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#like Strawberry said we did the best we could
xspeter · 2 days
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part of the ‘dancing with our hands tied’ collection
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇... You discover Luke does remember that night.
note: kind of a short one, sorry guys !!
W.C: 1.2k
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You wanted to enjoy the party. Really, you did, but you were completely and utterly exhausted.
How could you not be? There’d been an accident in the strawberry fields that you still didn’t quite understand how it even occurred in the first place, so you’d been on your feet from sunrise to sunset taking care of everyone involved.
The only thing you wanted to do as soon as everything was said and done was go to your cabin and sleep, but you’d promised your older sister you’d be here. Apparently, she needed “emotional support” to talk to her crush, but from where you stand now you can see they look perfectly comfortable.
You sigh, taking another sip of your beer. You’d barely touched it, and some stupid part of you thought maybe it’d help you wake up. But, you were pretty sure it was doing just the opposite.
“You look happy.” Someone says in front of you, and you don’t have to look up to know who it is.
“Ecstatic.”
Luke huffs out a laugh, right hand in his shorts pocket as he brings the other up to his mouth and sips on his beer. “I heard about what happened with the Demeter kids. Are they alright?”
You just shrug, back hunched over as you slump into yourself. “They’ll be fine. Just… I don’t understand how the Stymphalian Birds even got through the border.”
Luke takes a seat next to you on the log, knees cracking as he does. “Someone probably summoned them as a stupid prank. I wouldn’t think too much into it.”
You just sigh, turning your head so you’re facing him. “I know that. It’s just…” You trail off, unable to put your thoughts into words. It was just too much of a coincidence. The lighting bolt being stolen, a war potentially breaking out between the Gods, and now this?
Luke doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Instead, he just places his hand on your knee comfortingly, thumb beginning to rub random shapes into your skin. You relish in the feeling, his calloused hands are rough but oh so warm.
“Why don’t we go back to your cabin and get your mind off things?” Luke murmurs in your ear, but you grunt in protest. “Can’t,” You sigh, “I promised Alice I’d be her emotional support.”
Luke looks up, brown eyes searching for your sister. When he finds her, he can’t help but snort. He points to her, guiding your line of sight. “I think Alice is okay.”
And. Well. Yes. She looked like she was perfectly fine, laughing it up with the boy she liked. But you didn’t want to just leave without telling her.
You voiced that to Luke, who nodded and then got up without another word. You watched as he interrupted whatever conversation Alice was having and pointed to you. The three of them turned back and you attempted a wave, which Alice sheepishly returned.
You aren’t sure exactly what Luke said to her, but by the time he returns to you he grabs your hand and hauls you to your feet. You're so tired you feel as if you can barely stand, and you rely heavily on Luke to lead you back to your cabin.
It’s nearly empty when you reach it, save a few younger kids who are already passed out. You practically death drop onto your bed, legs hanging off of it and arms strewn above your head.
Luke chuckles, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he kneels in front of you and begins untying the laces of your converse, pulling them off your socked feet and laying them gently next to your bed.
You barely even register it, eyes closed and breathing shallow. If Luke didn’t know any better, he’d think you were already asleep. But the slight smile on your face tells him you’re not.
But, he’d let you pretend.
He removes your makeup for you, gently rubbing at your face. You sigh happily as he does, and it’d be a lie if he said the sound doesn’t make his heart melt.
But, it was normal to feel that way about your best friend.
By the time he’s finished he kisses the top of your head and turns to leave, but you whine. “Luke,” You murmur, voice raspy. “Stay with me tonight? Please?”
Luke had never stayed the night in your cabin before this. You’d stayed the night in his a handful of times, but that was it. This felt like uncharted territory. Still, despite the slight tremble in his voice, he says, “‘Course, Sweetheart. Anything you want.”
You grin, scooting over and making room for him. He slips off his shoes, setting them besides yours in an act that feels entirely domestic.
He lays into the unfamiliarity of your bed. Your bed that smells of lemons and vanilla, just like you. That is still warm with your body heat. Your bed that is yours.
You let out a sigh of content, laying your head on his chest like you always do. Only this time, Luke only slightly wishes you weren’t, all too aware of the rapid beating of his own heart.
“Do you remember the first time we met?” You ask, gnawing on your bottom lip. You fully expect Luke to recall the first day you’d gone and changed his bandages, but he doesn’t.
“When you sang to me?”
You nearly shoot up at that, eyes wide. “You- You remember that?”
Luke laughs nervously, eyebrows furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I? You saved my life.”
While that’s true, you’d completely suspected Luke would be in too much pain to even remember that. His mind would’ve blocked out the trauma. “I thought…”
Luke grins, “What? That I’d blocked it out?” That was exactly what you thought, yes.
“Well, I mean, yeah.”
Luke shakes his head, playing with your fingers that are spread out on his belly. “At first, I wished I had. I mean, who likes to remember themselves screaming bloody murder in front of their friends?” He attempts to joke, but you shoot him a warning look.
He takes the hint and averts his gaze from yours. He swallows, “But, uh, then I remember you singing and I thank The Gods for letting me remember.”
That statement makes you flush. He thanks The Gods for letting him remember what you're sure has to be one of the worst days of his life– because of you? Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, and you allow Luke to intertwine your fingers together and rest them against his stomach.
For some reason, you feel almost guilty. Guilty that Luke would thank such divine beings for you. “There are better things to thank The Gods for.” You murmur.
Luke's expression almost darkens, but he never tears his gaze from yours. “No,” He mutters, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips, “There aren’t.”
You aren’t sure how to take that statement, but Luke doesn’t give you any time to process anyway. Slowly, his grin returns to his face, and he whispers, “Let's go to bed, yeah?”
You swallow, nodding hesitantly and allowing him to lead your head to his chest. But, even as his fingers run through your hair and slowly lull you to sleep, you can’t get his words out of your head.
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taglist: @apolloscastellan @ddarling-ddearest-ddead @sflame15-blog @cherr-y-eji @wen-oo
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‘So… Déjà vu?’
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Summary: Sam and Dean have to watch their best friend die over and over again everyday.
Word count: 4.7k
A/N: I tried to not use Y/n a whole bunch in this story, mainly because I realized not a whole lot of people like that. But it is steal in the story. Also I did base this off of @jasmines-library story called GROUNDHOG DAY, y'all should go read it it’s really good. But please enjoy.
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
‘Heat of the moment’
Sam woke up with a start, the music dragging him from his short slumber. Rising to sit up in his bed the small digital alarm blaring through the small motel room. Bring a hand up to his face he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. 
Sam glanced over to his side slightly surprised to see that his brother was already up and moving about, considering that he would be the one to stay in bed throughout the day if he could. 
Dean sat on his side of the bed, one leg pulled towards his chest as he tied his shoelaces together. “Rise and shine, Sammy.” He shouted over the music, tossing both feet on the ground once he was done. 
“Dude,” Sam said with a small chuckle. “Asia?”
A groan came from Deans bed, the sight of the motel pillow being flipped over a tired head caused a smile to lift onto Sam’s face. “Turn it down.” You muttered beneath the pillow, tugging it closer towards your face. 
Dean leaned over towards the nightstand, turning up the volume on the digital clock. “Suck it up, buttercup. This is y’all’s wake up call.”
You sat up in the bed, purposely swatting Dean in the back with your pillow before hauling yourself up. Sam let out a breathy laugh at his brother’s expression, tossing the sheets off his body to start getting ready for the day. 
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
You stood beside Sam, patiently waiting in the door way for Dean to finish going through his bags to retrieve his pistol. Stopping his movements the older man lifted a bra by his finger, meeting Sam’s eyes as he gestured to the garment. “This yours?”
Sam gave his brother an annoyed look, in return Dean laughed in his face. 
“Hurry up, I’m hungry.” You told him, slightly curious if the bra Dean was holding was yours or from the last couple that occupied the room. 
“Relax,” Dean told you, digging deeper into his bag before he pulled out his gun. “So am I.”
The drive to the diner was short and the parking lot was vaguely packed. Walking through the door, the bell chimed above as Dean lead them to an empty table. 
“Hey, Tuesday.” Dean said pointing at the ‘specials’ board above the counter. “Pig in a poke.”
“Do you even know what that is?” Sam asked, eyeing the older man. 
Dean opened his mouth to answer, but whatever he was about to say died in his throat. Sam gave him a very smug smile as the waiter came up to their table. “Now what can I get y’all started with?”
“Think I’ll have the chocolate pancakes with the strawberry toppings.” You told the lady, handing over your menu as you did so.
“You’re gonna get sick.” Sam told you after he and Dean had ordered their own breakfast. 
You simply shrugged your shoulders. “Then I’ll get sick, Sam, and hopefully have the day off afterwards.”
“Nah,” Dean told you, his arm resting behind your seat. “We’ll still make you work anyway.”
You slung Deans arm off before facing Sam again, “What exactly are we searching here for, Sam?”
“Nothing, that’s what we’re searching for.” Dean said for Sam, purposely ignoring the look the taller man gave him. 
“Well Dean, what do you think we should be doing then?”
“Searching for Bela, getting the colt back, Sam. Not sitting here and working a simple disappearance case.”
“I agree with Dean,” you told Sam, leaning forward onto the table in case anyone were to eavesdrop. “We can’t close up Hell with out the colt.”
“I know that, Y/n.” Sam told you, a deep sigh falling from his lips as he looked around the small diner. “But we don’t even know where she is. And in the meantime we have this.” He pulled a couple of news clipping articles from his jacket and placed them onto the table.
As the three of you discussed the disappearance of the local professor, the waitress gave each of you y’all’s breakfast. Your chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream and chopped strawberries made your stomach rumble, giving a quick thank you before pouring syrup on top. 
A loud smash lifted you from the sugary dessert, both brothers staring down at the smashed bottle of hot sauce on the floor. “Crap.” The waitress muttered to herself, before rushing off to grab something to clean the spill. 
After she left, you talked briefly about the professor, Sam making a small point about how he was last scene at the local Mystery Spot. A place ‘Where the laws of physics have no meaning!”
“Alright then,” You said, pulling out your wallet to leave a small tip for the waitress. “Let’s head to the Mystery Spot.”
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
The said Mystery Spot lived up to its name, tables stuck to the ceiling, the hallways were painted to give off a hypnotic appeal. If it weren’t for the fact that the place was completely pitch black and that the magical effect it was supposed to have wasn’t in full effect. It would honestly be something that you would like to go and see when your not on the job. 
“Huh,” You muttered, shinning a flashlight at one of the strange objects in the room. “Do you think this guy actually gets money off this place.”
“Are you kidding? I’m surprised if this guy could even keep the place open.” Dean responded eyeing the same piece that you were. 
Moving the flashlight away from the object and towards the younger Winchester, you flashed it at the EMF in his hand. “What’s your reading?”
Sam just shook his head. 
“Do you even know what you’re looking for?” Dean asked, aggravation slowly seeping into his tone. 
“Yeah…” Sam gave a small shrug, though his response was clearly unsure of him self. He noticed the look both his brother and you were giving him. “No.” He finally admitted. 
You gave a small nod, your lips pulled into a tight line as you moved on through the room. “Lovely.”
Click
“What the hell are you doing here.” A voiced called out, causing you and the brothers to instantly draw your guns and aim at the person. 
You recognized him as the owner of the Mystery Spot, and so did the boys because they both held up their guns in the air to not show that they were not any danger. Though by the looks of it all the three of them were far from innocent in the eyes of the owner. 
“Woah, hey look, we can explain.” Dean said, eyeing the weapon with worry, seeing as he can’t defend themselves as much since they are the ones that broke into his building. 
The owner waved his gun between the three of them, uncertain if he should pull the trigger or not. “You robbing me?”
“No sir,” You told the man, moving towards the nearby table to place your gun in his eye of sight, trying to prove that you weren’t about to harm him. “No sir, we aren’t stealing from you.”
“Don’t move!” He shouted, the barrel of the gun pointed at your chest. “Don’t.”
“I’m just putting gun away.” You tried to reassure the man. 
Bang
The noise came loud and sudden, causing you to fall backwards upon impact. 
“Y/n!”
Sam quickly fell to the ground, placing both hands over the hole in your chest. “Oh my God.” He muttered tears slowly collecting at his water line, he looked over at his older brother for help, unsure of what to do. 
“Call 911.” Dean told the man, coming to sit beside you, eyes darting between your wound and the pained expression on your face. 
“I-I didn’t mean t-“
“Call them, now!” He shouted, placing a hand near the seeping hole. Praying that it’ll disappear once he lifts it. 
Though like all his prayers they go unheard as blood continued to pour from the wound. You let out a pained moan, with either of the boys putting pressure on it, it caused pain to shoot through your body. But, you felt to numb to tell them off about that. 
Sam tugged you up into his arms, feeling as your body starts to relax the longer you laid there. Once more he looked at Dean, desperation in his eyes as he didn’t want to loose you like this. 
Dean lightly tapped the side of your face, watching as your eyes drooped behind your eyelids. “Please, buttercup,” he whispered, voice slowly cracking as the weight of the situation suddenly fell on him. “Just stay awake for a little while, ok? C-can you do that for me?”
You began to see spots in your vision, sounds had started to mix in with one another and you could taste the blood filling your mouth. And above all filling your lungs, slowly choking on copper liquid. 
“J-just a little longer.” Dean whispered, bringing your head to him to place a kiss on your hairline. “You can do it, me and Sammy know you can.”
Sam felt his heart stop when he noticed your eyes wouldn’t open back up, when your chest stopped rising  and falling, how your arms just dangled. A choked sob left his mouth, and Dean just held your head closer to him, muttering quiet prayers for you to stay with them. 
But they knew it was too late, they knew that the ambulance would never make it on time. You were dead. 
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
‘Heat of the moment’
Sam woke up with a start, panic deeply embedded in his mind as he slowly processed what exactly had happened. But, looking around it appeared as if nothing had happened and that it was a strange dream. 
Dean sat in his bed, leg pulled towards his chest, shoelaces tightly gripped in each hand as he appeared to have the same thoughts racing through his mind just like his brother. “Rise and shine, Sammy.”
Sam had heard that before, the same line ringing through his mind like a signal. He’s heard that before, he’s heard this song before, almost like he had already lived this day before. 
A groan came from Deans bed, immediately both brothers looked over at the noise. And both felt their heart stop in their chest at what they saw. 
It was you. 
And you had just pulled your pillow over your head like from a distant memory of theirs. 
“Y/n?” Dean asked, forgetting his shoe completely and reaching over to lightly shake you. Almost as to see if you were real. “Y/n?”
“Cut it out.” You told him, taking the pillow and hitting him in the chest. 
Dean turned to his brother, disbelief and shock written all over his face as he tried to find an answer from his smart little brother. But, Sam just slowly shook his head, he didn’t know why or how you were back, but you were. 
And neither boys knew if they should be thankful or concerned for that. 
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
Everything was the same. That the boys figured out the longer the day passed, from you doing the same morning routine as before, all the way to the people in the diner talking and acting as if they’ve done this before. 
It was almost as if it was rehearsed. 
Sam and Dean knew something was happening but they just didn’t know how to voice it. You were acting as if nothing had happened, as if you didn’t die in their arms from a gun shot. And maybe it didn’t happen. 
“Hey, Dean,” you said, sitting down in the inside of the booth. “Tuesdays pig in a poke.”
Sam gave you a funny look, eyebrows pinched together as he glanced at his brother real quick. “It’s Tuesday?”
You looked at the menu, not even bothering to met Sam’s eye as you spoke. “Yep, just like yesterday was Monday, and the day before was Sun-“
“We get it.” Dean interrupted you, his arm slung behind your back at he glanced around the restaurant. An unnerving feeling creeping up the back of his mind. 
Eyeing both boys, you could tell that something was the matter. They’ve been acting strange ever since they woke up this morning, but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why. “Are you guys ok?”  
“Yep.”
“Never better.”
You could tell they were lying, even through they were physically fine, deep down you knew something was wrong mentally. “Ok.” You replied going back to the menu, eyeing the many types of pancakes they had. “Think I’ll have chocolate pancakes with strawberry toppings.”
“Do you… Do you not remember any of this?” Sam asked, knowing now that this had happened before. 
“… no?” 
The waitress came over taking both yours and deans order, whom went with the special. Once she left, you turned you attention back to the boys. “What exactly should I be remembering?”
“This, today. Like it’s happened before.”
You pulled your lips into a tight line, mind racing to think if you’d actually remember this. “No, but maybe yall are experiencing Deja vu.” You told them, pretty certain that that’s all that was happening to them. 
“No, not Deja vu.” Sam told you, rubbing the sides of his head. “But it’s like this day has happened already, like we are reliving the yesterday.”
You glanced at each Winchester, concern etching to the front of your mind. “So… Deja vu?”
“No it’s-“ Dean rubbed his face, unsure of how to tell you that they’d already been through this day before. 
The waitress came back stack of chocolate chip pancakes, the whipped cream smothered in sliced strawberries. She also placed Deans pig in a poke onto the table, the smell of the breakfast gave off caused your stomach to rumble as your began to pour syrup on top the fruity food. 
“And here’s your hot sauc- crap!” The hot sauce on the platter tipped over falling towards the ground, though almost as a reflex Sam caught it, surprise etched on his face at what he’d done. “Thanks.” The waitress told him, walking away with the empty platter. 
“Wow.” You told the younger man. “We got our very own Spider-Man.”
After breakfast the boys seemed to try and explain the whole situation to you, though they tried their hardest to leave out the part where you got blown away by the owner of the mystery spot. 
The Mystery Spot. 
That’s where you died and that’s also when you came back and everything was practically normal. The brothers knew they had to go back there and find some answers, but not at night. That’s what they told you when you brought up going at night, they knew that if they could prevent the inedible then they would. 
Tires screeched from the road, trying to stop itself before it connected with your body. You were thrown across the road, your body broken and bloody from the impact. Once the brothers reached your side they knew it was too late, you were far to gone for them so save. 
‘Heat of the moment’
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
Day after day, song after song, the Winchester boys had to watch you die in both gruesome and unrealistic ways. And every single time there was no way to save you. 
They were starting to get desperate, everyday they had explained to you what had happened and every time you ended up dead in one way or another. Right now they were back in the diner, you were quietly munching on your stack of waffles while the boys had the computer and newspaper articles scattered around the table. 
“So…” you began trying to figure out how exactly to word your next sentence. “”I’ve been killed every day and neither of y’all can figure out how?” 
“Well not exactly but I think we are getting close.” Sam told you, glancing up from behind the computer screen. 
“Yeah, see we thought I was the mystery spot, but after we tor down the walls and you got an axe to the head.” Dean told you, ignoring the way you stopped eating at that. “We thought maybe it wasn’t the place, but the things around it.”
“So then the town?”
“Exactly.”
“Well,” you began picking out the strawberries and eating them alone. “Have y'all tried leaving this place?”
“Yes”
“And?”
“And we got T-boned” Sam told you, finger clicking against the keyboard. 
”Oh… and I take it I didn’t make it.”
“No. No your neck broke on impact. “
“Oh” you didn’t really feel like eating after that. Clearing your throat and pushing your plate away you leaned forward to see what they were working on. “So what exactly have you guys gotten from all this.”
“It’s not that clear but, this Dexter Hasselback had put a lot of places like the Mystery Spot out of business.” Sam told you flipping the papers in your direction. “So we may think that I has to do something with him.”
“Yeah, but, we don’t know where Hasselback is.” Dean added on. “So we’re thinking that if we find him, we find out what going on.”
You nodded along with the information given, “Sounds great. Should we go ahead and look for Hasselback then?”
Dean gave a quick nod, hurriedly packing all the newspapers clippings into the small back that Sam had brought with him. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw a man from the counter get up to leave. 
Sam glanced at where the man once sat, and he seem to freeze at what he saw. The pink sticky syrup next to the plate covered in leftovers of the man’s breakfast. “Dean,” he said not once taking his eyes off the syrup. “Look at the counter.”
“What about it?” You asked, even though Sam didn’t call for you. 
“That man has maple syrup for the last 100 Tuesdays, now all of the sudden he has strawberries?” He said eyeing the man as he walked out of the restaurant. 
“Can’t blame ‘em.” You told Sam, picking up your own strawberry at that. “It’s earths one weakness.”
“Nothing changes, not the people and especially what they do. Except for us.” Dean muttered catching onto Sam’s ranting. 
And by tomorrow they would know exactly what to do to stop this. 
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
Neither Sam nor Dean spoke a word to you the next day, they let you get your pancakes and listened to the words you seemed forced to say all while never taking their eyes off the man at the counter. 
“You know if you keep on being rude, the lady is gonna spit in my food.” You told them playing with a sugar packet as you waited on your food to come. 
They knew you were right, when the waitress came by, they were the ones to tell them what you wanted. And when they did it was very curt and off handed, almost like they were too focused on something else to care about how they acted. 
“You’ll live.” Dean told you, eyes glued to the man. 
“You two are dicks when your hungry.” You muttered under your breath, although they still heard what you said, but that was the least of their concerns.
The waitress came back with your pancakes before leaving again, and as she left the man at the counter suddenly stood up. He cleaned his mouth with a napkin, pulled out some money from his pocket and headed for the door. 
Sam and Dean shared a quick look, waiting til he was outside before getting up themselves. You stared confusedly as they walked out the diner, completely leaving you in the booth were you sat. 
“Are you seriously making me pay?” You called after them, though they were already out the door before you could argue any further. Plucking a small strawberry off the whipped cream, you threw down some money and hurried after the boys, not wanting to be left behind. 
The boys followed the man to the parking lot, though they refused to let him go any further as Sam slammed the man up against the fence. 
“Sam! What the hell?” You asked, coming up beside the taller man. But, your confusion went from one brother to the next as Dean pulled out a stake, the end dipped in blood. He pressed it up against the man’s throat silencing his yelling momentarily, the threat of being stabbed causing him to let out pleads to the two men. 
“We know who you are.” Dean told him pushing the piece of wood deeper into his neck. “Or what you are.”
“Oh my God.” The man looked between the three, eyes landing on you as you were the only one currently not posing as a threat to him. “Please don’t kill me.”
“It took us a hell of long time, but we figured it out.” Sam said, adding onto Dean explanation. “It was your M.O. that gave it away.”
“Yeah, going after jerks, giving them their just deserts. You kind loves that, don’t they?” Dean continued to taunt, not once letting his gripped slip up. 
The man looked like he was ready to start screaming again, eyes glancing between the weapon to the boys. “Yeah, sure. Ok! Just put the stake down!”
“Guys, maybe y’all should-“ you tried to reason with either of the brothers before they interrupted you.
“No!” Dean pressed the stake further into the man’s neck. “There’s only one creature powerful enough to do what you’re doing.” The man let out a pained groan. “Making reality out of nothing, sticking people into time-loops.”
“You’d have to be a God.” Sam finished, grip ever so slightly tightening on the man’s collar. “You’d have to be a trickster.”
“Sam…”
The man began to panic even more, a light sheen of sweat covering his face as he tried his hardest to lean away from the weapon. “Misters… my name is Ed Coleman. My wife is Amelia- I’ve got two kids!” He then stared right at the boys, “I sell add space for Christs sake.”
“Boys, I don’t think you should be doing this.” You tried once more, but all that came from your mouth just fell on deaf ears. 
“Don’t lie!” Sam suddenly shouted. “We know what you are, we killed your kind before.”
A beat of silence passed, no one seemed to move or even breath as they waited for something to happen. And right before their eyes the man’s face seemed to shift, his hair changing colors, eyes ever so slightly distancing themselves and his skin ridded itself of wrinkles. 
The man before you had shifted into an all to familiar face. 
“Actually,” The trickster began, a smug smirk plastered on his lips. “You didn’t.”
“Why are you doing this?” Dean asked first, the initial shock slowly fading as he came back to the current situation. “Why Y/n?”
“Are you kidding me? All three of you tried to kill me last time.” The trickster told you all, pointing an acusase finger as he did so. “Why wouldn’t I do this? Why not make each of you suffer?”
“So this is funny to you?” Sam asked, pushing the smaller man further into the fence. “Killing her over and over again, you find joy in that?”
“I’ve been getting killed?” You asked, confused and slightly shocked at what Sam had confessed. 
“Oh,” the trickster said, fake sincerity lacing his voice. “Did they forget to tell you today?”
“Shut up! Answer the question.” Dean shouted, the stake being pushed deeper into his throat as he did so. 
“Ok, ok! Yes it is fun.” The trickster confessed, trying to present a small laugh to ease the situation. Though it’s far from working. “But, this is so not about killing Y/n.”
The boys give one another a look of confusion. “What do you mean?”
“The joke is on the both of you. I mean… come on.” He gave a small roll of his eyes. “How great is it to watch your best friend die, day after day? Death after death? Forever.”
“Screw you.” Sam muttered. 
The trickster gave a small scoff, “Oh, yeah, way to go Sam. Way to keep it PG. But seriously how long will it take you two to realize you can’t save everyone? No matter how hard you try.”
“Yeah? We stick this stake in you right now, it ends for good.” Dean taunted pressing deeper with the wood. 
“Ok. Ok!” The trickster held up both hands. “You can’t take a joke? Fine, you’re out of it. You wake up tomorrow and it’ll be Wednesday.”
“And if you’re lying?”
“Then you know where to find me. At the diner having pancakes.” He then snapped his fingers and everything went dark. 
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
Sam woke up with a start, the music blared through the small digital clock on the bedside table. He tried to rub the sticky from the back of his eyes, but the song of choice caused him to awaken even more. Glancing over at the table he ignored the time, seemingly staring at the date. 
“Wednesday.” He muttered to himself. “It’s Wednesday.”
“Yeah,” you called out from the bathroom, ringing out your hair into the motels shower as you did. “Like how yesterday was Tuesday and the day before was Monday. And can you turn that down, please? I don’t want to get a complaint from the neighbors.”
“No, are you kidding?” Dean asked you, deeply relieved that he didn’t have to listen to Asia again this morning. “Is this not the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard?”
You glance between both brothers, stopping your movements momentarily. “I’ve heard better.” You then went back to drying your hair. “How many Tuesdays did you two have exactly.”
“Too many.” Sam told you, tossing His bed sheets away from him as he got out of bed. “Wait… what do you remember?”
“Well you two were being real dicks at breakfast yesterday, then you threatened to stab a guy in the diners parking lot. And then the guy turned into the trickster, and that’s ‘bout it, really.”
“Right, ok. Let’s get out of here.” Sam told you, making his way to his bag to get a change of clothes. Dean not to far behind. 
“Are- are you two not hungry?”
“No.”
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
You placed the last of your stuff in the back of the impala, the door shutting will a loud thump as you did so. Turning to make your way back into the motel, you were stopped by an older man. One you recognized as someone from the diner yesterday. 
“Jus’ hand me your money and I’ll be on my way.” He told you, cocking his pistol to show that he wasn’t joking around. 
“Alright, ok. Yeah.” You told him, hands slightly raised at your sides as you did so. “It’s just in my pocket, ok?”
He gave you a quick nod, eyes darting around the empty parking lot in case someone walked out on them. “That’s fine.”
Reaching into your pockets, you pulled your wallet out. Raising it to show the man, you then tossed it at him, he caught it with his unoccupied hand. The gun still pointed directly at you. 
“We good?” You questioned, hands going back to the air as the man didn’t look like he was going to lower his weapon.
“Yeah, we’re good.”
Bang
Sam and Dean stopped their movements, the both of them giving each other a Quick Look before running outside. Upon reaching the motels parking lot they saw you on the ground, blood everywhere so slowly pooling around you as you laid motionless. 
The man who had shot you was running away, his gun tucked tightly towards his chest as he fled from the scene. But the brothers main focus wasn’t on him, instead they raced towards you, praying that they weren’t too late.
Sam dropped to one side as Dean dropped to the other, their blue jeans soaking up the blood on the asphalt as they lifted you into a sitting position. 
“Y/n?” Sam asked hands clutching onto the sides of your face as your body went numb. “Y/n please.”
Dean knew this was too familiar, it was like the first time that you had been killed. Only this time he had a sliver of hope that the trickster was playing another joke on them. But as seconds passed and you had yet to wake up, that hope began to fade. And instead tears threatened to spill over. 
“Sam,” dean muttered out, holding on your lifeless hand. “I don’t think we are waking up this time.”
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
A/N: Hope yall enjoyed. And for anyone that is wondering I am working on the DAREDEVIL!READER x JASON TODD story. I just finished school and tests is all, but let me know what yall think!
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seokmattchuus · 3 days
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Breaking Point - Seok Matthew
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"You've known each other for so long, aren't you sick of spending so much time together?" Gyuvin raised a brow as you and Matthew entered his frat house together. "I've never seen either of you on your own. Is it like, Stockholm syndrome or something?" His eyes narrowed as he tried to think it through.
"Do you think I want to keep this one around?" Matthew raised his own brow, his index finger moving to point at you. "I tried to get her to date in high school to get her off my back but none of the relationships lasted a month." He scoffed.
You rolled your eyes at the statement.
"Says the one who didn't even date." You scoffed. "Not that you had a choice, anyways."
"It's not my fault I got hot after graduation." He turned to look at you. He was always sensitive about being a late bloomer.
"Oh, you had a minor glow up and now you think you're hot." You turned to him. "You could be in an Airheads commercial with how big your head's gotten."
Gyuvin stared at the both of you, his eyes switching back and forth as you argued.
"Y/n. Matthew." He started. "If either of you need to get laid, that can be arranged."
"Please." Matthew laughed. "She gets attached too easily to have one-night stands."
You let out a scoff of disbelief at his words.
"As if you could please anyone here." You started. "You were a virgin for so long, I would bet money that you don't even know what the clit is."
"You two just got here, god damn." Gyuvin looked between the both of you in disbelief. "Are you best friends or siblings??"
"As if I'd-" You started but Ricky came up.
"I've never seen anyone walk into a party and stay by the door." He laughed. "You two look like you could use a break from each other." He said before handing you a cup and putting a hand on your lower waist.
A move that didn't go unnoticed by Matthew, his eyes locked on Ricky's hand.
And Matthew's move not going unnoticed by Gyuvin.
"He started it!" You whined as you took the cup, letting Ricky lead you through the building. "He's always talking shit."
"Anything piss him off lately?" Ricky said as he led you to a couch.
You rolled your eyes before bringing the cup to your lips, a mix of strawberry rum and sprite greeting your tastebuds.
"You always make my favorite." You smiled at him.
"I heard you come in. I figured you could use it." He laughed.
"But he's had a stick up his ass all week." You sighed. "You know how Hanbin asked Haneul to set us up? Well Matthew was fine with it at first, but after our third unofficial date, he's been trying to get me to ghost him." You rolled your eyes. "You know he even took my phone on 'accident' the other day? He had it for the whole day after our class!" Your voice was getting louder as you felt yourself getting worked up. "It's childish!"
"Sounds like you could use another drink." Ricky laughed as his eyes shifted towards the door. "But I think he has his reasons."
Your eyes followed his to see Matthew arguing with Hanbin before walking away. You'd be lying if you said you didn't notice the girl next to him but it's not like you were dating. The two of you were still talking. And casually meeting up.
Friends with benefits if you will.
"I don't care if he has reasons." You scoffed. "For someone who used to be a little bitch, he's sure gotten obnoxiously ballsy."
"Matthew? A little bitch?" Ricky smirked in amusement. "I don't see it." He shook his head with a laugh, finally bringing his cup to his lips.
"Dude." You shook your head, your eyes widening. "He used to be scared of bugs." You started. "If he even heard someone talking about a horror movie, he had to leave because it was getting to him." You chuckled.
"Oh! And there was one time where we had a field trip in high school," You paused to take another sip of your drink. "Someone he was rooming with snuck in alcohol and you know what that boy did?" You held back a snort. "He was so scared of getting in trouble that he texted his mom." You emphasized the last three words. "She called the teachers and of course, they got in trouble, but who snitches like that?" You narrowed your eyes at the gall past Matthew had.
"When he told me about still getting in trouble, I told him they at least should have drank it." You scoffed before taking another sip. "Like, you did it to not get in trouble and you still did. Might as well have had fun."
Ricky kept his eyes on you, and you weren't sure if he just didn't believe you or if he was thinking back on Matthew's behavior to see if he ever caught him slipping up.
Either way, the anger from before was fading and you were finally starting to enjoy yourself.
-
You hadn't seen Matthew since Ricky pointed him out and you were starting to forget you even came with him.
Until Ricky led you to the outside table group that Matthew was a part of.
"We're playing 'truth or drink'." Gyuvin gave a boyish smile. He was clearly a few drinks in. "You can sit here by me and Ricky." He motioned his arm to the chairs next to him. "If it's okay with Matt, of course." He smirked towards him as if saying something.
Matthew rolled his eyes for what you would call the billionth time today.
"It's not like he owns me." You mumbled bitterly as you sat next to Gyuvin, Ricky taking the spot next to you and throwing an arm over your shoulder. "Plus, I used to beat him up in high school." You said as you gave Ricky your cup to refill. "He knows better."
"Oh~~" The crowd around you teased and you looked towards Matthew who was less than amused.
-
As the game went on, there had been a bunch of answers to questions you never wanted to ask. But of course, the questions got better the more you got into it.
"Y/n!" An adorable blonde whose name you couldn't remember. You swore it was something with 'Chae', or maybe 'Na', but your brain was too fuzzy to remember. "You've been talking about how different Matt used to be." She started with a drunken giggle. "What's something that hasn't changed about him?"
Matthew's head turned towards you to shoot you a glare, but you didn't give him a chance to get to you.
"He's terrified of bugs." You held back a laugh as you thought about a time in fifth grade. "Any kind of bug. Big, small, wings, you name it, he'-"
A hand came up to cover your mouth and you turned to see Matthew himself leaning over the chair that Gyuvin was previously in. You gave him some sort of half-glare, half-pout, your hand coming up to drag his hand away.
It didn't work of course.
"Let her finish!" The girl who asked whined.
"Yeah, don't get on her bad side." Ricky laughed with a smirk. "She might beat you up again."
"It was this huge moth that flew into class, and I freaked out." Matthew said flatly, his hand still firm against your mouth.
You narrowed your eyes at him. He was lying of course, and as the only person around who knew him that well, you couldn't let these people be lied to.
You bit his hand and he pulled away almost immediately.
"No!" You yelled out as soon as his hand was away. "It was a butterfly!" You started laughed at the memory. "A fucking butterfly!!"
The table filled with laughter, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop there. After the week Matthew put you through, you could call things even after this.
"He screamed so loud, and he wouldn't stop until the teacher caught it and opened the window to let it out!" You leaned back onto Ricky's shoulder as you started to shake with laughter. The image of little Matthew screaming and pointing at the butterfly seemed so much funnier after a few drinks.
Everyone else seemed to be in an amused shock at the stark contrast from young Matthew to the person he was today. But Matthew couldn't keep the scowl off his face.
You had gotten yourself so lost in another question that you missed Ricky motioning to Matthew for something.
"Isn't it time to get you home?" Ricky shook the shoulder you were on to get your attention. "Aren't your roommates gonna worry?"
You whined at the thought.
"They left me." You pouted up at him. "They're out camping this weekend." You pushed yourself off his shoulder just to fall all the way to the other side.
Onto Matthew.
"Don't you think you've had enough to drink?" He said, annoyance taking over as he tried to get you to sit up.
"It's not like I was trying to lean on you." You gave him a scowl, or at least the best you could muster. "Gyuvin's supposed to be there, anyways."
"Yeah, you're done." He said, before grabbing your phone and standing up. "Let's get you home."
You looked to Ricky for help.
"I can't help you there, princess." He shrugged. "I don't even know where you live."
You were about to respond when you felt Matthew grab your arm to pull you up. When you lost your balance, he put your arm over his, sighing when you pulled away and stumbled again.
"Just hold on, please." He groaned. "If you fall, you're going to cry and I'm never going to let you live it down."
"I'm not even that drunk." You mumbled. "I can just go home with Ricky."
You knew what the answer to that would be, but you were petty at heart, and you were going to make this the worst possible situation for him.
"You sure your boyfriend would appreciate that?" He raised a brow.
"I don't have a boyfriend." You came back, your head held high.
"That's not what you were saying about H-"
You immediately found your footing as you forced your hand over his mouth.
"I swear on every higher power out there that I will kill you if you finish that sentence." You narrowed your eyes at him.
In true best friend fashion, Matthew responded by biting your hand so you'd pull away.
Payback was big between the both of you.
"My silence can be bought." He smiled bitterly at you before motioning with his arms for you to go before him. "Get to stepping."
-
You had spent most of the walk back to your place in silence. You didn't want to be the first to talk, and Matthew wasn't over your dramatic retelling of the butterfly story.
You didn't mind it though, after a week full of his yapping, you weren't that interested in getting him started again.
"You do have your key on you, right?" He said as you both approached the door. "Last thing we need is to get locked out."
"Do you have, like, zero faith in me?" You turned to ask him as you slid your hand into the tiny pocket of your shorts, pulling out a single key.
"Do you not own something to put the key on?" Matthew questioned as if you were insane.
"In this outfit?" You asked as if it was the dumbest statement on earth. "It would stick out and look gross." You frowned, trying, and failing, to stick the key in properly.
"You always look gross." He mumbled before taking the key from you and easily sliding it in to unlock the door.
"The rest of the keychain is right there." You mumbled as you walked past him and flopped onto the couch, the alcohol in your system starting to set in.
He rolled his eyes before reattaching the key onto the ring before turning back to you.
"You could just give me your keys next time, y'know?" His hands were gently trying to slide your shoes off without pulling too hard. "I have pockets that aren't two millimeters deep."
"That would require talking to you." You sighed, pulling your leg back to help him get the shoes off. "You haven't been the easiest to do that with."
He'd never minded when you dated people, and of course, he's yet to have anything more than a one-night stand with anyone so you never had the chance to care. But you never minded his sexcapades. You were happy, in fact. He was finally comfortable enough in his own skin to talk to women. How could you hate that? But the back and forth between being supportive of your situationships and then being upset was messing with you.
Hanbin wasn't the first time it had happened, but it was definitely the most committed he'd been in attempting to sabotage.
The first time it happened was about two years ago. You had just started college and someone from class had asked you out to coffee. Matthew insisted on hiding out to make sure he wasn't a creep, and you couldn't believe him. Nor talk him out of it.
When the guy did turn out to be a creep, you didn't hear the end of it.
"I told you so."
"What do you think would have happened if I wasn't there?"
"Can't you just say, 'thank you' and move on?"
That marked the beginning of Matthew's wishy-washy behavior towards your love life.
You'd be thankful if he wasn't such a dick about it.
"Don't tell me you passed out on me." He spoke up after putting your shoes away. You must have been too busy in your thoughts to realize he got the other one off. "I can't let you fall asleep on the couch, you're gonna kill me."
When he saw you were awake, he tilted his head.
"What's on your mind?" He asked. "You're not saying something bitchy."
You tiredly rolled your eyes.
"I'd say you're on my mind but your ego's too big for that."
"There she is." He smiled before reaching a hand out. "Let me get you to bed and you can cuss me out all you want."
"I'd rather fight you." You crossed your arms and rolled over to face the back of the couch so he couldn't help you up. "I'll sleep here. You sleep on the bed."
"You'd lose." He started before trying to roll you back over. "And remember the last time I let you sleep on the couch? You blamed me for the kink in your neck for a week."
You continued fighting him, wanting nothing more than for him to just go to bed in the other room. If you looked at him, you were scared you'd let everything out.
"I'm drunk, you know. The more you shake me, I might throw up on you."
"Nothing you haven't done before."
His response was quick and for some reason, it pissed you off more.
"Do you have an answer for everything?" You turned towards him.
And just your luck.
You turned at the same time that he pulled you.
Leading your face to end right in front of his.
It wasn't your intention, but you couldn't speak. You could only offer a small hiccup.
The silence felt suffocating as you both stared at each other. No words. No sounds.
Just another hiccup.
"I'm no better than Hanbin if I do what I want to right now." He whispered but his voice was mildly strained, as if he was holding himself back.
Maybe it was the alcohol, but the sudden closeness threw you off. You couldn't think, you couldn't speak, and you barely managed to hear what he just said.
Barely.
"This is your last chance to pick between the bed and the couch." He said, his voice just above a whisper this time. "Because I'll take the bed and lock you out."
You quickly slid out from under him and gave a small 'night' as you rushed to your room and closed the door. You barely made it to the bed before you dragged your hands down your face.
What the fuck was that?
Who the fuck were you?
And what the fuck did he mean by that?
You quickly threw on some sleeping clothes and got into bed. You were slightly dizzy but now that you were laying down, all you had to do was close your eyes and hope what he said was just the alcohol talking.
-
When your eyes opened your room was still dark. You sighed in relief as that meant it was still night.
Your throat was dry, and you weighed the possibilities of Matthew still being awake and you dying of thirst. You patted around for your phone and cringed when you saw the bright "4:57" flash across your screen.
It was highly possible he was awake.
But you also felt like a dry sponge.
Fuck it.
You slowly opened the door and tried to move as quietly as possible.
"Matthew?" You called out in a whisper, hoping he wouldn't answer. "You awake?"
When there was no answer, you quickened your pace.
As you slowly opened the fridge door, the last words he said to you lingered in your head. You didn't know if you imagined it or not, but there was no harm in venting to deaf ears, right?
"What did you mean by what you said earlier?" You whispered as you grabbed a water bottle and closed the door, sliding down it to sit on the floor. "Why do you give me mixed signals all the time?" Your voice was quieter this time, as if his dream self would hear you.
It was the most cliché thing around and you hated it. 'Best friends to lovers', 'childhood friends to lovers', 'friends who secretly love each other', and of course the 'unrequited love towards your best friend' trope.
The thought alone made you gag. They were the oldest in the book.
You had to be better than that, right?
Right?
You couldn't pinpoint exactly when your feelings towards him strayed away from platonic, but what you did know was that he wasn't making it any easier.
"Y/n?" He sleepily called out and you moved to sit behind the counter.
Wait.
This was your place.
Why were you hiding?
"Just getting some water." You spoke before clearing your throat. "Go back to bed."
You closed your eyes at how stupid the situation was. Could you be anymore cliché?
"It's like, five in the morning?" He sounded closer and you thought about booking it back to your room. "Why are you on the floor?"
You looked up and he was rubbing his eyes. Even in the dark you could see his messy hair and you felt your heart jump.
"Floor time?" You tried.
"Floor time?" He repeated, standing in the same spot as his eyes continued to adjust. "That's evening activities, not early morning."
You tried your best to bring out the feisty so you looked normal to him.
"I was dizzy from drinking, can't I sit on my own floor?"
"Do you just hate me or something?" He said. "Or did you hear what I said last night?" He scoffed. "Is this your way of drawing a line?"
Shit.
"What are you talking about?" You said as you got up and put some space between you. "I didn't hear anything."
"Liar." He took a step. "You heard me."
You took a step back.
"I think you're still drunk." You tried. "Talk to me when you're sober." You moved to push past him, but he moved in front of you.
"You drank more than me last night and you know it."
"Don't." You started. "It's not my fault you don't know how to have fun." You tried to walk around him and failed again.
"There's no one here to impress with your little tough act so just drop it." He said. "Let's just talk about what I said."
"Tough act?" You stepped back. "I've always had more balls than you and you know it." You crossed your arms. "Mr. Butterfly phobia."
Even in the dark you could see him roll his eyes.
"Do I still look like the kid you met in second grade?" He took a step towards you, and you took one back. "Do you really still see me as that same kid?" He took another step, as did you, the corner of the table stopping you. "Because I don't see you that way." He took a final step before his eyes traveled lower. "Especially in those fucking shorts."
You quickly stared up at him.
"If you're fucking with me, it isn't funny." Your voice shook as you spoke. You moved to walk past him, but he placed his arms on either side of you, caging you in.
"I'm not fucking with you." He said lowly. "And I heard you earlier." He said.
"I didn't say anything." You weren't one to give in so easily, especially when it didn't benefit you. "Hanbin wants to meet for lunch. If I want any chance at looking decent I need more sleep." You were lying out of your ass but you hoped it would work.
You moved to push his arm but it wasn't moving.
"Hanbin?" His voice was an angry kind of low. "Do you even know what he thinks about you?"
He didn't give you a chance to respond before continuing.
"Do you know how much shit Hanbin's been talking about you? And how much I've had to try and save your feelings by getting you to leave him alone?" He pushed himself off the table. "Sugarcoating this whole situation so you wouldn't be left crying over some fuckface who can't keep his dick to himself?"
You were about to respond when he continued.
"She's so easy." He mocked with air-quotes. "A few outings, a couple fucks, a gift here and there. Now she thinks I'm a changed man." He went on, acting out what you assumed to be Hanbin's exact movements.
He wasn't looking at you as he got caught up in his feelings and you were glad. Even in the dark, you were sure he'd be able to make out your expressions. Your own feelings were coming up and if he wasn't in front of you, you'd have run back to your room.
"She's so stupid." He said the word like it hurt to come out. "Can you believe she thinks I'd actually date her? Why give up my roster for her of all people?"
"You can stop now." You grit your teeth, tears threatening to spill. You didn't expect much out of Hanbin, but hearing what he had to say about you hurt more than it should have.
"I know better?" He repeated your statement from before as he ran his tongue along the inside of his lip, his jaw tensing as he leaned back in. "And what do I know exactly, y/n?" He paused. "That I'm always right and that you never want to listen?"
"But you know better?" He changed his tone, still copying your statements from before. "Just what do you know?"
"I know that you're a dick." You started, gathering all the strength in you to push past him. "And that you are just as bad as Hanbin."
You didn't wait to hear a response before you rushed back to your room and locked the door.
-
You thought falling back asleep would refresh your mind but all you did was toss and turn until the sun finished setting. It didn't help that your head had started to hurt.
You sighed as you pulled your blankets off and sat up, the pain in your head intensifying slightly. You made your way to your restroom, and quickly grabbed the bottle of pain reliever before turning the faucet on to scoop some water with your hand. You quickly popped the pill in and threw your head back. Your first attempt left you gagging, everything but the pill going down. Your second attempt was more successful.
You sighed as you were left with the unpleasant taste. You knew you'd be fucked if you didn't wash it out, but you also knew you'd be fucked if Matthew kept up his attitude from before.
You reluctantly made your way out of the room.
"One would think we live together with how often you're here." You mumbled as he sat at your table eating a bagel. You would have grabbed one, too, if the bag wasn't so close to him. You settled on some juice.
It wasn't out of the norm for him to take care of you the day after you drank, but of all the days, you really wished he'd just go home.
"People already think we're dating." He mumbled back. "It would make sense to them if we lived together." He said before getting up.
"With how much we fight, people think we're siblings." You corrected, more to yourself. "No couple acts like we do."
"Well, most couples already know the other person likes them." He said flatly.
"What's that supposed t-"
"You know exactly what I mean." He cut you off. "How many times are we going to go back and forth like this?" He sighed as he looked towards you. "You know I like you."
The silence settled and you knew you should have been jumping at the chance to say something but part of this just felt like some sick joke.
"You even asked about mixed signals that I tried to clear up and you ran away." He continued his rant. "If you don't want me just fucking say that."
The silence took over again and you wanted to kick yourself. You wanted to tell him his shitty way of clearing things wasn't the move he thought it was. You wanted to tell him that him pretty much calling you an idiot wasn't going to get him anywhere. But the words just weren't coming out.
Why was this so difficult?
"Fine. You want me gone?" He said as he stood up. "I'm going."
You bit your tongue as you watched him grab his stuff before heading to the door. He reached for the knob.
Fuck it.
"And if I do still see you as the same kid I met in elementary?" You called out, feeling a minor surge of victory as his arm fell. "It's not like you've ever acted like anything other than that."
You could hear him scoff but he didn't turn around.
"I mean, you bicker like one." You said. "You beat around the bush like one."
"And you don't?" He said, his back still facing you. "You refuse to listen like one." He started his own list as he finally turned towards you. "And if you're left to your own devices, you get in trouble."
"I may not listen but at least I can say things with my chest." You admitted. "You can't be upset that I don't see you as a man when you've never acted like one."
He dropped his stuff where he was standing, his jaw tensing as he watched you.
"Look who's beating around the bush now."
He took a step.
"This is your way of trying to get me to do something, isn't it?"
Another step.
He was nowhere near you, but the act still made you back up. Talk about déjà vu, but this was different with the lights on.
"I've barely taken two steps towards you, and you can't even handle that." He scoffed. "Maybe I don't 'act like a man' around you because you can't handle it."
Your eyes narrowed at him.
"I can." You challenged. "Hanbin can attest to that." You let a smirk form on your lips as you watched his reaction. Sure, he was a dick, but you meant what you said. And you weren't going to pass up a chance to throw something back at Matthew. "Just admit you're not man enough to act on it."
You were fully aware your words were not matching your actions, but you couldn't back down. This is how your arguments always went.
Faking it 'til you make it.
"Then come here." He motioned with his finger.
You watched as he flicked his finger, and you felt your legs stiffen.
"I'll act on it if you do." He said simply. "I'm scared if I take another step you might stumble." He smirked.
His mocking tone urged you to walk forward, even if everything inside of you screamed to stay still. Every step was a different statement running through your mind.
There's no going back if you do this.
Your relationship won't be the same.
Can you handle losing him if things go south?
The second you were in front of him, though, the way his smirk grew had your mind going blank. His hand reached up to your face, his index finger raising your chin so you were looking up at him.
He leaned in slowly, his thumb moving to rest on your chin and keep you in place.
Your heartbeat was in your ears as his lips finally pressed against yours. It didn't take long for you to kiss him back, your hand coming up to hold onto the wrist of the hand that was supporting your chin.
You could feel him smirk against you before pulling away.
"How's that for beating around the bush?" He whispered as his lips hovered above yours, eye contact never breaking as the hand that was holding your chin moved to the back of your neck. Your hand sliding towards his forearm with the new position.
"Am I supposed to believe a tiny kiss is 'doing something'?" You batted your lashes. "Is this as manly as you get?"
"All you ever do is talk shit, you know that, right?" He smirked as he took a step forward, his other hand coming around to catch you when you backed up.
"It's my specialty." You fought the urge to stumble on your words. "Don't act like you don't love it."
He pulled you closer and the warmth that you met forced a gasp from you.
"Wanna see just how much I love it?" He whispered as his hand traveled to your lower back.
You didn't trust your voice this time. All you could give him was a nod.
"Look at how much better it is when you just listen." He said as he dipped his head down to press a kiss to your jaw, his head nudging yours to the side so he could continue to your neck. "If you spent less time fighting me, I could spend more time making you feel good."
You felt a shiver run down your spine when he kissed a certain spot and you felt him smirk before biting lightly. Your hand that was resting on his arm was now tightening around it.
You wanted to say something but the feeling of his hand that was resting behind you moving under your shirt made you forget what you were going to say.
"Can I touch you?" He whispered, his hand inching closer to your breasts.
You nodded and he stopped. He pulled away and looked down at you.
"Say it."
You could feel your face heat up as the words got stuck in your throat.
"What happened to saying things with your chest, hm?" He hummed, clearly amused at how quickly you seemed to forget your little speech. "Or were you just trying to get me upset?" He gave you a mocking pout.
"You're just a brat." He said, his hand slowly inching back up, the side of his thumb grazing the side of your breast, but not fully touching you. "Acting like you don't want someone who'll just do whatever they want with you." His hand moved under your breast, keeping the same small distance.
Your mind was fuzzy as his hand traveled across your chest to the opposite side. You wanted to admit it, but you were more focused on trying to arch into his touch, a move that he couldn't help but laugh at.
"Even now you're still trying to beat around the bush." He smirked as he pulled his hand away, reveling in how your face fell. "Admit it and I'll give you what you want."
You watched as he moved to lean against the back of the couch. He used his arms for support, and you couldn't help but marvel at the way they flexed.
"And you won't use it against me?" Your voice was smaller than before and you nearly cringed at yourself.
"Not in front of others." He gave you a smirk. "Can't have anyone else thinking you'll act like this for them."
The comment had you trying to hit his shoulder in retaliation but he was quick to grab it.
"I'd play nice while I'm playing nice." He looked down at you.
The way his hand gripped your wrist had you swallowing hard.
"And if I don't want to?" Your voice was still small, but he had to respect your will to keep up the act.
"We can chill like this and stare at each other all day." He smiled sweetly.
The hand that was holding your wrist pulled you into him again.
"We can stay," He paused, his free hand grabbing your other wrist and pinning them both in his hand. "Right. Here." He cocked his head to the side with an innocent smile.
You were holding eye contact more out of spite this time and his hand was back on you, but over your clothes this time.
"Y'know." He started, never breaking eye contact with you as his hands were more committed this time. That damned smile coming back when your body reacted. "I always figured you'd be all bark, no bite." His fingers softly ran over your nipple, and you let out a sigh. "I just thought you'd be begging by now." He said before lightly pinching it.
Your hands instinctively moved, but he kept them in place.
"I also thought you'd be feistier." He chuckled. "But you must really want something if you're not fighting like you usually do." His hand moved to give your other nipple attention. "I bet you want nothing more than for me to bend you over this couch." His words were emphasized with a harsher pinch, and you were embarrassed by the moan that slipped out of you.
He was barely touching you and your legs were already squeezing together.
"You'd like that wouldn't you, baby?" He smiled, his hands pulling your wrists so you were back to being right in front of him. "Just say the word."
You licked your lips before parting them, but as his gaze was more intense, you froze.
"Come on, pretty girl." He coaxed, his hand moving to pet your hair. "Tell me how much of a brat you are." His finger ran over your cheek. "How you talked all that shit just to rile me up." He whispered as he ran his finger over your lower lip. "Tell me how bad you want me."
He was talking so sweetly that you couldn't hold back anymore.
"Please," You whimpered. "Stop teasing."
"You know how to make me stop." He said simply. "Be a good girl and tell me what I wanna hear."
"I want you." You broke. "I want you so bad, please." You whimpered, hands tugging against his hold. "If I'd known you were like this, I'd never have acted up, I swear."
"'Like this'?" He quoted with a raised brow. "And what am I like, pretty girl?"
"Matthew, please." You whined and tugged against his hold again, but he only pulled you impossibly closer.
"What did I say about playing nice?" His voice was lower and you wanted nothing more than to take back everything you said in the past twenty-four hours.
"I didn't think you'd.." You trailed off, suddenly feeling small under his gaze. "Act like this." You swallowed. "...I thought you'd just give me what I want."
"Good girl." He smiled sweetly. "Now apologize for making this harder than it needed to be."
"I-I'm sorry."
"Tell me you want me." He licked his lips. "I'll give in if you tell me one more time." He smirked. "You just sound so pretty asking for me."
All trace amounts of shame that were in you were long gone as you practically begged him to do something.
He was quick to pull you back in for a kiss, his hand releasing your wrist and opting to rest on your ass before giving a harsh squeeze, your moan acting as encouragement. He moved the both of you around the sofa so he could sit, and you happily straddled his lap and hovered, wanting nothing more than for his hands to have room to do whatever they wanted. Your hands grabbed the sides of his face, the need to just touch him taking over.
It was as if he were making up for lost time the way his hands roamed over you before slipping into your pajama shorts from one of the leg holes, the action coaxing a gasp from you.
His fingers slowly slipped under your panties, and he moaned as he slid his fingers towards your clit.
He wanted to make a comment about how wet you were from the bare minimum. He wanted to ask why you were so needy. He wanted to pull away and make a comment about how right you were that he didn't know what a clit was just to make you squirm. He wanted to tell you to beg him to touch you. But the way you sounded was too good for him to want to interrupt. He could talk his shit later.
He was slow and steady with circling your clit as if you weren't nearly dripping. You were sure he could slide into you completely and you'd be more than fine.
"Don't tease." You whispered, your head dropping onto his shoulder.
"Making sure you can take me is teasing?" He chuckled, his finger moving to slide into you. "The last thing you need to bark about it how much you can take." His tone was serious, but you really couldn't handle the foreplay.
"Matthew, I damn near came untouched from you holding me still, just fuck m-" You were cut off as a moan was ripped from you when he roughly inserted two more fingers.
"I told you to play nice twice already." He growled, his hand coming up to grab your hair and make you look at him, the sight of you with your mouth hanging open making him twitch in his pants. "I don't ask three times."
Your legs tried to close but you fucked yourself over when you climbed over his lap.
"You're going to cum from this, then apologize." He told you sternly, his fingers alternating from fast pumps to slow. "If it's a good apology, I'll fuck you like you so desperately want me to." His eyes were back on you. "Is that understood?"
You nodded, but the way his thumb ran over your clit had the words spilling out of you.
"Yes, sir." You whined as the title came out, your eyes screwing shut in partial embarrassment. It was the last thing you wanted him to know.
"And here I thought you were a 'daddy' kinda girl." He smirked as his hold on your hair moved you so he could lean in and press more kisses against your neck, leaving small bites when he felt like it.
"Matthew, please, I'-"
"Ask sir for permission." You could feel him smirk against your neck and you couldn't help but clench. "If you cum without permission, I won't fuck you at all."
"Please, sir, can I cum?" You were glad he couldn't see you. You knew the way the tears were welling your eyes that he'd never let you live it down. "I need to cum, sir, so bad."
And just like that, your luck ran out as he pulled away to look at you.
"Look at me when you cum." His thumb was back on your clit and your body twitched. "If you close your eyes, I'm leaving."
You reluctantly opened your eyes. You didn't need to be told twice if it meant you could let go, your eyes nearly closing from the pleasure. You managed to keep them at a questionable squint, and you hoped Matthew would be okay with it.
As he slid his fingers out of you, your body fell completely onto him. The rough hand in your hair was now softly petting as you tried to catch your beath.
"Now where's that apology?" He said softly when he felt you calm down.
"I'm sorry for not being nice." You'd be ashamed of yourself if he didn't just fuck you up with his fingers alone. Maybe he deserved some sincerity. "I won't make you repeat yourself again, sir."
"Hmm," He hummed as he pretended to think on it. "Do you think you deserved to cum so quickly?"
"No, sir." You shook your head. "Thank you for letting me."
You were starting to fear the heat on your face was now permanent. How were you supposed to move on from this? The idea of maintaining a friendship was gone, but how were you supposed to even look at him after this?
"Do you still want me to bend you over the couch or would you rather stay right here?"
You whined against him at the way he phrased it.
"You'll call me 'sir' but I can't ask where you want it?" He laughed his usual laugh and your heart fluttered. "Come on," He moved you off of him and took his shirt off. "We can do missionary and you can stare at me all you want."
It was your turn to laugh.
"As much as I'd love more eye contact," You chuckled. "I'll take my chances over the couch."
"Don't blame me if you fall off." He smirked.
"Are you saying you'd let me fall?" You gave him your best puppy dog eyes. "That's not very nice, sir."
Instead of words, he grabbed you and pushed you over the back of the couch, your knees steady against the back of the sofa. You were glad to not be looking at him, but something about not knowing what he'd do first was getting to you.
You lightly flinched when your felt his hands at your waist, his hands hooking both your shorts and underwear into his grasp before he pulled them down.
"As much as I'd love to just push them to the side, I don't want to ruin such cute pajamas." You couldn't see him licking his lips as the pieces of clothing landed on your knees.
He ran his hands over your legs, his eyes trained on how goosebumps trailed behind his touch.
"Do you know how many times I thought about this?" He whispered as he took in the scene in front of him. It was more to himself, and he wasn't expecting an answer, but when you spoke up, he couldn't contain himself.
"Don't hold back, then." You whispered. "I'm all yours right now."
You felt a sharp slap on your ass and you hissed.
"You're all mine from now on." He said before slapping the opposite cheek.
The words had you clenching around nothing. You wanted nothing more than to ask him to fuck you, but you were scared he'd get upset again.
"Say it." He said, the sound of his pants shifting filling the silence after the question.
"I'm yours, sir." You repeated. "Always."
You felt him move behind you and place a hand on your back. It wasn't long before you felt him run himself along your folds, the pressure on your clit making your hips buck.
It didn't take long until you felt him teasingly slip himself inside just to pull out, then repeat, pushing himself deeper and deeper with every thrust.
"Fuck," He groaned once he bottomed out, the hand on your back balling into a fist.
"Please," You moaned as you clenched around him. "Matthew, I need you."
The desperation in your voice as you said his name was enough to pull him from his thoughts.
"I'll take it that we really can't go back from this." He groaned as his hands moved to grip your hips for support.
"You're literally inside me, why are you bringing this up," You whined as you gripped the sofa. He would bring up the most irrelevant shit.
"Because -fuck- I need to know this isn't a one-time thing." His voice was strained.
Of all the times to get emotional.
"It will be if you don't shut up." You bit back a moan when his hips sped up. "I'm trying to enjoy this." Your hand reached behind you and without asking, he was quick to hold on.
The interaction was enough to make your stomach tighten, and it wasn't long before you opened you mouth in a failed attempt to ask for permission to let go. He could feel you getting closer and spoke up for you.
"You don't have to, y/n." He ran his finger over your hand. "Just let go."
The gesture had your legs shaking and it confused you. You weren't one to come undone from gentleness in bed. Yet, here you were, Matthew's name falling off your lips as you tried to catch your breath. When he groaned your name as he came, you swore you could cum again on the spot.
When you both calmed down, he slowly pulled out and wrapped his hands around you to pull you off the back of the couch. He moved the both of you so you were laying down, but you moved so you were on his side instead of his chest.
There was a strange silence that took over and you started to wonder if he was regretting it. There was nothing wrong with crossing the line, but what if the realization took over that he couldn't uncross the line? Sure, he mentioned it, but what if that was a heat-of-the-moment thing to say?
As if he read your mind, he spoke up.
"Tell me this wasn't a one-time thing." He looked down at you while his thumb ran lines over your hip.
Maybe it wasn't a heat-of-the-moment type thing.
"Do you think I'd embarrass myself for a one-night stand?" You raised a brow. "After everything you made me say, it better not be a one-time thing."
"And just how did you embarrass yourself?" He chuckled. "The begging? The tears? Screaming my name?"
"You wish I screamed your name." You rolled your eyes. "Be nice or I'm locking you out."
"You'd let me back in." He challenged.
"You sure about that?" You raised a brow.
"Of course, I am." He smirked.
"You listen to me so well."
64 notes · View notes
rainbowhao · 10 hours
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we're just friends, right? ♡ beomgyu
genre: fluff/pining ⭒ word count: 0.8k ⭒ part 1
synopsis: the line between friends and lovers is blurred
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it didn’t help that you were always clingy towards beomgyu. everyone was convinced you were dating and the more-than-friendly actions only made things worse. it’s just that you were a little touchy, that’s all. so what if you stared at each other longer than deemed normal? it’s not like you were in love with him or something.
only now, you weren't so sure.
“yeonjun said something about us again.” you only mentioned it to see his reaction. your fingers had resumed tracing his skin, the two of you lying there as if it was entirely normal to wake up in the same bed together.
gyu’s mouth quirked at this. “what’d you say?”
“to worry about his own love life.”
he chuckled. “still won’t let it go. even soobin’s been on me more than usual.”
“yeah?” you tried not to appear too interested. 
he hummed. “wouldn't it be funny if we actually started dating, though? imagine their reactions.” 
“yeah, funny.” you didn’t have it in you to laugh. as you examined the little bears on his pajamas, mouth downturned, beomgyu looked over at you hopefully.
catching a cold only furthered your confusion. your best friend had been quick to bundle you up and tuck you into his own bed (he’d insisted you stay at the dorm to make things easier). did whatever you needed—brought you soup, ran a warm bath—and even in your delirious state, his gentle hair stroking had your heart racing.
“that feel good, baby?” beomgyu asked softly. you were watching him through half-lidded eyes. he didn’t even seem to notice the nickname slip. a washcloth dabbed at your forehead, his fingers gently moving aside your damp hair.
[a/n: had to set my phone down after this one] 
then there was the fact that every time he offered to buy you a treat, he’d smear a little ice cream on your cheek. it was a harmless gesture—you’d glare at him, he’d hand you a napkin—only this time, he was a little bolder, loud laughter fading into seriousness.
“i'll get it,” he told you. 
you were entirely still as he wiped away the sticky substance with the pad of his thumb. he took his time, body close to yours and expression filled with nothing but adoration.
you were about to swat him away with how long he looked. “what?” you sighed.
“nothing,” gyu said quickly before licking his finger.
you narrowed your eyes. “why are you staring?” 
he ignored this. “i want a taste of yours.” his attention was now directed at the strawberry cone. but when you tried to hand it to him, he shook his head. “feed it to me.”
so you brought the ice cream to his lips; your hand was shaky as you did so. heat filled your chest as you glanced around nervously. there was no one else around to see the tender act—just the boy who stood patient with long fluttering eyelashes and a mouth parted.
“yum.” he swallowed, tongue licking away the remaining drops in the corner of his lips after finishing the (very large) bite he’d taken. you had to force yourself to look away. 
“actually, i lied.” beomgyu confessed a minute later.
you were finishing your cone. “huh?”
“i didn’t really want your ice cream. i mean—i wanted to taste something else.” he stumbled before eventually falling silent, eyes widening in realization. “shit, that came out wrong. hold on.”
the thing about beomgyu was that whenever he was embarrassed, he’d get the urge to bury his face in the crook of your neck—press his burning cheeks against your skin and squeeze his eyes shut. even now, in the middle of the park, was no exception. 
“gyu,” you laughed, hand automatically finding his back, “what are you doing?”
“hiding,” he grumbled. “i’m messing this up.”
you patted him lightly. “what do you mean? can’t you just tell me?”
his response was muffled.
“a little louder,” you urged.
“ah, seriously,” beomgyu huffed before pulling back. you could hear him loud and clear now. “i said i want to kiss you , not eat your dumb ice cream.”
somewhere along the way, the long-running joke about you and beomgyu secretly liking each other had become entirely real. suddenly, it didn’t feel so far out of reach—you and him dating.
“you,” you gulped, “you want to—”
“please don’t make me say it again,” he pleaded. with a defeated sigh, his head lulled forward til  his forehead gently knocked yours. “can’t keep pretending anymore.”
his skin was warm, white shirt billowing in the afternoon breeze. his hands gripped your waist like he was scared you would run away. your palm came up to press flat against his chest, eyes fluttering closed. you could feel his rapid heartbeat. 
“me either,” you said honestly.
“would love to see the looks on their faces.” he smirked. “maybe this will finally shut them up.”
beomgyu wasted no time taking your lips in his. his kisses were soft and needy, fingers pressing into your sides. neither of you could stop smiling, eventually pulling away just to giggle in each other’s arms because you were so happy.
“if you think i was clingy before,” you’re grinning now, “prepare to be absolutely smothered.”
51 notes · View notes
aika-starlight · 1 day
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꒰ :🥀'':🍓"♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ: ℐ𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒷ℯℯ𝓃 𝓎ℴ𝓊↷ ⋯
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🍒*. : 。✿ * ゚ * .: 。 ✿ * ゚ * . : 。 ✿ * *. : 。✿ * ゚ * .: 。 ✿ * ゚ * . : 。 ✿ *🍒
。ₓ ू ˚🥀- Preview: It was always you... You were the only one, the only one I loved and still love. But... Suddenly you were gone, you disappeared so quickly... It seems like you forgot me...
1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47
.・゜-: ✧ :- 🎀 -: ✧ :-゜・.🎀 .・゜-: ✧ :- 🎀 -: ✧ :-゜・.
₍₍...₎₎❗ 🍁꒰ ❛ 16+ ❜ ꒱
*'•'‹🥀›Modern au
*'•'‹🍬› rocker! yuuji x reader
*'•'‹🥀›Some mentions of Itafushi
*'•'‹🌷› Everyone is of age in the story
゚+*:ꔫ:*﹤ 🌹 ﹥*:ꔫ:*+゚
°•⟩Reader is a girl.
°•⟩ This chapter will contain: Bullying, abusive parents, swearing, feelings of abandonment.
°•⟩English is not my first language, so sorry if some parts don't make sense.
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˚ ༘✶ ⋆˚🫧𝟎𝟏˚ ༘✶ ⋆ ˚
.
.
🥀› I love Yuuji Itadori, my first love and my only one to this day...
I remember so clearly the first time I laid eyes on him. It was summer, I had just moved to the neighborhood, my mother told me to have fun in a nearby park since I wasn't helping at all.
When I arrived at the park, my eyes immediately lit up, so many cool toys, kids running around and having fun. It was my dream since almost no children lived in my old neighborhood, it was so boring to live there and my parents didn't improve the experience at all.
But this happy atmosphere ended very quickly... The older children who called themselves "owners of the park" didn't like me, they called me a snobby rich girl. My cute stuffed bunny was completely covered in mud, the girls were pulling my hair while the boys were kicking my shins. It was horrible, I don't even know how long I was stabbed.
Magically, I didn't feel anything anymore, but it was because of him, he kicked those bullies in the ass, the vision I had of him that day was magical... I was so embarrassed, my insides bubbled and my face immediately heated up.
I gently took his hand while I thanked him and he just smiled and complimented my dress that was filled with strawberries, he said he loved strawberries and that he liked me for that, for liking me too...
I remember that I spent the whole afternoon playing with him, it was the most incredible afternoon of my life, I was so happy that I didn't even care about my mother's unnecessary scolding and to top it off I talked about him throughout dinner.
After that, Yuuji became one of my favorite people... We were inseparable, everything he did, I did.
We went to the same elementary school and honestly that made me lose my fear of school, because I knew that with Yuuji by my side I didn't need to be afraid of anything, he would protect me.
At my 6th birthday party, Yuuji was the only one who attended, he told me that we didn't need anyone else since we had better fun alone. I knew he didn't want me to be upset, but deep down, it was true.
And Yuuji didn't lie, we had a lot of fun alone.
In elementary school I realized that I loved Yuuji, more than a friend, it was something romantic... That's when I started making lunches for him, his parents were working a lot lately so it ended up that Yuuji ran out of snacks and the school food didn't work. It was one of the best, as I had always made my own meals since I was little, I didn't see any problem with doubling the quantity.
The first time I handed Yuuji the lunch box, with the cloth decorated with stars and the rice in the shape of a cute rabbit, I saw his cheeks turn red and his eyes sparkled, he smiled widely and gave me a big hug. .
As we were eating, I realized I wanted to see him look like this more often.
Yuuji was excited on his own, but this time it seemed so different... I never knew why...
Once Yuuji invited me to his house to play with the hose, I went, how could I not go?
All I know is that it was incredible, Yuuji's family was a thousand times cooler than mine, they let us have fun.
Yuuji's father was calm and sometimes even joined us in light games, Yuuji's mother was affectionate, she made lots of delicious sweets when I went there and there were also his brothers, Sukuna, 16 years old, he was very grumpy. and angry (Yuuji said he was like his grandfather), he was never at home when I visited Yuuji and there was Choso, his 15 year old brother, he was already cooler than Sukuna, but he liked to stay in his room. But sometimes Yuuji and I would go in just to listen to him play his guitar.
On that hose bath day, I remember Yuuji said he would marry me, because I was his best friend and we should be together forever. After that I couldn't sleep for happiness.
Yes! I would marry Yuuji.
.
.
.
.
Or maybe not...
.
.
.
One day Yuuji simply didn't come to class, which was very strange since he always warned me by calling me on my home phone. And I didn't get any that morning...
When leaving school I chose to go to Yuuji's house before going to my...
But it was so empty and no one answered the door.
A tall woman came up to me and asked if I was lost, I replied saying that she was waiting for my friend.
She just replied "Oh..."
I didn't understand why it sounded so sad...
She told me that the Itadori family was not living but in the house, it seems that Yuuji's grandfather was very sick and the family was looking for treatment outside of Sendai, as it didn't exist here... A week ago they had gotten a treatment in Tokyo and a place to stay too, it turned out that today they definitely moved there.
I was so scared, my best friend is gone, I'm going to go back to being a girl alone again...
I only know that that day I ran home and locked myself in my room...
When I calmed down and went out to dinner, my mother told me that Yuuji had stopped by before he moved and had left his mother's phone number so that we could continue to keep in touch.
I was happy.
As I didn't have a phone, I used my mother's, with a lot of effort she gave in, when I heard Yuuji's voice I felt relieved. And the feeling of loneliness soon went away.
Whenever I left school he would call me, he would tell me everything about his new school and I would tell him about how mine was, we talked for about 3 hours a day, if my mother didn't stop me it would be more than that.
But one day he stopped calling me, that one day turned into a week, which turned into 4, which at the end of the conversation turned into 2 months without calling me.
I called, but no one answered...
It was from that moment on that our only means of contact ended...
.
.
.
.
Spending the rest of elementary school without Yuuji was horrible, I wondered if he had already found new people to replace me, or if he even missed me... I was without friends. There were some girls who exchanged a few words with me, but it wasn't enough to be considered friends.
At the end of elementary school and the beginning of high school, I received a phone as a gift.
The first thing I did was install social networks to try to find Yuuji.
I searched everywhere for his name... But I couldn't find it... One of those guys was him...
I kept thinking that maybe he didn't have a cell phone, but his parents were so liberal that it's quite possible he's had one for a long time.
.
.
.
When high school started I accepted that I lost Yuuji forever and that I would never see him again. Sometimes we just weren't meant to be together...
I just know that every year of my high school was shit, I ended up changing schools.
And for some reason the bullying returned, it was that trio type, where there is the leader who has god syndrome and the two servants who are only with the leader because she is "popular".
I think that all the offensive shit that exists I have already heard while living with it.
I begged to change schools, but my father said I'm just being cool and I can't handle "normal" teenage games, in the end I ended up becoming the stranger in the story.
The least my father did for me was put me in therapy, I think I'm only alive because of that, at a certain point in the first year of high school I was diagnosed with depression, it seems like since Yuuji left all the shit impossible to happen were happening.
I underwent treatment for depression and after two years I was finally cured... The anxiety still remained with me, it is no longer a big problem.
I decided to send my CV to colleges in Tokyo, Yokohama and Osaka, to study visual arts, thanks to the support of my psychologist.
My parents were against it, but I didn't care, I'm already of legal age.
I was surprised when I went to a college in Tokyo, it's called jujutsu, it's a very well-regarded college in Tokyo, it's one of the best.
Well, at least I'll start over...
.
.
.
I packed everything I had and went to Tokyo.
My classes start in 5 days, but I'm going to pack my things in the dorm first, college dorms are shared with one other person.
I was looking forward to meeting my roommate...
After a 2 hour flight I landed in Tokyo, unloaded my bags and took a taxi to college. The path was peaceful, I spent the entire trip looking at the Tokyo landscape wishing I had my camera in my hand to take photos.
In the middle of my treatment, my psychologist thought it would be a good idea for me to start photographing things, this ended up becoming a hobby.
When I arrived at college, I talked to the people in charge of the dorms, made an ID card and got my keys.
After a leisurely walk, I arrive at the door of my dorm and stop. I look at the door with butterflies in my stomach and start to unlock it.
The door opens and I start to look around, it's a simple but comfortable dorm, when I look around the room I see suitcases thrown on the living room floor, it's likely that my roommate is already here, I can feel the butterflies in my stomach again .
I walk a little around the living room and see that it is divided with the kitchen, the kitchen is simple and only has what is necessary, when I look in the left corner I see a hallway. Where there was access to two doors, that's where the bedrooms are, my roommate is probably already in his.
I go to the hallway and walk towards the left door, when I open the door the first thing I see is a woman and a man kissing. But it wasn't a simple kiss, it was making out, they noticed my presence since for some reason the door made a point of making a lot of noise, I feel my face heat up and I start to scream for forgiveness. I quickly close the door, still red, I feel like tears might come out of embarrassment.
Shit... I ruined someone's fuck.
I thought, what a great first impression to give your roommate, I run into the next room and lock the door in embarrassment.
How am I going to get out of here now?... I would like to stick my face in the ground.
After about 15 minutes I calmed down, I had already organized some things in my room, so I decided to go out to get a glass of water in the kitchen.
When I arrive in the room I see the two of them, they look at me and I look back at them, then the girl stands up and extends her hand to me. "A pleasure! I'm Kirara Hoshi, your roommate. I'm sorry about the scene you saw a while ago..." She rubs her neck nervously. "I thought this year I would be without one." I smile and take her hand. "No problem! My name is (Name) (last name), nice to meet you.”
She smiles widely. "I like you (nickname)! You're cute." She puts her arm around my neck and points to the man sitting there smiling. "This is Kin, Kinji Hakari, my boyfriend." He gives a small wave. "Nice to meet you." I say giving a wave of my hand.
Hakari and Kirara were cool, besides being stylish, Kirara was so beautiful that she felt a little envious. But we quickly hit it off, I was so happy about that, as our first impressions weren't that great.
Spending the last 5 days together, I learned a lot about her, she is studying performing arts and Hakari was studying financial management, but he had already finished some time ago, Kirara was in her final year.
I've never had so much fun for 5 days...
They went by so quickly that when I realized the next day my classes would already start.
.
.
.
I slowly open my eyes and realize that it's morning, I get up, still unconscious and go to the kitchen to get something to eat.
When I open the cupboard, the first thing I see is Kirara's cereal, she wouldn't mind if I got some...
I grab the bowl closest to me and pour in some of the cereal, adding milk right after. Soon after, I sit down and enjoy this food.
I look at the meal and think how childish this breakfast was, I accidentally ended up feeling nostalgic for my childhood.
I finish in a few minutes and then go get ready, in the bathroom I take a relaxing shower, then I brush my teeth, use my hairdryer and try to make my hair visually beautiful. I dress in a long-sleeved white blouse, with two buttons on the front to cover a little more cleavage, to match I wear a gray skirt that is a little voluminous, I put on beautiful white socks and to complement it I wear doll shoes.
I grab my bag with some jellyfish details and stars and head towards the door to leave.
.
.
.
When I enter college, I find the hallway full of people, it makes me nervous.
I could see people of all styles, and it always seems like everyone hangs out with their own little group, something I particularly hated.
It was a pain to go through them and it was even more annoying trying to find the room for my first class.
I arrived at my class early and got a comfortable seat, as the class hadn't started yet, I started doodling in my sketchbook. It was a very simple drawing of a whale.
When I start to paint with watercolors I hear someone praising my drawing, the voice came from my right, right in the empty space next to me. Scared, I look to the side and see a boy with black hair next to me, he had several piercings, in his ears, nose, mouth and cheek. His clothes had a style that gave off a rocker vibe, it was beautiful. His eyes were dark blue with incredibly large eyelashes, it was to be envied.
"Your painting of him matches your line very well..." He said pointing to the drawing.
I feel slightly embarrassed by the compliment, I'm not used to this kind of thing. "Thank you... It was a very quick drawing that I made..." I say smiling, a silence falls between us, so I ask. "Do you also draw?" And he shakes his head gently.
"Want to see them?" He says looking at me waiting for some kind of answer, I shake my head softly and move closer to him to see drawings of him.
He then takes a folder from his bag and opens it.
Even though his style is a little gothic, his drawings are so soft and beautiful, the colors were bright but at the same time soft. His drawings brought a strange sense of peace...
He had almost every class with me, so we spent a lot of time together. I later found out that his name was Megumi Fushiguro, but he preferred that I call him by his first name, Megumi.
Megumi had invited me to join him and his friends at lunch, I accepted.
I'm happy that things are different in Tokyo, but I still think that if Yuuji was here things would be a thousand times better... I remember our dream of living together, we had several dreams... Silly, childish dreams, but... It was so good to dream.
When classes ended, we went straight to the cafeteria. Megumi took me to an isolated table, according to him, he and his friends sat there.
Megumi had gone out to get food for us, I gave him money to pay my share, but he refused and said he would pay for both of us since he invited me to lunch. He had also told me that his friends would arrive soon, they didn't arrive.
So when Megumi came back he had a confused look, but he didn't care much. I asked why his friends didn't come and he just shook his shoulders and said "They must be up to something, I'd rather stay out." When he said that, I gave a simple laugh.
Lunch was fun, even though it may not seem like it, it was easy to talk to Megumi. After we finished eating, I thanked him for lunch and said goodbye, we wouldn't see each other again, since we had different classes. From what he told me, he seems to be studying two different courses, one visual arts and the other was Music.
He also told me that he and his friends had a metal band, which I thought was great, he noticed that I was enchanted and invited me to watch their rehearsal today after classes at the gym, I happily accepted, he asked me to I met him in the main hallway and he was going to take me to the gym.
After that we said goodbye.
.
.
.
.
After classes ended, I felt butterflies in my stomach... I was waiting for Megumi in the place he and I had agreed on.
He was late and after standing still for a long time reflecting, I realized that it would be a very annoying situation, since Megumi invited me without even contacting her friends... What if they don't like my presence?
I don't even want to imagine... Fortunately, Megumi arrives to stop any more negative thoughts.
We had a calm walk to the gym, when we were 3 meters away I could hear the sounds of the guitar and drums, it sounded insane.
Entering the gym I could see Megumi's friends playing, on the drums was a white-haired boy with purple eyes and some kind of tattoo near his lips. On the keyboard was a boy with black hair, his eyes were dark and deep, he had dark circles under his eyes showing that he had spent a few nights without sleeping. The female voice I heard was that of a girl, her hair was beautiful, red and silky, she had dark makeup on, her brown eyes shone as she released her beautiful voice. And along with the girl I hear a male voice, a boy with pink and brown hair... Just like Yuuji... My eyes become melancholic with the memory, the boy looked like him, even though he also wore a certain type of makeup... It was just like Yuuji, the pink-haired boy was rocking the guitar and giving him goosebumps.
It was then that with the sound of the gym door closing everyone looked towards me and Megumi. A girl with green hair and glasses walks towards us irritably, I can even hear the curses that haven't even been uttered yet.
"Megumi! Where were you? Why didn't you go to the cafeteria?!"
Said the girl irritated. Confused Megumi tilts her head.
"What coffee shop?" The girl sighs and looks irritated again. "The new cafeteria near the college, Yuta sent a message saying that we were going to have lunch there today." Megumi just looks at her and says that this Yuta guy hadn't warned her anything. The girl turns irritably to the black-haired boy, but immediately returns to Megumi.
"Why didn't you call us then?"
As she says this, the two vocalists approach, one of them being the boy who looks like Yuuji. They stand next to the green-haired girl. "I was with (Name), I ended up forgetting to call, sorry Maki..." He lied, he just didn't want to go out to look for them.
"Who the hell is (Name)?" He said the girl with red hair.
I raise my hand lightly "I'm (Name), nice to meet you..." I'm nervous, I'm very nervous...
"I met (Name) in the visual arts course..." The boy who looked like Yuuji seemed to examine me from top to bottom as he approached a little closer.
"I'm Yuuji Itadori, nice to meet you!" They extend their hand smiling.
.
.
.
.
.
"Yuuji?..." My body freezes, I can't move... My eyes widen in surprise, my vision becomes blurred. Impossible, it can't be him... He's so different, but the smile... It's still the same, warm and bright.
Does he remember me?... I feel tears coming down. And I see him get worried and whisper to the girl next to him.
"Do you remember me Yuuji?..."
I say looking at him smiling slightly, but he still doesn't seem to remember.
"(Name) (Surname)... It's me Yuuji and (Name)!"
His eyes widen in surprise, a smile growing on his face as he quickly grabs me.
"(Name)... How long..." He hugs me tightly and smells my hair.
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Next chapter>
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mixed-up-multiverse · 6 months
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@galaxyinfinitum sent: 🍰 Based on Dorian perchance perhaps mayhaps?
Holiday Cakes | Accepting until January!
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"Uhhh... h-here... I-I-I did the best I could with what I had, Mister..." She's nervously giving him the cake, it's amazing how her very-shaky hands aren't causing it to drop.
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fairyofshampgyu · 7 months
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Super shy !
genre: smut, baker au, college au, crack
Pairing: shy loser virgin bakery worker ! soobin x college customer ! reader
Warnings: sub soobin, dom reader, clubbing, loss of virginity, riding, hand job, titty groping (can’t be a Soobin smut without him being obsessed with boobies be fr), premature ejaculation,
word count: 2.9k
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As soon as you stepped into the newly established campus bakery, walking up to the counter and observing all the pastries, contemplating for a rather long time before you end up deciding on what you’d usually order anyway, Soobin couldn’t help feeling like his world got totally turned upside down. The sight of you rendering him completely speechless and unable to even think.
Time seemingly going by so slow like in the kdramas as your shiny hair majestically blows in the non existent wind inside, smile brightening up the entire bakery. He could practically see the roses blooming around your face like in the mangas. Was this love at first sight?!
Realistically, no.
But were you incredibly attractive to him and a breath of fresh air to the moody, stressed out college students that purchase a single coffee and stay for hours completing assignments with their backs concerningly hunched over? Hell yes.
And unfortunately for Soobin, he does not do well with pretty people. At all. Not realising you had even ordered, too in awe and preoccupied with taking in all your features until he’s snapped back to reality with the clearing of your throat and he can already feel his cheeks burning up horribly fast. Oh god. He really, really hopes it’s not evident right now.
“S-sorry…What did you say?” He begins apologising profusely to you, too embarrassed to even look you in the eyes, staring off more to the side. This was definitely not his best customer service.
With a chuckle, you brush it off and state your order again, “I said could I have the strawberry swirl cheesecake please?” If Soobin could look at himself in third person, he would so be face palming right now. Or better yet, maybe he could just go up and like, punch himself straight up or something for acting like such a loser.
“Ah right... That’s ₩7500. Cash or card?”
You pay with cash and Soobin, very nervously, fumbles around to garner the right amount of change to hand you, though doing it in the most awkward way possible and his palm makes direct contact with yours as he hands the money, making him blush even more and let out a small obvious gasp at the feeling of your soft hand. Oh my god. Why did he do that?! He really hopes you didn’t find that weird.
You only let out another chuckle, thanking him before you’re leaving the bakery in an elegant manner and Soobin is left to sigh and watch your back disappear. Damn it. He’ll probably never see you again. You were so pretty and so cute, too cute even-
“You’re such a virgin.”
His thoughts about you are abruptly dissipated by his coworker and unfortunately best friend, Choi Beomgyu who gives him the stupidest, most annoying grin he would definitely like to slap off his face right now.
“Just shut up.” Soobin grimaces and rolls his eyes at beomgyu, bringing a batch of freshly baked cookies out of the oven behind him and placing them into the display glass one by one.
"You’re pinker than the strawberry macarons we sell. That's saying something." Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at him with sass.
So does that mean you could see how flustered he was getting then? Oh no! Soobin clears his throat and narrows his eyes at beomgyu anyway. “Am not.”
“Are too! Anyway, all I’m saying is that interaction was painful to watch. You’re really giving pathetic, loser, virgin right now. I cant lie.” Beomgyu attempts to stifle in one of his obnoxious laughs.
Soobin is quick to snap back, "You've only ever slept with one person!"
"S-so!! At least im not a virgin!" Beomgyu’s cheeks also become the equivalent to the strawberry macarons as he scrambles to try and defend himself, brows furrowed and cheeks puffed.
“Well, the concept of a virgin is purely societal anyway. It doesn’t actually matter. It doesn’t mean anything really.” Soobin bitterly replies, continuing to work whilst his counterpart does completely nothing like most of the time. It's usually soobin that does work, remind him not to agree to beomyu's silly ideas of getting a job together ever again.
Beomgyu scoffs and snickers at this, "Whatever. You’re just saying all that to make yourself feel better because you’re a loser. LMAO"
"I’ll punch you right now."
"Then we'll both be fired~”
A poor customer still awaits at the counter to be served, standing in bewilderment and tiredness. Waiting for the two bakers to finish bickering and sighing as they don’t seem like they’re going to stop anytime soon.
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Soobin doesn’t expect to see you again, in complete honesty, he’s almost forgotten you even exist after you never come again. But he’s in luck and more than pleasantly surprised when he hears the bell to the door go ding!, indicating a customer had walked in. He looks up from the cake he was decorating and in comes you looking cuter than the first time he saw you. He tries not to mess up the cake and he stands up straight almost instantly when he sees you, waiting for you to order and trying to remain calm.
You laugh and point at his cute nose when you come up to the counter. “You have like, icing all on your nose.”
“O-oh. I do?” He points at himself and you nod in reply. He feels himself going redder by the minute. He must look so stupid right now! And he urgently brings his sleeve up and tries to wipe the icing off his nose to not make himself look an even more of a complete fool in front of you .
“Ah wait no. Let me do it!” You lean over the counter as you see him struggling and wipe it off the top of his cute bunny like nose instead for him.
And that was the end of soobin. The end.
-
You become a regular at the bakery and soobin becomes a regular of embarrassing the absolute shit out of himself each time he sees you. He really doesn’t think he can top the previous comedic disaster that occurs when you enter, yet he always proves himself wrong, the awkwardness reaching new heights each time. From dropping trays of pastries, spilling drinks, nearly slipping in front of you, giving you a ₩50000 note when it was only ₩5000 change, the list goes on and on. He’s actually surprised he hasn’t lost his job yet.
And there’s also always a disappointed beomgyu shaking his head afterwards ready to make fun of him when Soobin promises to make a move but freezes every time you’re in sight, too much of a pussy.
“I’m calling an intervention.” Beomgyu declares and sighs after the nth time of soobin making absolutely no moves on you whatsoever, “Soobin, my man, my bro, you desperately need to get banged. It’s painful seeing the way you act. Your little crush is not gonna like you with the way you act. That’s it. We’re going clubbing tonight after this shift. No buts.”
“But-”
“I said no buts!”
“You know I hate clubbing.”
“You’ve never even been with me despite my constant pleads.” Beomgyu shakes his head and makes a dramatic pained face at his way.
“So? I know I’ll hate it.”
“You’re such a hater bro.”
“Yes I am. And I take pride in it. I’m a hater of everything.”
Beomgyu just sighs. He was utterly hopeless.
Unfortunately, there was no way Soobin could get out of this because beomgyu was having absolutely none of his protests and excuses and that’s how he ends up finding himself at the club anyway after his shift, sitting off to the side as he watches beomgyu disappear somewhere into the crowd. Soobin sighs as he downs his jack and coke. This was going to be a long fucking night.
-
In the dimly lit club, soobin’s discomfort was palpable, like a fish out of water and you noticed instantly upon arrival. It’s that cute tall baker boy who always serves you! You excitedly make your way and sit next to him, he looked a little lonely. “Hey! You work at that bakery on campus. I go there!”
Soobin’s eyes nearly fall out of his sockets at the sight of you sitting next to him and he nearly chokes on his drink as he splutters on his straw and nods. Act calm, act calm, act calm, act calm. Act cool and mysterious.
It’s you! You’re speaking to him?!
“So…these things not really your scene, huh?”
“Gee. How did you ever notice?” Soobin attempts to smile and joke with dry humour but it executes a little more awkward and nervous than how he would have liked.
You also try to carry on the conversation since this is the first time you’ve got to ever actually talk to the cute boy before. “I’m very intuitive. I can just sense things like that.”
He laughs at that too, feeling a bit more comfortable around you now. “No but yeah, I’d much rather be at home right now sleeping. Can’t say I’m much of an advocate for getting stupidly drunk with sweaty people you don’t even know with terrible rave music and flashing lights that should have an epilepsy warning”
“I get it.” You chuckle at how passionate he gets talking about how much he hates clubbing, frown on his cute face. “So why are you here then?”
“Friend wanted me to. Said I needed to finally get laid or whatever.” Soobin rolls his eyes and sips on his drink again, motioning his head to the direction of beomgyu on the dance floor, clearly drunk off his ass now.
“Oh, you’re a Virgin?”
Soobin’s ears go red when he realises what he said to you. “O-oh um y-yeah I guess…”
“Are you waiting for like marriage or the right person or something?” You question, genuinely surprised. He was tall and very attractive and it was rare for college boys to not hook up every single night these days.
“God no. Just never happened. I don’t really care for things like that. It’s probably overhyped anyway and doesn’t even feel that good. Like porn is highly unrealistic anyway.”
“You think so?” You chuckle at him and he nods, continuing to cutely sip on his drink with his straw. “Well maybe you should to try it out first and see for yourself.” Your words start to become a little flirty as you grow more confident talking with him and also because of the alcohol making you slightly tipsy now. “Sorry, but do you want to get out of here?”
“Yes please.” Soobin’s eyes widen even more at your suggestion and he’s more than happy to get out of here with you especially.
“Umm your friend is a bit….out of it right now.” You watch beomgyu drunk from afar, whipping his long hair back and forth claiming to everyone around he’ll be able to do it fast enough to lift off his feet and fly like a helicopter.
“He’ll be…he’ll be fine I’m sure”
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Soobin has no idea what good stuff he must have done in his past life to get to this moment right now, in your room, making out with you, in your bed. Did he mention making out? With you?! The customer he’s been crushing on for months?! Holy, he might hyperventilate right now. It all feels like a dream. Is this real right now?
You cup his cheek and move into his lap, continuing to move your lips against his and soobin’s ears and face are all flushed, breathing loud of enough for you to hear and he looks all nervous and a little shaky.
You stop kissing him but he chases after your lips still and you stroke his cheek, “Are you okay Soobin?”
He’s only able to nod, lips parted and eyes all glazed over. He’s so out of it just from making out with you it’s crazy. But so cute too.
“C-can you…can we…just want…”
“What do you want, baby?” You chuckle and stroke his cheek as he manages to utter some words. The petname only makes his head go even more haywire.
“W-want you…”
“What do you want me to do?” You giggle and coo at him.
He shyly shows you the boner he’s had this entire time. You can’t believe he got a boner just from some kissing. “Can you-will you touch me…please? Need it…” He pleads at you nervously, so red in the face.
“Are you sure?”
He nods his head exceptionally fast and you begin to unbuckle his jeans as he watches you take his flushed and hard dick out, breathing only becoming heavier. Damn, you didn’t think he’d be that big.
You take him into your hands and his mouth his already agape, gasping when you slowly start to stroke him.
You pump his big cock at a steady pace so as not to overwhelm him too much, though twisting and thumbing at the tip occasionally that has him drooling at the corner of his mouth and beads of precum dribbling out heavily from his cock. It’s endearing how far gone he is just at you stroking his dick slow, shy whimpers and other noises eliciting from his mouth.
You unbutton you shirt with your other hand as you continue to pump him and his eyes go crazed at the sight of your tits, you guiding his own big inexperienced hands to grope at them and he does, slumping his head into your neck and shoulder moaning into it and still groping and squeezing at your tits.
With a sudden yelp you feel Soobin’s cum spurt up and leak into your hands, his eyes rolling back as he whimpers continuously from his premature orgasm.
He doesn’t lift his head from your shoulder yet, too embarrassed to face you but he eventually does, eyes still half lidded, trying to catch his breath and he’s hard again. “W-will you fuck me? Please please please. Wanna feel it, wanna feel you, please?” He practically begs, still panting out.
“Are you really sure, Soobin? With me?”
“Yes please! Only want you.”
You study his face for any hesitancy but it’s clear he’s so set on wanting you to fuck him. So you wrap your hands around both his wrists and bring him to lay down on your pillows instead, you still straddling his lap.
When you’ve undressed your lower half, you bring his dick and slide it over your entrance a few times, he moans out loud, hands coming up shyly to cover his face and then you sink down incredibly slowly on his massive length . Soobin’s jaw drops and breath hitches at the feeling of his dick finally in your warm pussy, a strangled moan ripping out of him. He could seriously cum just from being in you right now, but he tries so hard not to or you’ll be disappointed and he doesn’t want to see you disappointed or embarrass himself even more.
“You good, baby?”
“M’ f-fine. Just-Just need a minute.” Soobin shakes out.
You take his hands away from his face and lean down to softly kiss him instead, trying to calm him down and he effuses into your mouth, kissing back passionately with his eyes closed.
“I’m ready now…” He pulls away after a while and looks you in the eyes.
So you start to slowly move, riding him, going up and down on his virgin dick. Soobin’s mouth hangs open in endless moans and gasps and whimpers, face buried into your pillow to the side and his hair all messy now. Whole body flushed and shaking underneath you.
“Better than you thought, baby?” You grunt out, bouncing on top of his cock.
“So much better. O-oh my god, f-fuck…ah!” So maybe sex wasn’t overhyped after all. Because goddamn, you feel so fucking good. Maybe it was just you. But Soobin truly feels like he’s gliding on fluffy clouds right now. All the times he’s touched himself not even coming close to how he feels right now stuffed in your pussy as you fuck him, watching mesmerised as your tits bounce with each movement. He could die here right now in full contentment. Oh how he was so wrong.
It’s not long at all before Soobin can’t hold it anymore. His hips bucking up and breath hitching as a loud strangled mewl tumbles out of his mouth and you feel hot cum fill you up suddenly that makes you still your movements on him. He lets out a long slurred groan and then goes limp beneath you, eyes closing shut and open as he fades from conscious to not every now and then. Is he really that fucked out?
After a while, he finally somewhat recovers and comes back to you from his high, still panting out and chest rising up and down. He looks up at you with a small shy smile on his lips, arm thrown over his forehead.
“You know I literally only go to the bakery because of how cute and silly you are and how you always make a mess of yourself whenever I walk in” You chuckle and admit, drawing shapes into his chest.
“W-wait you knew I liked you?” Soobin asks, shocked and feeling embarrassed again.
You laugh, “Come on, you made it rather obvious.”
Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)
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A/n: having serious writers block rn but forced myself to write this in practically one sitting (it was so painful) and has not been proof read at all so if it makes no sense I apologise 😭
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turquoisenintendo64 · 29 days
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Love Comes to Everyone !
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・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂
in which: a daughter of aphrodite is camp half-blood’s matchmaker, but can’t seem to find someone for herself.
percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite!reader
part 2
inspired by “Love Comes to Everyone” by George Harrison :)
warnings: use of y/n, there is no such thing as forbidden children, percy has a little half-sister, pipabeth implied
a/n: part 1 of the song inspired blurbs!! i’ll make more for my babies ehehehe, will probably make this a two shot. also this is terrible but anyway kinda cute
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂
“the date went fantastic!” daliah, a girl from the demeter cabin, told you, while you were eating some strawberries she brought you.
“i’m glad,” you smiled.
before the end of the week, you have set up two couples: daliah and fred, a boy from the hephaestus cabin, and emma and sasha, two unclaimed girls.
you really hoped emma and sasha weren’t sisters, that would be quite unfortunate.
“i’m sure all of your relationships went really well.”
and here we go again.
since you are a daughter of the goddess of love, people tend to assume you are a heartbreaker, maneater, and many other words not as friendly.
but the truth is you aren’t. in fact, you’ve never had a real boyfriend.
only boys who had invited you to their cabins to hangout, but you never ended up liking them enough to date them.
“oh, yeah! super well,” you lied.
you hated to admit it, but there was nothing you wanted more than to be loved. to have someone to be completely enamoured by you, admire you, listen to you, be someone’s priority. but you could never seem to find it.
some of your sisters tell you to just charm-speak your way into some boy’s heart, but that’s not real love, and you want real love.
you had love in your life, though. you loved your friends, and they loved you just as much.
“it takes time,” you heard a masculine voice next to you.
you snapped back to reality and found percy sitting next to you. when did daliah leave?
“what?”
“love,” he said.
to be honest, you were a little bit surprised by him talking to you all of a sudden.
you and percy aren’t exactly friends; he is best friends with annabeth, and you are too, sonit was inevitable for you two to meet and have a conversation once or twice.
“yeah, i know.” you nodded. “it sucks though, being able to set up a lot of people but not being able to do that for myself.”
“we all have someone, you just have to find it,” he got up, and after a sigh, he said “and who knows? maybe he is closer than you think.” and walked away.
trust me, if he was close, i’d know, you thought, but… maybe you wouldn’t know.
you knocked the door of the athena cabin, being greeted by a smiling annabeth.
then her smile faded.
“you are late, miss y/l/n.”
you asked her for help with something, yet you were late.
“i know, i know, i’m sorry. i got distracted.” you said, walking inside.
“by what?” she asked, sitting crisscrossed in her bed.
“daliah,” you said, sitting in her bed. “oh and percy.”
she smiled.
“percy?”
“mhm.”
“interesting…” she narrowed her eyes, with her smile still intact.
“interesting? why would it be interesting?”
“nothing. he just never talks to you.” she opened her ancient greek book you asked for, still smiling.
she was an incredibly bad liar, but you decided to ignore that and move on to your study session.
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂
“so you got sick in the matter of… three hours?” you asked annabeth.
“yes, and it’s” cough cough “really bad.”
you crossed your arms.
will had called you after your study session with annabeth, telling you she went to the infirmary claiming to have the flu.
“if you have it, i probably have it too, then.”
“no. you are totally fine.” she said. you raised an eyebrow.
“right… i will go help my sisters with the decorations in case the new camper is a daughter of aphrodite.”
“wait!” she called. “i promised percy to help him show the new camper around camp.” she explained.
“well if you have the flu, you can’t do that.”
“i know. could you do it for me?” she asked you, with a grin.
you stayed silent for a few seconds. as you weren’t answering, she faked a cough to make her indisposition more believable.
“sure, i’ll help percy.” her grin widened even more.
“thank you so much,” she kissed you in the cheek.
“if i get sick because of you, i will haunt you in your sleep.”
“yeah, yeah, now leave.” she pushed you out of the bed.
you walked out of the infirmary, not before telling will to call you at any minor inconvenience. you didn’t believe annabeth had the flu, but just in case it was true, you wanted to be with her if she got worse.
you saw percy with a little girl holding his hand.
she looked scared, and he was knelt next to her, whispering in her ear.
the little girl smiled and giggled.
“hey,” you greeted.
“hey. mary, this is y/n,” percy introduced you to the little girl, who shyly waved to you. she looked seven or so.
“hello mary, how are you?” you asked, kneeling in front of her, just like percy.
“i miss my mommy,” she confessed, tear stains on her cheeks.
“don’t worry, we’ll take care of you,” percy said, stroking her back.
percy got on his feet again, still holding mary’s hand.
he sounded like a tour guide, explaining everything as you walked around camp, adding anecdotes to entertain mary.
“that is the ares cabin,” he pointed to cabin 5, “but don’t get too close; they might bite you.” mary chuckled as percy tickled her.
he was good with kids.
gods, he was good with kids.
this guy was perfect and you didn’t even notice.
“this is y/n’s cabin, the aphrodite cabin,” he explained. he glanced at you before speaking again. “goddess of love and beauty. it’s not hard to believe she is y/n’s mom, right?”
you blushed. he was good with kids and lowkey bad at flirting. all you could ever ask for in a man.
“your mom is the goddess of beauty?” mary asked you, eyes shining with curiosity and innocence.
you nodded, “you can come to my cabin whenever you want, and i can dress you like a princess.” you told her, smiling.
“yes! i want to be a princess!”
you and percy laughed. he looked at you, but you didn’t notice.
now, he explained the hardest part. the whole ‘you could wait your whole life to be claimed’ thing. mary’s lower lip shivered, and it made you want to cry in the spot.
“so you don’t know who my dad is?” she asked. you and percy shared a concerned look.
“no. but i’m sure he will claim you soon, and when he does, we will introduce you to your brothers and sisters, okay?” you told her, reassuringly caressing her cheek.
“okay,” she said, smiling again, “you are my new best friends.”
you walked her to the hermes cabin, and stayed with her until she was comfortable with the other campers that resided there.
it was quite late, almost dinner time, exactly.
percy walked you to your cabin, and you stayed in the doorway a few minutes talking about mary.
“maybe she’s a daughter of apollo,” he suggested. “she’s really energetic.”
“well, duh, we all are. ADHD.”
“right,” he chuckled. “demeter, maybe? she seemed really interested in the strawberry fields.”
“well, she screamed when she saw a ladybug so i don’t think so.”
you heard someone calling for percy, and you cursed mentally.
“i have to… uh… leave.” he said, almost hesitantly.
he walked down the stairs of the cabin’s porch, facing you.
“i’ll see you at the campfire,” he said, with an awkward smile.
you smiled and waved. for some reason, you couldn’t let out any words.
you walked in your cabin, and threw yourself in your bed.
you didn’t notice annabeth and your sister piper in piper’s bed next to yours.
“how was your night, lovergirl?” annabeth asked you.
“didn’t you have the flu?” you asked, face buried in your pillows.
“i’m better.”
“i hope will gave you the plague,” she rolled her eyes.
you sat down in your bed, looking at them.
“percy is a good friend.”
“we know.”
“he’s kind.”
“we know.”
“he’s funny.”
“we know.”
“he’s kinda smart.”
“kinda. we know.”
“super bad at flirting.”
“we know.”
“good with kids.”
“we know.”
“and handsome. dare i say hot.”
“we prefer women, but we know,” annabeth said. piper giggled.
“do you guys think he could-“
“he does like you, y/n.” piper said.
“don’t know,” you turned around, laying down.
you heard annabeth and piper’s giggles, then, you heard a whisper.
“i think our lovergirl has found her loverboy.”
“shut up!” you whispered back.
and they laughed harder.
but maybe, just maybe, they were right.
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lowkeyremi · 21 days
Text
Choso who went into battle not knowing if he'd ever see you again. You knew this as well as he did, but he didn't want you to worry so he tried to comfort your mind.
"When I get back you gotta make me one of those cakes with the strawberries in it. I'll be thinking about it the whole time." He's hugging you, your head resting on his chest, tears from your leaky eyes stain his shirt.
"Don't go." Is all you can say. For some reason your heart is telling you that this is the last time you'll ever see your husband. This isn't just an assumption either, it's a very, very strong feeling inside of you.
"Baby. You know I have to.." His cold hands rub up and down your back, the coldness reminds of you of death.
"But.. what if this is our last time together?" He freezes completely, even his breath stops for a few seconds.
"I promise you, honey, this will not be our last time together." Choso leans down to meet your lips in a kiss, this kiss held so much slow, raw emotion. His hands caressed the back of your head and you felt more tears roll down your face.
"Choso! We gotta get goin'!" Yuki says tapping her foot impatiently. You have nothing against Yuki, but at that moment so much hate builds up inside of you- she's trying to take him away from you. She's trying to bring him closer to death.
"Choso please..." It's desperate and whiny, your voice cracks upon the last syllable. He gives you one last tight squeeze before muttering a, "I'll see you later baby."
The worst part about the departure is he doesn't look back, but you don't blame him. If he had looked back at your weepy eyes, he probably would have stayed instead of fighting for Japan.
Over the months of his absence you grow bitter, hateful, and quiet. Rarely do you talk anymore so when you hear your own voice it sounds foreign. Even your closest friends can't bring you out of the house without you bursting into tears, because the same door you walk out of is the same door he left out of.
"[name] you have to get out of here, you're going to spiral sooner or later," Your best friend mutters for the nth time.
"I'M NOT LEAVING! THIS IS ALL I HAVE LEFT!" You scream out. Regret instantly washes over you. "I'm-"
"I know you're hurting, don't worry about it." They say in a calming manner.
"I just- it's been two weeks since he's called me. Two. Weeks." Your best friend joins you on your couch, the same couch you and your husband have had many movie nights on.
"I know you're worried, [name]. About him, about your future, about everything... and I'm not going to tell you to be optimistic about the whole thing because it's 50/50 but I do want you to stay strong. It's what your husband would want, right?" They're right, if Choso were here he would tell you to push through and stay strong like you always do.
"Okay- fuck- alright. I'll go put some different clothes, let's get out of here. I haven't left in a long time."
The call came a month later. It was Yaga, he didn't sugar coat it, not that you wanted him to anyway.
"I'm sorry for your loss." It hurts when you hear those words being said to you over the phone. Your ears get a fuzzy feeling your vision blurs, and you start to hyperventilate.
"[name]? [name] are you there?" Everything went dark after that.
Trying to cope was the worst part of it all. Yaga had called you a couple of weeks later saying his body was so mutilated that they couldn't bring it back to bury him properly.
Now, you truly have nothing left, well, technically you have all the things he's given to you over the years, but you don't have him.
You went to therapy, you went to stay with your family, none of it worked. All you could think about was the last time he held you, his body was warm but his hands were cold to the touch.
As much as it hurts, your therapist has suggested moving out of your house because your pain is still raw and being in the house will bring up painful memories. Of course you refuse, why is everyone trying to take away what you have left of your husband?
In your bed was a picture of Choso, one you'd always keep with you when you missed him horribly. As you lie down for the night, you hug the picture tightly while tears silently fall from your eyes. At this point you don't even make sound anymore when you cry, it's just tears.
Ultimately, Yuji was the one to help you start your healing process. When everything had faded he came back, in rough shape might you add, but at least he was back. Instead of going to see all his friends when he returns, he goes to see you.
When he knocks on your door you assume it's your friends or a family member coming to get you out of the house. Seeing Yuji at your front door was very unexpected on your part. Before you can even get a sentence out he's squeezing you in a bone crushing hug.
"Choso told me to give you a hug for him. It was the last thing he asked for." His softly spoken words meet your ears. Almost immediately you squeezed Yuji tighter, "Thank you ,Yuji..."
"I know that you've known him longer than I have but.." he pauses, "his death hurt me just as much, and shit- I'm not gonna lie and say everything will be okay or everything will go back to normal, but I will say that he wants us to continue on even when it's rough."
Yuji's words sink into your brain and your first thought is selfish 'he wouldn't want me to keep going without him'. After a few seconds of rethinking you agree with Yuji, Choso was a fighter and he pressed on for what he believed, and yes, he would want you and his brother to do the same.
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Text
The Blue Key
On her first night in her new home, after a lavish dessert of strawberry cheesecake and cream, her new husband handed her a clinking set of keys across the dining room table.
“You can go anywhere in the house,” her husband told her, “except the basement.”
He showed her the key to the basement. It was midnight blue.
“Why? Is the basement where you keep the bodies?” she asked, with half a smile.
He didn’t smile back. “Do you promise me?”
She studied him carefully, feeling the weight of the basement key in her hand.
There were many keys to the house - hefty ornate keys for their front and back doors, a pretty gold one for their bedroom, a dozen little silver and brass ones for any other lock in the house that she might come across. Windows and cabinets and the like.
The basement key was almost insubstantial against her palm. Negligible. The sort of key that was easily lost, that looked like it might belong to a doll house more than a proper estate.
She couldn’t read his expression.
“You can’t tell me what’s in there?”
“I will know if you open the door,” he said, “and everything that we are will end.”
She laughed again, uncertainly, because the words were surely absurd and certainly not like him. He could have simply told her it was dangerous and so best avoided, or not given her the key to the basement in the first place. She doubted she would have given it all that much thought among all the other rooms.
Yet, his words instead piqued curiosity.
Once again, he did not smile. He stared at her solemnly, with a hint of something haunted that she had only caught flickers of during their courtship.
The laughter died in her throat.
He had been like something from a fairy tale from the moment they met; Prince Charming to pluck her out of the ashes of her drab life, even if she knew he had been married before. Everyone knew. Just as none of them had expected him to pick her. She had no experience in the running of manor houses, and no especially outstanding beauty nor fortune of her own to make up for that fault. In short, she was nothing like his first wife.
But, she had made him laugh, and she had liked him. God, how she had liked him – and liked him still – with such blushing ferocity that it almost made her dizzy.
Her new home was enormous, and beautiful, and filled with the kind of impossible luxuries that she had never even dared to dream of having. It was filled with him. She was nothing, and nobody, and he had given her the keys to be something and somebody else. Someone better. What was one small forbidden key against all that?
She knew the preciousness of privacy. Sometimes a secret could be the only thing that was really yours.
“Okay.” She bit her lip, and started to unhook the key from the ring. “Would you like it back, then? Just to be sure.”
He recoiled as if she’d drawn a knife on him and shook his head.
“Keep it,” he rasped. “Keep it safe. Keep it locked. Let it be forgotten.”
But from that moment on, though, she never really forgot about the blue key for a moment.
***
The library was probably her favourite room in her new home. It was astonishing to be able to have an actual personal library, stocked from soft-carpet and gleaming hardwood floor to cavernous ceiling with walls upon walls of books of every kind. The orphanage had maybe three books, worn and ancient, each crumbling a little more with every reading.
There were lots of stories in her husband’s books about girls with keys, girls with curiosity, heroes with something they were not supposed to look at under the pain of death or something worse.
Psyche with Eros, who was told without explanation not to look upon her perfect and mysterious host, for there could be no love without trust.
Orpheus, forbidden to glance back at his love, lest he lose her for good.
Pandora, with her strange once unopened box of evils and hope, told it was hers.
Eve, with her curiosity, with her knowledge, lured into plucking that shining forbidden fruit.
Bluebeard too, of course, with his many murdered wives, all told not to seek out their bloody predecessors behind his secret door, because – why?
Because it was a game of female obedience? Because it gave a predator an excuse to do what he did best, when he knew from the first instance that his victims would have to know? He chose them, after all. And why did they look, those wives, against all warning?
Because the uncertainty was unbearable? Because it was their home too? Because they loved the man they married and wanted to know everything there was to know of him? Maybe they wanted to save him. It was never cruelty.
The two of them were happy, her husband and her, as blissful as newlyweds were want to be.
In the evenings they would cuddle before the roaring fires, night caressing the windows, and he would read aloud from his favourite passages or play music. In the days he would work, or leave on some business or other, and she would wander the labyrinthian corridors alone and explore the many treasures tucked away behind his many locked doors.
The library could have lasted her years, but she found a room with a ceiling made of magnifying glass by which to observe the stars, a swimming pool built into the rock beneath the entrance hall, a lush garden bursting with colour that she could tend to in the sunshine.
There were servants to take care of the day-to-day running of the building, and so he did not seem to desire any particular purpose of her except to be his wife. Except for her to live in his home, in their home, and enjoy his easy company and the gifts he gave her. She found ways to keep busy. To contribute.
Thus, it took her many months to walk down towards the basement, to first look upon the door that she was not allowed to open. Spring had turned to the first icy breaths of winter.
The door was painted the same midnight blue as the key, and immaculate in condition. The lock was tiny. A dark slither, a crack, in something otherwise quite lovely.
She pressed her hand against the door and the wood was warm compared to the cool, slightly stale, underground air that filled her chest.
She dropped a hand into her pocket, fingers closing unerringly around the blue key. She tried not to touch it, not to think about it, but she had come to know it instantly by shape and feel alone. It was simply so odd to have a key so small. She had half expected the door would be in miniature too.
How could he possibly know, if she opened it? In some tales it was magic. The key would betray her. He would know by seeing it. But her husband did not want to look upon the key, he had never even mentioned it once after their first dinner.
What then was in the basement? Something so terrible that she could no longer love him? Or perhaps it was empty. Perhaps it was structurally unsound. Perhaps it was simply a test on if she would allow him that one thing that was his and his only.
She leaned down, and pressed her eye to the keyhole with a hammering heart. She didn’t know what she expected to see inside, exactly – a skeleton, or some ghoul staring back at her, or some hidden vault even. There was only darkness. Nothing to see. She straightened again, unsure if the painful feeling in her lungs was breathless relief or airless disappointment.
She walked back up the stairs.
She turned over the pages of stories in the library, and turned the key over and over in her palm, and wondered which of those many tales she was in.
***
“I think,” she said one night, as they lay in bed. “That it bothers me more that you will not tell me, than anything that could possibly be in the basement.”
He stiffened on the mattress next to her.
“Is there something I could do,” she rolled onto her side to face him, “so that you would know you could trust me with the truth?”
His expression was half-hidden in the dim light, his body made unfamiliar by slashes of moonshine slicing through the curtains. His blue eyes were open, staring up, away from her.
“You promised me that you would not dwell on the door.”
“No.” She reached out, tracing her fingers gently along the curve of his jaw, coaxing him to meet her searching gaze. “I promised I wouldn’t open it. There’s a difference.”
He snorted, but tipped his head towards her hand, planting a kiss to her knuckles.
“Can you at least narrow down the possibilities?” She pressed into the silence, because kisses were sweet but they were not an answer. “Is it something I shouldn’t see? That you don’t want me to see? Something that – I don’t know – can’t be let out? Are you the secret guardian of a nightmare world?” She attempted another smile, but it wobbled shaky. “Just give me something, and I’ll leave it alone. I just want to know. I need to know. Whatever it is – whatever it could possibly be – you don’t have to carry it alone. We’re supposed to be a team. That’s what marriage is.”
“Is my word not enough for you?” He sounded tired. “Is everything I have given you not enough?”
She scrunched up her nose at him. “You’d be happily blind, if it were you?”
“Ignorance can be bliss.”
“If you wanted me ignorant, why tell me about the key in the first place? You know me.”
They’d met on account of her curiosity, of her straying to places that she wasn’t supposed to be. He’d been visiting the library of one of the great colleges, reserved for great men like him, and she’d snuck in aching for a glimpse of the world.
Her husband said nothing.
“When you first gave me the key…” She swallowed. “You looked scared.” Her fingers, which had often brushed his in the library stacks once upon a time, grazed his pulse. It was racing. “I would fight monsters for you. Even if you’re the monster.”
As the silence stretched, she thought he might say nothing again, until the silence had grown so large that they might never reach each other across the abyss of it.
“I love you,” he said. His voice cracked. He caught her hand, entwining their fingers together, and squeezed. “Goodnight.”
The seconds ticked by into minutes, into she didn’t know how long.
“Is it a curse?” she whispered, into the dark. “If you’re not allowed or able to tell me, squeeze my hand twice.”
“Oh my god.” His voice was muffled, then, as he pulled a pillow over his face and wrenched free of her. “It’s two in the morning, darling. Go to sleep.”
***
She watched the door diligently for about a month. She didn’t think her husband had some poor creature locked up in the basement, but if he did then one would assume that either he would have to visit, or have the servants visit, in order to provide his victim some form of sustenance.
Nobody visited the basement door except her. There could not be anything living on the other side.
At least, not unless there was some other second secret door and tunnel system, hidden somewhere on the grounds. She didn’t see anyone vanish to one of those either, though. Would she, if it wasn’t on the grounds? How large a conspiracy could a little blue key possibly hold?
Would it count as ‘opening the door’ if she made a hole in the wall next to the door? 
She remembered her husband, in the college library the first time they met, spying the collection of ghost stories she’d been straining to reach. He’d grabbed it off the top shelf for her, easily, a glimmer of amusement curling his lips.
“I never really got these stories,” he’d mused. “If it were me, I would simply not have gone into the haunted house in the first place. Or, one look at a ghost and – no, no thank you. Goodbye! Have a nice life.”
She’d gaped at him.
He’d shrugged at her, and handed her the book. “But I can see that you’re a braver soul than me,” he said. “Sneaking into a place like this uninvited.”
She’d accepted the volume, clutching it protectively to her chest.
“Well,” she’d managed. “People like you are already invited everywhere, aren’t they? So you don’t have to be brave.”
He’d startled into a laugh.
She’d wondered if he would expose her to security, wondered if she should have denied it, wondered how he’d seen through her so swiftly and –
“Don’t worry.” He’d already been turning away, with a last lingering glance at her. “I can keep a secret.”
She’d only learned later who he was, and that it had been a month since his wife had died.
How, exactly, had his first wife died? The papers had said ‘tragic accident’, but there had been no witnesses. He didn’t talk about it, or about her.
No. She was being ridiculous. Maybe she had only imagined the flicker of terror on her husband’s face, the way he had flinched from the key, the rough urgency in his voice. Whatever it was, whatever it could possibly be, was not worth sacrificing what they had. There were other rooms; a dozen of them!
She buried the damn key in the garden. Out of sight, out of mind. Better that than completely losing her mind over something that probably had a completely rational explanation. Love was a leap of faith. 
She woke up the next morning to find the blue key back on the key ring, still covered with a fine sprinkling of dirt.
***
Her least favourite stories in the library were the ones about fate.
Maybe some people found such notions encouraging, comforting even in their reassurance that all of the suffering in the world was for a reason and that people could have some incredible purpose laid out for them. She’d always found the idea to be like quicksand beneath her feet, sucking her down down down trapped.
For, if it was fate, there could be no real escape. No chance. No hope.
She kept returning to the story of Bluebeard, tracing variations and retelling with the blue teeth of her blue key.
Maybe, if she was Bluebeard’s final wife, she would open the door and ultimately inherit a grand fortune, and recover from the trauma of falling in love with someone who wasn’t what they said they were.
What if she was only the second wife though, or the metaphorical third? What if her fate was to be some dead thing written only to add background colour to someone else’s happy ending?
It was all well and good of her husband to claim he would never go into a haunted house, but such declarations only really worked if one knew they were in a horror story instead of something else.
“Do you think, maybe,” she asked her husband as winter turned back to spring, “that we could go away somewhere?”
They strolled through the gardens, his arm wrapped protectively around her frail shoulders. Ever since the key incident she had found it difficult to sleep, to eat, to not find herself worrying about the door like worrying a hangnail until she tore off bloodied scraps of her own skin.   
The house, which had once seemed so large to her, had turned into something suffocating. She had no friends in the area, and however far she went along the grounds in the lonely hours of her husband’s working, the door would always be there for her and the key would always be in her pocket. The questions, the creeping doubts, would buzz in her brain like flies swarming a corpse.
“Go away?” He seemed surprised. “Is there something else that you need?”
She had tried simply hiding the key, then stayed up all night staring at the key ring laying on her bedside to try and catch the culprit who’d dug it up from beneath the roses.  One of the servants must have brought the damn thing back, right? Perhaps, the housekeeper? She got the impression that the severe woman had never really approved of her, never liked her. She was not as impressive and perfect a candidate as his first wife had been.
She had seen nothing, but when she fell finally into an exhausted slumber, the key had been waiting for her.
“I just thought it might be nice for us both to get away for a while,” she said. “A holiday. You’ve been so busy with your work.”
She had tried burning the key. It did not burn.
“There is a lot to do,” he said. “This is a large estate. It takes – management, a lot of care.”
“Perhaps I could help you?”
“It is not your burden, darling.”
“But it’s yours? A burden?”
The key, whatever it was, had to be of some supernatural origin. Of that she was increasingly certain. Well, the ghosts were in the house, so to speak, and he wasn’t leaving! He wouldn’t look at her, his attention fastened on the first snowdrops shoving their heads from beneath the hard earth.
“Tell me,” she said. “Or come away with me, please.”
He glanced at her, then.
She reached into her pocket and held up the blue key.
He turned away, quickening his pace as if he couldn’t wait to get away from it too.
“Where,” he said the next morning, “would you like to go, love?”
At the sea side, she tossed the key into the water when he wasn’t looking. If it was the servants, if there was any chance that something in the house was messing with her, with them, then even its evil reach could surely not reach beyond the borders of the property?
It was better for a while, after that. They were both lighter on holiday, away from his family home, with all of its history and responsibility.
The house on their return, waiting for them as it always was and would be, felt new and full of possibility again. They kept laughing over their first dinner back and fell asleep still high on love and freedom and everything they were supposed to be.
The next morning, impossibly, the blue key was on the key ring again.
She started to cry.
“I’m sorry,” her husband said. The colour had leached, stricken, from his handsome face. He looked older. Exhausted, too. His eyes were dark. “I wish—” He fell silent. He reached out to her, and she recoiled. “I’m sorry.”
“You wish what?” It came out whip sharp.
He said nothing. 
She shook her head, the laugh on her breath not really a laugh at all. Of course, he would still not tell her.
“If you don’t tell me,” she said, “everything that we are will end. You understand that, don’t you?” She fumbled the key off the ring and hurled it onto the sheets between them. It sat there, so disgustingly innocuous looking, a glint of blue among the white. “This isn’t fair. This is – sick. Take it back.”
“I know.” He folded his arms, less great man, more frightened child hugging himself. He stared down the key like an old enemy. “I know.”
“Or,” she said. A plea edged into her tone. “We could leave. For good. Let this house, let that door, be forgotten. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
He shook his head, less ‘no’ and more ‘I can’t’ and more ‘I’m sorry’.
She squared her shoulders, even as his slumped. “Tell me, at least, if I should go. You love me, right? If there was something rotten in that basement, you would want to protect me from it, wouldn’t you?”
“You can go,” he said. “If that’s what you want. That’s always been your choice.”
She stared at him.
He looked haunted, hunted, and he had known all along that the key would always end up back on the ring, hadn’t he? That was why he hadn’t simply taken it off when he first gave them to her. She would have thought he didn’t trust her if he’d never given her the keys to her own home at all too, wouldn’t she?
She debated leaving him. She debated walking out the house and – what?  
He looked so broken.
She sighed, the defiant fury sluicing off her shoulders too. She rounded the bed and craned up on her toes to kiss the lost furrow of his forehead.
“Just ignore it,” he said, clutching her hands. “Just ignore the door, and we can be happy.”
“Darling,” she said. “You don’t seem happy here.”
She kissed his lips, like packing up a suitcase, and snatched the blue key back up off the sheets.
Then she went down to the basement and opened the door.
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lyriclvr · 1 month
Text
childhood best friends to lovers
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Pairing: Miles Morales 1610 x female reader !
Synopsis: miles being in love with you since you guys were kids.
Genre: fluff
Word count: 2361
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His earliest memory consists of the taste of cherry flavored blowpops, the scent of strawberry lotion and wild mango shampoo, and the feeling of your soft, warm lips pressed against his.
He remembers it as if it were yesterday. The two of you had been playing outside for what felt like hours while "The mothers" (as you guys had playfully called your mothers) scolded you for running in and out of the house.
After another trip of doing exactly that—going into the house for a drink of water and quickly running back outside—Rio stopped you two and gave you the choice of staying outside, or coming inside.
you smiled brightly and assured her that you would stay outside and play until you were finally ready to come in for the day.
"Of course tia," you had agreed, "we'll stay outside and play until it's curfew! We won't come in anymore, I promise!"
And with that, you grabbed Miles' hand and ran outside to the farthest end of your street, where the neighborhood park was.
"Betcha can't beat me in a race there and back," he taunted, pointing at a large pin oak tree that stood near the back of the park. It's dark green leaves slightly brightened by the glistening sun shining down on them.
"Can too!" you exclaimed, eagerly accepting his challenge.
Miles gave you a sly grin and ran to the sandbox, which was then quickly assigned to be the starting line, with you quickly chasing behind him, your hair blowing against your face in the soft breeze.
You perched yourself at the sandbox with Miles right next to you, ready to take off and kick his butt in what was sure to be another easy round of you beating him in a race.
"On your mark…" Miles said slowly, glancing over at you to make sure you were ready, his eyes flickering with something you couldn't quite determine but making you smile anyway.
"get set…"
"Oh, hurry up Miles!" You playfully groaned, rolling your eyes at his obvious trolling.
"GO!" Miles exclaimed, and the two of you took off running towards the pin oak tree,taunting and mocking each other the entire time.
"You're slow!" You shouted breathlessly.
"You're one to talk; you are literally reminding me of a turtle right now!" Miles shot back with another big smile, sprinting to the tree as fast as he could.
When he neared the tree, though, Miles slowed down and let you pass him up—not too obviously, but just enough to let you think that he had gotten tired or that you were simply too fast for him to beat.
The truth was, Miles was much faster and stronger than you and could have easily run the race, but he always let you take the first place trophy. He enjoyed seeing you brag about how fast you were or how good you were, knowing it was only possible because of his own loss.
Because of this, you won the race and wasted no time bragging about your well deserved and expected win, completely oblivious to the fact that he had let you win this time, and all the other times that came before this.
"Ha! I beat you, Miles; you owe me a soda!" You smiled at him, flashing a row of white baby teeth with the one on the side missing.
"Oh, please," he rolled his eyes playfully, "you cheated. I would've beat you but you ran before I even said go."
You laughed at his comment and slid down the tree's thick trunk to cool down, grateful for the shade the large branches and leaves provided against the relentless July heat. Beads of sweat were starting to form on your face from the heat waves rising from the hot asphalt, and you were almost certain you were going to die of "hotness."
"Whatever, you still owe me a soda." you cooed, letting out a deep sigh and resting your head on his shoulder, hot and tired from all that running you just did.
"I don't have a soda..but I got this," he said breathlessly, pulling a cherry blowpop from his pocket stowed away from earlier.
You took it from his fingers without another word and popped it into your mouth, immediately feeling a rush of dopamine from the sugary taste of the candy.
Miles gazed over at you, resting on his shoulder and mindlessly sucking on the blowpop, silently taking the chance to admire your beauty. Even though you were just an eight-year-old girl, you were already so beautiful, and this was something everyone seemed to know but you.
Miles was reminded of this fact whenever he took the chance to sneakily take longing looks at your soft pink lips, long dark eyelashes, iridescent eyes, and that soft hair that always seemed to glow in the sun. He loved all these small details about you, but was too young to understand what this meant to him yet. So he kept them to himself, storing it for later.
A while later, you lifted your head from his shoulder, and although it was plenty hot outside, he immediately missed your warmth. He wanted you to rest on him again, perhaps come even closer, but he wouldn't press the issue.
He thought of you and what he wanted for a quick moment before he was snapped out of his thoughts when you looked up at him with a soft smile and asked him if he thought that you guys would be friends forever.
"Of course we will. We are best friends forever, remember?" He replied, fanning his flushed face.
"Yeah, but what if we get older and make new friends? You'll probably forget all about me and have way more fun with them." You countered, eyes wide, with the thought of growing up without your best friend.
"But I wouldn't, cause you're my number one girl for life. I would make other friends, but they would never come close to me as close as you are to me. I promise." He said.
As if to emphasize his words, he leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was gentle, almost feather-light, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You felt a strange fluttering in your chest, like butterflies were trapped inside. You didn't understand what was happening, but it felt nice.
Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, he leaned in even closer. His lips were just inches from yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. Time seemed to stand still as you waited for him to make his move, but you were unsure of what that move was yet.
And then he kissed you.
His lips were soft and warm against yours, and they sent a rush of heat through your entire body. He remembered the taste of the cherry-flavored lollipop on your lips and the softness and warmth of your skin. Time seemed to stand still as you kissed under the shade of the tree, the soft summer air caressing your skin.
He inhaled the scent of what was sure to be shampoo, its sweet, fruity smell making him only want to smell more of it. He counted to five in his head because it's what he had seen all the other kids do in the movies when they kissed, and when he finally pulled away, you were breathless, your cheeks flushed from the heat and the kiss. He smiled down at you, his amber eyes sparkling in the sunlight with something he was sure to love.
And this is when he knew that he was in love with you.
...
Now, eight years later, when he was sixteen and you were fifteen and a half --you always liked to point out whenever Miles teased you for your age difference--,Miles couldn't help but wonder if you remembered that day.
Did you remember the feeling of his lips on yours? The feeling of his skin pressing against yours? The sweet, innocent smiles that happened after that kiss?
Miles couldn't help but think of that moment as he lay on his bed, the sunlight streaming in through the window casting a warm glow across your face. Your hair was spread out around you like a halo of gold, and your eyes were closed as you lay on your stomach, lazily flipping through a fashion magazine.
He couldn't help but stare at you. Since you had gotten older, you had started to fill in nicely. Places where you weren't so curvy back then had started to fill in, and he couldn't help but take in every detail—every curve of your body, every freckle on your skin.
When he looked at you like this, he just knew he wanted to kiss you again. No, he didn't want to kiss you again, he needed to kiss you again. To feel your lips against his, to taste your sweet breath on his tongue.
"What do you think about this dress?" you asked suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. He blinked, coming back to reality, and forced a smile. "It's really pretty," he mumbled, trying to focus on what you were saying, although his mind felt scattered with thoughts he knew he shouldn't have.
You smiled back at him, and in that moment, he felt like everything was alright. He felt like he could forget about kissing you and how much it hurt to be so close to you yet so far away. He felt like he could finally breathe.
But then you leaned over to pick up your water bottle, and as you did, your shirt rose up just enough to reveal a sliver of smooth skin at your hip. It was only for a second, but it was enough to make his heart race and his palms grow sweaty. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch you, to feel your skin against his own.
"So, do you think I should get my nails done in that color?" You continued, gesturing to a pretty shade of pink on the page of the magazine. The pink had reminded him of that one hello kitty girl you liked, my Melanie? but he didn't have time to think about it for too long before he forced himself to look at the page and focus on your words.
But all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you again, to feel the softness of your lips against his. He swallowed hard, trying to clear his throat. "Um, yeah, that color would look really good on you," he managed to say. "You should totally do it."
Sensing the tension in the air, you look up at him and find him staring back at you with something that can only be described as love in his eyes. A blush crept up on your face, and you tried to clear your throat. The tension between you was growing thicker as you both struggled to maintain eye contact.
Finally, you decide to break it, glancing down at your magazine and pretending to focus on the pictures. "Well, I guess I'll have to ask Mom what she thinks."
Miles nods, pretending not to notice the awkwardness between you. "Yeah, maybe you should." He mumbles, swallowing hard, feeling the urge to reach out and touch you growing stronger by the second. He forces himself to stay still and focus on anything but these feelings, though.
The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and unacknowledged feelings. You both know what happened, you both felt things that neither of you were sure were supposed to be felt, but neither of you dared to acknowledge them. It's as if you're both afraid that if you say anything, it will make it real, make it permanent.
But Miles couldn't take this anymore. He needed you, and he knew what he needed to do in this moment.
Miles clears his throat, looking away from you for a moment, focusing on a spot across the room. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. Then, without warning, he leans forward and presses his lips against yours.
It's a soft kiss at first, tentative and unsure, but as you respond, your fingers softly trailing up his shoulders and your lips meeting his exactly how they needed to, it becomes something else.
His hands find their way to your face, cradling your cheeks as he deepens the kiss. You taste like cherry lip gloss and it instantly reminds him of the cherry blowpop flavored kiss the two of you had shared years ago.
But now, the two of you were older. Kissing meant more than just some innocent, childlike crush thing. Kissing meant more, and in this moment, he knows that he's never wanted anything more than to be able to taste you, to feel your lips against his, to breathe in the scent of your mango shampoo-scented hair.
You pull away for a moment to catch your breath, but he still holds you close to him. Savoring the closeness between you two, he whispers sweet things against your lips, whispering all of the things he's been wanting to say since he was eight years old.
"I love you, like, really, love you" he whispers, his eyes closed and his fingers tracing your cheeks and sliding up into your hair, gently touching the soft strands.
I love you too, Miles. I always have" You mumble back, your hands resting on his shoulders and your lips still softly brushing against his.
You pull away for real this time, slowly opening your eyes and seeing something you've never seen before. You see a depth of an emotion that you didn't even know existed. You see love. Not the puppy-love of your childhood, but the mature, true love that only comes from years of knowing someone and realizing just how much they mean to you.
So, you kiss him again. This time, with a passion that Miles knows he'll be getting for the rest of his life.
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skzdarlings · 6 months
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vexatious vixen ; felix x reader ; part 1/2
masterlist.
PART 1/2. READ PART 1 HERE. ( READ ON AO3. )
You always get what you want. When an unassuming security guard named Felix stops your latest venture, you escalate the stakes until he has no choice but to put you in your place.
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pairing: lee felix/reader content info: romantic comedy. strangers to enemies to lovers. handcuffs. cat-and-mouse. eventual smut will be kinky dom/sub dynamics, dom!felix and sub!reader. (chapter word count: 7400 words.)
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Seungmin is one of your best friends and also a conniving master of manipulation.  Being a malevolent source of wicked verbal wizardry, he convinced you and Minho that it would be totally super easy to sneak into the Hwang Hyunjin concert.  It’s only the final night of the pop-star’s sold-out world tour and the most anticipated concert of the year.  What could go wrong?  
It sounded like a good idea when Seungmin said it.  Now the three of you are standing in a pushy crowd of overeager fans with some very intimidating looking security guards at the end of the queue. 
“Reconvene,” you say.  You grab the boys by their scruff and drag them out of the line. 
“Ah, hey!” Minho snaps at you like piranha.
You release him to grab Seungmin by his collar.  “You better have an idea for getting us past security,” you say, “because I do not like the look of the Incredible Hulk up there.”
The three of you look at the shortstack beefcake who looks like he could bench all three of you at the same time. 
“Yeaaaah,” Seungmin says.  He flashes you a not-so-innocent smile as his strawberry-pink bangs flop into his eyes.  “I didn’t really think this far ahead.  I thought you’d have a plan.”
“Why would I have a plan?” you ask.  “This whole thing was your idea.  Seungmin.”  You drag him close so your noses touch, going cross-eyed at the proximity.  It does not lessen the severity of your frustration when you state, “I waxed for this.  And you know how I feel about waxing.” 
“You waxed?” Minho asks loudly.  It draws a few glances your way which might be because Minho is so loud, or might be because he’s so good looking, or a combination of the two.  His dark eyes narrow at you like you’re a completely alien creature.   “Why would you wax for a concert?” he asks. 
“Wax,” Seungmin parrots.  Your hands are on his collar like you intend to shake him up but it doesn’t deter him asking, “Like… like wax-wax?  Like your human body waxed?”
“Like your human pussy?” Minho asks.  “For a concert?  What did you think was gonna happen?”  He is on the very visible verge of hysterical laughter when a thought lights his eyes.  “Wait,” he says.  “I know how we can get in—”
“Oh my god,” you say.  You shove Seungmin and grab Minho by the collar instead.  “I’m not fucking our way in.  And I waxed,” you drop your voice, “just in case.”
“Just in case…?” Minho tips his head.  “Just in case you had to fuck your way in…?”
“Oh my god,” you say.  You push him away too.  “Never mind.”
“Did you think Hyunjin was going to summon you out of the crowd for a green room quickie?”  Seungmin asks with a shit-eating grin. 
Minho cackles.  “No way she’d even go,” he says.  “She doesn’t get summoned.  She likes to be chased.” 
“She is walking away now,” you say.    
“Bet she’ll walk away quickly,” Seungmin says.  “She waxed so she’ll be aerodynamic.”
You stomp away from the stadium but only make it a few steps before Seungmin runs in front of you. 
“We can’t just give up here,” Seungmin says.  “We made it this far already.”
“One bus stop?” you ask dryly.  “We literally live like five minutes away—”
“Exactly!” Seungmin says.  “That’s called destiny.”
“We might as well try,” Minho says.  He cups a hand over his eyes to look at the stadium in the fading light of the sun.  “We all got dressed up.  Seungmin skipped a class.  You waxed.” 
“There’s no way we’re getting through those doors,” you say. 
“We’ve done it before,” Seungmin says.  He turns you to face the stadium and massages your shoulders like a boxing coach, all the while regaling you with tales of your past victories.  “Remember all the other concerts we snuck into?  The sports games?  That celebrity wedding—”   
“Well,” Minho interrupts, “we did get arrested at that one.” 
“Yeah and we got arrested together,” Seungmin says, “because that’s what friends do.” 
“I don’t know why,” you say, “but for some reason this is working.”  Maybe it’s Seungmin’s words, or Minho’s cologne, or maybe it’s the soft glow of a perfect summer sunset as it pours over the stadium like a pink-orange waterfall.  Or maybe it’s because this really is the concert of the year, and you love a challenge, and you fucking waxed. 
You throw your head back and sigh, soulfully resigning yourself to your imminent fate.
“Fine,” you say.  “So how are we doing this?”   
“Don’t worry,” Seungmin says thoughtfully.  “I think I have a plan.”
Seungmin proceeds to explain the plan.  It is hardly the pinnacle of heist endeavours but is more feasible than rappelling down the stadium walls into the concert arena.
Basically, the plan is to find a group of people with a solitary ticket holder and leech onto their tail with the hopes security will miscount the party and let you sneak past.  It means you will have to split up because security will definitely notice three extra people.  You will then hopefully reunite inside the arena.
You scamper around the periphery of the stadium, perusing lines for oblivious groups of excited fans with an e-ticket-wielding ringleader.  You also double-check which security guards seem the most lax or checked out. 
“I get that one,” Minho says. 
He points to a trim, athletic guard with floppy brown hair and a giggly smile.  You and Seungmin protest because that guard is an easy mark so you all want him, but Minho takes off running for the queue. 
The thing about Lee Minho is that he never hauls ass.  He coasts through life with a casual slouch, but he is completely capable of annihilating everyone if he deigns to do so. 
He does.  So he did.
You and Seungmin look around.  Your grin widens when you spy the next easiest target.
“Aha!” you say.  “I call dibs on that one!  Good luck, Seungmin!”
“Hey!” Seungmin bellows.
He is far too late.  You are already booking it towards the line with a pretty, chipper, skinny security guard.  He is in jeans and a loose windbreaker that says SECURITY across the back, about the only indication he is a man of any authority.  His hair is a vibrant, neon blue and is delicately styled, long enough to pull back in a pretty half-ponytail.  His features are sharp, cheekbones sloping, but there is a natural tenderness to his whole countenance.  He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. 
Also, he really is lean.  Worst case scenario, you can probably push your way past him and disappear into the crowd before he can do anything about it.  
You find a group of girls to sidle alongside anyway.  You are satisfied you will easily slip into the stadium. 
The group reaches the front of the line, a couple of them giggling at the security guard’s friendly attention.  His name tag reads Felix, a cute name for a cute guy.  Up close, you can see a smattering of dark freckles across his face, as well as a few playful glitter stars for the concert.  He is admittedly pretty but as a professional gate crasher, you refrain from distraction.  You successfully avoid his gaze and stick close to the girl in front of you. 
Felix gives them each a friendly nod, smiling brightly.  He laughs at one of their comments and it’s a charming, low sound. 
“Enjoy the show, ladies,” he says, his voice about a hundred decibels deeper than you expected.  
Maybe that’s what trips you up.  It has to be something, because you were doing everything right.  But just as you go to follow the girls into the arena, a skinny arm shoots out and you smack right into it.   
“Sorry,” Felix says.  He drops his arm and smiles.  “I just need to see your ticket.” 
“My…?”  You look ahead at the group of girls, but they are already gone.  Oops.  “Ha, ha,” you say, looking at Felix. 
He is staring back at you, still smiling a close-lipped smile.  He blinks a couple times then lifts an eyebrow.
“Uh, ticket?” he says.  He holds out his hand.  
“Right,” you say.  You smile at him with all the saccharine sweetness you can.  “I have funny story about that, Felix,” you say. 
“Hm.”  His smile turns into a line, eyes narrowing as he looks at you.  “And what’s that?” 
“Well, you see…”
It’s all you say before you bolt, fast on your feet.  You sprint for the entryway behind the guarded queue.  There’s a crowd inside and you’re an expert at disappearing into a crowd.  You just need to get in there and find your boys then you are home free.  Hwang Hyunjin, here you come. 
There’s just one problem.  
Felix is fast.  
Like, track star fast.  Like, road runner fast.  Like, you’re that dumb coyote getting an anvil dropped on your head, except this anvil is a skinny blue-haired Australian with a voice like a god and the apparent hidden strength of one too. 
You make it a few desperate steps before Felix literally sweeps you off your feet.  You shriek when he hauls you under his arm, dragging you away from the stadium door.  He deposits you a few feet from the queue then swiftly resumes his position. 
“Hello,” he says to the next person in line.  “Sorry about that.  Ticket?”   
Your mouth is agape.  
No one has ever got the jump on you like that.
“Hey!” you say, but Felix has moved on.  He is smiling at the next guest as he checks their ticket, not paying you any mind.  “Excuse me,” you say, despite the people between you and him.  “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.  I do have a ticket.”
“Uh-huh,” Felix says.  He doesn’t look at you, scanning someone’s e-ticket with a little device.  It lights up green and he smiles at them.  “Enjoy the show,” he says. 
You jump into the queue, cutting off the next person.  Felix’s smile vanishes and is replaced with an astoundingly sassy expression.
“Uh, this line is for ticket-holders,” he says. 
“I have a ticket,” you say.  You unzip your purse and spend a minute rifling around, ignoring him when he sighs.  He apologizes to the people behind you.  You turn and offer a tight-lipped apology of your own.  “I was in line,” you say, as if they didn’t just witness this ten-pound bully haul you around like a sack of potatoes.  “There was just a misunderstanding.”
Felix rolls his eyes. 
You pull out your cell phone and flip through a folder of fake screenshotted tickets, hoping at least one of them marginally resembles the tickets for tonight.  You pick one and flash it at Felix. 
“Happy?” you say with a lot of false indignation.  You turn off the screen when Felix goes to grab your phone.  You give him a snooty, squinty-eyed look, then saunter right past him. 
This time when he comes after you, you are better prepared for his speed.   You zig-zag and he stumbles, cussing very unprofessionally.  You make it all the way to the door before he grabs you.  You have no idea where he is getting all that muscle because he feels like a sturdy stick when you grab at him, but he puts you over his shoulder like it’s easy. 
“Um, excuse me!” you shout.  “Hello!  Someone film this!  I’m being assailed!”
Felix intentionally jostles you on his shoulder.  He is even less gentle when he drops you this time, though you do manage to keep your footing. 
“Try that again,” Felix says, “and it will be trouble.  Got it?” 
Felix is very good looking.  He’s an incredible combination of pretty and handsome, not to mention that voice, guh.  But what gets you going is how much you are clearly pissing him off.  It’s hot.  Out of nowhere, the freckled sunshine sweetheart is just oozing confidence, standing square and pointing at you with a very stern expression.  And if you get a little hiccup in your blood, a little skip in your heartbeat, a little stampede southward that makes your pussy hum like the interested kitten it is, well.  That’s not your fault.  It’s his.  Asshole.
You flip him off.  He ignores you, shaking his head as he returns to his position.
“Sorry,” he says to the queue.  “Some people are so inconsiderate, aren’t they?”
Ugh. What a sexy bitch. 
You text to check in with the boys.  Minho made it inside, no surprise, but apparently Seungmin is also struggling for an in. 
what is with these security guards, Seungmin writes, are they military trained? fuck 
maybe you’re both just losing your touch, Minho replies.
never, you say.  we still have lots of time.  we'll get in there.  seungmin, meet me by the benches.  we need another plan.  
Usually, the best way to crash an event is with minimal attention and no theatrics.  It’s all about pretending you are exactly where you are supposed to be.  If you act like you belong, then you will.  
A spectacle is a desperate measure, but you are desperate people.  After a few hushed whispers on a bench, you and Seungmin spring into action. 
“Help!”  Seungmin shouts.  “My wife needs help!  Please!” 
“Your wife?” you whisper through gritted teeth, opening one eye to look at him.  You are currently laying on the pavement in a dramatic swoon, Seungmin hunched over you. 
“My companion of ambiguous relationship is hurt!” he says.  “Ouch,” he adds, because you swat his arm.
Fortunately, he does draw attention.  A few people run over, the beefy security guard one of them.  His nametag reads Changbin and he is in a black t-shirt at least two sizes too small.  You do not begrudge him this, as you would do the same if you had biceps like that.  
“What happened?” he asks, crouching down beside Seungmin. 
“My friend just passed out,” Seungmin says.  He hoists you into his arms as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.  “Is there somewhere inside I can take her to sit down?  I think all the chaos out here overstimulated her.” 
“One second,” Changbin says.  He pulls a walkie-talkie out of a holster.  It buzzes with static as he turns it on.  “Hey, we have a collapsed woman in front of Entry Door B.  Can I have back-up clear a path, and someone with First Aid training?”  The walkie-talkie buzzes again and Changbin puts it away.  He stands up, waving away the small crowd that has gathered.   “Yah, everyone back up!  This is an emergency!” 
“It’s really not,” Seungmin says.  He scoops you into a bridal hold then struggles to lift you off the ground. “I just need – whew – somewhere I can – agh – put her down.  I can just – AH! – carry her myself.”
Naturally, it is at that moment a familiar voice descends from above. 
A familiar, deep, Australian-accented voice.
“Move aside, please.”  
“Oh no,” you say, eyes closed.   You open them just in time for a glitter-faced, freckled, blue-haired pretty boy in a SECURITY windbreaker to cut through the crowd.   
Unfortunately, Felix is just as good looking at this angle.  He waves away the gathered onlookers as he approaches, but looks at Changbin first. 
“I have First Aid,” he says.  “What happened?”
“I just found her collapsed,” Changbin says.  “Her friend thinks it’s the crowd.  Should we bring her inside?” 
Felix looks at you.  The concerned furrow in his brow immediately gives way. 
You smile innocently. 
“No,” Felix says, frowning.  “We shouldn’t.” 
“Oh come on,” you say.  You smack the ground.  “I collapsed!  I need help!”
“No, you need a ticket,” Felix says.  He crosses his arms and stomps a foot.  “Seriously, what is wrong with you?  Some of us have a job to do, you know?”
“Naaaur ya need a ticket, mate,” you say in a mockingly deep chest voice. “Some of us have jobs ya knaaaaur!”
“Do you guys know each other?” Changbin asks, looking between you and Felix – who is growing increasingly red in the face and breathing much harder. 
“I have no idea who this guy is,” Seungmin says. 
“Ah!”  Felix yells, spinning to Changbin.  “She doesn’t have a ticket!  She’s just trying to sneak in!”
“She doesn’t have a ticket?”  Seungmin asks, gasping.  He drops you onto the concrete, ignoring your yelp of pain.   “But I thought she – she told me we – I – I –“
You watch in betrayed horror as Seungmin pretends to faint, flopping down beside you on the concrete.  You sit up, very tempted to slap him across the face but not wanting to give Felix more reasons to accost you. 
“Seungmin,” you say.  You grab him by the shirt and rattle him around like a ragdoll.  “Seungmin, you bastard, don’t even think about it!”
“You.”  Felix stomps up behind you.  “Get off the ground and come with me.” 
“No,” you say.  “I don’t want to and you can’t make me.” 
You shriek – again – when Felix grabs you under the arms and hoists you to your feet.  He manhandles you with only a modicum of effort, dragging you away from your stupid traitorous best friend. 
You step on Felix’s foot deliberately and he swears.  For such a pretty thing, he sure has a filthy mouth.  You grab a fistful of his hair and tug, to which he cusses up a storm and pries your hand off his head.   
You hear the distinct buzz of Changbin’s walkie-talkie.    
“We have a collapsed man in front of Entry Door B.  Can someone who isn’t going to start fighting the patrons come help me move him?”
“He’s faking it!” you cry in protest, watching Changbin scoop Seungmin off the ground. 
Changbin disregards your outburst.  Seungmin gives you a thumbs up behind his back.  Felix, of course, doesn’t see it because he’s too busy dragging you away.  You are left to sputter in bewildered protest at the injustice of it all. 
Felix marches you to the sidewalk, far away from the stadium queues.  You are both out of breath by the time you get there.  Even so, you attempt to manoeuvre under his arm to run away.   In a few quick moves, he knocks you onto your ass. 
 “Holy fuck!”  You are panting now.  A line of sweat dots your hairline.  You wipe at it and stare morosely at this stupidly competent minimum wage security guard.  “What are you, like some kind of karate master or something?”
“Taekwondo, actually,” he says, brushing off his jacket.  Then he tips his head and stares down at you.
You would be lying if you said the intensity of his stare didn’t have your heart racing for an entirely new reason.  Danger and desire have always danced a close dance for your tastes.  Felix is not helping matters, tucking back loose strands of vibrant hair as he looms over you, wetting his bottom lip and staring. 
You cross your arms and feign nonchalance, but you can’t look away from him.  When he crouches down slowly to meet you at eye level, everything below the belt goes pitter-patter. 
“No ticket,” Felix says slowly.  “No concert.  Do you understand me?” 
You stick out your tongue.
“Wow, mature,” he says.  His departing farewell is another snarky eyeroll.  He shakes his head as he stands, muttering to himself in obvious frustration. 
So much for not a mean bone in his body.  That bully is all business.   
So hot. 
You huff and puff for a bit.  Your phone is going berserk in your purse, probably the boys trying to reach you.  Eventually you succumb to the necessary confession of your twice thwarted efforts.  Minho teases that you are losing your touch for real.  It makes angry little fireworks pop out of your ears.  
Plenty of occasions you have assessed a situation and deemed it unreasonably complicated, but quitting while you’re ahead is not the same thing as admitting defeat.  You do not lose.  This isn’t even about the concert anymore.  Fuck Hwang Hyunjin, he was never worth the pain of a wax in the first place.  No.  This is about your pride.   This is about your dignity.  This is about your honour. 
You are getting into that concert, one way or another.   
First, you gather intel.  This comes in the form of snooping, running between queues to figure out the easiest mark.  You don’t judge the guards by their appearances this time, because apparently this security team has secret taekwondo masters hidden in their midst. 
You watch their every move, calculating and determining your odds therein.  Based on visual research and Minho’s confirmation, it seems your best bet is the smiling guard who let Minho through.  His nametag reads Jisung and he is a veritable flirt. 
Flash him your tits, Minho texts.
Uh, no, I’m not that desperate yet.       
Second, with your intel now acquired, you get into the dwindling line.  The sun is almost set and a breezy summer chill dances across your cheeks.  The concert will be starting soon.  You shuffle behind the other stragglers, adjusting your outfit.  The jean shorts hug your hips and flash a nice chunk of thigh, and your shirt is already low cut but you figure another tug won’t hurt.  You also pull your flannel down your arms to look as flirtatious as possible. 
Jisung is barely looking at the tickets as he scans them, chatting merrily to the guests as he lets them through.  You pull up a random ticket on your phone, something to hold out while you distract him. 
“Hi,” you say. 
His eyes flick down to your chest, then back up.  He smiles brightly.
“Hi!” he says.  “You look nice.  Excited for the concert?”
“Oh, absolutely,” you say.  “You have no idea how much I’ve been waiting for this.  It wasn’t easy to get in.”
“I know what you mean,” he says.  “Tickets are hard to come by, and so expensive!”
“Ugh, tell me about it,” you say, leaning in while he scans your phone.   This was a bad idea because he looks down at your chest again, just in time for his little device to flash red.
“Oh, oops!” he says.  He smiles at you as he shakes his device.  “Sorry!” he says.  “I think you showed me the wrong ticket.  Could you pull up the right one?”
“Ohhh!” you say, looking down at your phone with fake surprise.  Life is so unfair.  “I’m so sorry… Jisung.  Hehe, that’s such a nice name.”
“Haha, thanks,” Jisung says.  “My parents picked it, but, yeah, it’s cool.  Anyway.”  He wiggles his device.  “Ticket please!” 
You keep smiling and giggling, even as you turn around under the guise of searching through your phone.  You glare down at the stupid device, keeping your back to Jisung while you do so.  How the fuck are you getting out of this?  You flip through screenshots then open your text messenger.  Minho’s last words of wisdom blink up at you. 
Apparently, you are that desperate. 
With a sigh, you put your phone in your purse and zip it shut.  You shrug your shoulders and plaster that fake smile on your face again.  With a swift of flick of your thumbs, you lift your shirt and bra up over your tits and spin around to look at Jisung. 
“How’s this for a ticket—”
Jisung looks surprised and delighted.  Jisung, however, is standing a few feet back.  Probably because he was told to step back.  Probably by Felix who is standing in front of you with his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face.  
“Wow,” Felix says.  “Just committing crimes now, are we?”  
You shove your tits back into your bra indignity, not even embarrassed, just annoyed. 
“Tits aren’t a crime,” you say. 
“Public indecency is,” he replies.  
“You’re… publicly indecent…”  Not your best comeback.  You glare at him while fixing your shirt.  “There’s no way they pay you enough to be riding my ass this hard.” 
“They don’t,” Felix says, grabbing your arm.  “Believe me when I say riding your ass has been my pleasure.”
“Twisted fuck,” you reply. 
You wave at Jisung as Felix tugs you away.  He waves back but does nothing to rescue you, because all men are traitors. 
You groan loudly as Felix leads you away from the stadium yet again.  “Just let me innnnn,” you whine.  “Why do you hate meee.”
“I don’t even know you!” Felix says.  He deposits you on a bench and takes out his phone.
“What are you doing?” you ask, eying the device.
“What do you think I’m doing?” he asks.  “You tried to break into a ticketed event three times.  You faked an injury.  You flashed yourself in a public place—”
“I wouldn’t have done any of that if you just let me through in the first place!”
“You cannot be serious.”  Felix looks ready to rip his hair out.  “You don’t have a ticket!  Why would I let you in, why would I – AH!  Why am I arguing with you!  Be quiet, I’m phoning the police.”
“The po— the police?!  How dare you!” You try to stand but he pushes you onto the bench one-handed.  He holds you there, palm on your shoulder, still way stronger than someone this scrawny should be. 
“Fine!” you exclaim.  “Fine!  You win!  I’m sorry, Felix, I was wrong.  I was wrong and you were right.”
Felix pauses.  “Really,” he says, sounding unconvinced. 
“Yes!”  You look up at him with the saddest, most watery eyes you can muster.  “I just wanted to see the concert but it was stupid to think I could break in.” 
He turns off his screen.  Success.   You watch him slip his phone in his pocket. 
“It’s not about being smart or stupid,” he says, the ire gone from his voice.  It takes a lot of willpower not to bite his fingers when he pats your shoulder.  “It’s about the fact we can’t always get what we want,” he says kindly as he crouches in front of you.  His hand goes from your shoulder to your knee, still patting it in a friendly manner. 
You bite your tongue because you want to tell him you liked him better when he was being a mean bitch, but that would be counterproductive to your escape attempt. 
It turns out, you don’t need to say anything, because he decides to be a bitch again anyway.  Felix looks at you with a too-sweet smile and says, “It’s about time someone taught you that lesson.”
“Um, excuse me?” you say, aghast.  You clasp your hand over your heart.  “Just who do you think you are?  First of all, you taught me nothing, I’m still a horrible bitch and I lied when I said you were right.  Second, you absolutely can get everything you want, you just have to want it enough to get it.  But you wouldn’t know anything about that.  You know why, Felix?” 
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head like he expected this, which he probably did, but you’re too far gone to retreat. 
You reach out and cup his face in both hands, turning it to you.  Those sharp eyes are unflinching, even with your fingers on his face.  You try really hard not to gulp. 
“It’s because you are a good boy,” you say.  “You always do what you’re told.  You always follow the rules.  I bet everyone thinks you’re the nicest guy on the team, don’t they?  I bet they call you cute little nicknames and all the nice little girls think you’re a sweet, innocent baby.  And you are, aren’t you, Felix?  You’re just such a good, good boy.  But me?  I’m not good.  I’m not bad.  I just like to win.  When I want something, I get it, because I chase it, and I don’t stop until I get it.  Until it’s all mine.”  You lean in close.  “Get it?” 
His gaze darkens, brows pinching.  You take his fleeting moment of vulnerability to shove him onto his back.  He sprawls on the ground with a surprised yelp.  You sprint away at top speed and flip him off over your shoulder. 
It’s a haphazard ploy at best but you are fresh out of plans.  What you need is distance between you and Security Guard of the Year, a breather long enough to come up with a final plan.  Maybe you can physically break in somewhere: an office window, a janitorial stairwell, something.  
You keep an eye out for potential openings as you run. 
And run.
And run. 
Hmm.  You’ve been running a long time.   Even with the head-start, Felix should have caught you by now.  You doubt he would have truly given up.  Felix had a deranged look in his eye, similar to the one you get when someone is trying to beat you at your own game.  He doesn’t want you to win anymore than you want to lose.  You suspect it isn’t about the concert for him either; this is a personal battle. 
You come to a gradual stop, hands on your hips as you catch your breath.  It’s quiet on this side of the stadium as the queues were on the opposite end. 
Quiet, yes.  Too quiet.   
There’s a stairwell that leads to second level just above your head.  Felix is good.  You have to give credit where credit is due.  If you weren’t a scheming nightmare with a penchant for con-artistry, he probably would have caught you.  But without turning around, you know he booked it up the stairs and is two seconds from springing an attack. 
You take off running, just in time for him to thump into the grass beside you.  You laugh at his strangled cry of frustration as he scrambles to his feet. 
Around the next corner is the parking lot.  You stop a split second to look over your shoulder and see him hot on your heels.   He discarded his jacket and is in a loose sleeveless shirt, revealing he does have some light toning to his lean body.  But you don’t stop to measure how proportionate it is to his strength, because he is focussed on you like a laser. 
Then he smiles.  A slow, slinky smile like a cocky predator about to swipe at its prey.  That cat has claws, nasty ones, and you almost want to get tangled in them.  Almost.  You want to win even more.   
And he just set you up for success.  There’s a SECURITY jacket on the ground somewhere nearby.  That’s your ticket in.  You just have to lose Felix in the parking lot and loop back around to find where he tossed it. 
You spare no time setting that plan into action, giving Felix a smile of your own before you run.  He thunders after you.
The pair of you weave in and out of parked cars.  He disappears for a second behind a row of trucks.  You whip your head around to figure out where he went, only for him to summersault around the corner and cut you off.  You yell instinctively but narrowly dodge his reaching hand.   He curses, running after you with his arm outstretched.   You duck behind a trailer and lose him, scurrying between some SUVs.  You peek at him through the windows, watching him turn in a circle to find where you went.  Smiling to yourself, you quietly but quickly back away.  
You leave the lot and run back the way you first came.  You find Felix’s jacket draped on a random bush. 
Your heart is practically singing with adrenaline.  Victory is in sight.  You push yourself to run faster and reach out with both hands –
— only to find yourself rolling in the grass, Felix’s arms tight around your middle as he tackles you to the ground. 
You push and pull at each other, cursing and scrambling very ungracefully.  You get out of his arms but he climbs on top of you, then you knee him in the gut so he rolls over, but when you start crawling he grabs your ankles and drags you back. 
Ultimately, he Taekwondo Masters you onto your front, hands clasped behind your back.  You kick your feet and wail despondently into the grass as he kneels over you, breathing raggedly and swearing again. 
“You’re a monster!” you shout.  “You’re a tyrant and a bully and you have no right to – HEY!”
He handcuffs you.
“Ha.”  He leans in close, speaking right into your ear.  “I win.” 
“That’s not fair,” you say.  “You can’t just—ahh!”  You wail in petulance as he lifts you onto your feet.  His grip on your bicep is unyielding so you are forced to stomp alongside him as he escorts you…
…back to the sidewalk.
“You’re not busting me?” you ask in confusion.  You thought for sure he was going to drag you into some shady office and plop you in a chair until the police arrived.   He would probably be super boring and professional about it, staring at you with his dumb horny eyes but not doing anything about it.  Nothing sucks more than being all trussed up by a pretty boy with manners. 
“I just want you to go and never come back,” Felix says. 
“Fine.”  You turn around and hold your arms straight behind you.  “But I’m like a wolf, Felix.  I have your scent for life.”
“Yeah, sure,” he says.  “Not how wolves work by the way.  But fine.”
“Oh wow, sorry.  Didn’t realize you majored in Wolfology.  You got any other fun facts?”  
“You are so—”
You smirk at his grumbling.  You are just biding your time until he uncuffs one wrist, then you whip around faster than he can compute the action.  With one cuff still attached, you grab the second and clamp it down on his wrist.  He sputters in bewilderment, at which point you snatch the keys.
“What are you doing—”  He tries to grab them but your joined hands make the angle too awkward.  You spin around together in a few circles, bonk heads twice, until finally you reel back and chuck the keys as far into the distance as possible. 
He stands there, mouth agape.  You tap your foot impatiently. 
When he realizes what has happened – that you have handcuffed yourself to him and thrown away the keys – he looks at you with fiery eyes, fierce enough you stumble.  He yanks your joined hands, the chain ungiving.  You watch as he goes through several stages of grief in a matter of moments.  Then he closes his eyes and breathes in and out.    
“Why,” he says slowly, “did you just do that?” 
“I dunno, Felix,” you say.  You plop down on the ground and sit cross-legged.  It forces him to bend over, your cuffed wrist dragging him down.  “Guess we’ll have to go inside and get some back-up keys.  And when I’m in the stadium and you uncuff yourself from me, I promise not to run away.”   
“That’s your plan?” he snaps.  “That’s your plan?” 
“What, is there an echo out here?”
“That’s your plan?” he asks again, his deep voice pitching up an octave.  He crouches down and shoves his free hand into his hair, shaking his head.  “This can’t be happening,” Felix says, more out loud to himself than you.  “Why is this happening.  Oh my god.” 
You squeak when he tugs on the chain, yanking you close, nose to nose.
“What if I just called for back-up?” he asks. “Or skipped that and went right to the police?  How would you get out of that?”
“Wait,” you say.  “Why aren’t you doing that?” 
“Because.”
He leans back as far as he can, sitting on his heels.  You duck your head, trying to meet his eye to no avail.  He clenches his jaw.
“Felix,” you say.  “Why aren’t you just calling for back-up?”
“Because,” he says through gritted teeth.  “The handcuffs.  Are.  Not.  Regulation.” 
You look at each other.  There is a long moment of silence. 
Then, “What!”  You cackle with complete and utter abandon. 
A very unamused Felix glares at you while you throw your head back and laugh. 
“You?” you cry, poking your finger against his chest.  “You?  You?  You are just walking around with a pair of handcuffs that you aren’t supposed to have?  What the fuuuuuck—”  You think you might die laughing. 
“Jisung gave them to me before our shift!” he exclaims.  “It was a joke because— Never mind! I don’t have to explain myself to you!  Hello.  Hello.”  He grabs your chin with his free hand and turns your face roughly to his.   He jingles your joined hands.  “Not regulation,” he says.  “There are no other keys in this building.” 
Silence falls again. 
Then, “Oh.”  You stare at him.  “Shit.” 
A minute later, you and Felix are scuttling around trying to find the key.  You must have a very good arm because it landed near the stadium and disappeared in some bushes.   
You and Felix keep forgetting your wrists are connected, reaching in opposite directions only to snap back together.  You are certain you are going to end the night with a few bumps and bruises. 
The entire time you are searching for the key, Felix is grumbling irritably.  He tears his way through a bush, his deep voice pitching up with a miserable whine when he can’t find it. 
“This is so stupid,” he says.  He throws a stick at the wall.  “I am a good worker.  I never break the rules.  I am not getting in trouble for this. You did this.  You did this to me.” 
On he goes, grumble, grumble, grumble, bitch, bitch, bitch. 
“It’s not like the key disappeared,” you say, pushing some pebbles around.  “It has to be here somewhere.” 
It is starting to get dark, the sky a deep purple.  The stadium lights blare down on you.  Felix uses his phone flashlight to beam extra light at the ground.  The only time he stops grumbling is when the noise in the stadium changes, the concert clearly beginning.  He takes time out of his busy searching schedule to give you a mean smile. 
“When we find those keys,” you say, “I’m handcuffing you to that railing over there and leaving you to freeze to death in your stupid tank top.”
“It’s not a tank top,” he says.  “It’s a t-shirt.  I cut the sleeves off.  And when we find those keys, I’m handcuffing you to that railing over there and phoning the police.”
“Well then,” you say, “may the best key finder in a slutty tank top win.” 
“It’s not a tank top.”   
You continue to search.  It is utterly illogical that the keys would just vanish but the longer it takes, the more concerned you get.   It just doesn’t make sense!  Things don’t just disappear!  The keys landed somewhere over here, so they have to be…
You see it first.  You sit there in a stunned stupor.  You swat at Felix with your cuffed hand.
“What?” he says without looking at you.  You continue to slap him until he forces your hand down, tangling your fingers with his.  “What!” 
You point.  He crowds in behind you to look over your shoulder.  You feel him exhale. 
“Please don’t tell me…”   
You both lean to look down the sewer drain.  He flashes his phone light over it.  Something silver glints back in the darkness. 
“Fuck!” Felix says.  He doesn’t stop there.  What follows is a string of cusses so unbelievably foul and complex that you honestly believe it should quality him for Pulitzer in poetry.  When he has exhausted every expletive in several different languages, he plops down on his ass and stares up at the sky with mute despondency.   
“So what happens now?” you ask.  “Do we fuck?”
“What?”  He looks at you with utter bewilderment.  “What the fuck?  Why would you suggest that?  What would that solve?”
“Nothing,” you say.  “But it would kill the time and couldn’t make things worse.” 
“You are insane,” he says.  “I am handcuffed to an insane person.” 
“Hey, ‘mate’, you were the one with the non-regulation handcuffs in the first place.  I could solve this problem real quick by phoning the authorities myself and saying some crazy guy put me in cuffs.” 
“I dare you,” he says.  “Try.”
“No,” you say.  And not just because you have a record with the police and they would never take your side.  But Felix doesn’t need to know that.  Well, you suspect Felix is smart enough to guess it, but he doesn’t need the confirmation.  “I’d rather make you suffer,” you say instead.  You sit back in an insouciant slouch like the whole circumstance is beneath your attention.  “Figure it out, pretty boy.” 
“Well,” he says, “apparently if you break your wrists then you can force them through the cuffs.”
“Ew!” You push him in the middle of his chest.  He doesn’t fall, but he does glare at you.  “We’re not doing that!  What a stupid plan!  You’ve been guzzling the hair dye fumes, buddy.  Think of a plan that doesn’t involve injury, thank you.” 
“I didn’t want to do this,” Felix says with another put-upon sigh, “but fine.  I have another pair at home so the keys—”
“Wait,” you interrupt.  “I thought someone gave you the cuffs today?  Why do you have another key at home?”
“I have another pair,” he repeats, “of the same handcuffs.”
“You—”
“Already own a pair, yes, move on.”  He aggressively pushes hair out of his eyes.  “He clearly bought it from the same place so my key should work for this one too.”
“So despite your uppity school boy routine, you do own non-regulation handcuffs and not just as a joke.  Wow, Felix.”  You giggle helplessly.  “Be careful or I might start to like you.” 
He is glaring at you, no surprise, but the tips of his ears blush pink. 
“Let’s just go,” Felix says.  “The sooner I get you off, the sooner I can forget about your existence.”
“You can get me off as fast or slow as you like—ahh!” 
Once more, the secret superman is manhandling you onto your feet.  Without pausing for breath, he turns and marches away.  You are forced to stumble behind his swift strides, your hands swinging close enough that your fingertips brush every so often.   
“How do I know you’re not gonna murder me?” you ask.
“You don’t,” he replies.
“How do you know I’m not gonna murder you?” 
“I don’t.”  He sounds more annoyed than afraid.  “But it sounds better than being cuffed to you forever.  I’ll take my chances.  Come on.” 
“Not like I have a choice,” you grumble. 
He comes to an abrupt halt and you crash into him with a sharp exhale.  He grabs your hand and tugs you close. You blink at him with surprise while he tips his head in that studious way.
“You’re right,” he says. “You don’t.  In fact, it’s almost nice, you forced to finally do what I’m asking.  If you’re not careful, it might even make me like you.” 
It is so cold and sarcastic. 
It gets you so hot. 
Seriously, what is with your stupid brain?  How does it cross the wires of fear and desire like that?  Felix is speaking at you with that deep, dark, nasty voice of his and your heart should be skipping beats in concern, not because you think he’s sexy when he’s being a bitch.  
You hide it from him well enough, glaring at him like he glared at you.  He just snorts and shakes his head. 
“What?” you ask. 
“Interesting,” he replies.  “Very interesting.”   
“What?”
“Nothing.”  He smiles politely, for a moment looking like the unassuming pretty boy you thought he was.  He bats his long eyelashes at you, smiles a coy smile, and squeezes your hand.   “Come on,” he says.  “We tried this your way and it got us in trouble.  Time to be a good girl and do it my way.  No, stop, don’t say anything.  Be quiet.  Just walk.  Let’s go.” 
You stumble when he tugs you after him.  Your mouth is hanging open yet again.   
You are proud to say that in your many years of bad girl shenanigans, you have never truly met your match.  You’ve played pretend a few times, let a couple losers think they won, if only because you liked the game of it.  But no one has ever really taken control.  No one has ever really beat you.  No one has ever come close. 
No one.  Until today. 
You glare at the back of Felix’s head, brain stampeding as fast as your heart.   Because finally, you’ve found him, your perfect match.  Lashed to you through the metal manifestation of fate’s red string. 
You didn’t know what game you were playing before, but now you do.
And you’re going to win.  
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generalllimaginesss · 4 months
Text
I just have this feeling that Quinn would listen to his girlfriend talk drama all day long, but he would give her the most common sense advice and it would make her frustrated. Like , no advice, just ears and the occasion opinion (but only if it agrees with her opinion).
A sweet little something for my fellow Quinn girls :))
Spilling the Tea…or Juice
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There’s many important things that Quinn Hughes was responsible for since becoming captain of the Canucks. Anything from communicating practice schedules to game day pep talks and so many things in between.
While all of his responsibilities were important, he considered being your boyfriend the most important. He was often tasked with being your voice of reason, talking you down from assuming the worse of things and making sound decisions when you felt impulsive.
If he kept a resumé of the relationship between the two of you, he’d definitely add he was one of the girls. He knew every detail that passed amongst the group chat with you and your friends, whether he wanted to know or not wasn’t really a choice that he had the luxury of choosing. You could say he made the decision when he chose to be your boyfriend.
It was a picture perfect Sunday in the apartment that the two of you shared, the sun shining through the blinds, dust circulating despite yours and Quinn’s best effort to clean the day prior. As you chatted away, Quinn poured the two of you some juice that he had pressed himself, his newfound hobby giving him joy along with your presence.
“I have to tell you something that you can’t repeat, okay Quinn?” You said, taking a sip from the glass while swiveling left to right on the barstool.
“Babe, who would I have to tell?” He chuckled, stealing some strawberry slices off your plate.
“So, you know my coworker? The one that got written up last week?” You stole a piece of cantaloupe off of his plate, perhaps subconsciously playing a game of retaliation.
“The one that decided that they didn’t want to show up for work one day?” He questioned for clarity.
“Yes, that one! Well there’s rumors going around the office that he knocked up the boss’s wife and he’s about to get fired. I was told this, but it may not be true…” Trailing off, Quinn’s eyebrows raised in surprise, a sweet smirk accompanying.
“So why are you talking about it if you don’t know if it’s true? Seems like that’s not fair…” His gaze was soft, but teasing. He knew that wasn’t what you wanted to hear.
“Quinn…that’s not the point!” You whined, his smile growing in response, “…what if he did get her pregnant? We need a TV show at work.”
“What if he didn’t, though. What if you talking about it is just keeping a rumor circulating?” His words were frustrating, too true, but not what you wanted. You wanted him to gossip, which he knew, but he was giving you straight facts.
“Yeah, well, that’s not what the girls are saying…”
He walked around the bar towards you, standing behind you as he rested his head on your shoulder. His arms wrapped around your torso, thumbs rubbing along you sides.
“Oh, really?” He whispered against your ear, “What are the girls saying?”
“They’re saying that it’s true.”
“Well that just means it’s facts, then, doesn’t it?” His fingers began tickling ferociously at your sides, squeals quickly followed as you desperately tried to escape his grip.
“Quinn Hughes, stop it!”
“What do the girls say about this?” He spun your stool around as he placed a gentle kiss to your lips, supporting your chin with his hand.
“Mmm,” You said between kisses, “…I think they would say that we should have a second course here on the bar…” You moaned.
You tried to deepen the kiss, but he pulled away, giggling as you whined about it.
“Has anybody ever told you that you suck at spilling tea?” You grabbed his hand, pulling him close to you.
“Well I guess it’s a good thing I drink juice…”
*
*
*
*
I love Quinn Hughes. That is all.
588 notes · View notes
raginglesbian2006 · 3 months
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Who's a good boy?
Lucifer x reader
A/N: I've wanted to write a romantic scenario for my second best boi (first is Alastor, obvi) so here we go. Look at how cute he is :3
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It was another day in hell, just as hellish as the day before. You couldn't complain though, having found a home at the Hazbin Hotel.
You were there at its doorstep the day the princess of hell proposed her idea on the news. Despite its bad reception, you knew you had to go visit. You had no clue why you were in hell in the first place, having made sure you were good when you were alive. So, a place in hell that was made for redemption and a chance to go to heaven meant the world to you.
Being in hell helped you get used to the manipulative and cruel sinners that walked down the streets like they hadn't just killed off a bunch of people two seconds ago.
Even though Charlie was an exception when it came to the people you'd usually meet, you hadn't expected her dad, the literal king of hell, to be such a sweetheart.
⊰──── 《∘◦♡◦∘》 ���───⊰
You were with the other residents of the hotel, decorating the place the moment Vaggie got on your asses about making the best first impression for Lucifer's arrival.
You had been tasked with baking cookies. Given your affinity for the culinary world when you were alive, you started on your task right away. You pulled out the glazed soft apple cookies, your favorite, from the oven and left it on the kitchen table to rest. You stood there guarding the dish, just in case Niffty tried to take some for herself.(She did but you held her back pretty easily).
"Ok guys, it's showtime!" Charlie yelled suddenly. You rushed to the hotel lobby with your tray of cookies and stood there with the others. You wished you had more time to tidy up but your flour-caked hair and apron would have to do.
Charlie opened the door to reveal a short pale man with a ridiculously large hat. That...was Lucifer?
"CHARLIE!" the man exclaimed, wounding his arms around his daughter's frame and hugging her tight.
"H-Hi Dad!" Charlie stuttered as she struggled for breath. Once she was finally let go, she took a deep breath in and showcased the somewhat okay-ish decor of the hotel and its residents.
You saw Lucifer bend down and give his attention to the little kit "Kee Kee" and then turn his attention to "Razzle" and "Dazzle". You chuckled at his behavior. No way was the original bad boy of hell this adorable.
After his unsavory introduction to Alastor, Charlie started introducing him to every one of you.
"Annnd, this is our resident baker! They make amazing treats for everyone from time to time!" Charlie said, introducing you to her dad.
"Greetings your majesty, it is a pleasure to meet you," you gave a little bow, "I made some cookies for you to try, if you like."
Lucifer picked one cookie from your tray and inspected it for a bit, before taking a bite. You did not know whether you held your breath because you were scared of his critique or because you did not realize how gorgeous he looked up close. He was an angel, alright.
His eyes lit up and he looked up at you, "This is excellent! You really have a talent in this."
Your face heated up at his compliment and you mumbled out a small thank you.
This was your very first interaction with the king of hell.
⊱ ──── 《∘◦♡◦∘》 ──── ⊰
After the fight against the angels and the rebuilding of the hotel, Lucifer started spending more time at the hotel to help out his daughter.
While searching for Charlie, he found you bustling around in the kitchen, preparing something.
"What are you doing?"
Your head hit the underside of the cabinet at the sudden interruption. You emerged out with a whisk in hand, nursing your wound.
"Y-your majesty, I was making a strawberry rhubarb pie...well, at least trying to," your eyes glanced over at the mess that was your creation. Instead of a flaky solid crust, you ended up with something that could only be described as "a lump" and your fillings decided to make themselves known outside the crust, spreading all over your pie- almost resembling a massacre.
You were usually good at stuff like this. You wondered what you got wrong with this particular recipe.
Lucifer hummed and asked for the recipe.
"I suppose it's only best to start over, shall we?" he said, as he started walking towards where the bag of flour was kept. You could only follow behind him, your face flabbergasted. You suddenly felt very nervous.
What you would come to find out, during this little interaction, was that Lucifer was really good at baking. Like, really really good. His hands were swift but precise when handling the dough and his instructions were clear and concise as the two of you worked through the steps to create the perfect rhubarb pie.
When you pulled out a successful pie from the oven, your eyes gleamed with excitement. You looked over at Lucifer, who was already getting ready to slice up the pie.
"Thank you for helping me out, Your Majesty, " you said, giddily, "Your baking skills are honestly out of this world!"
Lucifer laughed, his smirk widening, "Well of course! Just because I rule all of hell, doesn't mean I can't bake a mean pie!"
He looked at you and said, "And please, do call me Lucifer."
⊱ ──── 《∘◦♡◦∘》 ──── ⊰
Over time, the two of you bonded over your love for cooking. He would frequently join in on your cooking/baking escapades, sometimes acting as the taste tester for your new creations. You enjoyed his presence and grew comfortable with him as the days went on. Safe to say, he felt the same way.
One day, you decided to visit him in his workshop with a plate of freshly prepared caramel apples --something Lucifer himself taught you.
You knocked on the door, announcing your arrival, "Lucifer! It's me! May I come in?"
You heard a loud crash on the other side of the door and a very distinct "shit shit shit" coming from the king of hell himself. Your brows scrunched up in worry. What was that man up to?
You were about to barge into the room yourself but you were interrupted by the door opening to reveal a very disheveled Lucifer.
He called out your name, "Welcome to my workshop! What brings you here?"
As you entered the room, your eyes gazed upon the innumerable rubber ducks that spread across the area. You almost stepped over one as you made your way inside.
"Pray tell," you turned towards him, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, "What was that loud crash I heard?"
"What crash?" Lucifer chuckled uncomfortably, his eyes looking everywhere else but yours.
You sighed and placed the tray of caramel apples on his work desk.
"You do realize I've spent enough time with you to know when you're lying, yes?" you enquired.
He tsked, "Lying? pshhh, I don't lie!"
You have a half-hearted nod, clearly not believing his bullshit. He ignored your obvious sarcasm and moved closer to the delicious treats laid out on the desk.
"Oh my! You managed to make these all by yourself!" his hands reached out to one of them, taking a bite, "And they're delicious!"
You chuckled, "Well I did learn from the best, didn't I?"
His pale complexion reddened as he avoided your eyes once more, focusing more on the treat he was munching on.
You were about to ask him about the crash you heard again, but you were interrupted by a loud oink at the door.
"Fat Nuggets!" you cheered, as you got down on what little space was available to you at the mercy of the overbearing amount of ducks in the room.
You patted your knees which signaled to the little pig to come bounding towards you. You giggled as he jumped into your lap and snuggled into you.
You scratched his pinkish skin, "Who's a good boy?"
"Me."
Your hands paused, resting on the pig who let out a single oink. Your face started heating up as you looked up towards Lucifer, who was still focused on munching on the caramel apples, already having had two.
"I-I'm sorry...w-what?" you stuttered.
Lucifer turned around to look at you , mid bite. His face scrunched up in confusion, "What?"
Silence occupied the room for a few seconds, save for the pig oinking every now and then.
It was as if the light bulb popped up on top of Lucifer's big hat and his face started turning the same colour as the bright red caramel-dipped apples he was chewing on.
"I-..." Lucifer trailed off, suddenly finding it difficult to swallow his meal.
Picking up the pig into your arms, you got up. Unable to meet his eye, afraid that he would see your face flushed in embarrassment, you said, "Welp, I guess it's time for me to do..the thing I was...supposed to be doing!"
Before you could turn around on your heel, Lucifer reached out, "W-wait a minute-"
You gasped as he stepped on one of his rubber ducks and stumbled to the floor, his hat falling off his head.
"I'm okay!" he grumbled, as he got up, his hands dusting over his garments. He picked up his hat and brushed over it once, before putting it on his head. He looked towards you, confused to see your eyes trained on something lying on the ground.
His eyes followed yours and landed on a rubber duck. A rubber duck that bore a very similar resemblance to well...you.
Lucifer fumbled, picked up the duck, and hid it away from your sight,.
"Oooh boy, how did that get there, haha!" he laughed, awkwardly.
Your face might as well start boiling at this point.
"D-did you make that....for me?" you enquired, the pig already having jumped out of your hands and on his way back to his owner.
Lucifer's eyes widened as he sheepishly said, "Maybe?"
You walked closer to him.
"M-may I see it?" you asked.
Lucifer gulped once, before moving his hands from behind his back, to reveal the duck he had spent so much time working on.
You gently took his creation from his hands and held it in the palms of your own, your eyes lighting up as you looked at the mini-duck version of yourself.
"I-I promise, I wasn't being creepy," Lucifer started, "I was going to give this to you once I worked on it a little more. I know it looks a bit undone and-"
"It's lovely," your voice interrupted him.
His golden heart started beating impossibly louder at the sight of your widening smile. You were smiling...at something he made... for you. He worried if you could hear his heartbeat.
"I- I'm still not satisfied with the product, " he looked towards the floor, fixing his bowtie out of nervousness.
You let out a chuckle, "Is that what the loud crash was about? Did you fall out of your chair trying to hide this from me?"
He looked towards you, embarrassed that you'd guessed right. You laughed louder at his silent admission. Watching the king of hell squirm under your gaze as his face turned fully red, was indeed a sight to behold.
You tiptoed closer to him, took off his hat, and gently lifted his tomato-faced visage. His eyes widened as you cheekily smiled at him. Then you kissed his forehead, relishing in the way he stiffened. He was too adorable for your own good.
You stepped back, putting his hat back on his head, and placed the incomplete duck version of your likeness into his trembling hands.
"Do keep working on it till it is to your satisfaction, hm?" you said.
He nodded his head fervently. His face still held the same shade of red.
What came next was something he swore would be his undoing.
You leaned in closer and whispered in his ear, "Good boy."
It took him a while to recover from that assault.
409 notes · View notes
tasteleeknow · 1 year
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strawberries
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pairing: minho + jisung x fem!reader genre: smut. established relationship [boyfriend!minho]. boyfriend’s best friend [jisung]. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 5k
summary: your boyfriend catches his best friend moaning your name.
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Minho and Jisung were practically a package deal. Your boyfriend had even brought his best friend along on your third date. “He’s feeling down,” he’d said, the only explanation he’d offered. Luckily, you liked him. He was a little reserved at first, only opening up when you’d been dating Minho a few months. You ended up spending a lot of time with him without Minho, waking up to find your boyfriend had left for work and spending the day with his roommate instead. He was sweet, made you laugh, and you shared a love of Ghibli. It wasn’t until a year into your relationship that Minho had brought his friend’s little crush to your attention. 
Minho drapes his arm over you now, pulling you back into his chest. His lips brush against the skin behind your ear as he speaks. “Caught him again,” he mutters. “Got home late and heard him gasping your name.”
warnings: afab!reader. profanity. pet names. possessive behaviour. perv behaviour. food play. unprotected intercourse [dirty talk, breast play/sucking, cum kink, breeding kink, sharing].
“I still don’t believe you,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks warm. He’d been trying to convince you of his friend’s crush for months, informing you of multiple occasions he’d caught him touching himself to the thought of you. Jisung wouldn’t do that, you’d argue. Minho would always laugh, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers and making cooing noises. You’d slap him off, quickly changing the subject. 
He wraps his leg around you. “Do you need me to prove it to you? Hm?” he says sweetly, one hand moving up to cup your breast. 
You should say no. “How…would you do that?” you ask instead. 
He chuckles. “Tease him. He’s incredibly obvious if you pay a little attention.” 
You wiggle in his hold, rolling until you're facing him—his limbs still wrapped around you. “You want me to flirt with your best friend?” 
“As long as you remember you’re mine,” he says, smiling. He leans forward pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. 
“Isn’t it a little…mean?” 
“Hm? Not if we reward him.” 
“Reward?” 
He brushes your hair from your face. “Don’t you think he’s pretty? I’ve noticed you looking.” 
You frown. “I don’t look.” Of course you’d noticed he was pretty. How could anyone not. 
“It’s okay, baby. You think I'm prettiest, right?” 
You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers brushing through his hair. “Fishing for compliments, again?”
“I’m asking you to try and seduce another man, I need a little reassurance.” 
“Yes, you’re the prettiest and I love you.” 
He nods, humming in approval. “Alright, then you can fuck him.” You huff you a startled laugh, face falling into his chest. When you look at him again the corner of his mouth is turned up, like it always did just before he caused chaos. “I’ll watch,” he adds. 
“You’re serious?” 
He hums, rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him. “You’ve never heard him. He chants your name as he cums, so desperate. He wants you so bad, baby. It can be a Christmas present, hm?” 
You’d never considered it before. You never considered anyone else, completely fucking obsessed with the man under you. Now that you are picturing it, you can’t help taking him seriously. You imagine him sitting back against the headboard, stroking his cock to the sight of his friend friend fucking you. How could you not consider it seriously? You hum, pressing your lips to his. “Let me think about it,” you murmur. 
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The next time you see Jisung you can’t get the conversation out of your head. He asks if you want to watch Howl’s Moving Castle with him, offering you one of the peperos he’s snacking on. You nod silently, taking the little stick from him and taking way too long to finish it, nibbling at it as you pay zero attention to the movie. He’s wearing one of his many sleeveless tanks, his black hair flopping down over his eyes. He was very pretty. He turns to look at you suddenly, catching you ogling him. 
“What?” he questions. 
“Do you want some nutella?” you ask. “For the pepero.” 
“Sure,” he says, returning his attention to the movie. 
You suck in a few deep breaths as you retrieve the jar, preparing yourself. When you settle yourself back on the couch again you’re close enough for your thighs to brush together. It wasn’t unusual, you’d grown close enough to him that you were a little touchy sometimes. You wrap your hand around the lid, feigning a small groan as you subtly tighten instead of loosening it. You eventually nudge him, holding the jar out to him. “I think Minho screwed it on too tight again,” you say as he takes it from you. 
A half eaten pepero hangs from his lips as he wraps his hand around it, biceps flexing as he pops it off easily—handing it back to you casually. “Thank you, Sungie,” you say, wrapping your fingers around his bicep and squeezing gently. His eyes drop to his arm for a moment and you feel his muscles flex just as you release him. 
Minho was right. He wasn’t subtle at all. His eyes are on you more than the film from then on, watching as you dip pepero into the jar then sucking the nutella off each one—pushing them in and out of your mouth a few times before nibbling. It convinces you to carry out Minho’s plan, whispering your agreement in his ear later that night as he buries his cock in you. He cums seconds later. 
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When Minho buys you a new red bikini, you can predict what torture method he has planned for his friend today. He invites Jisung to the beach and reminds you to bring your sunscreen as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. When you arrive, you aren’t surprised at all when he shoves the bottle into Jisung's hands, asking him to help you while he sets up. Jisung stands there awkwardly, looking between you both until you feel sorry for him and beckon him over. “I can do it,” you say, taking the bottle from him and attempting to reach back over your shoulder to lather your upper back. 
“Help her!” Minho shouts after a moment, struggling with the beach umbrella. 
“Shut up!” you shout back, watching as your boyfriend smiles cheekily at you while his friend's back is turned. You roll your eyes. “Ignore him,” you say to Jisung, continuing to reach over your shoulder. 
“I can…I mean I can help,” he offers. “If you want.” 
“Yeah?”
He nods, his palm spread over his abs. “Thanks, Sungie.” You offer him a small smile and spread your towel down over the sand, laying yourself down onto your stomach. You close your eyes. It takes him a while to start. You imagine him kneeling beside you, looking back and forth between you and your boyfriend. Then his warm palms smooth over your shoulder blades, massaging the cream into your skin. You keep completely still, not wanting to spook him. He’s thorough, very thorough. You can’t help smiling into your elbow when he pauses, his fingers twitching a little at your lower back. Then he continues, his pinky finger nudging the hem of your bikini bottoms. 
“Think you got it all,” Minho says, startling the boy next to you. His hands are off you so quick you have to disguise your laugh as a cough, face still buried in your arms. You lift yourself onto your knees and after giving your boyfriend a quick glance, you wrap your arms around Jisung—pressing your chests together. 
“Thank you,” you say before sitting back, watching as his eyes flick down to your cleavage. 
“Swim?” Minho asks, helping you up. Jisung doesn’t stand. 
“I’ll come in a bit,” he says instead, hand positioned over his crotch. Minho nudges you as you make your way to the water. 
“He had a hard on,” he says once you're out of earshot. “In case you missed it.” 
“You’re evil.” 
He scoops you up in his arms. “And you’re hot.” 
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You’re lounging on the couch, your fluffy socks resting in Jisung’s lap when the doorbell rings. He lifts your legs from his lap to get it, returning with a small package. You pull your knees to your chest so he can settle back into the lounge. “I don’t remember ordering anything,” he says, pulling his car keys from his pocket to slice the tape from the edges. When he digs into the box and his eyebrows shoot up, you know instantly this was Minho’s dirty work. He lifts something green and lacy, his fingertips holding it like it could explode on him at any moment. You drop your head back. Oh god. 
“Um, I think…maybe this is yours,” he says. You lift your head. He’s not looking at you, eyes in his lap as he holds the small package out to you. You take it from him, lifting the lingerie from the box to inspect it. It’s a one piece, kind of. A few pieces of lace connect the bra to the panties. A large emerald green bow made of ribbon sits at the back, just above where your ass would be. It’s pretty and you can imagine Minho asking you to keep it on as he fucks you, slipping the panties to the side so he can enter you. 
“I must have… used your account to order accidentally,” you offer in explanation. “I’m sorry.” 
He shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he says. “It’s pretty.” He snaps his eyes to yours suddenly, like he’s startled by his own words. His cheeks are red. “I mean…it’s a nice colour.” 
“You think so?” 
“I…uh…yeah.” 
You turn it around, showing him the big bow at the back. “Do you think the colour suits my skintone?” you ask. “It’s a little different to how it looked online.” 
He’s quiet and when you look up at him, his eyes are fixed on the fabric. “Jisung?” you prompt. 
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, it’ll suit you,” he says quickly. You offer him a small smile and he jumps off the couch, backing away from you slowly. “I should shower,” he says before turning and disappearing. Just like that. 
You wear it that night. Your boyfriend turns you over, his hands smoothing over your ass as he mutters to himself. “Bet he imagined you like this, wrapped up for him like a fucking gift, mm?” 
When he pulls the panties aside and pulls you down onto his cock he asks you to explain how his friend had looked when he’d opened it. Tell him again how red he’d gotten. How quickly he’d escaped. He groans into your neck. “He fucked himself to the thought of you like this, didn’t he baby? Imagined your hot cunt around him. Do you think he muttered your name again? Hm?” You cum with a whine, biting into his forearm as he mutters in your ear. 
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Today is the day Minho announces, tugging you into a sitting position as you rub the sleep from your eyes. “Hm?” you question, hardly awake as he bounces around you. 
“I went to the market,” he says, lifting a bag up in front of your face. “Strawberries. Remember our second date when we went to that place that did chocolate fondue? First time we had sex,” he smiles. 
You drop back against the pillows, pulling the blankets up over your shoulders. “It’s too early for chocolate,” you mumble. 
He places the bag on the ground and climbs over you, pressing you into the mattress. “Tonight?” 
You wrap your arms around his neck, keep your eyes closed. “Yeah, sure.” 
“You still want to? Fuck him?” 
You hum, nodding. “He’s pretty.” 
“Not as pretty as me though.” 
“Mm, the prettiest,” you mumble. 
He presses his lips to your cheek then climbs off you, leaving you to drift back to sleep. 
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You get home that night to find both men in the kitchen, a complete mess of ingredients and dirty dishes covering every inch of bench space. Jisung is the first to approach you, a big bowl of melted chocolate in his arms. “Look what we made, “ he says, proudly. You reach up to wipe some chocolate from the corner of his mouth, keeping eye contact as you push your thumb between your lips to suck it off. 
“It’s yum,” you say before casually walking past him to embrace your boyfriend. “You gonna clean this up?” 
“Later,” he says, pulling you tight against him. 
“Mm, now. Jisung and I will wait in the living room,” you say, smiling sweetly and kissing him on the cheek. “Where are the strawberries?” His eyes flick between yours, then over your shoulder. Then he releases you, turning to grab a bowl of strawberries and passing it to you. 
“Don’t…start without me,” he says. 
“We’ll save you some,” you say, huffing out a small laugh at his true meaning. When you turn, Jisung is still standing where you left him—eyes fixed on the chocolate in his arms. You brush his shoulder as you pass. “C’mon, Minho will clean.” 
He makes an effort to keep his eyes on the tv as you both take turns dipping the fresh strawberries into the chocolate, even when you lick the mess from your fingers. You’re starting to doubt tonight will be the night Minho had planned and then your boyfriend enters—shirtless. 
“You lose your shirt down the kitchen sink?” you ask. 
“Got hot,” he says, lifting you onto his lap as he takes your spot on the couch. Jisung shuffles a little away from you both, practically crushing himself against the armrest. Minho reaches for a strawberry from the bowl in his friend's lap then dips it in the chocolate and holds it to your lips. You take a bite, keeping eye contact with your boyfriend as you wrap your lips around it. His eyes drop to your lips then he tugs you a little closer to his torso. When you’re finished chewing he offers you his fingers, letting you suck the chocolate from them. He presses them in and out of your mouth slowly, the noise of the television white noise behind you. 
When you finish you turn to the man next to you, his eyes fixed on you. You take a strawberry, dip it in chocolate, then hold it up to him. “You want one, Sungie?” you offer. His eyes drop to the chocolate covered berry between your fingers, then to your boyfriend. Whatever he sees in Minho’s eyes gives him the courage to lean towards you and wrap his lips around the strawberry, his eyes on yours as he bites down. 
“Nice?” you ask. 
He nods and when he swallows you offer him your fingers. He looks at your boyfriend again then leans forward eagerly, wrapping his lips around you. A small noise escapes his throat. Minho adjusts you in his lap, making his hard cock apparent beneath you. You take turns feeding each other, giving up cleaning the chocolate from your mouths. You eventually lean forward and lick it from your boyfriend's lips, not bothering to hold back your small moans as you taste him. 
He stands up, lifting you with him and taking a few steps towards his bedroom. Then he turns, eyes fixing on his best friend on the couch. “You coming?” he asks. 
Jisung looks between you both, mouth opening and closing a few times. “What?” he eventually gets out.
“Do you wanna fuck my girlfriend?” Minho asks, tone confident and steady as always—like it was a completely normal thing to ask. You watch Jisung place the bowl next to him, then pick it up again. He stands, rocking back and forth on his feet. You tap Minho’s shoulder, prompting him to let you down. Then you approach the nervous looking, very pretty boy. 
You take the empty bowl from him, setting it down on the small table by your legs. “Would you like to have sex with us, Sungie?” you ask, trailing your finger down his arm. His wide eyes flick between yours, his tongue flicking out to lick his plush upper lip. 
“You…you want me to…” he trails off. 
“Only if you want,” you whisper. “Do you want to?” 
He nods quickly, then looks over your shoulder. “Yes,” he says. 
“Come on, then,” your boyfriend says. You take Jisung’s hand in yours, offering him a small smile before following your boyfriend to your shared bedroom. 
Your boyfriend settles himself against the headboard as you sit Jisung at the edge of the bed. “Should I wear that thing I bought the other day?” you ask him. He swallows, bouncing against the bed as he readjusts his position. 
“I, uh… if you want.” 
“Tell me what you want,” you say. “Do you want me to wear it?” 
“Y-Yeah,” he breathes. You turn and dig through your drawers. 
“Good choice,” Minho says from his position on the bed. “She looks like a little gift in that thing. You’ll love it.” 
“You’re really… okay with this?” Jisung asks as you find the lingerie. 
“You know I hear you, right?” your boyfriend says in response. “Heard you jerking your cock to the thought of her.” 
“I… didn’t…I mean I—” 
“I want you to fuck her,” Minho interupts. 
“Sungie?” you call, pulling his attention back to you just as you pull your sweatshirt over your head. You aren’t wearing anything underneath and he’s quiet as he takes in the sight of you half naked in front of him. You look over his shoulder as your boyfriend pulls the rest of his clothes off, revealing his hard cock. He begins stroking himself, his eyes fixed on you. “Should take your clothes off,” you mutter to Jisung as you pull your shorts down your legs. His eyes snap from your chest as he stands, clumsily pulling the fabric from his body as you step into the lacy, green one piece. 
“Come here,” Minho says. “You wanna watch her crawl towards you.” 
Jisung does what he says, crawling up the bed to settle beside his best friend. You stand at the end of the bed, taking in the sight of them both waiting for you.
“Pretty,” Jisung mutters. Minho smiles, looking you up and down like he’s proud of you—like you’ve just won an award and he’s watching you perform your acceptance speech. 
“Mm,” he hums, stroking himself. “She is, isn’t she?” 
You wonder if that’s what this is for him, an extension of his own praise kink—stretched out to include you. It makes you feel warm, the idea that he thought you so much a part of him that compliments towards you had the same effect as ones directed at him. He pats his lap, prompting you to crawl up the bed towards him and climbing into his arms. You moan into his mouth, aware of Jisung’s eyes on you both. 
When Minho pulls back, he turns you—lying you back against the pillows and settling himself between your legs. “Come here,” he says to Jisung, pushing your thighs apart. “Tell me what you think about.” 
Jisung looks up at you then his eyes drop between your legs, lips parting at the sight of Minho tracing his fingers lightly over you. “What do you think about when you’re fucking yourself to the thought of her?” Minho prompts, eyes fixed on yours. His eyes say: See? Told you I could prove it. You want to reach down and kiss the smug look off his face. 
“I-I don’t think I can…I mean…” 
“I want to hear, Sungie. It’s okay,” you offer. It’s clear he still hasn’t processed the situation he’s found himself in, not confident enough to answer Minho’s question plainly. 
“Do you think about her tits?” Minho asks. 
His friend’s eyes trail up your body, pausing on your chest. He nods. “What do you think about?” Minho asks, fingers slipping under the panties to press directly to your cunt. Your hips jump off the bed. You’d been distracted by Jisung, taken off guard by your boyfriend’s movement. 
“I think about…about sucking them as I fuck her,” he whispers, just loud enough for you to make out. 
Minho strokes you gently, his lips curving up. You’re prepared for what he says next. “You can suck them while I fuck her,” he says. “I’m gonna feel her first, then you can have a go, yeah?” Minho says. 
Jisung looks to his friend, nodding eagerly in agreement. 
“Come see her pretty little cunt first,” Minho says, slipping the panties to the side fully and shuffling aside so his friend can take his place between your legs. “Touch her,” he encourages. 
Your breathing is uneven now, squirming halted by your boyfriend's hands as Jisung inspects you. He’s quiet as he hesitantly lifts his finger to your folds then very gently brushes over you. Minho’s hand pushes you down a little harder when you attempt to roll into him, seeking friction. “Pretty, isn’t she?” he asks, keeping his eyes between your legs. “Look at her puffy little lips. Pretty hole fluttering for cock.”
“So pretty,” Jisung breathes as the tip of his finger prods gently against your entrance. He toys with you for a bit before you reach down and grab his wrist, holding him against you. 
“You like Sungie touching you, baby?” Minho asks sweetly. You nod, grinding against the hand you hold to your cunt. “You want him to suck your pretty tits?” You nod again, a small whine slipping from your lips. “Then you have to let him go, hm?” 
You drop Jisung’s wrist reluctantly, gripping the sheets beside you instead. 
“My good girl,” he says, resuming his place between your legs.
 Jisung shuffles up beside you. When he hesitantly reaches towards you, you guide him to your breast—waiting until he takes a firm grasp before letting go. “S’okay,” you encourage, eyes squeezing shut as the tip of your boyfriend's cock kisses your entrance. 
“You heard her,” Minho says to his friend, pushing his tip just past your entrance and retreating again. “Take it out,” he instructs.
Jisung pulls the fabric down, letting one of your breasts free from the lace. He doesn’t hesitate this time, leaning down and wrapping his plush lips around your nipple. Minho pushes inside you as your back arches off the bed, hands grasping your waist to hold you against him. His thick cock pushes through your walls as Jisung’s wet tongue laps at your breast. You want to suck your boyfriend dry for suggesting this to you all those weeks ago. He pauses when he bottoms out, eyes fixed on where his friend moans around your nipple. You lift your hand to tangle in his soft hair, holding him to your chest. His other hand moves to your stomach, smoothing up your skin to blindly pull the lace from your other breast so he can cover it with his palm. He groans a little when you tug his hair lightly. 
Minho begins rolling his hips after a moment. “Feel nice?” he asks, brows furrowed. You recognise this look. He was holding back. He wanted to fuck you hard and fast until he filled you, but he was resisting. 
“Mm. Thank you, baby,” you manage to get out, reaching down to cover his hand where he holds your hip and squeezing him gently. He closes his eyes, a low groan slipping from his throat as he drops his head back. You want to sit up and latch onto his neck, bared prettily for you. You tug Jisung's hair a little harder until he releases you. His lips are wet, eyes glassy as he looks to you for instruction. 
“Sit behind me?” 
He’s quick to obey, lifting you gently and settling you back against his chest. Minho falls over you, sandwiching you between both their bodies as he begins moving. You can kiss his neck like this, the taste of him on your lips as Jisung plays with your hair. “She feels so fucking good,” he mutters, clearly speaking to his friend. “Did you imagine her? How tight she is?” 
“Yeah,” Jisung breathes behind you. “She’s…she’s tight?” 
“Fucking gripping me…sucking me back in every time I try and pull out.” 
“Fuck,” Jisung groans, his hard cock pressed against you. You imagine him leaking with precum, his hips rolling a little as he attempts to get a little friction. You feel bad for him suddenly. 
“You gonna… let him…let him fuck me?” you mutter into your boyfriend’s neck. 
“Mm, baby. He can fuck my cum into you, yeah?” Jisung makes a choked noise behind you. “Gonna fill you up first,” your boyfriend finishes. You whine, nodding as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Sound good?” he asks his friend, lifting his head to look at the man pressed to your back. 
You don’t hear any response but when your boyfriend drops his face into your neck, laughing softly—you imagine he must have made a non-verbal agreement. That was another thing your boyfriend liked: cum. The first time he’d taken you raw you’d seen a whole new side of him, practically feral as he’d rutted into you and then sat back to watch his cum leak from your swollen cunt. It doesn’t surprise you at all that the idea of watching someone else fuck it back into you excited him. 
He pushes you into his friend harder as his pace increases, grunting into your neck with each thrust. You’re completely surrounded by warmth, above, behind and inside. It only adds to it when Minho releases, warm cum flooding you as he whines into your neck. You clench around him, helping him draw out his high as he opens his mouth and bites gently into your shoulder. 
Jisung plays with your hair clumsily as your boyfriend catches his breath, cock twitching against you. “Did he fill you?” he whispers, as if speaking any louder will disturb your fucked out boyfriend. 
“Mm,” you hum, “So well. Got me all sloppy for you,” you breathe. 
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he says, voice a little louder now. “So hot…you make me so hard.”
“Yeah?” 
“Sometimes I—” he cuts himself off, somehow still shy after your boyfriend fucked you against his chest. 
“Tell me,” you breathe. 
“I listen to you. I listen to him fuck you and imagine it’s me.” 
“Then you act all sweet to my face?” you huff out a tired laugh. 
“Sweet?” he questions.
You hum. “You’re always so sweet to me, Sungie.” His fingers brush over your scalp, pulling a soft moan from your throat. “So sweet.” 
Your boyfriend lifts his head from your neck, clearly recovered enough to rejoin the conversation. “You want him to fuck you sweetly?” he asks, one corner of his mouth pulled up into a small smirk. 
“He can fuck me however he wants.” 
“Hear that?” he says, lifting off you and then pulling you off his friend’s chest. He switches positions with him, settling himself back against the pillows and pulling you against him before spreading your legs for his friend. His finger traces through your folds as Jisung watches, prodding his cum back into you. “Fuck it back into her,” he mutters. “Tear the lace off her first.”
“Like… break it? Tear it?” 
“Mm, I bought it, don't worry.” 
Jisung looks at you for a moment, clearly remembering when you’d told him the green lingerie was your purchase. You have a feeling he’s going to make you pay for that as he reaches between your legs and tears the fabric apart with both hands. His biceps flex with the movement and you drop your head back into your boyfriend, closing your eyes. 
Minho presses small kisses to your neck as his friend pushes into you. “Talk to me,” he says, lips fixed to your skin. “Tell me how she feels.” 
“P-Perfect.” 
“Mm, perfect little pussy,” he mumbles into your neck. 
You’re struggling to keep a grip on everything happening around you, officially overwhelmed. Then, Jisung starts moving. He doesn’t hold back like your boyfriend had at first and the while Minho continues muttering into your neck, all you can hear is the sound of his best friend fucking a load of Minho’s cum into you. It’s wet and messy and it pushes you over the edge, squeezing Jisung’s cock as your walls contract around him. 
You’re vaguely aware of your boyfriend speaking. To his friend, you assume. Then Minho’s hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head so he can kiss you. You’re too fucked out to help him, letting him move his plush lips over yours as his friend fucks into you. “Min,” you whisper eventually. 
“Mm, my love?” 
“You’re so smart.” 
He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead then lowering your head to his chest—letting you go completely limp against him. “You gonna fill her up?” he says, hands stroking up and down your arms slowly. “I know that’s what you want most. I’ve heard you. “Always her name when you come all over yourself…right?” 
Jisung says nothing, eyes fluttering closed as his grip tightens on your hips. He pulls you down a little with the intensity of his movements, a physical reaction to Minho’s words. “Maybe I’ll let you have her again,” he continues. “Let you milk your cock with her instead of just jerking off to the thought of it.” 
He’s quiet for a moment, and you think he’s relenting—giving his friend a chance to catch his breath. Then he goes for the kill. “We’ve been talking about going off birth control…getting pregnant.” 
Jisung snaps his eyes to Minho, then to you—his hips stuttering into you. “Would you like to suck on her again? Once I’ve bred her.” That’s the end, one last pump deep inside and then he’s groaning. His cum joins your boyfriend’s, spilling out around his cock. You don’t have to see your boyfriend’s face to know how he looks, fucked out and cocky. He’ll take this as a win, wave it around in both of your faces for the foreseeable future. You couldn’t care less. 
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we-are-maladaptive · 1 year
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Breeding ‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧ Stock
Shouto Todoroki x Cowgirl!Reader
REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Feel free to send me an ask and I’ll write it for you! Remeber to check the rules first.
CONTENTS: smut, breeding (duh), pussy pounding (teehee), hybrids, talks of past abuse, lactation kink, shouto is like in his late 20, early 30s, loss of virginity, master/pet dynamics, oral (f reciev.) Word Count: 2.7k (Proofread! :D)
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It seems like people like you are not so lucky as humans. Humans get to do whatever they want, whenever they want, and it’s not fair. Being strapped in a cage all day long.. waiting for someone to take you home n’ milk you dry, maybe breed you.
Breed... you hated that word. You just wanted a life where you could be free, and not have to worry about being someone’s pet. Unfortunately for you, you were one of the best stocks in the farm. The freshest of milk, and the prettiest of faces. This meant that you were being dragged for display almost every time a rich, old buyer came around, flaunting your pretty tits and perky nipples through the thin fabric of your white dress. Praying that the price tag clipped to your ear will be enough to drive them away... sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes the buyers will get a little too close, so when they get a bite on the finger or arm and they scurry away, a few lashes at your behind is better than staying with those creeps.
One day, though, another rich man comes inside... he’s a handsome man, and looks way more decent then the crooks that usually come in the store. You hear one of the clerks scurry in his direction-
..”Oh my! Hello good sir! What are you in for today?”
“I’m here to purchase a cow.”
“Oh! I see. Is there any type you are interested in?”
“...Your best cow.”
A pair of heavy footsteps were walking to your cage, but you didn’t pay any mind to it, too engrossed in your own thoughts. You were always so shaky during a time like this, what if the price, or a bite on the arm, isn’t enough to drive them away? You can’t stay here forever...
“I’ll take her.”
Your head perked up immediately.
“O-oh! Are you sure you want to buy her? You haven’t even touched her ye-”
“I said I’ll take her. Do I need to repeat myself again?”
“Of course not sure! The price is 300,000 yen. She’s of high value.”
You looked the man in the eyes, his gaze softened when he met your eyes, maybe because they were currently filled with fear.
His eyes met the clerk again.
“...Seems fair. Lead me to the paperwork. If there's anything else I need to know, do tell me.”
...
You were terrified.
This man was large, and could easily overpower you. You stood no chance against him, so you stayed quiet and timid in the back of his car.
“Where...where going?” Dumb thing. Could barely manage to understand a few words.
“..We are heading home. You won’t be familiar, but don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”
Home? You have never had a home before, always stuck in the cage. He said it so gently too, maybe it’s worthless to be so panicky.. he seems sincere.
“Moo..”
...
When he pulled into the driveway, you expected to be dragged into the house, but he held you so softly. So gentle then you felt almost compelled to follow him, and that's what you did.
“Hungry..”
“You’re hungry, hm? What do you usually eat?”
“..Moo?”
He sighed. He wasn’t going to get very far when it came to communication. It seemed as though you could only understand basic words. The man fed you plenty of fresh strawberries, and kiwi. Much to your delight, since all you ate back at the farm was slop filled with hormone inducing protein.
“Who?” Is what you asked him. If you were going to stay here, you at least needed a name. “Shouto, is my name.”
“Sho...shoto..?”
“Yes, you got it.”
Shouto. That was his name. It’s not very hard to pronounce either.
It started to get late, and you had a hobby of following him wherever he went. He could tell by the clank of the cowbell he placed around your neck.
“Sleep?” He assumed you were tired after the trip. You followed him around to this somewhat pile of pillows and a blanket. It was soft, but still sturdy, since it was placed on the floor.
...
The next morning was filled with ache. You felt so heavy. Practically dragging across the floor into his room where he slept. You stared up at him and whined until he started to stir.
“Mmm..what is it?”
“Hurts.” It did hurt, the ache in your hard breasts was hard to ignore at this point. Milk threatening to spill all over and make a mess on the floor if you moved the wrong way.
“Right. I know, come here...”
He pulled down the top of your dress, and your breasts spilled over. He gently grabbed one, and sucked.
It was such a strange feeling.. it was reliving, but your nipples were so sensitive, you couldn't help but whine whenever he sucked so hard. The rich, warm milk flowed into his mouth, and when he began to coax you into his bed, you flinched a little.
“No... no breed.”
“No?” He was rather confused. One the papers and documentaries he read prior, it seemed that almost all cows loved to be bred and filled to the brim. It seemed you were the exception though. It was understandable though, and he wasn’t going to make you do anything you weren’t uncomfortable with, yet.
“Alright. Are you feeling better?” 
You nodded. You were still sleepy though, since it was still early in the morning. You snuggled up against him, much to his surprise. Seems like you like his mattress more than the floor.
“Nuh-uh. You need a bath before you can get in my bed, missy.”
“Huff.”
...
It was around 9AM now. This bath was a lot more soothing then you thought it would be. While you were marveling at the bubbles in the bath, Shouto sat at the edge, but he was internally struggling a bit...
Your body looked amazing.
The way droplets of water ran from your hair into the crevice of your breasts. When you lifted yourself up a bit to get out of the water, he could see the fat of your ass, and even a little peek at your cunt too <3.
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Shouto wasn't aware of what you were doing right now, probably wandering around the house, but he wasn't worried about that recently. Right now, he wanted to figure out how to make you more.. comfortable. You had pushed away his advance to fuck you earlier, and he was currently fighting the urge to find you bend you over, but that's not very comforting. He understood that you had just gotten here, and it was a very sudden change.
After a while, he decided that the best course of action was patience, and to let you feel a little more at home via gifts or just exploration. He had gotten you a pretty decorated bell that went around your neck, and would let you snuggle with him on his bed as long as you showered or didn't run around in the grass looking for butterflies in his garden. His bed was very soft, and you cried and whined at him whenever it was time to get up.
After a week of being there, you felt a lot more at home. You were able to get down the basic layout of the house now, so you no longer got lost. It was a very large house, and so you would wail for Shouto, so he could come find wherever you were.
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It was late into the evening now. You once again lay in Shouto's large garden tub, Shouto was also in the tub behind you, gently scrubbing away the mud on your shoulders, you were extra dirty after planting face-first into the ground. You tripped over yourself after trying to snatch a pretty monarch butterfly. Shouto helped you with wiping the dirt off your face when he found you, but still got himself dirty in the process thanks to you swinging your muddy tail around.
...Once you were finally clean in the tub, that's when Shouto decided to advance. He pressed you back onto his chest, and placed his hand on the lower part of your stomach. You tilted your head to look at him, curious to see what he was doing. You shuddered slightly when he pressed his lips on your neck, right above your collarbone. You tensed when he started to suckle on your neck, so he used his other hand to caress your thigh, and lifted it upward to hand over the edge of the tub, he did the same with the other leg. Your legs were now draped over the tub, giving him access to your more intimate area. He stopped sucking on your neck and again placed his hand on your lower stomach, sliding down very slowly. He whispered in your ear when you started to whimper; "Shhh, I promise I'll take good care of you. Just relax for me.'' You started to melt in his hands, he's taken good care of you ever since you got here, so you should be able to trust him. You were just scared. Scared because of the things you witnessed back at that old barn. Looking at Shouto's different colored eyes makes everything numb, so you nodded at him. He softly smiled at you, and slid his hand on top of your cunt. You stiffened slightly, so he didn’t toy with you just yet, he wanted you to get comfortable first. When Shouto felt you slightly relax into his arms, he smiled at your soft whimper, because now he had placed a calloused finger onto your swollen clit, rubbing in slow circles.
“How’s that feeling, baby?” He was taunting you now, his fingers slowly picking up the pace, stilling you with his other hand when you started grinding your hips into his fingers. “Ah….ah..” You were really trying, you were. Nothing was coming out of your mouth coherent enough for him to understand, but it was enough to make him chuckle at your attempts, a simple puff of air from his nose.
The fingers on your clit were relentless now, the circles had gotten faster, and it was hard not to buck away from his touches. Something in your core was aching to be let out, but you had no idea what it was. Your whimpers turned to soft moans, and soft moans turned into a mixture of inaudible pleas, hiccuped sobs, and loud whines. You didn’t know what you were begging for, but Shouto did. You were on the edge, you slammed your eyes shut in preparation for what was about to happen, but it never came. A disappointed noise came from your lips, and Shouto let out a light laugh at your pouty face. “Don’t worry my dear, I’ll take care of you soon enough.” He pressed a kiss to your ear and whispered something that made you shudder;
“I want you to cum on my cock, love.” With that, he lifted you from the tub, earning him a squeak from you. Using the heat of his body to dry you both at an unfathomable speed, and when he deemed you “dry” enough, he hoisted you over his shoulder and dropped you on the edge of the bed in a playful manner. He gave you no room to complain or whine at him, and instead dragged your rear towards his face as he kneeled down on the floor. Your mouth was opened to protest, but before you could manage to get a word in, your thoughts changed immediately as his mouth started to suckle on your clit. Instead, you let out a loud moan at his ministrations.
He hummed in content at your cries, and the vibrations furthered your pleasure. After a minute, he slid his index finger into your walls, curling upwards in hopes to find that soft spot, and he did. You threw your head backwards, and let out a cry of pleasure. When he deemed you wet enough, he placed another finger in. Curling up into that soft spot in your cunt, and he picked up a nice rhythm too. He curled his fingers particularly hard, which made you slam your hand over your mouth, much to his displeasure. He stood up from his position and pulled you upwards into the pillows of the bed, your legs now bent over his shoulders. He tilted your chin upwards when you tried to look down to see what was about to go inside you, however he wouldn’t let you. If you did see it, you’d probably freak out by how large it was, so it was best to avoid that. 
“You’re still so shaky, sweetie. I promise I’ll be very gentle with you, yeah? I don’t want to break you after all.” He smiled down at you when you nodded at him, your teeth biting at your plush lips and eyes slamming shut as you felt the rather large tip of his length prodding at your entrance. “Shh.. hey, you're okay. Look at me. I want to see the look in your eyes as I’m deep inside you, love.” As your eyes slowly opened you decided to grip at the sheets instead, if you bit your lip too hard it would bleed. He buried his face into your neck, as he couldn’t contain his groans and grunts either, opting to release them into your neck, his breath on your collarbone sending shivers down your spine, you could feel him gripping the sheets, and you could feel his cock prodding deeper into your sopping pussy. It hurt, it really did, but it was hard to focus on the pain when he held you so softly.
You had never felt any type of affection in your life, back at that barn. This pain was nothing compared to the lashes you used to receive back there whenever you made any type of mistake. His love was foreign to you, his touches, his affection. It was not what you expected when you first came here. You had thought he was like the others, he’d take, take and take some more until there was nothing left of you. To your surprise however he was giving you something. Giving you food, love, affection, something you’d never thought you would receive. This pain was nothing, nothing at all.
You weren’t really given any room to think when the pain did subside.
Pleasure. Pleasure in its rawest, most carnal form. It was something you never felt up until now. It was like electricity, flowing up and down every vein in your body, it was the only thing you could focus on, if you tried to focus on anything else you might break into pieces. Shouto was saying something, but it was drowned out by your cries. Everything seemed like a blur, the noises of your skin slapping together, your moaning, his grunts, all of it was hazy, other than the overwhelming sensation in between your legs.
Panic crawled its way up your spine when that sensation got a little too intense to handle, that feeling from earlier, something wanting to snap inside. Your breathing got sporadic and irregular, and Shouto noticed and hushed you.
“Hey.. it’s okay. Let go for me, yeah? I got you, you’re safe.”
You tried to plead with him, with the little English you were taught, but he wasn’t having it. He knew what was best for you, afterall.
You tried too hard to hold it in, but when he placed his fingers on your clit again, you knew you couldn’t contain it any longer.
You opened your mouth in a silent scream, head thrown back, your hair a mess, and nails raking at his back.                                   .. and then everything went quiet for a while.
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Your eyes felt heavy when you woke up. You weren’t out for long, it was still early into the night, the moon still shone in the same place as when you and Shouto were- oh.“Hi, sleepyhead.” You jumped slightly as the voice beside you, groggy and yet still full of love. Shouto’s hair is a mess, just like yours. Instead of speaking, you instead decided to nuzzle your face into his neck, and he replied with a hum. He kissed your forehead and stroked your back, it couldn’t be any better than this. All those years of isolation and abandonment, you have finally found something good, someone good in your life. You couldn’t bear to see him leave you.
Shouto was about half asleep when his ears perked up to the sound of someone sniveling, it was you. You were crying, in his arms. He pulled your face out, as it was still buried in his neck, and examined your watery eyes and red puffy cheeks with a frown on his face.
“Please… don’t leave me.”
He smiled softly at you, kissing your tears away. “I won’t ever leave you, I promise.”
With that, you both fell asleep. Even though you were a cow, you were still a girl. You had at least half the mind to think of girly things, which included dreaming of what you and Shouto’s kids would look like, and what you would name them. 
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