you hate. It feels like she's laughing at you; which, in hindsight, she probably is.

"Exactly! She had flowers for me, as if I don't get those almost everyday already, and I guess she really thought that that would win me over. It was sweet but, c'mon, you know?"

Every insecurity you have is nagging at you, and you can't stop the few tears that roll down your cheeks at her brutal honesty. She's really hurting your feelings, and you can't help but want to call her out for it. So, you do just that: you step into the open room, one that lacks an actual door, and say, "Next time you wanna talk shit about someone, maybe you should make sure they're not around to hear it."

Her smile falters slightly, and she spins around to face you. A hint of guilt plays on her features, but you're sure it's only because she got caught -- she definitely meant everything she said.

"Y/N--"

You don't stick around to listen to what she has to say. Her change of behavior surprised you, and you can't trust that she's even sorry for it.

Your pace quickens as you hear her voice become clearer -- she's in the doorway now, calling after you, but you don't even turn around. The salt of your tears greets your tongue, and you're once again reminded to wipe your face as you rush down the hall, rounding a couple corners and darting past countless doors on your way. You just want to get out of this place and be alone.

A new voice slows your strides as it greets your ears, feeling like a security blanket in its gentleness. It's Jennie. "Y/N? Why are you crying?" She came to look for you when you took too long to return from the bathroom.

You're far too embarrassed to look at her, so you simply sniffle and raise a hand up in her direction. "Don't worry about me, Jen. It's not important."

"Hey, yes it is. You're upset and that matters." She steps towards you, saying the words that you had no idea you needed to hear so badly. Your heart aches, still shocked by the fact that Rosé would say such things about you. You thought you were friends, if nothing else, and yet that's never felt further from the truth than it does right now.

When you don't move away, Jennie takes that as a sign to bring you into her arms, cradling your head against her chest. The kind act hurts your heart more for some reason, and you want to pull away. Jennie senses this and decides to rub soothing circles on your back, her warm embrace comforting you as she says, "I don't know what happened, Y/N, but I'm right here. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, either, but please don't leave like this. I hate to see you upset."

Something about the way she's holding you, so close and tenderly, is comforting beyond belief and you can't find the desire to leave anymore.

"Can we at least go to your dressing room? I don't want everyone to see me like this."

"Of course, sweetheart. Come on."

Sweet phrases of reassurance are whispered to you as she leads you away, keeping you safe from prying eyes the entire time. Jisoo appears in the doorway of the party room, raising a concerned brow when she sees the two of you approaching. Jennie shakes her head at the unnie before she can utter a word, giving her a silent answer as she uses her eyes to communicate what's happening. Jisoo eventually understands, and she offers a sympathetic nod when you pass by.

-------

7 Months Later

"Hey Jennie, do you think you can go answer the door? I'd do it myself, but…" Jisoo trails off, glancing down at the bowl of partially mixed dough that sits in front of her on the counter. Her hands continue to knead the mixture as she looks up at the younger girl, subtly sighing in relief when she agrees.

There's more than one reason behind having Jennie be the one to answer it.

The brunette grabs a pen as she pads her way over to the door, ready to sign for a delivery package -- that's usually the only thing they get at the dorm, considering guests are discouraged for the most part. Screw YG and their rules.

Being a bit clumsy, Jennie accidently knocks her phone out of her own hand as she opens the door, muttering out a quiet “shit” as she bends down to retrieve it. Her eyes trail over to the stylish boots that set just a few feet away, and her breath hitches.

"Hi baby." You greet with that healing smile that she's missed so much, peering down at her with a look in your eye that makes her heart trip and stumble over itself.

"Y/N!" She shrieks, jumping up from the ground and right into your arms.

"Uumph--" you let out in surprise, making sure to catch her and prevent her from falling. Ever since you two began dating a few months ago, leaving has become harder and harder. Jennie is beyond thrilled to have you back again, and she tries not to think about the next business trip you'll have to take. It's a methodical rhythm -- a month or two abroad and the same amount back home, then you're left to repeat the cycle over and over. Both of you hate it, and you'd much rather spend all your time with her instead. After all, ever since the incident with Rosé all that time ago, Jennie has steadily worked her way into your heart and become someone you can't live without. You were close before, but you've reached a new level now -- and that's about the only thing you can thank Rosé for. By hurting you and showing you how little she cared, she effectively pushed you right into Jennie's waiting arms.

"I'm so happy you're home." She says with a sigh, truly grateful to have you in her arms again. You wrap your arms tighter around her waist and sway a little bit, both of you content with just holding each other for a while longer. The weather outside is dazzlingly perfect; signs of summer apparent in everything around you. Birds chirp their looping songs as they fly through the air, feeling the sun's gentle heat on their wings all the while.

You move your head enough to be level with hers, bringing her in for a long-overdue kiss. She smiles into it, cupping your cheek with one of her hands as she languidly moves to deepen it.

Rosé should've stayed in her room. She should've ignored her stomach's incessant grumbling for a snack; but she didn't.

She gave in, and now she's stuck, rooted in place as she watches Jennie kiss you, the one that got away. It's like watching a train wreck: she can't look away, and part of her psyche knows she deserves this. The apple in her hands is the only thing working to distract her, and she grips it tightly within her clutch to comfort herself. You look good -- so good -- and Rosé doesn't know whether to be happy or not. She knows she didn't treat you right -- then or ever -- but for some selfish reason that she doesn't dare give voice to, she wants you to still be hurting. She wants you to be suffering like she is now, crying into your pillowcase at night when she crosses your mind. She wants you to miss the good times, though there may not have been enough of them, and she wants you to want her again.

You've turned the tables on her, and she doesn't know how to cope.

She realized what she had once it was gone -- once you were gone, too busy falling in love with Jennie to pay her any mind anymore. She misses how devoted you were to her and how much care you put into everything you did; she misses the consistency that you offered; she misses every sweet thing you ever did for her. Hell, she even misses hearing you ramble and seeing you blush when all she did was smile at you.

But you're gone now, destined to be with her member when all she wants is another chance. She'll never get it, certainly not after everything she's put you through, and she resents herself for treating you so badly. All you ever did was care, and she was too self-centered to give a crap.

She deserves this. She deserves to see you happy with Jennie, happy in a way she could never make you. For you, she deserves to hurt; to silently cry in her room when she hears the two of you on call, laughing about whatever new thing you experienced that day. Because it wasn't just the one instance of pain she inflicted on you; it wasn't just that one night at the performance hall -- it was a steady build up of rejection and half-assed excuses, and even she can't blame you for getting tired of it. She wishes she hadn't been so stupid to deny you.

What's worse is that she's actually fallen for you now; she imagines what could've been, what would've been, had she given you an honest chance. She's never tried to deny how gorgeous you are -- that's a given -- but now you're bruisingly beautiful, shining with the happiness that Jennie's worked hard to instill in you again. Shining with the love you hold for that 5'4" angel.

Maybe, if circumstances were different, you'd be in Rosé's arms right now. Perhaps in another life.

---

"Do you want to come in? Jisoo's working on some dessert for the lunch we just made. We can heat you up a plate in the meantime…" Jennie trails off, hoping to persuade you. She knows it's risky, considering the tension that feels almost tangible anytime the three of you are together, but she doesn't want to let you go so soon.

"I don't know…" The uncertainty in your voice is clear, and Jennie watches as a slight grimace crosses your features when you look past her and into the dorm. Luckily Rosé had already found the will power to move to the dining room, so you're spared from seeing her just yet.

"If things get weird or uncomfy we'll leave, okay? I promise." She says, knowing she's convinced you once you give her a little nod.

"Okay. But I'm only doing this because I missed Jisoo's cooking." A playful glint shimmers in your eye as you quirk your head to the side, teasing her.

"Hey!" She groans, pushing your shoulder as the two of you walk down the little concrete path that leads to the front door. "I'm kidding! I missed Lisa's jokes, too."

You laugh at the gasp she lets out, and you make sure to turn around and press a kiss to her temple to stop her from pouting.

"So, Y/N, where did you go this time?" Jisoo asks, leaning against the marble island of the kitchen as she pops a piece of tanghulu in her mouth. The crack of the sugary coating pulls your attention away from Rosé, where it had momentarily been -- she looks awful. Bags rest underneath her eyes, her normally vibrant features crestfallen now as her gaze scans across the food on her plate.

You look at Jisoo as you answer her. "The states. We worked with some local companies and small businesses to get more promotional material out in front of people. It's actually pretty amazing, guys -- you're blowing up over there. They love you." The girls smile at your words, feeling a sense of accomplishment swell within themselves. Back when they were trainees they never imagined that they'd end up this far, and yet here they are, seeing their dreams come true, day after day.

You're just happy to be along for the ride. It's not easy by any means -- people often crack under the pressure and get discouraged by the hustle and bustle of everything that such a major operation entails -- but you've never been more thankful for a position in your life.

"As they should," Lisa smirks, looking self-assured with the little cocky motion she does. You almost choke on the piece of food you just stuffed in your mouth, laughing at how ridiculous she looks.

After successfully not dying, you look at her and shake your head. "Lisa, what is wrong with you?" She puts on her infamous meme face, pretending to be shocked by your question, and you cackle again. The sound makes Rosé jealous; she wishes she were the one making you laugh like that.

Another hour or so passes with the 5 of you just relaxing and snacking together at the table, taking turns trading stories and jokes in the meantime. After finishing your dessert and complimenting the unnie's cooking skills, you make your way towards the kitchen with a groan of, "I'm so full" thrown over your shoulder.

You begin washing the dishes, finding it only fitting seeing as they spent all that time preparing such a good meal. It's the least you can do. A smile tugs at your cheeks when you hear the door open, followed by light footfalls against the hardwood. Jennie.

Warm arms snake around your waist as she hugs you from behind, resting her cheek against your back. Your brows furrow when you notice an unusual thing -- either Jennie grew a few inches in the last 5 minutes, or someone else is holding you. Their cheek reaches a place Jennie isn't tall enough to, and it all hits you.

It's Rosé.

You go to shut the water off and step away, but the sounds of her quiet sniffles give you pause. "Please don't." She whispers into your shirt, bunching the material up within her fingers against your stomach. A pang of sadness pulls against your heart strings, the long forgotten feeling reignited by the waver in her voice. "Rosé," you start with a sigh, ready to launch into the practiced speech of how happy you are with Jennie now and how you've moved on. She tugs at your shirt, slowly turning you around, and you can't find it in yourself to break her heart even further in this moment. Her eyes are filled with what tears have yet to stream down her face, brimming with the salty liquid you hate to see.

Even after everything, you can't stand to see her cry.

So, perhaps stupidly, you allow her to lean forward and rest her head against your chest; you let her fall into your arms, sinking into the embrace she never intended to miss so much.

It was innocent. Completely, utterly innocent, but Rosé couldn't stop herself -- not when you were there again, right in front of her, looking so good it hurt. She wrapped her arms around your neck, pushing her lips against yours in a kiss you weren't prepared for at all. Her mouth moved quickly against yours, knowing you'd be shoving her away at any moment. But she was okay with being selfish again -- she needed you then, and you allowed her to keep kissing you until you realized what was happening.

As you go to stumble away and put distance between the two of you, the door once again opens; only this time, it's actually Jennie. Her eyes immediately dart between the two of you as she notices how Rosie's hands are still holding you close, both of your lips swollen from the kiss. All at once you realize how the situation must look, and you begin panicking. You knew this was a bad idea from the start.

"Jennie, no. I promise this isn't what you think." You shake your head, finally freeing yourself of Rosé's grip as you take a couple steps towards your girlfriend. She takes an equal amount back, scoffing lightly at the memory of the scene she just witnessed.

"Yeah, okay," she says, sounding anything but convinced as she makes her way towards the door. You go after her, but she holds a hand up -- after knowing her for so long, you've learned that that signal means to give her some time alone. Both of you know you'll go after her again later, but she needs some time right now. As she leaves the dorm, the heavy sound of the door shutting is the only noise that cuts through the palpable tension.

"How could you do that?" You ask, voice small, not even turning around to look at Rosé. You doubt that she's even sorry.

She isn't sorry. At least, not for kissing you. It felt good to have you like that, and she doesn't regret it. However, from what angle of your face your side profile offers to her, she can see how upset you are. That's what makes her feel the slightest bit guilty for her timing.

"I spent so much time trying to get you to notice me, and now you choose to do that? You're unbelievable, Roseanne-- I'm finally happy, and what, you want to ruin that?” She takes the blows as they come, staying quiet. “If you've ever cared about me at all then you'll stay away." You set your jaw, willing the tears to go away. You've wasted too many on her, and you'll be damned to look weak right now.

"Y/N, I-"

"No. Don't apologize when we both know you don't mean it. You've always been selfish, Rosé." You bite back, not caring if the words cut her down like her old ones always used to do to you. Earlier, before her little stunt, you were starting to feel sorry for her; clearly though, that was yet another mistake on your part.

You leave without another word, praying that she doesn't further complicate the situation by following after you. Jennie is the only thing on your mind as you hop in your car, having an idea of where she might be.

"Jennie, no. I promise this isn't what you think."

Your worried voice replays in her mind for the millionth time, further tormenting her. She's been cheated on before, so that phrase isn't a new thing to her.

She was always afraid this would happen. She used to lay awake at night, overthinking as usual, wondering when the beautiful thing the two of you created would ultimately come crashing down. It was too good to be true, and she curses herself for foolishly believing any different.

The better part of an hour passes by as she sits on the park bench, reminiscing on all the memories you've made here. The idea of ending things with you and starting over with someone else sinks in, and she hates the feeling. She only wants you -- she's only ever wanted you -- and the thought that things could really be over now hurts her more than she cares to admit.

Your eyes scan across the park, ghosting over the playground equipment until they zero in on her, sitting near the fountain that you shared your first kiss. Such a sap, you smile bittersweetly.

You ruffle through the plastic bag that sits in the passenger's seat, moving the receipt out of the way so that you can pick up what you're really after. Returning your hands to the steering wheel, you grip it while giving yourself a little pep talk before exiting the car. You press a kiss to the present in your hand for good luck, hoping this encounter will go well.

Water spouts from the top of the fountain, the sound growing louder the closer you get to Jennie. Her back is turned to you, and for that you're thankful -- you're not quite prepared to see how she'll be looking at you. Now just a few feet away, you say, "Marry me."

You’ll do whatever it takes to show her how crazy you are about her.

Her head whips around, completely taken aback by your proposal. She thinks that there's no way you're serious, but when she looks down to find her favorite flavor of ring pop in your hand, her eyes widen. You're sick of wasting time, and seeing that she hasn't yelled at you or turned you away yet, you take advantage of the situation.

"Marry me, Jennie," you repeat, taking small, careful steps towards her until you're right next to the bench. "She kissed me, but I tried to push her away. I told her that you're the only one for me."

She blinks, taking in your words as she notices you nervously toy with the plastic wrapper of the candy. She knows you're telling the truth; you're a terrible liar, and you wouldn't be here right now if you didn't want her back. If you wanted to choose Rosé over her, you had the perfect opportunity to do so back at the dorm.

But you don't; you want Jennie, and now you're standing in the middle of your favorite park, proposing with a piece of candy to prove that to her. The things you do for love.

"It just scared me, Y/N. Seeing her wrapped around you like that--"

"I know, baby. I know. But I promise I didn't want it, and it meant nothing to me. I'm so in love with you, Jennie Kim."

She smiles at the dopey grin on your face, seeing how smitten you are.

"Okay," she answers back, yet again looking at your hands.

"Is that a yes?" You ask, slowly beginning to tear open the wrapper.

"Yes, dummy. I'll marry you." She declares, nodding her head with a laugh at how slow you are sometimes.

"Yay!" You shout, stepping forward to pick her up in your arms. You set her back down with a smile, slipping the ring onto her finger as your heart soars.

Jennie kisses you, letting the action convey all the emotions she's been through in the past few hours. "I love you." She sighs, resting her forehead against yours.

"I'd surely hope so, jagi," you smirk against her lips, giggling at the squeal she lets out when you playfully pinch her side. Her kisses are replacing all traces of Rosé, and she's comforted by the fact that you'll so adamantly choose her, everyday.

With a smile, Jennie realizes something: never again will she be forced to dream of having you in another life -- her wishes came true, and now she'll have you in this one, always.

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revoutionsingingintherain · 3 years

Text

Father's Day - Malec

i couldn't stop thinking about how Rafael and Max would celebrate Fathers' day, because i never got to celebrate father's day with my dad, but anyways.

Alec and Magnus would probably wake up to Rafe and Max screaming at each other from the kitchen

"Rafe, we have perfectly good knives!"

"They're not good knives, Max! It won't cut the stupid fruit! That's why I'm using my seraph blade - the next sharpest thing I have!"

"It's a seraph blade!"

"It cuts the damn fruit!"

Magnus and Alec would laugh, and lazily pull each other out of bed. Magnus, still sleepy, leans on Alec as they walk out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where the brothers were fighting

The boys notice their fathers in the doorway, and stop fighting, and look at them guiltily because they really did make a mess of the kitchen

"What were you boys doing?"

"We were trying to make you breakfast without magic"

"And Aunt Izzy gave us some tips,"

"Is that why you're using your seraph blade to cut a pineapple?"

"Oh shut up!"

They decide that they'll just have a brunch at some mundane restaurant, because none of the Lightwood-Banes can cook a decent meal that isn't instant noodles or canned soup

Alec finds a card with their mail that says "Happy Father's Day, Alec. Your first son, Jace"

Alec laughs so hard, and then calls Jace to thank him

They go for brunch at a mundane restaurant down the street, where they have waffles with whipped cream and cherry on top, and pancakes filled with nutella, and so much more.

They order food for six people, when there's only four of them, because Alec and Rafael's stomachs are like an endless pit.

They laugh and joke around, and complain when Magnus and Alec kiss

"Ugh, dad! We don't need to see that!"

"Honestly, bapa! please stop!"

They don't stop till they can't stop laughing. They love teasing their sons like that.

Magnus and Max take A LOT of pictures, and Rafe and Alec make funny faces.

Rafael pays for the meal, because technically he is almost an adult, and Max is a teenager and they get some money from their parents. But Max spends all of his money on useless things like Magnus does, and Rafe, being a smart guy, keeps most of the money aside, and spends really less. Currently, he's the richest amongst the four of them.

They walk around Brooklyn aimlessly, just roaming around. the boys say they know where they're going, but Alec and Magnus aren't sure if they really do.

They end up in a fair, with all bright and colorful rides and games, with screaming and laughing families.

"Ta - da!"

"Did you guys really know we were coming here, or was itjust luck that we stumbled here?"

"Bapa, you need to have more faith in us,"

"Says the boy who used his seraph blade to cut a pineapple."

"Oh, come on! Am I ever going to stop hearing about it?"

"Nah. I'll tell your future girlfriend to not let you in the kitchen."

"MAX MICHEAL LIGHTWOOD-BANE, YOU STAY AWAY FROM ANY OF MY FUTURE GIRLFRIENDS!!"

That makes Max and Rafael start a competition of who can win their dads a bigger prize. The teams are Max and Alec and Rafael and Magnus.

They start with a game where they shoot balloons using guns. Rafael cheats by using his accuracy runes. Alec sees this and whispers to Max to use a little bit of magic.

"You cheated!"

"I cheated??"

"Yes! You used magic!"

"You used your accuracy rune!"

"You don't know that!"

"Your stele is right there, Rafael!"

Alec and Magnus move away and let them fight. they find a cotton candy stall and buy four for each of them, each of different flavors.

Rafe and Max have a fluffy unicorn and a fluffy octopus in their arms when they find their dads. Max hands the unicorn to Alec, who gives him a blueberry flavored cotton candy, and Rafe gives Magnus the octopus, who gives him a chocolate cotton candy (it did not taste as good as expected)

They took a bunch of pictures and sent them to the rest of their family

Max pulls them to sit on all kinds of fast moving rides, and they throw their hands in the air and laugh at each other

Magnus did not like the ride where they did the loop - to - loop in the air way too many times

They find a photo booth, and click a lot of pictures! Silly faces, smiling faces, every kind of face they can think of. And then they select their favorites and keep the single photos for themselves.

They buy pizza, and while eating, Alec gets an alert of a demon four blocks from where they are.

After all, no day is complete without a demon attack.

They leave their pizza, and go to kill the demon. It's a Drevak demon, which means more work. UGH.

They fight gracefully together. They're family, they know each other's moves well.

Alec and Rafael search for the queen Drevak, while Magnus and Max blast them off as much as they can.

It takes really long for Alec and Rafe to find the queen, because she's really well hidden, which means that Magnus and Max are getting tired soon.

They finally find the queen, and Alec distracts the queen, while Rafael comes out of no where and kills her.

By the time Alec and Rafael go back to Magnus and Max, they're exhausted. There were way too many of them, coming all at once.

The family go back home, because the demons are taken care of, and the warlocks of the family need to rest.

They change into sweatpants and loose t-shirts, and gather together on the couch. They order chinese, and do a Star Wars marathon, because it's Rafe's turn to choose and as much as he finds the loopholes annoying, he still thinks they're some of the best.

Only Rafe and Max are paying attention to the movies. Alec and Magnus are cuddling, and they're talking quietly about anything that comes to their mind.

In between their quiet discussions, Rafe and Max whisper a happy father's day to their dads.

"Happy fathers' day, dad and bapa,"

"Happy fathers' day, bapa. Happy fathers' day, dad,"

"Thank you, my loves."

"Thank you."

Magnus is half asleep, but he still pulls away from Alec and kisses both his sons on the forehead

Max smiles, and Rafael tries to hide his smile, but it's too late, everybody has already seen it

Magnus falls back on Alec's chest, before Alec can do anything else. But Alec smiles at both of his sons, and squeezes their hands.

Just before Magnus falls asleep, Alec wishes him as well.

"Happy father's day, Magnus. I love you."

"Happy father's day, Alexander. I love you too."

Magnus falls asleep against Alec's chest. and Max falls asleep, with his head on Magnus' lap and his feet on Rafael's lap.

Alec carries Magnus to their bed, and covers him with a blanket. Rafael carries Max to his bed, grumbling about how heavy he is, and he really needs to lose weight. Alec laughs softly.

While Rafe is busy putting Max to bed, Alec stands in the balcony. he softly whispers a happy father's day to his father.

"Dad? You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Do you miss grandpa? I didn't know him well."

"Sometimes, I do miss him,"

Alec tells Rafael about Robert Lightwood. He tells his son all about how Robert made mistakes, how he did not accept Alec completely for his sexuality, how he always seemed to prefer Jace over him. Alec tells Rafael about how Robert tired to fix his mistakes, and make amends with him and Magnus, how he told Alec that he was proud of him and loved him just as much as the rest of his siblings.

Rafael doesn't point it out, but Alec lets out a few tears. Rafael just hugs his father, and whispers a good night to him, knowing his father needs to be alone for a while, just to get himself together.

Alec stays out in the balcony for a few more minutes, before he checks the entire house, making sure everything is locked. He checks Max and Rafe's rooms where they're both asleep, and presses a soft kiss on their foreheads, and makes sure that they're covered properly by their blanket so that they don't feel cold.

Magnus stands in the doorway of Max's room, where Alec is, and makes a pretty nightlight for him, because he knows that Max does not like the dark. He makes a small nightlight for Rafael as well, with a spell that will let Magnus and Alec know if he has a nightmare.

Alec and Magnus walk back to their bedroom, wrapped in each other's arms.

"What are you doing up?"

"You weren't there, so I couldn't sleep."

"Hmm, I'm sorry."

"Are you okay?"

"I - I just miss dad, sometimes."

"It's okay, Alexander. he loves you."

"Thank you. I love you."

"I love you too."

Just before he sleeps, Izzy sends him a picture of a framed picture of Robert who was laughing, with a candle in front of it, and four father's day cards in surrounding it - one that Alec had sent, one that Alec bought on behalf of Max Lightwood, one from Izzy, and one from Jace.

Alec sends a red heart to his sister, and then sends her pictures from the day. He changes his homescreen picture to one of the four of them, eating cotton candy.

Magnus tugs at Alec's hand softly, and pulls him to bed. They cuddle, like they have been for the past fourteen/fifteen years.

They're both happy with the life that they have now. Tt was one of the best days they've ever had.

and that's their fathers' day!

thank you for reading this!

#alexander lightwood #alec lightwood #magnus x alec #magnus bane #max lightwood bane #rafael lightwood bane #fathers day special #malec #lightwood-bane #isabelle lightwood #jace herondale #robert lightwood #tmi #the mortal instruments #shadowhunters

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hiddlesbummmm · 3 years

Text

Here is the sequel to Catch!! This was requested by a bunch of you, and I had soooo much fun piecing this together! Thank you for the brilliant idea💕☺️

Read part 1 here

Warnings: None, SFW Tickle Fic

Words: 2976 Lee Reader X Lers Steve/Bucky

Some Lee Peter X Lers Thor/Loki

Caught

It had been about a week since you and Peter attempted to prank the rest of the team. You both were a little jittery after your last encounter with some of them. Peter and you decided it would be best to think of a new prank to pull on the remaining members because you both needed time to let the situation air out a little and give you time to avoid a certain pair of super soldiers and Demigods.

You weren’t entirely sure how Peter was doing after his weakness was exploited, but you were not deterred in the slightest. If anything, this made you want to prank the team even more. You were known for having a stubborn side. Although, part of you knew you were going to regret resuming the pranks because mercy was not going to be in anybody’s vocabulary.

One reason you knew this for a fact was that every time you came in contact with one of your previous attackers, they would taunt you, tease you, or flat out just tickle you for no reason claiming that you were “ Thinking” of revenge.

One time you had walked into the kitchen to grab a quick snack, and Bucky was drinking coffee at the table. You gave him a little wave and went to grab a muffin. When you turned around, Bucky had put his coffee down, and was wiggling his fingers at you. This immediately caused you to blush, and you ran out of the kitchen as fast as you could.

Loki seemed to be the one who teased you the most. He was one of your closest friends and so you spent lots of time together. Loki liked to claim that you intentionally hid your ticklishness from him and it was his “ duty” to tickle you to make up for all your lies and deceit. (Eye roll) Luckily, he was kind enough to not murder you, but still.

You and Peter were playing on your switch alone in the common room. Currently, you were kicking his butt in Mario Kart. Once you had completed a few races, you paused the game. “ Peter, I think it’s time we finish our prank battle. I have the perfect idea for it too. It will even help us get revenge on the tickle monsters too.” Peter blushed when you mentioned the T-word, but didn’t hesitate to ask what your new diabolical plan was. He was a pretty sensitive kid and even though you didn't see what Steve and Bucky did to him, you sure heard his screams from down the hall.

Peter surprised you with his next question, as it was poised with some hesitation. “ Y/n, I want to continue this battle just so I can win two years in a row, but what do you think will happen to us if a few certain someones find out about it? Maybe we should stick with our original targets and hope for the best.” You pondered this for a moment before agreeing. If you only pranked the teammates on your original list, then the chances of the men finding out were slim. “ You are right Peter, let’s just prank our original targets and hope for the best. If we do get caught, you can blame me for pushing you into continuing”. Peter stuck his hand out for you to shake, sealing the deal.

Your new idea was to wake up extra early before the team woke up, and instead of throwing water balloons at them, you decided glitter bombs would be much funnier. Your teammates would probably be dazed and not see who was attacking them, so it was perfect. Once the final details were discussed, you resumed your Mario Kart competition with smiles and rosy cheeks excited for the following morning.

Little did you two know that Loki, Thor, Steve, and Bucky had a secret meeting amongst themselves as well. And this time, they weren’t alone. The four men had expected you two not to listen, so they waited for you and Peter to go do “ kid things” and then invited the rest of the team to the library knowing they could conspire a plan without you two walking in on them. Steve, being the captain and all, lead the meeting.

“Thank you all for gathering here today. We have a very important subject to discuss.” Steve motioned to Thor, Loki, and Bucky. “ ’m sure some of you are well aware of a certain duo running around rampant pranking their teammates. Some of us, even got hit with water balloons last week”. Sam spoke up when he heard this. “You people got hit too!? Man, those kids are gonna pay”. Everyone laughed. Steve spoke up again. “ And that’s why you are here today! We found these little pranksters and tickled them pretty good, but apparently not good enough. We overheard them getting ready to prank again. That’s where you come in. If these kids try to pull something on you, please let one of us know and we will make sure this is the last of it. Understood?” Everyone laughed at this and nodded in agreement.

Steve released everyone and headed out to the gym to exercise. Loki quickly caught up to Tony before he fully left the room.

“ Hey, Stark! Might I ask a favor from you?” Tony turned around and grinned at the God. “ No Loki, you cannot have your scepter back,” he teased. Loki just rolled his eyes.

“ I was wondering if by chance we could use your lab once we catch these unsuspecting mortals. I’ve heard it’s the perfect place to get people to behave.” Tony barked out a big laugh and rested his arm over Loki’s shoulder. “ Ya know, I’ve really come to like your way of thinking. Follow me, I got just the thing for these little squirts”. The two walked out of the library together headed toward their new destination.

***

The following morning you were awoken by a bright light shining throughout your room. It was Peter. “ Dude what the Fu—“ you were instantly shut up by Peter’s harsh Shhhing. “ Shhh! Your gonna wake the whole building! Let’s go! “ You groaned slightly and glanced at your clock. It read 3:10 am. There was no way anyone else would be awake at this hour. Perfect.

You slid on your slippers, grabbed your box of glitter bombs, and went in search of your next target.

You and Peter crept up to Wanda’s door. This was the perfect first stop because Wanda and Vision shared a room and you each had one or the other as a target. You gracefully opened the door and peered inside. As you expected, they both were sleeping peacefully. You and Peter each grabbed a balloon and tossed it on top of the bed. You had filled the balloons with water and glitter to make it even harder to clean up. The forceful landing caused them to explode on contact, and you and Peter quickly shut the door and raced down the hallway not wanting to see their reactions just in case they decided to chase after you two.

You both repeated this process until everyone on your list had been glitter bombed. Luckily, no one had ran after you so you were able to head back to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour. You gave Peter a hive five and retired back to your room. It was 3:30 am now which meant you could still get a few more hours of sleep. Once your head hit the pillow, you passed out.

****

You woke up after a few hours to a pair of very strong hands picking you up and throwing you over their shoulder. You were extremely groggy and could only make out a metal arm; It was Bucky.

“ What the hell Bucky? I’m trying to sleep! We can spare later.” You spoke groggily as you rubbed your eyes.

Bucky only chuckled. “ We warned you about pranking again Y/n. Also, you called me old and I don’t think I can let that slide either. You deserve what’s coming”. You immediately started to struggle, even though it was of no use. You knew they would get you back eventually, but you were not planning on them finding out so soon.

Bucky carried you down to Tony’s lab. Once inside, you noticed Peter in the same predicament, only he was being carried by Thor. Bucky gently placed you on the ground and gave you a warning look. You knew trying to run would be pointless, so you stood and watched as Thor put Peter on the ground too.

Steve broke the silence. “ We warned you two about continuing this prank battle. So now you must face the consequences. But don’t worry, we are going to make this extra fun!” You and Peter gulped and tried to argue back. “ Mr. Rogers sir, look we promise we are done now. I obviously won the battle, so there is no need for us to continue!” You shot Peter a death glare. “ Hey! You did not win! I obviously had the better ideas”. Loki spoke next. “ Ahh you see this guys? They are just asking for tickles at this point. I didn’t hear a single apology from either of them. Shall we start this laughter session now?”

You and Peter took a step back from the group. This was going to be bad, realllly bad. Suddenly you were picked up by Bucky and taken over to a cot that was set up in the corner of the lab. Tony liked to work late sometimes so he had a couple of cots laying around for his “ Beauty rest”. You were tossed onto your back and Bucky held your hands above your head. He then gave you a very evil smirk and let go. You tried to pull your arms down but found you couldn’t move them at all. Loki peered over you and gave you a wink. “ Magic! Hold on, that is soooo not fair!!” Loki reached over and pinched your side. “ All is fair when the trickster God is involved”. You let out a squeak and shifted away from him. Your face was already red from nervousness and you stole a glance at Peter. He was in the same boat as you, pinned with his arms above his head but with Thor sitting on his legs. Peter was already giggling at the thought of his near future.

“ How did you catch us so quickly!? No one was even awake when we pranked the others!?” You asked Steve, genuinely curious.

Steve grinned evilly and said, “ Wouldn’t you like to know! As captain, I choose not to tell you as our methods may come to good use in the future”. You groaned as Bucky sat on your thighs holding you in place. You immediately started giggling when Bucky lightly started tracing his fingers around your upper legs. Why on earth did you wear shorts to bed last night!

Thor heard this and spoke up. “ Why brother, the young maiden is already laughing. I bet we can make the boy laugh harder don’t you think?” Steve laughed and said “ Oh a challenge? These two are very competitive so it only makes sense to have them compete for the “Loudest Laughter” award! Bring it on!”

Now you really regretted your decision to continue the pranking.

With the smell of competition in the air, Bucky stopped his light tickles and dove right in. He wanted to make you squeal. These four men were VERY competitive folks, which meant no mercy was to come for either of you.

Bucky wormed his hands up to your belly and started pinching and squeezing up and down your thighs. You snorted every time he squeezed your hips and then let out a chain of maniacal giggles when he got close to your ribs. Steve kept teasing you saying “ Awe does that tickle?” Or “ Come on laugh harder! We have a competition to win”. Soon enough he got bored of watching Bucky do all the work and he drove his fingers into your arms pits. You were losing your mind laughing and squirming to the best of your ability. Loki’s magic made it even worse knowing you couldn't protect yourself. Damn him.

Bucky and Steve gave you a quick breather once they heard a very high-pitched squeal come over from Peter. Thor was pinching up and down Peter’s thighs while Loki drilled into the poor kid's armpits. Peter’s armpits were easily his worst spot and he was screaming pretty loud at this point.

You giggle slightly seeing Peter in such a tizzy, but unfortunately, you didn’t keep that to yourself.

“ Ready to laugh already? We were gonna give you a longer break after listening to Peter sing but I guess it’s time for us to find your singing voice.” Steve winked at you as he and Bucky switched spots. Steve was now facing your feet and Bucky was crouched next to you. You saw Steve reach for your feet and you starting kicking them trying to make it as difficult as possible for him to catch them.

“ Oh, I think I found it! Do you have ticklish feet Y/n?” You blushed and nodded your head. “ Yehehehs!! So please please leave them alone. We are sorry for the pranks we promise!!” You tried to plead but Steve just chuckled and grabbed your left foot. You had no socks or shoes on since you were ripped from your bed. All it took was Steve to slide a finger up and down your sole for you to really freak out. “ NO STEVE PLEAHEHESE IM SORRAHAHY!! NOOO!!” Steve rapidly scraped his nails across your foot and wiggled his fingers under your toes which really made you screech. You were bubbling with laughter and your squeaks were very high-pitched. Bucky walked up to your head and started fluttering his fingers across your ears and neck causjg you to shake your head frantically and squeal even louder. The feeling were maddening and Bucky knew exactly what he was doing to create the butterfly sensation in your stomach. Steve was now not only torturing your feet still, but had also resorted to squeezing your kneecaps and laughing as you flinched and spazed out at each and every squeeze. You were in tickle hell, and your stomach was rapidly jumping up and down as you let out deep belly laughs and shrieks of mirth.

Peter was also letting out shrieks of laughter as Loki methodically rubbed in between each and every rib, but he was nowhere near as loud as you. Good thing Tony had sound proofed his lab, otherwise you were sure the whole tower would be racing down to find the cause of the screaming.

To make things even worse, Bucky gently lifted the hem of your shirt and started rubbing his stubble across your belly. Thanks to Loki’s conversation with Tony, Steve had managed to find one of Tony’s paintbrushes and he was weaving the soft bristles up and down your foot, leaving no spot untouched. Thor and Loki had given Peter a break because they wanted hear and see what got you laughing so hard.

You went into hysterics feeling the two sensations and you used the last of your energy to buck your hips trying to escape the extremely ticklish feeling. Bucky easily held you down and started his cascade of raspberries all over your abdomen. You soon fell silent as tears spilled from your eyes and hiccups exploded from your chest. The boys slowed at this and let you take a breather. Steve was still lightly running his nails up and down your thighs keeping you giddy, but the onslaught was over.

“ Wow. I do believe the young maiden was much louder than Spider kid here. I say you men have won this battle”. Thor said as he got off of a very red and very giggly Peter.

“ What can we say? We are the superior ticklers ya know” Bucky teased back. Loki rolled his eyes and with a snap of his fingers you and Peter regained control of your arms and curled up into protective balls. Even though the tickling had stopped, you could still feel the phantom sensations of the paintbrush bristles attacking your foot. “ Holy Shit Steve. Never touch my feet with a brush eveheher again! You about killed me!!”

The four men laughed a little and helped you two stand up.

“ We are so so sorry. We pr-o-mise to not continue our pranks.” You said with a hiccup. Peter nodded his head in agreement. Deep down the team knew you would pick it back up next year, but no one said anything out loud.

“ Good. Now scurry along so the grown-ups can talk, or we might just start this party back up again.” Loki said wiggling his fingers in your direction. With a shudder, you both bolted from the lab without another word. You were not going to risk another tickle assault by being sassy back.

“ They are just going to do this again next year ya know”, Bucky said watching you run down the hallway.“ “Yup. But that means we have an entire year to tickle them senseless every time they mess up.” Steve said with a smirk.

He walked over and held up the paintbrush for the rest of the guys to see. “ Besides, we now have a secret weapon that I say we use to our advantage. We even have the perfect test subjects. Who is down for another competition?”

#Sequel fic #Marvel tickle fic #mcu tickle #Lee Reader #Lee Peter #ler loki #ler Thor #Ler Bucky #Ler Steve #Open prompts #Thanks for the request #paintbrush madness #Fluff

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