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bonitanightmxres · 7 months

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Haunted (Part II) || SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!reader

MINI SERIES SYNOPSIS: It was hard trying to move past Simon's death, but it’s even harder when the third anniversary is looming and the nightmares are back.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: A rough night and late start to your morning, nearly makes you late for an important appointment... lucky for you, a close friend steps in.

WARNINGS: angst, language

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

With a racing heart and sweaty skin, your body jerks awake like it had just been brought back to life. A pounding headache settles itself around your head, making it impossible to pinpoint exactly where the pain is coming from. Your eyes are wide open, trying to process the morning glow of the sun through the window, but it only adds to the throbbing sensation in your head, and your vision is fuzzy. When you use the back of your hand to wipe your eyes, it’s then that you realize you’d been crying in your sleep, the tears responsible for your morning blindness. Those damn nightmares. They’d come back to wrap its noose around your neck a final time and kill you at last. You were no stranger to them, but considering that it’d been over a year since the last one, it was pretty fucking irritating to have to deal with them again. The four-legged and furry beast in your bed perked his head up, recognizing your sudden distress. He moves his body closer to yours, laying his head down on a pillow by your side and offering his support; he’s done this before. Thank God for dogs.

“It’s okay, Riley,” you say reassuringly and give him a pet on the head. The German Shepherd closes his eyes in comfort. “It was just a nightmare.”

The buzzing of your phone captures your attention and you debate ignoring it; but by now you’re far too awake and the sun is too bright to even consider falling back asleep; besides, going back to sleep while images from the nightmares were burned into your eyelids would have just been self-torture.

MACTAVISH: You better be awake, I’ll be there in 30.

You sit up quickly, trying to gather your thoughts and get your days together.

Shit. It was Tuesday. Anxiety settles within your body, making you suddenly feel nauseous. Great.

While you hurry through your routine, it’s quiet, except for the light snores that come from Riley’s nose as he stretches across the bed. Must be nice, you thought, to be a dog and free of troubles. By now you were used to the lack of sound, the way that your own voice bounced off the walls and carried a small echo; but the little noises that came from Riley were the only indication that you weren’t alone. Thirty minutes goes by fast, and you’re skipping half your makeup process and squeezing into your jeans and sliding into your shoes. A heavy pounding on your front door nearly sends you tripping over your feet, scaring you as Riley jumps off the bed and hurries down to see the noise. He growls as he approaches the door, but waits patiently for you to open the door so he can assess the threat. As you look out the peephole and see a certain man with a mohawk, you roll your eyes.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you curse as you open the door and let him in.

“Next time, maybe you could, y’know, refrain from beating down my door like you’re a damn cop.”

Riley, who immediately recognized Soap, wagged his tail excitedly and approached the man, who dropped to the floor and played with him. Soap chuckled, “Well if you would remember to wake up on time, I wouldn’t have to.”

You rolled your eyes. With a fast-beating heart rate, you wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans. “Do you want a coffee? Or tea or something?” You offer, walking toward the kitchen. Soap raises an eyebrow. “Is it made already?”

“Well… no, but–”

He shakes his head quickly, “No thank you then, we don’t have time.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll just take a second.” You start to pour water into the machine, and get mugs out of your pantry, until you see the unimpressed look on his face.

“I know what you’re stalling, and it won’t work this time,” Soap grabs your purse off the hook and slings it over his shoulder before opening the door for you. “It’s time to go. We’re going to be late.” Sighing, you drag your feet along the ground and trudge over to Soap. He locks the door behind you, and you climb into his truck without another word.

Even as you’re midway through the car ride, he still hasn’t bothered to turn on the radio, or make conversation. He’s focused on the road, surprisingly, and his jaw is clenched. Quiet Soap was… nerve wracking to say the least.

He groans, muttering curses when you’re stuck behind a long line of cars on the freeway and notices the time. “Fuck. I knew we should’ve left earlier.”

When he glances at you, you could practically feel him blame you. It doesn’t leave a pleasant feeling in your stomach, either. That, combined with your morning anxiety is enough to make you want to cry. Instead, you offer a meek apology, “Sorry…” Soap glances at you again, but this time his gaze softens. “It’s not your fault, I should’ve picked you up earlier.”

“Yeah, but if I would have just listened to Price when he said to go to the auto shop, my car wouldn’t be sitting in my garage with a dead battery and God knows what else is wrong with it.”

With a chuckle, Soap nods his head, agreeing with you. You’d always had a problem with listening to people, much less to those who obviously knew what they were talking about—like Price with the car, and Simon with the lightbulb all those years ago—and it always seemed to bite you back in the ass. By now you should’ve learned your lesson, but Soap figured that it would be a long time before you learned anything.

Traffic moves slowly as cars sit bumper to bumper, and Soap is visibly annoyed with it. You, however, are not complaining. Maybe if traffic takes long enough, your appointment will get canceled and there would be nothing to do about it except to reschedule; then when the new date comes around, maybe you’d “accidentally” sleep in or forget about it altogether. That was wishful thinking, though. If Soap could help it, he’d drag you there himself, the way that he was practically doing now.

“So,” you cringe at your pathetic attempt to break the silence in the air and try to ease Soap’s mood. “You still seeing the vet from the animal shelter?” He shakes his head and sighs, “Nah. We were on-and-off again too much. She hated how much time I spent away, and worried all the time. The split was mutual though, we’re on good terms.” “Oh,” your heart sinks. “I’m sorry. She was nice.”

“It is what it is, y’know?” He shrugs, shaking it off. Soap could brush it off as much as he’d like, but you could see it in his eyes that this one hurt. “Men like us don’t get the happy ending.”

With a sympathetic smile, you let out a small sigh.

Men like us don’t get the happy ending.

You thought about the vet he’d dated casually throughout the years and wondered if this had been the longest time he’d been connected to someone–despite the on-and-off circumstances. Was she heartbroken? Did she miss him as much as he seemed to miss her? Maybe Soap had been her first relationship in a long time. Maybe it hurt her to let him go, but knew it was better for her own well-being. The more you thought about her, the more you realized that the women don’t get a happy ending either.

Soap parked the car of the business center downtown, where all the shiny buildings sat together in a cluster and the people who walked the streets had outfits that looked like they were worth more than your whole life. “Well, we made it in time,” he says, turning off the engine. “We should head in now.”

The everlasting anxiety still simmered in your blood as you clutched your knee nervously. “I don’t…”

He sighed, grabbing your clammy hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know you don’t feel good, and I know you don’t want to, but you have to, okay?”

“I just… I don’t think she likes me, can’t we just find a different one?”

“A different therapist who’s as good as this one?” He raised a brow, and immediately shook his head when he saw your mouth open to answer what was so obviously a rhetorical question. “No, sorry darling. I don’t take recommendations lightly, especially if it concerns you,” he nudges you out of the car, and you do as told. Your legs shake beneath you and the world spins, and as much as you’ll never admit it, you know that Soap is right. “Besides, Gaz says this one works wonders. It's only the third appointment, so you just gotta give it time to work.”

As you take a deep breath and shut the car door, your neck strains as you stare up at the daunting building ahead. It’s tall, giving skyscrapers a run for their money and full of shining windows that reflect the sun brightly.

You already know your way to the elevator, practically able to get there with your eyes closed, and press the button to the floor number that will get you to your therapist.

“Ready?” Soap asks as the door slides shut. He notices the little tremble in your body as the elevator dings with each passing floor. What was there to worry about? You thought, trying to rid the uneasiness in your bones. It’s only the third appointment, When the elevator lit up and opened its doors on your floor, you looked at Soap for a little encouragement. You returned the small smile he gave, taking a deep breath before letting it out, “Ready.”

—

Dr. Fernández scribbles down notes in your file, and watches from the corner of her eye as you absentmindedly bounce your leg. The click of the giant grandfather clock ticks loudly in your ears, despite the fact that it sits on the opposite side of the room. Every now and again she glances back up at you with the same blank face that irritated the fuck out of you. At least if she gave you a look of disgust, you’d know where you stood with her. But the truth is, you’re too tired to care today, not after being unable to sleep.

You’re lost in a crowd of people, alone, frantically searching for him as they busily bump your shoulders, pushing past you. You yell his name, crying out for help, but no matter how loudly you scream, no sound comes out. Running doesn’t help, your feet only move in slow motion, practically keeping you in place. Your eyes catch sight of a tall man dressed in black gear, and you reach out, grabbing his arm. Finally, your heart beat slows to a normal pace, recognizing the familiar patches on the sides of his vest. When he turns, you feel safe, and desperate for a hug. But the mask on his face is bloody and torn. He approaches you closer and closer, until he towers over your frame and you can see his eyes rolled to the back of his head, lifeless and a sickly shade of gray. When he reaches to take his mask off, you take steps back.

No… no, no, no…

You can’t seem to move fast enough, pushing your way through the crowd and away from him. Right when you think you lost him, you run right into him again like suddenly he’s teleported right in front of you.

Suddenly, everyone around you is identical to him—tall, menacing clones whose intimidating size could crush you in an instant. They all surround you, reaching for their mask, and the blood drips like a faucet from their faces onto their clothes, and pools at your feet. You swear you can see real bone and tattered flesh as they begin to slide the mask off their skin, but you’re not sure and you really don’t want to find out. Squeezing your eyes closed before you can even see a glimpse of the final, grisly image, you fall to your knees, crying and hopeless as the circle of clones closes in on you. Your dream-self is aware of the chaotic nightmare going and you can feel the tears coat your cheeks in real-time. Part of you actually feels like you can feel his arm snake around your waist, the way he did when you had a bad dream.

That’s what made you jerk awake. His embrace had felt so real, you’d forgotten for a moment that he hadn’t really been there in bed with you…

Sitting across from your therapist for the third time this month, you wait for a response from her. You look down, averting her gaze, tapping your feet together. This, of course, was one of the things you hated about her. She’d practically forced you to cough up what had been eating away at you for the last month, and yet here she sat — cold and silent. She catches your attention by handing you a box of tissues. Tears had dripped down your face and onto your clothes. It would have been embarrassing, but you were way past that point now.

“They didn’t even let me see him.” You say, remembering that heart-wrenching day they’d flown his body overseas. He was already in a casket, and you’d wanted so badly to see him one last time. You still remember the shatter of your heart when they said you couldn’t. “It would traumatize me, they said. But what good did that do?”

Dr. Fernández was quiet as you spoke, occasionally nodding, letting you know that she was listening. Sometimes that’s all she did–let you talk. But having to relive the most horrific experience in your life just so some expert with a degree could tell you to move on like you already hadn’t worked on that just seemed like a sick game.

“I cruelly kept thinking about what had happened to him since I couldn’t say goodbye… I kept wondering if… if he even still had a face…” You explain. It was a gruesome thought, you knew that. Completely sickening. But what other reason did the military have for keeping you from opening that box up? “That was when the nightmares started, I think. I punished myself and now I’m paying for it.”

She crosses her arms, leaning back into her chair, “What do you mean by that? You’re not the one who killed him.”

“N-no, but I might as well have…” It angers you just thinking about it, all the things that should have gone your way. “He was supposed to be done with the military, you know? He had a small mission before he left me for good… he said he’d quit if that’s what I wanted, but I knew better. He got anxious when he was home, and nothing made him feel more useful and proud than when he was fighting with his team…and I didn’t want him to change who he was for me…”

“But?”

“But I should’ve made him quit… I should’ve made sure he knew he was so much more than just a soldier… that he was useful without that stupid fucking mask…”

“You sound angry.” Dr. Fernández notices the way your face scrunches up with rage, the fury fighting behind your eyes like those are the only two things keeping it from spilling out and engulfing the entire world.

“I am angry!” You shout, becoming embarrassed because that hadn't been your intention. “He–”

I promise I won’t leave you alone for long.

“He what?” She asks.

“Nothing…” You sigh exasperatedly. It was no use telling her of the empty promise Simon had left you with. What good would that do? She'd probably just tell you to forgive and move on, just like the old therapist. “ It’s just… it’s been almost three years, and I’m used to being alone, to the quiet. I’ve learned how to deal with it. I don’t sit around crying for him all day, I get up and I go out, I have fun, and I do what I need to do…”

“And?”

You shrug your shoulders, shaking your head, feeling so stupid as the words begin to pour out of you, “And it is what it is, you know? I-I mean, sometimes I just miss him. I miss him in the park where we used to have lunch. I miss him in the grocery stores where he’d get everything off the top shelf for me because that’s where everything was left untouched. Sometimes I miss him so much my stomach hurts, and I cry until I can’t breathe.”

“You haven’t said his name,” she observes. “In all three sessions we’ve had, I haven’t heard Simon leave your mouth not once. It’s always he this, and he that.”

Sitting in silence, you can’t even come up with an excuse for that. It wasn't like you were doing it on purpose. Sometimes it just happened like that, being at a loss for words. You couldn't even remember the last time you talked about him... and the thought made your heart drop to your stomach.

“Look, therapy can't help if you don't work with me here,” her change of tone catches your attention. It's softer, somehow, like she's trying to level with you. "There's a lot of people who care about you and they're just concerned with how the nightmares have affected you over the last few weeks." Wait a minute...

"How did you know how long I've been having them?" There was only one person you’d told about the nightmares since they started again, and you still hadn't even been honest with Dr. Fernández about it. “I swear to God, if MacTavish–”

Dr. Fernández lets out a dry chuckle and shakes her head. “Despite what you may think, Lieutenant MacTavish has nothing to do with why you’re here, and he’s not the one who told me of your violent nightmares.”

Huh?

“It was Captain Price.”

a/n: YES johnny's a lieutenant now. don’t ask why, or how. time went by, so he climbed the rank lol. also thanks for reading, reblogs are appreciated :))

NEXT PART

taglist:

@angelic-dreams13

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@ghostlythots

@titaniasfairy

#simon ghost riley #simonghostriley #simon riley fanfic #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley imagines #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley angst #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

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Deep End - Six

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 4.6K

A/n: Okie dokie! I’ve got an epilogue planned but I like this. The epilogue will explain shit better but I've known that this would be the end since pretty much the beginning LMAO

Deep End Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

When Steve hears you stop struggling, stop fighting and stop crying, he’s nervous.

It’s been a while since he locked you up there, and he really should check on you soon, if only to make sure the baby’s okay after that stunt you pulled.

He pushes the door to the bedroom open, eyeing your figure carefully.

You look like you’re asleep. If he wasn't so attuned to your body, your heart and your breathing, he wouldn’t have noticed something’s wrong.

Your heart is beating rapidly, far faster than normal. And it’s weaker than usual.

Your breathing is shallow and strained, and your face is lacking its usual healthy glow.

He rushes to your side, tearing the rope from your wrists and touching your face carefully.

Your skin is hot to the touch, and he feels fear settle in his gut.

He doesn’t know what to do, how to help. He’s never really had to help you like this, the doctor’s always been nearby.

He grabs his phone, calling the doctor and pacing nervously.

“Sh-she’s burning up and her breathing is shallow.”

Steve's stomach drops as he listens to the doctor’s instructions, answers his questions and comes to the realization of why you’re like this.

He rolls you onto your left side, tears welling up in his eyes at how unresponsive you are.

The doctor hangs up after telling the super soldier that he’ll be there soon.

His heart is in his throat as he tries to undo the damage of his punishment, putting the evidence back in the box and kicking the rope under the bed.

You’re still unresponsive, heart weak, but your breath sounds a little less strained.

Monster. That’s what you called him. What Natasha called him and what Bucky’s asset called him.

Maybe you’re right.

But he wants you. He needs you. Giving you up would be giving up a piece of his soul and he’s not ready to do that yet.

~*~

The doctor informs him that both you and the baby are okay, but being on your back for so long was compressing a major vein supplying your baby with oxygenated blood. If he’d gotten there any later it might’ve been too late.

With strict instructions to keep you on your left side and make sure you stay hydrated, the doctor takes his leave.

He stays by your side, holding your hand tightly in both of his as he really comes to terms with the fact that it was entirely his fault. He almost killed you and your baby to prove a stupid point. To discourage you from doing the very same thing.

His heart is heavy in his chest as he listens to your heartbeat get stronger, to the baby’s heartbeat continue fluttering like a hummingbird’s.

Those two sounds bring him peace, if only temporarily.

Shattering his peace is the sound of the front door opening, followed by tiny little footsteps clomping up the stairs.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Sarah.

Steve shoves himself to his feet and quickly leaves the room just as his daughter tries to enter.

“Sarah, mommy’s sleeping.” She frowns up at him and shakes her little blonde head.

“I need to talk to mommy!”

She walks around his legs only for him to scoop her up in his arms.

“She’s sleeping right now, honey.”

Sarah shakes her head angrily, beating her tiny fists against his shoulders.

“Let me go! I want mommy! Mommy!! Put me down!” She starts shrieking. Full-on screaming bloody murder right in his ear, and he loses his grip on the wriggling child.

She slides out of his arms and runs into the bedroom, climbing onto the bed and shaking your shoulder.

“Mommy?” She’s got little tears on her face, and they don’t cease when you don’t wake up.

“Why won’t mommy wake up?!” She looks up at Steve with terror written on her face and it shatters his heart in his chest.

“Sarah, mommy’s sick, okay? I had the doctor come over and he said that she needs to rest and when she wakes up we’re gonna need to make sure she’s got plenty of water, okay?”

Sarah’s big blue eyes are filled with tears and she shakes her head.

“I want mommy!”

She clings to your torso, crying against your shoulder in fear.

“Sarah, honey, mommy’s gonna be okay. You just gotta give her some space, okay? How about I set up a movie for you?” Sarah sniffles and slowly pulls away from you, looking at her father and shaking her head again.

“I want mommy! I hate you!”

Steve then realizes just how crucial you are. How important you are, not only to him but to his daughter as well.

Losing you would hurt so many people.

“Honey, you gotta give mommy and I some space, okay?”

He picks up the five-year-old, despite her quite literally kicking and screaming, and sets her down outside the bedroom.

He shuts the door quickly and locks it even faster.

Sarah stands outside, wailing her head off and pounding on the door with her tiny little fists.

She cries for you, over and over again, and it breaks Steve’s heart.

He’s brought back to what you said about him. About how this isn’t love.

He sits down at your side again, trying desperately to drown out the sound of his daughter crying outside as his thoughts overwhelm him.

He hasn’t been the nicest to you, that he’ll openly admit, and he makes mistakes probably more often than he doesn’t. But he loves you. He needs you.

Tears well up in his eyes and he lets out a shuddering breath.

He’ll make this right. He has to. Sarah deserves a mother, so does your unborn baby. And -though he may not deserve you- he needs you. The monster will be hard to fight, but losing you will be harder.

The damage he’s done might be irreversible, but he’s gonna do what he can to make things right, to give you a better life.

You don’t wake up for a few hours, but when you do you’re confused.

Your back aches and you feel a little dizzy as you remember what happened, how you got here.

Steve watches as you regain consciousness, confusion pulling your brows together before you slowly open your eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly.

You look up at him then drop your gaze to your belly, bringing your free hand down to rub it gently.

“Am I... are we okay?” He nods gently, tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I was... I don’t know, trying to teach you a lesson. And all that did was hurt you. Hurt the baby. I wanted to show you that trying to hurt yourself and hurt the baby wouldn’t fly, but I ended up doing far more damage.”

You swallow hard and struggle to push yourself into a seated position, wincing at the throb in your head.

“The doctor said that you shouldn’t move too much, and try to stay on your left side when you sleep. I-I didn't know that sleeping on your back was bad.”

You take a deep breath and look up at him, waiting for the anger to take hold in his eyes but it never does.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. For scaring you and not trusting you. I... I lost you for so many years and now I have you back and... I don’t wanna lose you again. But everything I do to try and keep you close, make you mine... all it does is push you further away and I’m sorry.”

His apology takes you by surprise, and you eye him skeptically.

How are you supposed to know if he’s telling the truth?

He drags one of his hands down his face and for a moment you can truly see just how old Steve Rogers is.

The exhaustion of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders finally shows in the lines near his eyes, the bags beneath them. But what really displays his age is his eyes. They’re so full of trauma and pain and weariness.

For the first time since waking up from the ice, Steve Rogers looks his age.

“I-I’m sorry, too,” you whisper, surprising him.

“I didn’t... I wasn’t thinking. I just... I wanted to punish you for what happened to Natasha. What you did. I wanted you to hurt but I just ended up hurting myself in the process.” You look down at your hands, trying to figure out how you want to phrase what you have to say.

“People argue, Steve. But what you do... it’s beyond that. We’re not... there are so many things wrong with what’s happening between us, what’s happened already, but I can’t leave. Sarah’s too attached and all I want for my little girl is to have a happy life. To have the happiness that was torn from me.”

Guilt settles on his chest, but he lets you continue speaking.

“I want my daughter to have a good life. I don’t want her to be afraid of-of people. The way I am. She loves you, and I know... I think you love her. You haven’t hurt her yet, and I hope it stays that way because at the rate we’re going, I'm not sure how much longer I’ll be able to do this.”

The pure fatigue on your face is more than enough explanation, but the idea of losing you is too much for him to bear.

“No, don’t say that. I’m gonna get better, okay? We-we were happy once. And we can do it again. I’ll be gentle and patient. I just... I need you, (Y/n). I need you a lot and the fact that you have such a tight hold over my every thought makes me angry. But I’m not gonna take it out on you anymore, okay?”

You let out a deep breath and eye him carefully.

“You’ve said that before.”

He thinks back to the time you spent in that cabin in the woods, where you turned his friends against him.

He has said that before, and look at where he is now.

“This time it’ll be different.”

You don’t have the energy to fight him. So if he’s gonna try, fine.

“Where’s Sarah?” You ask, hoping she’s still safely out with Morgan.

Steve’s face falls again and he stands up and opens the door to your bedroom.

Sarah sits crumpled in a ball, her cheeks covered in tears.

“Mommy!” She all but screams the word, launching to her feet.

Steve tries to take her hand but she yanks it away from him, shooting him a glare then running to the bed and climbing up beside you.

Your heart breaks when you see how sad she looks, and you hug her to your chest.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay.” She sniffles and climbs onto your lap, climbing to you like her life depends on it.

You wonder what happened while you were unconscious, what Steve did to upset her so much, and your mind immediately goes to the worst.

You look at the man, your thoughts written plainly across your face, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No. I just told her she couldn’t come in. Not ‘till you woke up. She uh... she stayed right outside the door.”

You soothe your daughter, rocking her as much as you can manage with the pain rolling down your spine.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You hold her close to you, trying to calm her down while Steve looks on helplessly.

Although his daughter loves him, loves being here with him, nothing can compare to the bond that the two of you have.

The monster in him hates it. Hates that he’s not as close to his own daughter, blames you for it. But he pushes that part of himself down.

He made a promise. And this time he’s not gonna break it.

"Are you sure you’re okay with it?” He asks for the thousandth time.

You only shrug, fixing your hair in the mirror as the doorbell rings.

“It’s a little too late now, Steve. Besides, I don’t really care. Sarah’s gonna have fun and that’s all that matters.”

Your daughter took a few days to warm up to Steve again, but now that she has he’s not gonna risk anything changing that.

He takes one last look at you, at how pretty you look in your blue sundress, then leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“I love you, (Y/n). I can send them away.”

You take a deep breath and shake your head.

“Sarah’s excited. Besides, I wanna know what we’re having.”

You plaster on a forced smile and it breaks his heart, but he turns and heads downstairs to greet the guests.

Ever since you got hurt, he’s been nicer. Far gentler than he's ever been with you, and you’re not complaining.

Steve has the potential to be a good person, that much is obvious, but he chooses not to.

He hasn’t hurt you again, or even yelled at you. No, he’s been patient and understanding and it’s such a sharp contrast from who he was before.

You can hear him greeting the guests warmly, chatting on and on about this and that and whatever else.

Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you leave the faux safety of the bedroom and head down the stairs, smiling at your guests.

People that you’ve never seen before are in your house. Well, that’s not true. You’ve seen them on TV.

The Avengers are in your living room and kitchen, talking softly amongst themselves.

In the presence of these superheroes, you feel small. Weak. And you can’t fight the urge to find Steve as anxiety crawls up your spine.

He’s in the kitchen, talking animatedly with Tony Stark and Sam Wilson. Iron Man and Falcon.

He looks so at ease, his face split open with a laidback grin.

Sam’s eyes find yours and he says something to Steve, making the blond turn to you with a soft smile.

He waves you over and you obey, one hand resting delicately on your bump.

“Sam, Tony, this is my (Y/n). (Y/n), Sam and Tony.” You nod politely at them, sliding your clammy hand into Steve's nervously.

You haven’t been around this many people in a very long time.

“It’s nice to finally meet the woman who’s got Captain America so hooked! All he does is talk about you,” Sam says, a grin on his face.

You smile at him, looking up at Steve.

He nods encouragingly, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles to try and ease your anxiety.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I, uh, I’ve heard a lot about you. About both of you.” Tony smiles looking down as someone tugs on his pant leg.

“Can I have a sleepover at Sarah’s house?!” Morgan asks excitedly, her little face full of glee.

“You’re gonna need to go ask your mother. You know she makes all the decisions.”

Tony’s gaze lifts to yours when his daughter runs to find her mom.

“Is it alright if she sleeps over tonight?”

Steve nods then looks at you.

“You alright with that?”

You’re not sure if it’s a real choice or a test, but you don’t want to find out.

“Of course. She’s always welcome here.”

Tony nods with a smile, then resumes whatever conversation they were having before you showed up.

You tune out what they’re saying, carefully rubbing over your stomach and poking at your baby whenever they decide to kick you.

“(Y/n)? Did you wanna help me set the food up outside?” Pepper’s voice breaks you from your trance, her hand coming to rest softly on your shoulder.

You look up at Steve, silently asking for permission, but he just leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips and lets go of your hand.

You follow Pepper, setting up the table in the backyard silently for a while before she clears her throat.

“How are you feeling, (Y/n)? Sarah told us you were sick.”

You swallow hard and give her a tight smile.

“I’m feeling better. Tired all the time but this little devil is to blame for that.” You poke your belly only to be met with another kick.

Pepper nods, smiling at you.

“Are you excited?”

That question throws you for a loop.

Are you? Are you excited to have another baby?

You’re excited for Sarah to have a sibling. Excited to get to hold your baby and love your baby. But the reason why you’re having the baby in the first place? The father of your baby? No.

“Yeah, I am. A little nervous, too.”

She sits down by your garden, patting the seat next to her.

“You look tired, (Y/n). More tired than a mother should be. You’re wearing yourself thin.” You keep your lips sealed, not wanting to say anything that might make Steve mad.

She sighs and sets a gentle hand on your knee.

“I don’t know what your... relationship is with Steve, but I know you’re unhappy. He’s a good guy, deep down. But you need to take care of yourself, okay? Don’t work yourself to the breaking point because it’ll be even harder to build yourself back up. Especially with a brand new baby.”

You let out a shuddering breath and nod.

“It’s just hard. I’m trying but... it’s hard.”

As you talk softly with Pepper, Steve observes the two of you.

You look so sad, so defeated. He hates that he made you look like that.

“She’s unhappy, Steve.”

He turns to the voice, eyebrows raising.

“Wanda. I didn’t know if you’d make it.” He pulls her into a hug. “I heard about what happened in Westview... Wanda, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

She sighs, pulling away with a sad smile.

“No. But I will be.” Her eyes travel back over to you for a moment, feeling the pain and the sorrow in your soul.

“Do you think she’ll ever be happy here? With me?” Wanda sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes, feeling your thoughts, your energy.

“It’s hard to tell. Right now she’s so... numb. Nothing but sadness and... hopelessness. Her spirit is crushed, Steve.” She reopens her eyes and turns to the blond.

“You can’t keep her here like this. It’s only a matter of time before she gets fed up and tries to do something drastic. Again.”

Steve knows. He fucking knows that. But he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do to lift your spirits.

He's given you more freedom, let you make more decisions for yourself. He’s been gentler with you, hasn't forced himself on you.

Not forcing himself on you isn’t something to gloat about, but given the history between the two of you, it’s something fairly major.

He just wants to keep you in his life. He needs to keep you in his life.

He turns to the young woman beside him, a thought bubbling into his mind.

“Could you... do something to make her happy? Make her enjoy her life here? Make her love me again?”

Wanda’s mouth curves down as she looks at you, watches you play with your daughter and Morgan.

“Steve, it’s not right.”

The blond lets out a pained breath, shaking his head desperately.

“I just want happiness, Wanda. Don’t I deserve it? Haven’t I suffered enough to deserve a happy ending?”

Wanda’s eyes glow red with sorrow as she’s reminded of her own happy ending that she had to give up.

She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze, dropping her gaze for a moment before looking over at his desperate blue eyes.

“We don’t always get what we deserve. It’s hard and it hurts, but we can't control everything. And at some point, we need to let go. No matter how hard it is or how much it hurts. We can’t hurt other people because of what we think we deserve.”

They both look back over to you, your own eyes already on the pair, but dropping as soon as you see them turn to you.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do that.”

Tears stab at his eyes and he huffs out a breath through his nose, turning on his heel and walking away from the party, from his friends.

His abrupt departure catches the attention of a few people, yourself included. Before you can get up and see what’s going on, Bucky’s on his feet and heading into the house.

The woman Steve was talking to makes her way over to you, smiling gently.

“Hi (Y/n). I’m Wanda.” You smile at her, eyes darting towards where Steve disappeared from then back to her.

Bucky re-emerges only a few moments later, shaking his head at Natasha when she gives him a quizzical look.

You turn to Wanda with a strained smile.

“Could you just watch Sarah for a minute? And make sure she has something to eat? The foods ready.” She nods, watching with sad eyes as you walk back into the house to see what’s wrong with Steve.

“Steve?” You call softly, looking around for him only to find him sitting on the couch in the living room, his face in his hands.

“Why can’t I have what I want?” His question catches you off guard and you move to stand in front of him.

He shakes his head sadly, pulling his hands off of his face to grab yours, holding them tightly.

His lips brush over your knuckles gently, before he presses the back of your hands against his forehead, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“This isn’t right.”

Your heart races in your chest, stomach tying in knots as you try to figure out what he’s talking about.

“What are you talking about? Is everything okay? Did... did I do something wrong?” Maybe you shouldn’t have talked to Pepper earlier. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and smiled.

“I can’t keep you here.”

One sentence. Five words. Sixteen letters.

That’s all it takes to have your heart stuttering.

“What... what do you mean you can’t keep me here?” You try your hardest not to let your hopes get too high. Maybe he’s going to kill you. Maybe that’s what it is. It’s certainly something more up his alley than... the alternative.

He slowly raises his head, teary red eyes staring up into yours.

“You know what I mean.”

You shake your head, needing to hear him say it himself.

“What are you saying, Steve?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and closes his eyes, the words hurting him but he needs to say them.

“You're free to go. You and Sarah.”

The breath gets knocked from your lungs, eyes wide as tears start to blossom. This is a trap. A test. It has to be. There’s no way...

“You’re letting us go?” You ask softly.

He sighs again, nodding as tears find their way down his cheeks.

“Yeah... I guess I am.”

You’re silent, staring at him and waiting for him to tell you it’s a joke, to punish you. But he doesn’t. No, instead he lets go of one of your hands and stands up, his chest almost brushing yours.

“You said I don’t love you... but I do. I love you. Or maybe I love the idea of you, I don’t know. But either way... I hate how sad you are. How sad and afraid I make you. You're free to go wherever you want.”

You’re practically hyperventilating.

After all this time, you never truly thought he’d ever let you go. That he’d have even a shred of decency left inside him.

He cups your hands together and carefully places something inside them, then turns and walks to the front door, grabbing his keys and leaving the house.

You stand silently, staring at the object in your hands until standing becomes too hard and you think you may throw up.

Then you sit down, silent tears trekking down your cheeks.

“(Y/n)?” You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on the couch, staring at your hands, but Natasha’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“(Y/n), are you okay? Where’s Steve?”

You stare up at her then look back down at the tiny, life-changing object in your hands.

“He let us go,” you whisper, your glossy eyes raising to hers again.

She looks half as shocked as you feel.

“What?”

You sniffle then wipe the tears off of your cheeks.

“He’s letting us go,” you repeat, pushing yourself to your feet and holding your bump.

“Really?” You nod, eyes finding the backyard through the kitchen window.

Sarah and Morgan are playing outside with Sam and Wanda.

“What are you gonna do?”

Your heart is so full of confusion, full of pain and hurt.

“I’m gonna go cut the cake, then have a talk with Sarah.” She nods, a small smile on her face.

She heads back outside and you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down before you go out and face Steve’s friends.

You toy with the dainty thing he dropped in your hands before nodding to yourself.

This is what’s right. It’s the right choice for both of you.

You entertain his guests for a few more hours, not wanting to clue them into anything in case they disagree with your decision, with Steve’s.

Only after the presents are given and the cake is almost completely devoured do they finally start to leave.

Wanda helps you tidy up the backyard, writing her phone number down with a soft smile and a whispered ‘if you ever need a friend’.

Everyone bids you goodbye until only Bucky and Nat are left, the metal-armed soldier staring intently at your left hand before a smile spreads across his face.

He surprises you, pulling you into a gentle hug and nodding his head.

“Congratulations, (Y/n).” You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but for some reason, you don’t think it has anything to do with the baby shower.

They leave too, and then you’re virtually alone, Sarah and Morgan asleep upstairs.

After cleaning up every last inch of the house, you head upstairs to go to sleep.

Steve isn’t home until after midnight, long after he lets his tears run dry and his heart stop shattering. It just aches now. Hurts.

He let you go. He really did it.

Deep down he knew this would be the outcome. Either this or your death, but he never wanted to accept it. Refused to admit it to himself.

But seeing Wanda... after all that she’s been through... and she’s still standing strong.

He takes his shoes off and drops his keys on the kitchen counter, freezing in his tracks when he sees the covered plate of cake with his name written on it.

The batter is blue.

A boy.

He’s gonna have a son.

A son that he’ll never get to meet. He’s given you freedom, and he doubts you’ll let him be a part of your child’s life after all that he’s put you through.

He slowly makes his way upstairs, his heart hurting when he sees no sign of your things in the pristine house.

When he pushes open the bedroom door he freezes in his tracks.

There you are, sleeping in his bed. No bags are packed, nothing is out of place, and the dainty diamond ring sits on your finger.

You’ve made your choice, he realizes, his heart jumping for joy in his chest.

He sheds his clothes then climbs into bed with you, wrapping you up in his arms and sighing heavily.

Maybe Wanda was wrong.

Maybe he’ll get his happy ending after all.

#dark!steve #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x you #steve x reader dark fic #stucky x reader dark fic #Steve rogers x reader dark fic #Steve Rogers x reader #dark!Steve Rogers x reader #Steve X reader dark fic #dark fic #dark au #Steve X reader dark au

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quillsareswords · 3 years

Text

1:20

Damian Wayne x reader

SUMMARY: You're lucky you've memorized Robin's schedule: it might me the only saving grace you've got left.

WARNINGS: blood, near-death

Master List in bio

It's 1:20 on a Tuesday morning in early June.

Gotham never really gets hot, but the humidity suffocates anything that might think that's a relief. You didn't check the weather this evening. You probably should have.

It's 1:20 on a Tuesday morning. He's gonna be here. You've had mixed feelings about knowing his schedule this well in the past, but now it's the deciding factor of your fate.

It's 1:20. That means you've been bleeding like a stuck pig for ten straight minutes, even if it feels like it's been hours. Or seconds. You don't really know anymore. You're getting dizzy.

So you've leaned against the wall. Some little roof access point that stands tall above the gravel covering the rooftop. The brick digs into your shoulder, even through your jacket.

You're starting to think you've gotten it wrong. Or maybe he just didn't show today. Maybe you're out of luck this time.

It was dumb. Stupid to think that you could stop this. Stupid to think you would end any way other than alone.

It was on purpose, after all. Isolation, that is. You pushed and shoved everyone away with a friendly smile and kept them at arm's length, lest they wiggle their claws beneath your mask and expose you for every ugly thing you are.

You're a mole. An informant. Someone who plays every side all at once and somehow manages to stay neutral the whole time. You've been passing tips to the Bats for months now, means be damned. Trust was meager between you, but what little there is is mutual.

You'd hoped it'd be your saving grace. Hoped the side playing would leave you with at least one friend, even though it was the entire reason you're in this position in the first place. You had hoped your downfall would save you.

He appears before you two minutes late. 1:22 in the morning and he's late. He doesn't seem to have noticed you, a few feet away, surveying the street below him like it's his job (and it is), with his back to you.

"You're late, Birdy." Your voice comes quieter and rougher than it should, and the force it takes nearly sends you to the ground.

He spins around at the sound, hand already curled around the hilt of his sword by the time he faces you. He says your name lowly, like a warning, like always. His posture relaxes nonetheless. "You come with useful advice, I expect. The skirmish by the docks sounded quick, but Batman thinks–"

"I didn't know where else to go," you say suddenly, because you already know you aren't going to be conscious long enough for this conversation.

The effort gets you this time. Your knees, shaky as they've been, finally give out. You understand, and you forgive them; they carried you all the way here, after all. Your body turns on the way down, back of your jacket scraping terribly against the brick as your heels slide through the gravel. The noise you make is somewhere between a groan and a cry.

It rips the breath out of his lungs. Your name is in his mouth again as he drops to his knees beside you, gloved hands already pawing at the hand you have clamped around the knife still sheathed into your side.

"What happened?" he demands, and he's reaching for his pager with the other hand. "Who did this?"

You're too focused on the way your first name sounds in his voice. There's something nice about the way he spaces the syllables.

He says it again, all panic and worry, like he hasn't the time to mask it anymore.

You wonder for a moment if it has anything to do with his lingering stares and gruff get home safe's.

But then he's shaking your shoulder and you're wincing because it's bruised beneath the jacket.

"Stay awake, hey, stay with me. Batman is on his way. We'll fix this." There's a pause where he's sucking in a deep breath and you're trying to focus on his voice. "You're going to be fine."

You think it's a little funny. You managed to get all the way here, up a goddamn fire escape, but the moment you think he's got you, you lose all ability to keep yourself upright. You just want to sleep. You want to lay down and take a nice, long nap.

You hate to admit that it just might be because you trust him more than anyone else you know. You've only known him for a few months, but you're sure that you're safest with him. You're safe with him.

It shouldn't be much of a comfort, with Death staring you down like a lion on it's last meal. You won't need protecting if your decline doesn't level out soon. It's surprising what such little comfort feels like when you're staring Death down like a gazelle with an attitude problem.

You don't remember being moved. Or how you ended up in a medical bed with stiff, scratchy sheets and a nearly flat pillow. You do remember hearing Damian's voice, fading in and our with your consciousness. The words are all garbled and quiet, but you know the recall the sound.

Alfred is the first person you see. He's unfamiliar, but he introduces himself and offers you a warm smile and a glass of water. He brings you a bowl of soup and hands you a bottle of painkillers and another of antibiotics.

You fall asleep again, listening to some little body of water just outside the white room you're settled in.

When you wake up, it's to the sound of an argument. Batman and Robin. It's hushed, angry and patient whispers back and forth, but it's an argument all the same. You've heard them bicker enough over the last few months to recognize it.

You can't quite make it out. You hear your name a few times, something about time, something about healing, something about help. Batman finishes it.

Robin swings the squeaky door open a few moments later.

He stops halfway into the room when he sees you're awake.

You wiggle your way up the mattress to lean against the pillows behind you. "Birdy."

He sighs. "You nearly bleed out in my arms and that's how you greet me?"

He doesn't sound quite right. A little deflated, maybe. Relieved? As if he'd been holding his breath before he entered the room, and just remembered how to breathe when he caught your eye.

Course, you can't be sure he caught it at all, with those white lenses.

You cock a shoulder. "I'm sure you've seen worse. I'm sure I'll have worse."

His posture shifts as he crosses the room. He shakes his head. "That's not funny."

"It's kind of funny," you try, throwing the best carefree smile you can manage when everything beneath your skin is so sore. "I'm the one who was bleeding, that means I'm allowed to make all the jokes I want."

"That's an unhealthy coping mechanism."

"So is dressing up in red and yellow and calling yourself a bird."

His shoulders drop again. You think you might see a smile, but he turns his head away too quickly. "You should be more careful. I can't always be there to drag you out of every fire, you know."

You cross your arms, raising both knees to take some pressure off of your abdomen. He takes it as an invitation and makes himself comfortable in the chair beside the bed. He finds a comfortable position with a little too much familiarity. "I don't expect you to. I wouldn't have even been there if I wasn't getting information for you."

"For Batman–"

"Potato, pa-tot-oh."

He goes rigid again. "I never would have asked you to put yourself in danger like that."

It's defensive. Appalled, almost. Offended.

You don't know how to reply. That doesn't seem to matter though, because he's not done.

"And even if I had, I would have gone with you. I would have made sure you had backup, I would have– this never would have happened."

There's a certain distain in his tone that catches you off guard. A resentment, toward you or his partner you aren't totally sure.

He runs gloved fingers through slick black hair. Heaves a breath. Pushes himself to his feet. Falsely composed. "You may stay as long as you need. Alfred will take care of you."

"Where are you going?" It slips out before you can stop it. And perhaps you could play if off as a standard question—you are in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people, aside from him—but it's much too quick. It sounds a little too much like don't leave me.

And you know he hears it too, because he turns back around so quickly you wonder if he even considered it. "Patrol. It's Wednesday night." And yet he makes to move to leave.

You nod. "Right. Yeah. You're, uh, what? You're over by the city museum tonight, aren't you?" You want to smack yourself. What are you doing, making small talk? He's got places to be, people to save.

"Yes." The top seal of his mask flexes when he raises an eyebrow.

You nod again. An awkward smile on your lips. "I, uh, I didn't know how to feel about knowing where you'd be most of the week, but I guess I'm glad I do. Saved my skin last night, didn't it?"

He drawls in a deep breath. "Suppose it did."

There's a long pause. You aren't sure if you're breathing, but you're sure he isn't. He looks tense, like he's torn between saying something and leaving, body angled not quite toward you.

"You can always come to me," he says suddenly. He must read something on your face, because he tumbles straight into the next sentence. "Last night, you said you didn't know who to go to. I'm telling you now, you can always come to me. I'll fix it, whatever it is."

His voice is tight. A little unsure, but not in the statement. Like a hiker on a rocky trail; unsure of his footing, but certain in his destination.

There's something else in his words. Something scrawled between the lines in thin, fragile letters. Something deeper than wounds and needing backup.

I'll fix it, whatever it is.

Your heart rate picks up, and the heart monitor reveals your secrets on the screen beside you. What it can't reveal is the way the poor organ soars, throwing itself to the clouds with reckless abandon, completely uncaring of the hard trip back down.

You still don't know how to reply. You'd like to say something witty. A little sarcastic, maybe a smidge mean. He's giving you a glimpse at his heart, beating bloody in his hands, and there's a large part of you that wants to poke it. Nothing too wounding, just enough that he never makes the mistake again.

But you can't help it. There's a much larger part of you that wails, who wants to snatch it from him to shield and cradle, because he obviously can't be trusted with it. Not if he's baring it to you.

The deciding party is the reminder of last night. Dragging yourself up a rusted fire escape, praying to anyone who might listen that he'd be there. That he'd help you. You remember thinking he wouldn't. You remember the thought hanging above you like gravediggers as you settled into a coffin: you pushed everyone away, you don't leave room for those who want to help you.

"Thank you," you attempt, and it comes barely above a whisper. You allow it to be tender. You let it embody the raw little piece of you that utters it; the piece that wants so desperately to let him in. The piece that knew he'd save you. The tender little sliver of soul who still believed you deserved to be trusted and supported. The one who still hopes for meaningful connections, even among your collection of throw-away contacts.

You can see the way he relaxes. The way he melts inside his skin, like he'd been expecting you to poke when you could have. Like it lifts a weight off of him, knowing that you'll trust him enough to come to him in the future.

"I'll be back in a few hours. You should sleep."

You roll your eyes. "Sleep in some weird ass white room I've never been in, surrounded by a bunch if people I barely know. Yeah, I'm sure I'll sleep like a baby."

He recognizes that you aren't entirely serious, but he also recognizes the orange pill bottles on the table beside you. "If Alfred has you on those, I trust you will—no matter where you are."

You chuckle, he offers you the tiniest smile, and then he's gone. Vanished into the rest of whatever strange building he whisked you into.

You should be worried about it. Not knowing where you are, exactly who you're with, who has access to you. But you aren't. And it might be the medication making you compliant, and you'll look back on this in a week and be horrified—or it could be that you've broken all your own rules and thrust all if your trust into the hands of a boy you've never seen without a mask.

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader

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helloalycia · 3 years

Text

girl next door [three] // wanda maximoff

summary: the time has come where you realise your boyfriend just isn’t worth it, and your neighbour may or may not be an Avenger

warning/s: none i don’t think??

author’s note: part 3 is here! I kinda got carried away and wrote two more parts so my bad, but i hope you like it!

I couldn't be bothered with today. I just wasn't in the mood to go to work, so of course, I procrastinated as much as I could in the morning until it was finally time for me to get out of bed without being late.

Teddy had fallen asleep here last night after we watched a film, but he left earlier for work, so it was just me. I knew I had to break it off with him, it was time. But I didn't know how to tell him without hurting him. So, I was cowardly in that sense, which was only worse because I was leading him on. I'll find a way to say something soon, I promised myself as I took my clothes off and wrapped a towel around myself.

When I headed to the bathroom, I immediately slipped on the wet floor that only one person could have left behind. But, unlike the many times I had done so, I wasn't able to catch myself and instead fell on my leg, hearing a deadly crack noise, forcing a scream from my lips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," I got out through gritted teeth, tears slipping from my eyes. The pain was unbearable and as I looked to my leg, I knew something was wrong because it instantly began to swell up and change colour.

Taking deep breaths to get through the pain, I tried not to imagine the several ways I was going to skin Teddy alive. He was so ignorant! How many times did I have to explain to him how dangerous it was to leave the floor wet?!

"It's okay, Y/N, you're okay," I told myself, before stretching and grabbing my phone from the side.

A striking pain shot up my leg and I suddenly felt nauseous, unable to deal with it. Swallowing hard, I called Teddy to give him a piece of my mind but also ask for his help since I couldn't move. Unfortunately for me, it went to fucking voicemail making me scream with frustration. I clenched my jaw as I tried to stand up myself, but more tears rolled down my cheeks as I accepted I was stuck.

The next person who came to mind was Wanda. If I was lucky and she wasn't at work, she'd be able to help me up and get me to a hospital.

I called her next and thankfully, unlike the arsehole that was my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, she answered.

"Hey, Y/N!"

I breathed out as calmly as I could. "Hi, Wanda. I, er, I need your help."

"Everything okay?" she asked with concern.

I nodded, though I felt really sick as I tried to avoid looking at my leg. "Yeah, well– no. This is really embarrassing, but I slipped on the bathroom floor and I think my leg is broken. Please can you come 'round and help me up?"

"Shit, Y/N, of course!" she exclaimed.

"Thanks," I got out breathily. "Spare key is taped under the plant pot outside my door."

"Just hold on," she insisted, before hanging up.

I dropped my phone to the side and glanced down at myself, definitely embarrassed that I was sat here in my underwear and bra, but also glad that I wasn't completely naked.

As promised, Wanda came as soon as possible and I heard her approaching the bathroom before she squeaked and covered her eyes.

"S-sorry!" she said, flustered. "I didn't mean to look. I just–"

"Wanda, you need to see if you're to help me up," I said as nicely as I could without snapping from the pent up anger reserved for Teddy.

She removed her hand, though her eyes wouldn't meet mine. "Right, yeah, duh. Okay, er..."

Successfully, she managed to lift me up and let me use her for support as we limped to my bed and I took a seat.

"Can you pass me my–"

"Clothes, right," she caught on, still not meeting my eyes, before moving around the room to grab a shirt and shorts.

I put my shirt on with ease, but she had to help me with my shorts as I tried my very hardest not to cry from the pain. My leg, or rather my knee, was turning a yellow-purple colour pretty quickly, making me flinch.

"How did this happen?" she asked with worry, gaze falling to my leg.

I clenched my jaw. "My stupid fucking boyfriend. I've told him so many fucking times to mop the damn floor! And he always says okay, but he never does! Oh, boy, when I get my hands on him, he's gonna wish he'd never been born!"

"Y/N–"

"And can you believe he has the audacity to have his damn phone switched off?! I could be dying and he wouldn't even know! That selfish, ignorant son of a–"

"Y/N!" she called, snapping me out of my rant. "Hospital."

"Right, hospital," I agreed. "No ambulances because they're way too expensive. Maybe you can get me down to a taxi and I'll take it from there?"

She raised her eyebrows with disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

I mirrored her expression. "Er, no? Ambulances are like $700, and even with my insurance that's like $400. Taxis are, what, twenty bucks?"

She wasn't convinced as she crossed her arms and stared at me with uncertainty. I sighed and tried to stand up, but I pulled a face at the pain. She was quick to help me stand, giving me support on my right side.

"This is gonna take a while," I mumbled, biting back annoyance.

"Don't hate me," she said suddenly.

I looked to her, furrowing my brows. "What are you talking about?"

She avoided my gaze and instead swept me off my feet quite literally, taking me by surprise. I wrapped my arms around her neck on instinct, eyes widening as she held me close, bridal-style.

"Wanda, you can't just carry me like this," I said, though I was surprised at how strong she was.

She ignored me and walked out the bedroom before stopping at the fire escape. I gripped her tightly, wondering what the heck was going on. There was a hint of red in her eyes, startling me, before I noticed the two of us rising into the air. Levitation, to be exact.

"Woah!" I shouted, holding her as tightly as I could. "What the hell?! How–?! What–?!"

As she flew us away from our building, there was a red hue floating all around us, like an energy I'd never seen before. Except it seemed familiar... and that's when I put it together.

"You're that Avenger!" I blurted out. "The witch, the one with all the magical powers! You're– you're– Oh my God."

She frowned, eyes darting to mine apologetically. "I know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

I swallowed hard, fearfully glancing over her shoulder at the clouds interwoven with the tall buildings of New York. Never in a million years did I think I'd be flying amongst them, with an Avenger nonetheless. She'd fought at the battle of New York, I remembered seeing her on the TV. She was dubbed an official Avenger not long after, but then coverage of her went quiet... because she'd moved away. It made so much sense now!

"I knew I recognised you," I said with disbelief, studying her face closely as I now knew who she was.

Her eyes still had a red hue surrounding her irises, matching the energy surrounding us as she flew us to, presumably, the hospital.

"I didn't intend to hide it," she explained guiltily. "I thought you'd figure it out. But then you didn't and it... it just never felt right to bring it up."

I thought back to the random hours she worked, the spontaneity of being called in for her shifts, her whole backstory for crying out loud... how stupid could I be?

"This... this is a conversation we should have," I said, nodding slowly, "but maybe not right now."

"Right, yeah." She nodded in agreement, jaw tensed as she stared ahead. "Just hang on."

–

After getting an x-ray at the hospital, the doctor told me I'd need to go into surgery so they could realign my knee – it wasn't anything concerning, but I wasn't exactly over the moon about it.

I returned to the hospital room to find Wanda had been waiting for me. I'd say I was surprised, but I was more grateful that she stayed. We hadn't had a moment to speak about her whole Avenger situation, and she was oddly quiet about the whole thing, so I decided to ease it into conversation whilst waiting for the doctors to return to prep me for surgery.

"You know, you didn't have to stay," I said to her, watching as she distracted herself with the stuff on the bedside table. "It's only a broken leg."

She stopped whatever she was doing and gave me a knowing look. "It's not only a broken leg. And I just thought you might like the company. Who else is going to make sure you're okay?"

I offered her a small smile. "Thank you. But the surgery is gonna take a while. I'll head home after and catch up with you then."

She seemed against the idea, but said nothing, before resuming whatever she was messing around with. The tissue box, I think.

"So... magic, huh?"

She swallowed visibly. "It's, er, not magic... at least, not exactly."

I hummed in acknowledgement, still adjusting to the fact that she had actual powers. It was amazing and unusual all at once.

"It's okay that you didn't tell me you know," I said gently, making her glance at me. "You apologised earlier. Back when we were–" I breathed out, still in mild disbelief, "–well, flying. You didn't need to. You don't have to be sorry about anything, Wanda."

She frowned. "But I lied to you."

Her Sokovian accent was more noticeable when she was upset, I noted. I wondered if she realised.

"You didn't lie, per say... more like bent the truth," I tried to make her feel better, stifling a laugh. "Either way, it's alright. Well, for me anyway. I don't know if you wanted to tell me or–"

"I did," she cut in with nod, eyes focused on me. "I wanted to."

I hoped she couldn't hear the way my heart rate picked up a little. "Okay, then I don't see a problem. You're still the same Wanda, just with a little something extra, right?"

Her shoulders relaxed and a small smile tugged at her lips. "Right."

I mirrored her expression, holding her gaze for a moment longer than necessary, before tearing away when I heard the doctor enter the room. After prepping me for surgery, I headed off into the operating room and made sure Wanda knew she didn't have to be there when I came back.

They put me under, so I wasn't awake until several hours later when I woke up to horribly bright, fluorescent hospital lighting and the accompanying nasty disinfectant smell filling the room. The first thing I noticed was the giant cast on my leg, followed by the sleeping brunette in the corner of the room that was Wanda. I would have questioned why she was there as my first thought, but I couldn't help but take notice of the lovely room I was in – for starters, it wasn't shared with other patients like I expected.

"Wanda," I called, my voice rough-sounding, but she didn't stir in the slightest.

I chewed on my lip as I found the remote that controlled my bed, using it so I could sit up. I was able to grab the water on my bedside table and take a few sips before calling for her again, sounding a lot better. To my relief, she began to wake up, eyes blinking open and looking around with confusion before realisation crossed her face and she settled on me.

"You're up!" she exclaimed, before a yawn escaped her lips.

"And you're here," I returned, hinting my confusion.

"I told you I was staying," she reminded me, before standing up and approaching my bedside. "Had to make sure you were okay. And obviously to help you home. By taxi, not flying, don't worry."

I smiled at her caring nature, expression softening at how cute she was.

"Also, before you ask," she added, "your hospital bills are taken care of. Hence the room."

I lost my smile, eyebrows raising. "Come again?"

She sat at the edge of my bed, getting comfortable as she looked out the window opposite us. "I didn't want you worrying about it, especially when none of this was your fault, so I called in a favour at the Avenger's compound. Tony owed me."

I almost forgot how to breathe as my eyes widened. "Tony Stark? The Tony Stark? He's paying for my hospital bills?"

She looked to me, a hint of panic in her eyes. "I hope that's okay. I mean, I knew you would say no, but I feel like I should've done something. You've done so much for me and it was only fair."

"I can't believe..." I trailed off, losing track of what I was going to say, still shocked. It made sense with her being an Avenger, but it was still hard to believe.

"You still with me?" she joked, her hand resting on mine.

I cleared my throat, ignoring the warmth from her skin touching mine. "Yeah, sorry. I just– wow. Still digesting is all."

"Don't worry too much about it," she said gently.

I nodded weakly, swallowing hard and avoiding her gaze.

"I should go get the doctor and let her know you're awake," she said, letting go of my hand. "You okay on your own for a minute?"

"Yeah, of course. Thanks."

After a chat with the doctor and an explanation of how everything would play out from here, I was getting ready to leave for home. I got changed out of the annoying hospital gown in the bathroom attached to my hospital room (another perk of Tony Stark paying for my bills – no shared toilet) and was in the middle of adjusting to my crutches in my room when there was a knock on the door.

Wanda and I paused as we looked up, and I was about to say for whoever it was to come in, but the person came in quickly and without waiting. To my bitterness, it was Teddy of all people.

"Oh my god, Y/N, there you are!" he exclaimed upon seeing me. "I got your message, both of them. I was so worried!"

In addition to the message I'd left him when breaking my leg, I also left him another before the surgery to see if he actually cared enough to check in. Clearly not.

I gripped my crutches to get out my frustration. "It took you long enough. I went into surgery five hours ago."

He scratched his head awkwardly. "I was at work."

I rolled my eyes, promising myself I wouldn't snap, but the annoyance of everything happening was building up and I couldn't help but blurt out, "I told you to mop up when you freakin' showered, Teddy!"

"I did!"

"No, you didn't!" I shouted, raising my voice. "If you did, I wouldn't be in this fucking cast!"'

He winced. "Are you, er, sure that it was the water that you slipped on?"

I clenched my jaw, knuckles turning white from how hard I was gripping my crutches. I didn't care that I was temporarily crippled, all I could see was red.

"Am I sure?" I repeated his question, tone laced with anger. "Am I sure?!"

I attempted to lunge forward, but Wanda seemed to know what I was thinking before I did it, holding me back suddenly.

"Y/N, just leave it," she mumbled, eyes meeting mine.

Something about the way she looked at me made my anger temporarily melt away, and I almost forgot why I was mad, until...

"Who are you?" Teddy asked with confusion.

Wanda and I looked to him, figuring he was just being his usual rude self, but he genuinely had no idea who she was as he studied her curiously.

She blinked with disbelief. "Wanda....?"

He waved his hand, motioning for her to say more.

Wanda raised a brow with offence. "Y/N's neighbour...?"

He pursed his lips, eyes squinted with thought.

Wanda almost scoffed. "Really? You got nothing?"

He chewed on his lip, genuinely stumped, and I couldn't help but groan with frustration, earning his attention.

"Of course you don't know who she is!" I glared at him. "You don't listen to a word I say! Not about this, not about mopping the floor–!"

"Y/N, just calm down!" he cut me off, only adding fuel to the fire.

"No," I said sternly, before nodding to the door behind him. "You can leave. You have no need to be here since we're not together anymore."

He raised his eyebrows with shock. "Seriously? You're breaking up with me? For what?"

I breathed out through my nose, genuinely stunned at how I managed to stay with him this long without either losing my mind or killing him. I could swear he wasn't this stupid when I met him.

His eyes fell to Wanda with distaste. "Is it because of her?"

"Did you actually manage to get stupider since this morning?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Because I totally accepted when you said you were bisexual," he continued, "but I didn't think you'd actually leave me for a woman."

I pressed my lips together, looking to my shoes as I tried to talk myself out of not killing him there and then. The fact that he was blaming the breakup on anyone but himself was disappointing but not surprising.

"Can you leave now?" I finally spoke, looking up to him with expressionless eyes.

His smile of disbelief turned into a scoff as he headed for the door. "Whatever. Your roast lamb is shit anyway."

I scrunched my face together with annoyance, unable to stop myself from yelling, "No it isn't!" as he walked out the door.

Unexpectedly, I saw the familiar red wisps of energy by the door before it suddenly slammed shut, smacking Teddy in the butt and propelling him forward with a start. He turned around to look through the glass, expecting to blame someone, but Wanda and I were nowhere near the door, so he glared our way before storming off.

"Sorry," Wanda said, referring to the door, lowering her hand and red eyes returning to normal. "He's just a real dickhead."

I tried not to laugh as I nodded in agreement, already feeling better. "You're not wrong there..." I sighed, losing my smile as I gave her an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry for everything he said. Again."

Wanda rolled her eyes dismissively, shrugging her shoulders. "You should really stop apologising on his behalf. Especially since he's not your boyfriend anymore."

I relaxed my shoulders, leaning against the bed and looking to the floor. "Yeah, you're right... I just can't believe I put up with him this long."

Wanda didn't respond, but I heard her make a weird noise before she fake-coughed terribly, making me look up. Trying ever-so-hard to suppress a smile, she shook her head apologetically when she realised I noticed.

"Sorry, I– it's not funny," she attempted.

I smiled with amusement. "What?"

She licked her lips, before giving into her smile. "I just– I can't believe it either sometimes."

I breathed out with defeat, my smile turning into laughter alongside her. Eventually, she continued to help me with my crutches before I got the hang of it and the two of us began to leave the hospital. On the way out though, a random thought dawned on me and I stopped walking suddenly.

"What is it?" she asked worriedly.

I looked to her with curiosity. "That guy who stopped by your place a while ago. Your friend. Are you telling me that was–"

"Captain America?" she filled in with an amused smile. "Yeah."

"Woah." I was amazed, eyebrows raised as I let that sink in. I spoke to the Captain America and even implied he was a stalker. Woah.

"Come on, idiot," she laughed before leading me out the hospital, finally.

–

Breaking up with Teddy was long overdue, and whereas I thought I would feel bad for doing so, it was quite the opposite. I felt better, freer, unrestrained by the stupidity that was my ex. It was a few days after leaving the hospital when I found myself sitting on the couch with Wanda. She'd been helping me during my recovery, even though I insisted I was fine alone. She, of course, didn't listen though, and I was secretly glad because it meant I could spend more time with her.

"What about that fork? Can you move that?"

Wanda gave me a knowing look from the other end of the couch, amusement knitted in her smile. "Yes, Y/N."

To prove her point, her eyes glowed red and she flicked her hand, raising the fork on the dining table up in the air before setting it down.

I was amazed. "What about that cushion?"

She stifled a laugh before levitating the cushion between us and setting it down.

"And that book?"

"I have other powers, too, y'know," she pointed out, but levitated the book nonetheless.

I grinned. "Yeah, like flying."

She nodded in agreement. "Yeah, like that..."

And this.

"Woah!" I said with a start, eyebrows raised with surprise. "Did you just– what?!"

She laughed, the sound sending a swirl of butterflies in my stomach. Her eyes sparkled as she met my gaze, amused by my amazement.

"You can speak in my mind?" I asked in bewilderment.

"I can read minds, too," she continued.

"Wow." I breathed out, still not used to her having powers. Suddenly a thought came to mind and I glanced at her. "Have you, er, read my mind?"

"Never," she assured me, before adding with a head tilt, "at least not on purpose. Sometimes, if somebody's thoughts are too loud, I can't help but hear it."

I felt my face heating up as I avoided her eyes. "But my thoughts are quiet... right?"

Every potentially-embarrassing thought I'd ever had, including those I'd had of Wanda, came to mind and I suddenly grew nervous to her answer.

"Er, well, I mean..."

I looked to her when I heard her forming an answer, but the look on her face told me she had heard my thoughts at times and I ran a hand down my face with embarrassment.

"I promise it's never anything embarrassing or anything," she tried to make me feel better.

I groaned quietly, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Hey, I promise," she said with reassurance, before I felt her rest a hand on mine and squeeze it gently.

"What was the last thing you heard?" I asked, trying to veil my curiosity with a shrug.

I felt her gaze on me and looked her way to see green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Mostly you cursing at your ex."

Cracking a smile, I nodded. "Okay, maybe that's fine then..."

Her laughter surrounded us again and she let go of my hand before pulling her legs up on the couch to get comfortable and face me. She watched me with an endearing smile, making me unusually nervous.

"So, what other things can you do with your powers?" I asked, partially curious and partially trying to distract from my nerves.

She studied her right hand, red energy wisps at the tip of her fingers. "I can... I can throw energy balls," she remembered, looking to me before smiling, "but I won't demonstrate that since I'm sure you love your curtains."

"That I do," I said in agreement, leaning on the back cushion with my elbow as I faced her better.

"I can also manipulate thoughts, but once again, I'm sure you won't want a demonstration." She chuckled as she saw my change of expression.

"Yeah, no thank you," I said jokingly.

She pressed her lips together, thinking of what else she could do, but her smile faded into a thin line as a dark thought seemed to cross her mind.

"My brother had powers, too," she said quietly. "Super speed."

Since finding out who she was, I tried to piece together Wanda's background without bringing it up to her for fear it would upset her. It made a lot more sense why she'd moved next door now that I knew who she was, but she hadn't once brought up her family again until, well, until now.

"Pietro," I said, hoping I'd got his name correct. "Right?"

She nodded, lowering her hand and looking to me. "Yeah, that's him... he also had powers. It was actually what got him killed." She barely flinched as she spoke. "He saved someone's life in the battle against Ultron."

I sensed her sadness when her gaze softened as she finished speaking, and my heart ached now that I knew the truth.

"You don't have to tell me, Wanda," I said gently, hoping she didn't feel obligated to.

"No, no...," she shook her head, "it's nice to finally be able to tell you the truth. The whole truth. Not some rendition of it."

I nodded, relaxing under her stare. I was glad, too, to know she trusted me with such sensitive information about her life. It made me feel important, kind of like confirmation that I meant as much to her as she did to me.

"Do you think you're gonna go back to the Avengers tower anytime soon?" I asked. "I know you mentioned living here was temporary, so..."

It was selfish of me to think, but I hoped the answer was no. She hadn't said, but I gathered she hadn't been fulfilling her role as an Avenger as much as she should have been, as she was still on a break from there since grieving for her brother. But she seemed better than she did when she first got here, and if that meant she was going to go back there... I hoped it didn't, selfishly enough. I know the world needed another hero, but, I mean, did they?

"Trying to get rid of me already?" she teased, quirking a brow, making me smile with embarrassment. She noticed and added, "I'm kidding, Y/N. But to answer your question, no, not yet. Maybe not ever. I thought I would be here to get away from them whilst I grieved, but I've come to like it here. It's become my new home. I can still help them and not stay there."

I tried to resist the urge to smile like a weirdo. "Oh, cool. Yeah, I get you."

Calm on the outside, but over the moon on the inside.

"Though I may have to reconsider if my neighbour keeps using me like a carnival attraction," she added playfully.

I laughed, putting my hair behind my ear as I shrugged. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. It's just so cool that you have powers!" She laughed quietly, making my smile widen. I continued without thinking, "Plus, your eyes go this pretty red colour whenever you use them and I just think that's pretty neat."

She rolled her eyes playfully, but I was surprised to see her cheeks turn the colour of said powers. God, she was stunning. I was sure I'd always known that, but maybe I'd never acknowledged the thought. Now though... she was adorable when she bit back a smile and her hazel eyes sparkled with distraction.

Suddenly remembering the beautiful girl before me had the ability to read minds, I cleared my throat and tried to debate whether or not that would be classed as a 'loud' thought. I'd liked to think it wasn't, but now I wasn't so sure... what if this was a loud thought? And she could actually hear everything I was saying about her in my head? Oh, no... I was definitely overthinking this. It was nothing to worry about.

"You okay over there? I can practically read your mind."

I looked up and saw she was teasing again, though now that I knew she had powers, those words carried a double meaning.

"Yeah, yeah, sure you can," I played along dismissively. "Nice try, Wanda."

She shrugged, laughter slipping from her lips. "Okay, whatever you say."

Nah, she was definitely playing me... right?

#wanda maximoff imagine #wandavision #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #elizabeth olsen #marvel imagine #marvel #mcu #scarlet witch

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honeypirate · 3 years

Text

“What can you expect from a bug user?”

Shino woke in a panic, those words floating around in his head, echoing from his nightmare.

He quietly moved his sleeping bag off himself and pulled his legs up to rest his head between his knees, trying to calm his breathing and heart rate as his sweaty body cools off.

He runs his hands through his hair and sighs. It’s been so many years since that day yet he still has reoccurring nightmares about being weak.

You move from your bedroll and quietly make your way to him, he sensed you from when your feet touched the ground and didn’t flinch when you whispered his name, trying not to wake Tenten from the other side of the still hot coals from the fire, Kiba and Akamaru in the trees keeping watch.

Your arm came around his back as you kneeled beside him, he turns his body towards you and hugs you back as your arms envelop him and you hum softly, hands softly rubbing his back like always as his heart calms down.

During the day, no one would guess that you two were this close. No one would guess that Shino trusts you this much. To everyone else you were just from neighboring clans and close friends who went on missions together.

It started when you had a nightmare one night when you were a kid. You went to your roof to get some air and from there you were able to see across the forest to the top of Shino’s home, where he sat as well. After seeing each other a few nights in a row, he gestures to meet in the middle of the woods that connect your clans lands, and since then you’ve always found each other for relief whenever you could.

“Are you okay?” You whisper into his ear and he nods into you but his hands have your shirt tight in his fists. “Stay?” He asks in a broken voice and you feel your breath hitch

“Are you sure? We’ve never..” he leans back and looks at you, taking a shaky inhale “I’m next for watch, then you’re last after me. Stay.” You feel your cheeks warm and your heart flutter and you nod slowly.

He moves so you can lay down next to him and he pulls you into his arms against his chest as his bugs zip up his bag with you both in it.

You didn’t want to think about what the morning will be like, didn’t want to overthink about it, your brain was screaming to tell him you loved him but you just couldn’t open your mouth and say the words.

You fell asleep quickly against his chest and before you know it he was lightly running his fingers across your forehead, brushing your hair back as he whispers your name.

“Y/n” he whispers and you take a deep inhale as your brain come backs to consciousness “it’s time” he says and your eyes flutter open.

You look up at him in the dark for a few moments with a soft smile before nodding and sitting up

“Okay. Thank you Shino” you whisper back and climb from his bed to go back to your own to slip on shoes and grab your pouch and headband.

Shino watched you get ready and thought about how it would be to have you sleep beside him every night and wake up together. Getting ready for the day together and getting breakfast before you both had to go to work and train your own shinobi. He imagines coming home to you and sleeping by you, being with you always and when you look his way and smile, the light from dying fire lighting your face, he knows that’s what he wants.

The sunrise warmed your face and by the time you jumped from the trees into your camp, the other four were awake. “Good morning” you say with a smile and are met with tired eyes as they wake up. When you meet shino’s look he smiles softly “good morning” he says softly back and your heart feels as happy as you look when your smile softened and you sigh softly holding his gaze for a few more seconds before you started to pack up your own things.

He keeps glancing over at you every few moments as you pack up camp, watching as you meticulously, in the same routine as always, roll up your bed and put your things in your pack. By the time you’re all ready, it’s like no one was ever here to begin with, it always makes you smile to see how well you could disappear without a trace. He loved that smile.

“When we get back,” he says as he catches up to you as you run through the trees “would you like to get dinner with me?”

You look over at him with a little grin “like a date? Or just dinner?” You ask and your grin spreads when the ear you can see turns pink

He clears his throat “a date”

You guessed his feelings matched yours when he asked you to stay, but you didn’t expect him to move so fast. When you really think about it, it makes sense when you finally know how you feel you don’t wanna wait around anymore, especially as shinobi.

“I’d love to” you say and smile “after we debrief, I’m all yours Shino” he nods, cheeks flushing matching his ears as he falls back into place.

The debriefing when by swiftly, the mission a success and your wages given. Afterwards, you head to dinner with Shino and unsurprisingly, much to your relief, it was like it always was. It was easy and light, you felt comfortable with him. Nothing was different.

He brushes the hair from your face and you suck in a sharp inhale, a gasp from his warm touch. You lean into his touch and watch the corners of his mouth twitch into a tiny smile, making your heart race.

Okay so maybe one thing was different.

When you leave the restaurant you have the biggest pleased smile as his fingers lace with yours.

Two different things.

But the difference felt so right, like it was always meant to be like this.

The walk to your home was silent, spent in stolen glances and smiles, like you both knew a secret that no one else did. When you finally arrived outside your door, the exhaustion from your mission was hitting you both. You knew he wanted to go home and shower but there was a selfish part of your heart that didn’t want him to leave.

“Thank you Shino” you say with a smile as you slip your key into the lock but don’t turn in, just let it hang there as you look up at him.

“Do you wanna get breakfast with me in the morning?” You ask and he lets out a breath of relief as he nods

“Please” he says and gives your hand a small squeeze but doesn’t let it go

You reach up and cup his cheek “so I’ll see you in the morning?” You ask and he nods “I wouldn’t miss another date with you” he says and steps closer, dropping your hand to pull you to his chest

You sigh and bury your face into his neck, either the exhaustion or just feeling it’s the right time you don’t know but something compelled you and you didn’t stop the words when they touched your tongue

“it’s always been you Shino” you whisper “it’ll always be you”

He pulls back just enough to press his forehead against yours “it’s always been you for me too” he whispers before his lips gently press into yours.

#shino fanfiction #shino fluff #shino aburame x you #shino aburame x reader #shino aburame #Shino aburame x y/n #shino x you #shino x y/n #shino x reader #naruto fanfiction

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lostinthewiind · 3 years

Text

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 3

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous →Part 2

Next →Part 4

Never before had you dreaded something more than you dreaded arriving for work the morning following your incident with Keishin. More than anything, you hoped he was thoroughly pissed at you and had left for work early that day so that the two of you wouldn’t have to see each other, but much to your displeasure and horror, when you stepped into the store that morning, he was sitting at the front counter, waiting for you.

How was he not pissed at you after what you had said to him?

When the sound of the front doors sliding open filled the otherwise silent building, leaving the keys in your hand useless as Keishin had already unlocked the store, you gripped the keys tightly and swallowed hard when he looked up at you. He didn’t say anything at first, maybe because he was waiting to see if you would make the first move, but after last night you were done making first moves when it came to him.

Averting his gaze and dropping your head low, you shoved the keys back into your pocket and headed for the back room to put your stuff away and get this day over with.

Just as you were about to open the door to the back room, Keishin cleared his throat and you stopped in your tracks, head turning to look at him without thinking about it.

“Good morning, Y/N.” This was the very first time he had greeted you first, and on top of that, the very first time he had ever used your name.

You weren’t sure how to respond, confusion and excitement mixing in your body to create an overwhelming concoction. “Good morning,” you mumbled in response before disappearing into the back before he could do anything else out of the ordinary, like God forbid initiate a conversation or something.

You took your sweet time getting ready, delaying heading out to the front of the store as long as possible to give Keishin ample time to leave. After about fifteen minutes or so, you emerged only to find him sitting right where he had been before, newspaper sprawled on the counter and a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Shouldn’t you have left by now?” The questioned slipped past your lips before you even had the chance to filter it through your head.

Eyes wide, Keishin was surprised that you had spoken to him almost as much as you were. “We’re expecting a big delivery today, so I’m sticking around,” he answered. “You’ve never handled one by yourself so my mom asked me to show you how it’s done.”

Your heart sank, your stomach twisted, your knees felt weak. So he was going to be here with you all day long? “Perfect,” you groaned, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm in your tone. “That’s just awesome. Great.”

“Listen, it’s not my idea of an ideal day either, but it is what it is,” he said. “So why don’t we just put last night behind us, chalk it up to exhaustion and the influence of alcohol on my part, and move forward?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, the fact that you couldn’t seem to figure him out thoroughly starting to irritate you. “How are you not angry at me?” you questioned him. “I was . . . horrible last night.”

You had spent the entire night after getting home thinking about the horrendous way you had behaved. The things you had done and said made you feel awful and you couldn’t understand how Keishin wasn’t on the brink of smacking the shit out of you right now.

“It’s fine.” He flashed a smile, trying his best to prove that he wasn’t dwelling on the past. “I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

Looking around to double check that the two of you were the only ones in the store, you lowered your voice before speaking. “But I put my hands on you. You can really just forget that?” Heat swelled in your cheeks as you recalled the less horrible events that had taken place.

“I touched you too,” he reminded you.

“Yeah, but yours was an accident.” You weren’t sure why you were saying all of this stuff; it was almost like you wanted him to be angry at you. Who knows, maybe you did. “I called you a burnout.”

Keishin let out a booming laugh at that. “Take a good long look at me, kid.” He smirked, gesturing to himself. “You really think I’ve never been called worse?”

“I don’t think that’s the point,” you breathed out.

Keishin opened his mouth to speak, but before he let a word out, he changed his mind and pressed his lips together. In the meantime, he watched you, the cogs in his head obviously working hard. “You’re an odd one, you know that?” He stood up, walked over to you, and set a hand on your shoulder. “I said it’s fine, so just forget about it, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, finally giving in.

“Good. Now, get to work, because this place isn’t going to run itself and I’m only here to help with the delivery, so until then, I’ll be napping on the couch in the back. Wake me up when the truck gets here.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Keishin gave you a pat on the head and disappeared into the back room without another word.

You stood in place for a moment, unsure if the fact that he had forgiven you so easily was a relief or not. You didn’t allow yourself to worry too long about that though, because, like Keishin had said, you had work to do and the store wasn’t going to run itself. And, if your memory served you correctly, you had some sweeping to do in the back corner.

For about two hours, you fell back into your normal workday routine, completely forgetting about the events of the previous night or the fact that Keishin was napping in the back. That was, until you saw the delivery truck pull up in front of the store and remembered you had been given the task of waking the sleeping man.

Heading into the back, you moved slowly and quietly even though it didn’t matter if you woke Keishin since that was what you were supposed to do anyway.

“Keishin,” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. “The delivery truck is here.”

Of course, he didn’t even budge at that. Nervously, you stepped closer to the couch, unable to ignore the fact that Keishin looked completely different when he was asleep. The usual frown or cocky grin he sported was nowhere to be seen and he didn’t seem as intimidating when his eyes were closed and his breathing was so slow and rhythmic.

“Keishin.” You reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder like he had done to you earlier and shook him slightly. Still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you were unsure what to try next aside from shouting right in his face. If only he had warned you he was a heavy sleeper.

Deciding to try one last thing before you resorting to screeching, you leaned closer to his ear, planted your hand on his chest—a brief memory of how you had touched him last night flashing in your mind—and shook him once more while you spoke. “Keishin, the delivery truck is here,” you said, not whispering but also not being too loud.

Thankfully, the mixture of shaking him and speaking directly into his ear seemed to finally do the trick and his eyes shot open. Immediately, you jumped back, not wanting him to be weirded out by how close you were to him.

Eyes travelling up to meet yours, Keishin yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “Truck’s here?” he clarified.

“Yeah, it just arrived,” you told him, waiting for him to get up. “You should have told me you were a heavy sleeper. I was about to scream or pour water over you or something.”

Keishin cringed at the thought of that. “Well, thank goodness you didn’t. Next time, just pinch my nose or tickle me or something . . . anything but water.”

“Next time?” you asked. “You plan on taking naps on the couch often?”

“It’s my favourite place to nap. You should try it sometime,” he said before heading for the door. “Come on, let’s get this delivery over with. Try to learn fast so I don’t have to teach you again.”

“I’ll try my best.”

As you had pretty much expected, the delivery had been pretty straight forward. After helping the delivery man unload all of the boxes into the storage room and signing off on the delivery, the most time-consuming and complex part of the process was taking an inventory of the new supplies, which you picked up on pretty quickly.

Keishin showed you how to mark down the new delivery on the clipboard kept in the storage room and where to input the total count for each item. From there, all you had to do was make sure you had received everything and had the correct number ordered.

“Pretty easy, right?” He glanced at you out the corner of his eye as the two of you worked together at counting the inventory, keeping an ear open for customers in the process.

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem hard. Just time consuming,” you agreed.

“Exactly. We usually get a big delivery like this about once a month, then smaller deliveries throughout the week for more perishable items, as you already know.”

You nodded, quickly becoming lost in the repetitive task of counting and writing down the amount on the clipboard. Weirdly enough, you found that you didn’t actually hate taking inventory; the simple task was actually kind of calming and passed the time effortlessly.

“50,” you muttered under your breath, jotting down the number in the correct box right after you finished counting. When you turned back to start on the next box, you caught Keishin looking in your direction. “What?” You furrowed your brows at him. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“You,” he responded, quickly elaborating when you shot him a confused look. “Well, more specifically, why you took this job.”

You shrugged as you continued working. “I already told you. I need the money.”

“Right, so you can move out on your own. But why?”

Your hands stopped grabbing items and your mind stopped counting, making you lose track. “Because I’ve been waiting for as long as I can remember to live my own life and now that I have the opportunity, I’m not going to pass it up.”

“But wouldn’t you much rather be going to school? Surely you don’t want to work in a place like this for the rest of your life.”

You sighed heavily. “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

“I’m just curious,” Keishin said. “I want to understand you better.”

“I don’t think you could truly understand unless you experienced the childhood that I did.”

Stopping his work as well, Keishin leaned against the shelf and crossed his arms over his chest. “Try me.”

Rolling your eyes, you accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to give up. “First thing’s first, I’m not saying my childhood was tragic or anything. My parents didn’t beat me. They fed me and clothed me and everything a parent should.” You started, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “I was just never allowed to live my own life or make my own decisions. I ate what my parents wanted me to eat, I wore what they wanted me to wear. I took the classes they wanted me to, I was friends with who they thought would make a good friend. They went overboard on trying to get me to do what they thought was best for me. I was never old enough or mature enough to know what I really wanted. I lived in a controlling dictatorship.”

“What about soccer?” Keishin asked, proving that he had actually remembered the conversation the two of you had had on your first day at the store. “You told me you used to play.”

You smiled fondly at the thought of your high school soccer team. “That was the only thing I ever got to pick for myself . . . and it took months of convincing, and in the end, I was only allowed to continue because I was good at it. The fact that I genuinely enjoyed it never came into account for my parents.” Your smiled faded slightly. “Sometimes they even managed to drain the fun from that as well, but I refused to let them ruin it for me because it was the only thing I had that was mine.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Every day . . . but this is more important right now.”

Keishin was silent for a few moments while he processed everything you had said. “Sounds like everything needed to have a purpose.”

“Pretty much. If something had no chance of providing success in the future, it was a waste of time.”

“So the plan is to work so you can afford your own place, then go to school next year? How are you going to afford school?”

“Well, if I had followed my parents plan for me and started working toward a law degree, they would have paid for it. But since I’ve decided to do my own thing now, I’m just lucky they haven’t kicked me out of the house yet . . . so I guess I’ll have to get a scholarship or apply for student loans. I’ll basically be scraping by, so I’ve applied for a bunch of community colleges and I’ll go from there I guess.”

Fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, Keishin lit one before sticking it between his lips. “What do you want to do?”

You laughed slightly at that. “I have no idea. I was never allowed to have hobbies or interests, so I don’t even know what I like. I just know what I don’t like. If I could do anything though, I’d apply for the University of Tokyo. They have a great soccer program. I just want to play soccer again.”

Keishin smiled. “Just soccer?”

“For now, yeah. I’ve learned that I’ll have to take life step by step, so that’s the first major goal. I’ll probably take some first year classes and see what I like and go from there. I think it’s okay to not have a set-in-stone plan sometimes . . . after all, this is the first time in my life I’ve never had my future planned out for me. It’s kind of exciting . . . scary, too, but exciting.”

Keishin sighed contently as he watched your eyes light up when you talked about the things you wanted to do in the future. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“So what was the point of what happened last night?” he inquired. “And, while we’re at it, the past few weeks as well. How do I fit into this grand plan of yours?”

You felt your heart pound against your chest. “I thought we were forgetting about last night?”

“We are,” he assured you. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just curious, is all.”

You thought for a moment, unsure how to phrase exactly how you were feeling. At first, you were inclined to take him up on his offer to not answer, but after how nice he had been to you today, you felt you owed him at least that.

“Originally, I was in a pretty messed-up head space and I wanted to use you to get back at my parents,” you told him truthfully, “. . . but after last night, I did some serious thinking and realized that wasn’t the case. What I really want is to prove to my parents that not everything that is different or ‘not according to plan’ is bad. You have an . . . alternative look about you,” you tried to phrase that as respectfully as possible, causing Keishin to chuckle, “but you’re not a bad person or, despite my harsh words last night, a burnout. You coach volleyball for high school kids and you help out at your family’s store and even though I’ve been pretty horrible to you, you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

You paused, unsure if you should say the last part or not. “I don’t know, I just think that maybe if they met you, they might realize that I’m capable of making good choices for myself even if it doesn’t fit their predetermined mold of my life.”

“You think I’m a good choice?” he asked, taken aback by your honesty.

“Yeah.” You eyed him while he took a drag from his cigarette and let the smoke spill from his lips. “Maybe not the nicotine addiction part, but hey, no one’s perfect.”

Keishin chuckled before putting his smoke out. “Okay, I’ve got a deal for you.”

You cocked a brow at him. “What?”

“If I pretend to be your boyfriend and help you fix things with your parents, you have to apply to the University of Tokyo and follow your dream of playing soccer.”

You were thoroughly perplexed. “Both conditions of that deal only really benefit me. What do you get out of it?”

He just shrugged. “Nothing.”

You scoffed. “Well, as generous and sketchy as that sounds, there is no way I would be able to afford the University of Tokyo on my own and I don’t think any amount of ass-kissing could make my parents agree to pay for me to go there to play soccer and figure life out.”

“Hey, one step at a time, right?” He used your own words against you.

You contemplated his offer for a moment. “You’re really okay with that? Even though you get nothing but more work out of it?”

“I suggested it, didn’t I?”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “You’d really pretend to be my boyfriend? Even though I’m just some rebellious kid?”

“Your opinion of me changed,” he pointed out. “Why can’t my opinion of you change too?”

“Fair enough,” you conceded. “Well, if you’re absolutely positive you won’t regret it when you wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll happily accept your deal. Thank you.”

Keishin turned back to the stack of boxes and promptly returned to the task at hand. “You’re welcome.”

You watched him work and quietly hum to himself while he did so. This time, it was his turn to catch you staring. “What?” he looked over at you.

“I just didn’t peg you for such a softy is all,” you joked.

“Yeah, yeah,” he scoffed at you. “Just don’t fall in love with me or anything, kid.”

You smirked. “Whatever you say, old man.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#ukai keishin #ukai keishin x reader #ukai #lostinthewiind #piss off your parents #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #song fic #part 3 #haikyuu smut #series

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uswntxfootball · 3 years

Text

baby, you’re like lightning in a bottle (kristie mewis x reader)

sam doesn’t know, so it’s unintentionally a series of rendezvous in the hotel.

word count: 2388 ish

rating: H for hi i had some time to write so i did this short thing and Y for yeah i’ve been in a kristie kind of a phase so enjoy :)

title- electric love, borns

——

your heart beat wildly in your chest as you laid there on the ground, sam’s voice distracting you from the grossness of the hotel room floor.

“okay now can you get up and put on some clothes already so we can go to breakfast?”

there’s a little bit more chatter until you hear a bit of rustling from the bed on top of you, followed by the clicking of a door, signaling sam’s exit from the room.

still, you don’t dare to move, but it’s only when kristie bursts out laughing that you do.

“okay that was too close of a call!”

you shuffle out from under the bed and glare at your girlfriend, which only makes her laugh harder.

you sit back onto the bed, a sheet draped over you, and pout.

“you didn’t have to kick me off the bed you asshole!”

kristie rolled her eyes.

“would you rather have been naked in my bed when sam walked in?”

“alright fair point,” you grumble.

kristie laughs again, and you try to stay mad at her, but when your girlfriend is kristie mewis, how could you?

you eventually join in the laughter and break out into a grin, giving your girlfriend a quick kiss on the cheek when she walks by to get her phone.

“as much as i love you like this you should get dressed too y/n.”

you roll your eyes but agree.

“yeah yeah- speaking of, where is my shirt?”

kristie looks up from her phone and arches a brow at you.

“it’s your shirt. how would i know?”

you smirk and pull her in gently by the front of her hoodie, the girl in front of you gasping slightly as you do so.

“well you ripped it off of me last night didn’t you?”

kristie grins and wraps her arms around your neck.

“perhaps.”

you look up and meet her in a searing kiss, your tongue slipping in her mouth almost immediately.

kristie pushes you onto your back and moves her kisses to your neck, but a slam on the door makes the two of you jump and almost fall off the bed in surprise.

“COME ON KRISTIE I’M HUNGRY!”

your girlfriend groans into your neck before screaming a reply:

“JUST WAIT FOR ME IN THE LOBBY!”

“OKAY FINE!”

kristie groans, and just as she opens her mouth, sam cuts her off again.

“OKAY BUT YOU BETTER NOT FALL ASLEEP AGAIN!”

kristie rolls her eyes.

“SHUT UP I’M COMING!”

“not anymore..” you mutter, earning a smack on the chest from your girlfriend.

despite her annoyance, she leans down to give you one last peck before making her way to the bathroom.

“okay i’ll leave first, and i’ll text you when the coast is clear so you can go back to your room.”

you hum in compliance.

“mhm okay kris.”

a few minutes later, after your phone pinged with a text, you still couldn’t find your shirt, so you slip on one of kristie’s hoodies on your way out, not noticing the trail of hickies down the side of your neck...

it’s later when you arrive at practice that your carelessness bites you in the ass.

you were warming up alongside abby, when your girlfriend arrives with sam and rose, the trio heavily conversing in a topic unknown to you.

your ears perked up immediately upon hearing your girlfriend’s voice, your eyes following her every step.

you blush a little when your eyes meet sam’s, this morning’s close call still fresh on your mind.

the taller midfielder shoots you a smile and a wave, both of which you reciprocate.

kristie and rose do the same, though kristie’s eyes linger on you for a little bit, which you realize is probably because you’re wearing her hoodie.

she meets your eyes again and you quirk your eyebrow up a little challengingly.

your girlfriend rolls her eyes and mouths:

“you look hot.”

you smirk and do a little hair flip and mouth back, “i know”, all which earn a halfhearted eye roll from kristie.

an exclamation from sonnett tears your vision away from your girlfriend.

“damn y/n that’s one hell of a mosquito!”

your eyes immediately shoot to sonnett’s face in panic, and from the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of kristie’s similar expression.

you clear your throat.

“what?”

sonnett makes her way to you and leans in to inspect your neck.

she points to the trail on your neck:

“these...things.”

you swat her hands away.

sonnett narrows her eyes.

“wait a minute..”

you turn away abruptly and mouth a “sorry” to kristie.

sonnett grabs your shoulders and spins you back around towards her.

“...these are fresh! who’s defiling you during camp?!”

“i-“

“okay girls! time for practice!”

thank god for vlatko.

unsurprisingly, you get swarmed again at lunch.

by this point, everyone knows.

kelley runs into you first.

“alright so who are you banging?”

you roll your eyes.

“i’m not banging anyone.”

kelley snorts as she grabs a salad.

“yeah right. and i’m straight.”

you roll your eyes again and ignore her, taking a seat at your typical table.

kristie sits down next to you as soon as you get there.

“hey.”

your mood almost immediately improves.

“hey,” you grin back at her.

the bashful smiles and exchanges aren’t missed by rose, who almost squeals in excitement across the room.

she grabs sam’s arm, but realizing who’s she’s talking to, almost immediately drops it.

sam gives her a weird look, but returns to her lunch nonetheless.

too caught up in staring at your girlfriend’s side profile, you almost scream when sonnett claps your back and leans over you.

“emily sonnett! what is wrong with you!”

the defender just laughs.

“what do you want?”

“you know what i want. who are you banging?”

kristie chokes on her bite of food next to you.

“i told you already, no one.”

sonnett rolls her eyes and opts to question kristie, who’s currently coughing, instead.

“hey you and y/n are close, do you know?”

kristie finishes coughing and locks eyes with you, smirking.

“i don’t know y/n, who are you banging?”

you roll your eyes and stand up.

“y’all are annoying.”

you throw away the remnants of your lunch and meet kristie’s eyes, who takes the hint and gets up too.

unbeknownst to you, rose is watching your every move, and seeing the exchange, gets up to follow you.

as soon as the elevator door closes, you push kristie into the corner.

“hey.”

kristie grins and gives you a kiss.

“hey to you too.”

the two of you meet again, but you pull back after a few seconds.

“do you think it’s time to tell them?”

kristie sighs.

“i don’t know, we could just have them figure it out themselves.”

“true. b-“

kristie shushes you.

“less talking, more doing whatever we were doing before.”

you grin and comply, the two of you so caught up in kissing that you don’t hear the elevator doors open.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD I KNEW IT!”

you spring apart so abruptly you hit your head on the wall.

rose stands before you panting slightly, but more excited than anything.

you furrow your brows in confusion.

“how did- we took the elevator-“

kristie butts in.

“di-did you run up the stairs?”

rose nods regretfully.

“all six floors?”

she nods again.

“but how did you-“

“okay enough about me!”

rose grabs your arms and pulls the two of you out of the elevator and into the hallway.

“how long-”

you finish for her.

“-is my dick?”

kristie smacks your arm and rose rolls her eyes.

you hold you hands up in defense.

kristie shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“i’m dating a child.”

rose asks again.

“how long have you been together?”

you grin and give kristie a kiss on the cheek before saying:

“a little over a month.”

rose squeals in excitement.

“wait does sam know?”

“do i know what?”

the three of you spin around to see sam stepping out of the elevator with a confused look on her face.

when you remain silent, she asks again.

“what did i miss?”

rose saves the two of you.

well.

sort of.

“we’re talking about y/n’s hickies! have you seen them?”

sam replies in the negative.

she leans in and inspects your neck, and over her head you catch kristie’s glare directed at rose.

“these are fresh! so it’s someone at camp!”

rose agrees with her.

“that’s what i said! but she denies it!”

“y/n.”

you look up at them.

“yes?”

“tell us.”

“nope.”

“please?”

“nope.”

you should’ve known that they wouldn’t let you off the hook that quickly.

team movie night was happening, and kristie knocked on your shared room a whole 30 minutes before it began.

abby was the one who opened it.

“oh kristie, hey, you know it doesn’t start for like another half an hour right?”

you sneak up behind abby and grin.

“she knows.”

abby’s eyes flicker between the two of you when it hits her.

she makes an “oh” face and lets your girlfriend in.

“please don’t have sex while i’m here.”

you assure her.

“don’t worry, wasn’t planning on it.”

luckily for you, your best friend wasn’t as pushy or nosy as the rest of the team was.

you could tell there were questions she wanted to ask, but abby being abby, refrained from doing so.

so all was well.

for those thirty minutes.

and then the rest of the team arrived.

“all in favor of skipping movie night for a non alcoholic version of never have i ever say aye!”

following kelley’s exclamation, a loud cacophony of “aye’s” could be heard throughout the room.

you rolled your eyes.

of course.

you turn towards your girlfriend who shrugs.

“alright everyone make a circle make a circle!”

you get dragged by abby to sit next to her, across from kristie, who’s sitting next to sam.

kristie meets your eyes and you both smile a little.

then the game started.

it was innocent enough at first.

“okay never have i ever ridden a ferris wheel!”

everyone groans.

“really sam?!”

“that’s so lame!”

and then after a few rounds it got interesting.

“never have i ever dated a national team teammate!”

rose stared at you when she said it.

you shoot her a glare and try to non conspicuously take a sip of your drink, kristie doing the same.

“NO! KRISTIE!” sam exclaimed in shock.

kristie rolled her eyes.

“surprise?”

sam gave her a look that read we need to talk later.

you get the same treatment from the kids.

“wait y/n who have you dated?!”

“is that who gave you the hickies?!”

“is-“

you cut them off.

“OKAY next one.”

suddenly sam stands up when her phone rings:

“wait hold on pat’s calling me.”

everyone awws and sam rolls her eyes, before stepping out into the hallway to take the phone call.

kelley pipes in to continue and you groan when you hear it.

“never have i ever had sex in the past week.”

you meet kristie’s eyes and both of you blush, grabbing your drinks along with tobin and christen.

“NO WAY! I-“

lindsey promptly slaps a hand over sonnett’s mouth to shut her up.

it takes a second for it to click.

then everyone starts talking at once.

“I KNEW IT!”

“DAMN YOU’RE LUCKY SAM ISNT IN HERE!”

“IS THAT WHY YOU ASKED TO BORROW MY ROOM UGH GROSS!”

you yell at them to shut up.

“OKAY!”

you look at kristie apologetically, who just shrugs and smiles at you.

you look at everyone and say:

“okay you get three questions collectively.”

christen pipes in first.

“how long?”

kristie answers.

“a little over a month-.”

sonnett cuts off the rest of your sentence.

“how the fuck did you keep it a secret for that long?!”

“is that your second question?”

everyone glares at the blonde defender almost immediately.

“sorry sorry.”

“does sam know?”

you both shake your head.

“alright one question left.”

“how’s the sex?”

that question is followed by a “kelley!” and a slap.

kristie responds to it nonetheless, accompanying the end with a wink.

“great thanks for asking.”

you blush and the rest of the team gags.

“hey what’d i miss?”

oh right. sam.

“we just finished up another round.”

“oh cool what was the question?”

“never have i ever had sex in the past week.”

sam scrunches up her face.

“that’s a boring one. i mean it would just be tobin and christen right?”

a week later, she found out.

“WOULD ANYONE CARE TO EXPLAIN WHAT IVE JUST UNWILLINGLY WITNESSED?!!”

sam’s shriek wakes both of you up.

your heart was hammering in your chest under the blanket you pulled over yourself.

kristie just groaned and pulled her pillow over her head.

“AGAIN I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE AN EXPLANATION!”

kristie mumbled under the pillow:

“surprise, we’re dating.”

sam’s face softened.

“you’re dating?”

kristie sat up.

“yes. how’d you even get in this room?”

“jane gave me your keycard.”

“ah.”

“you’re really dating?”

“yes.”

sam claps happily.

“i have to call pat now! we can go on double dates omg this’ll be so fun!”

sam sits down on the opposite bed and grins.

“y/n you can stop hiding now.”

from under the covers you mumble:

“i’m not wearing anything.”

sam crinkles her nose in disgust.

“okay never mind then.”

you take a peek at sam, who’s smiling widely and happily, and then at kristie, who’s watching you with a loving smile.

seeing her, you temporarily forget sam’s there and give your girlfriend a quick kiss.

“hey.”

kristie smiles back.

“good morning you.”

sam’s watching the interaction with a shit eating grin, and when you move to kiss kristie again, she covers her eyes.

“ew y/n you just side boobed me.”

you flip her off and kiss your girlfriend anyway.

#kristie mewis #kristie mewis imagine #kristie mewis x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #woso imagine #woso imagines

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saturnsstufff · 3 years

Text

The Empress pt.IX

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, mentions of death.

(So, sorry this is so short)

After talking with Phil you both decided it would be best to return to the party. Although you weren't looking forward to seeing the lingering looks and stares, you were looking forward to dancing with Techno. Now that you've had a moment to ease your senses, you were able to push away the others and focus on your lover.

When Techno saw you walk in with Phil, his lips turned into a smile. He offered his arm back to you, of course you took it without hesitation. Phil was happy to see you two having fun together, a lot of the things techno did with you, was what Phil did with his wife. So seeing you two was almost a blast from the past.

"Feeling better?" He asked softly. His arm rested on your forearm. Wanting to clarify that you were ok. You gave him a nod and smiled.

"Much better." He gave a reassuring nod and turned to the crowd again. You noticed the lingering eyes had fallen back to you. As much as you wanted to say the two of you looked like a casual couple. Techno was dressed beautifully in his traditional military uniform, truly looking regal and official. Like Sarah, she was also in her traditional uniform as well. Although looking around, most of the attendees were in uniform. This is what Sarah must have meant when she said that most of her friends were within her ranks. Even as Sarah's Maid of Honor, you were dressed very nicely. Purples and reds adorned the dress. Techno's favorite colors. You didn't know it, but Techno had specifically requested that you were dressed as regal as possible. Since this was the first time the public, and court would see you, he wanted to make a lasting impression with you. He knew you weren't the most ladylike, but for what your manners lacked, your personality made up for. You were kind and always willing to correct yourself. He only hoped that the court would see this as well.

After a while Techno and you had found a comfortable seat to eat a little late dinner. Of course the meal last long as the time came for the brides to have their dance with the fathers. On Sarah's behalf this meant a dance with Techno. You had no problem offering him up to her of course. You knew she had no intention of stealing Techno or anything of the sorts. when they made their way to the ball room floor, the two contrasted greatly. Technoblade was dressed in darks well Seraphina was in whites, It was beautiful to say the least, but then again most things within this palace was.

Well Techno and Sarah danced, you felt little hands tug at the hem of your dress. Tommy. You looked down at the little boy. Like his brother's he was dressed just as nice. You couldn't help smiling wide, taking him into your arms. When you rested him on your knee he quickly became interested with the items on the table. Of course you didn't mind though. You even offered him the roll from your plate, knowing they were his favorite. When you looked up, you saw Philza give you a gentle nod, and a smile. Acknowledging Tommy was with you.

Well you watched your lover dance with the bride, a middle-aged man had approached you and Tommy. He was dressed well, but not in uniform. He looked loosely bemused as he offered you a drink. You gave a shy smile but politely declined. "You don't drink?" He inquired. His eyebrow lifting in question. He didn't look kind, but he also didn't look mean.

"Not particularly, I'm sorry" you said softly. Pulling Tommy closer to you subconsciously. You were unsure of the man as he took Technoblade's chair ever so casually.

"Oh your alright, give it time. You'll take up drinking" he said too casually, leaning into the chair. You blinked a bit, taken back by his words.

"I... I beg your pardon?" You asked, wanting to clarify what you herd. He looked at you and raised a semi bushy brow.

"You'll take up drinking. As long as your with that man there" He pointed to Techno "I bet you'll become an alcoholic even." His eyebrow quirked as a devious smirk formed. His eyes were lingering Technoblade, who unbeknownst to you, had a not so happy look when seeing you and the man. "Or I bet you'll mysteriously go missing, or die" your eyes glanced about, now looking for a familiar face. The longer this man was with you, the more uncomfortable you grew with his presence.

"I.. I’m doubtful that will happen.. Technoblade is a kind man to me..." you said carefully, your eyes flickering to the man well you held Tommy close. Protective of him from the rather rude man In front of you.

The mans eyes lingered to Tommy and back to you. "We'll see..." he dropped that conversation for a new one. "Where are my manners, my name is Leon Schmidt." He held his hand out for you. Adjusting Tommy you offered your hand and shook his. To your surprise your hand was stronger than his. His hands were not worn and worked with trade, but instead soft, and made for pens and books. With this small note you felt a slight surge of confidence.

"Nice to meet you... I'm (y/n)-" he cut you off quickly.

You felt a warm hand rest on your shoulder. The hardened tone of the person ran through. Technoblade. "Schmidt." You could see Leon's Adams apple bob slightly as techno addressed him. "I see you have met (y/n)" Techno's tone wasn't kind, rather harsh to be frank.

"Oh I know who you are. Your very popular among us court members." He said taking his hand back, almost looking as if he wiped it. He took his drink in his hand and took the one he brought you. "As a sign of friendship and with the hopes the Emperor takes care of you. Lets drink to your health." He offered the drink again. You took it but you were hesitant. You didn't want to drink, but what would happen if you declined? He held his glass out for a toast. You glanced your glass to his and slowly toasted. You looked down to the glass and thought back. You didn't want to disappoint Techno, and have the court pressure him about you. The liquid was rolling with pearlescent Yellow's, orange's and red's. With a glance to Techno you carefully took a sip. Setting it aside after. Having no desire to drink more. You felt the liquid drop down your throat, a slow buildup of warmth filling your body.

Alcohol.

"That I have... How long until this one ends up bored, or dead, Blood God?" You glanced up to Techno and saw his Jaw lock.

"For your information, Leon... I intend to marry (y/n)..." his hand held firm but kind on your shoulder. Acting almost like a protector of Tommy and you. Your face went red, your heart beating much faster. He Intended to marry you? Well Tommy played with the beads of your dress, your mind raced at the idea of you and him being a official couple. Would you have a wedding like this? Would he actually want that?

"Marriage? With her?" The man chocked out a loud laugh. This left Techno seething. However, Techno's attention was drawn from Leon's boisterous laugh to you instead. You weren't acting normal. With your hand subconsciously your throat you loosely rubbed. Your breathing began to turn ragged and strained slowly. With a slight blue tinge to your lips Technoblade knew something was horribly wrong.

"What did you put in her drink." At his his tone was nothing but sharp and demanding. Harshly taking your glass to smell it. With nothing sticking out to the hybrids senses, he set the glass down.

Well Leon's laughs died down, he no longer found amusement at Techno's cruel tone. Techno took Tommy off your lap, taking your hand in his. The clammy feeling of your hands and your rapid heart rate was enough to tell him the problem.

Your body was going into shock.

When you came around the sun was already up. You were in your own bed well Tommy was curled up beside you, peacefully asleep with his teddy bear in arms. You let your head roll as your eyes scanned the room, falling to Technoblade in the end. His back was to you well he faced out the window, you could tell he was deep in thought. He was no longer in his formal attire. Instead he was in casual wear, his hair was in a messy bun, showing whatever he was doing demanded his full attention.

"Te..chno?.." your voice was ragged but he clearly herd it, turning to face you his eyes softened fast.

"(y/n)..." he quickly walked over and sat beside you on the bed. His hand moved your hair back before he placed a soft kiss to your forehead, happy to see you awake once more. "How do you feel?" His eyes were worried, but gentle.

"I... think ok?" You asked uncertain. Your body felt tired, but also well rested. You were looking up at him, your eyes dancing between his for how he felt.

"Do you remember what happened?" His tone was soft and gentle. Rather if that was because of Tommy asleep by you, or because you had gave him a scare, you wouldn't know.

"I remember... a man, Tommy, and you... then my throat felt weird..." he nodded slowly and cupped your cheek gently.

"You had a Reaction to your drink... Did you know you are allergic to Blaze powder?..." you nodded slowly. When you lived within your village, your mother found out about the allergy when she gave you a strength potion. Well she intended it to be helpful, instead it was harmful. He tossed a few thoughts around within his head before nodding. "That drink you had with Leon yesterday had Blaze Powder... Your body went into shock love..."

You thought back about last night and realized. the pearlescent. Then it hit you. The wedding. Your heart sank slowly, you still had wanted a dance with Techno before the night ended. "Wha... I... I'm sorry..." You said slowly, trying to sit up. He shook his head and rested his forehead on yours, easing you back down.

"You have nothing to be sorry for... Were just reassured your ok..." you nodded, with a little lingering silence you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. He didn't hesitate to wrap his own arms around you. Keeping you close to his body.

"We didn't even get to dance together..." your voice was soft and saddened, almost like a child that was scolded. You slowly buried your head into his neck for comfort

"Is that what you wanted?..." you nodded slowly. Taking in his lingering cologne from the night before. He slowly pulled away and moved you. Scooping you up into his arm like you were a bride. You were unsure at first, but wrapped your arms around his neck. Your head resting on his chest. With a slow rocking motion he started to sway with you in his arms. Although you couldn't have a dance with him at the wedding, you actually preferred this. You felt safe and at ease within his arms. "You know I love you..." his voice was soft. Loving. He meant what he was saying.

"I love you too Techno... With all of my heart..." as if those few words meant the world, techno shed a silent tear. You gave him a serious scare last night. He was glad you couldn't remember past your throat hurting either. He knew the things he said to Leon would have stuck with you a bit. Resting his head on yours, he swore from this day on, he would never let something like that happen again.

It didn't take long for Sarah and Leon to come back around to the forge. Sarah came first of course. Techno had advised you keep easy on yourself for the day, so that's what you planned. Well you were at your work bench tending to the jewels of Phil's sword, she had wondered in. Mostly she was just worried about your health and whether you were ok. Curiously she inquired if your throat was doing better, and what had caused the reaction. The last she saw of you was when you were in techno's arms, being carried out well you struggled to breathe. Of course you reassured her that you were now fine and just taking the day easy. with a hesitant nod she parted from the forge, seeking her men out for a final training before the Honeymoon.

When Leon came in that was a different story, unlike the night before he was quiet. His sharp features were now accompanied by a bruise on his cheek. You couldn't recall if he had that yesterday, so you quietly pushed the thought aside. With him in the room it was awkward, although he did try and strike a conversation.

“Is your throat doing better?” You hummed, nodding. keeping to yourself to your bench, not wanting to be any closer to him then you had to be. You chewed your lip. your eyes glancing to his cheek. His eyes much have picked up on it because he had another remark to fallow. “You best watch yourself around that Blood God, girl.” You furrowed your brow at his words. You herd him mention that name last night when he was talking about Techno, but you paid it no mind.

“Blood God?” you asked quietly, almost uncertain.

“Yeah your Lover boy or whatever.” He said scornfully. Technoblade a ‘Blood God’? Whatever he was talking about didn't make sense. Leon must have knew because he have a rouged chuckle. “Ask him about that name. Ask him why his sword hangs heavy with Blood. Just wait. You think he’s all sunshine and shit now- But you wait girl, you wait until you piss him off, and he’s two steps away from snapping your neck-” his little rant didn't last long as he was cut off. Technoblade who towered at the door, stood tall and proud as his face was locked into disgust. His voice dripping with venom for the man.

“I hope your not talking about me, Schmidt.”

@justthatfangirloverthere @itscaity-c @goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro @jackalopedoodles @angelic-scent @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @artsimatsu @justabalroginthenet @seme1e @fangirl570 @sweeetteaa @awlawdtheycoming @idkwhatusernametohave @sugarandspicebutnonice @bambibunz @lynn-draws-blog @buzzybeebee @feathersthewinged @prefesro @astroninaaa @ravennightingaleandavatempus @lifestylesleep @straydog265 @happygalaxymilkshake @vixenfoxpup @truthdaze @alovestruck-fool @luluwinchester @thegeekisheere @ivurie-xo @chxrrymilkshake

#TE #technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #techno x you

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isthisthingeven0n · 4 years

Text

number eleven : s.r

a serial killer is at large in atlana, carving numbers into his victims and throwing their bodies from rooftops. yet, things seem to hit a little too close to home for your liking, and sadly you get caught up in it all (4.2k)

( this is an original idea of mine, I’ve gone based off what I know in the show but the killer is made up! pls do not steal my concept without at least asking, and i hope you enjoy :) )

“It’ll be okay, Spence,” You fight against the unsubs hold as his arm remains pressed against your neck. “just, don’t give up.”

“Please, let her go!” You can hear the crack in his voice as his gun shakes in his grip, his eyes not leaving yours as tears pool. “You don’t have to do this, there’s another choice for you.”

The unsub scoffs as you wince at he breathes into your ear. “This ends with you.”

Two Days Earlier

“Hey, Spencer,” You smile as you walk through the doors to the bullpen, two cups of coffee in hand as you place onto his desk. “how was the Doctor Who convention?”

Out of everyone in the team, you were the only one to pay attention to the small details Spencer shares. You always have done, ever since you first joined the BAU, you noticed the subtle eye rolls as he rambled on with facts and statistics so you made sure to always pay attention.

Lifting his head up, Spencer can feel a smile tugging his lips as you take a seat at your desk adjacent to his. “You would’ve loved it. They had the original designs from the Cybermen’s first appearance in 1966, ‘The Tenth Planet’ and for the time, it was high tech stuff.” He explains whilst you listen contently, oblivious to the others watching you both.

“God, they’re so into each other it hurts.” Emily sighs as Penelope nods along.

JJ walks over to the girls, catching sight of what they’re fixated on. “Why can’t they just say something? I mean, it’s been three years.” Penelope questions, but JJ simply chuckles.

“This is Spencer and Y/n we’re talking about.” JJ comments. “For one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, Spencer can be stupid sometimes.” She states, returning her focus to how you look at Spencer as he talks, but also how willing Spencer is to be close to you and laughs at your input in between his rambles.

“I bet twenty dollars he’ll say something by the end of the year.” Rossi chimes in, but Emily scoffs.

“Dream on, Rossi.” She comments, but Rossi shrugs his shoulders.

Hotch exits his office, catching a glance from the girls who quickly stand up straight. “We’ve got a new case,” He announces, passing between you and Spencer on the way.

As you all enter the board room, you sit beside Spencer as you look at the tablet in front of you whilst he sticks to the original file.

“Within the past few months in Atlanta, Georgia, at least nine women have been found dead having fallen from rooftops, all in their twenties, latest victim was Caroline Kutes, twenty-three. Last seen having gone for a run after her shift at a local diner.” Penelope explains as you scroll through the images, seeing what was left of them from the crime scene.

“It’s not some suicide pack, is it?” Morgan speaks up, but Penelope shakes her head.

“I’m glad you asked, sugar.” She turns her back as she pulls up more images, displaying the victims left forearms.

“Numbers?” You question, zooming in onto the number three having been carved into the victim's flesh. “Someone’s keeping track.”

“So we know there are nine confirmed victims of this unsub then, it’s not a suicide pack.” Hotch states. “The police have requested our insight on the case, wheels up in thirty.”

Closing the tablet you push your chair back. “You alright?” Spencer asks you as everyone begins to file out.

You force a small smile, nodding. “Yeah, just some cases are never easy.” You mutter before heading out and grabbing your things.

Arriving straight to the latest crime scene, Hotch splits the team up. “Prentiss, I want you and Morgan to go to the rooftop, see if there’s anything left by the unsub or Caroline Kutes. Reid, Y/L/N, go to the morgue to take a look at the carvings and if there’s any other sign of torture.”

With that, you climb into a car with Spencer, looking at the drop from the building to where Hotch stands. “One hell of a fall.” You whistle as the driver pulls away, Spencer not missing your comment or how you’ve been wiping your hands over your pants since you arrived.

Standing in the morgue, Spencer took the lead as you stood back whilst bodies were examined. “There isn’t any sign of sexual assault on any of the women, but there are bruises across the neck and the carvings on the arm.” The diener explains. “From the fall she suffered several broken bones, a collapsed lung and a crack to her skull along with internal bleeding.”

“Are you saying she was alive when she hit the ground?” You speak up, stepping closer to see how they’ve managed to clean up the victims face, what remains from the large gash in her head.

“Yes, but only for a minute. She chocked to death on her own blood.” The diener states and you can’t help but feel a shiver through your spine.

“It’s most likely the unsub approached these women, if Caroline was out for a run, he might’ve asked her for directions or grabbed her. If she was grabbed, it would explain the bruising on the neck in an attempt to cut the circulation off to the brain, rendering her unconscious.” Spencer suggests, looking over to you as you remain too quiet for his liking. “You in there?”

Snapping out from your thoughts, you nod. “So the unsub approaches these women, tries to strangle them and then takes them to a rooftop. He isn’t sexually assaulting these women, but why throw them off a roof?”

“If he’s trying to pose it as suicide, it’s unusual for women to throw herself off a roof, it’s too dramatic. If a woman were to commit suicide, she’d overdose or drown herself. A subtle way to go.” Spencer explains as you nod along. “It’s almost as if he’s apologetic. He wants them to suffer, but can’t inflict the pain besides carving a number into their forearm.” Spencer looks over the number on Caroline’s arm. “You can see in some area’s he didn’t go deep enough with the knife, he’s dug in multiple times to carve out enough skin to make it bleed.”

“Maybe he’s a narcissist? Keeping track of his victims, making sure no one else can take the limelight for these girls.” You state. “I mean, he knows he isn’t going to get caught by the girls. Based on Caroline, she could barely move let alone tell anyone who did this.”

“I’ve seen countless bodies from suicide by jumping from buildings. It’s a rarity if you survived such a fall like this.” The diener tells you. “Clearly they knew what they were doing.”

“Contrary to popular belief, when the body falls from a height their head does not splatter onto the ground. Their bones will break and splay out, but if you were to fall from say a 48 feet building you’re most likely to live with a 50% chance of surviving.” Spencer explains, and you nod along.

“But our unsub picks tall buildings. Office blocks, malls, parking lots.” You tell Spencer who hums. “He knows they’re not going to survive the fall.”

“Yes, but statistically,” Spencer begins, but your phone begins to ring cutting him off.

“Sorry, Spence.” You tell him with an apologetic smile before moving out from the morgue, taking the phone call. “Yeah?”

“Ah, my sweet angel. Have you found Cupid’s arrow yet?” Penelope chuckles, causing you to roll your eyes. “How’s the case going? No one’s called to update me on the gruesome details.”

You sigh quietly. “Honestly, Pen, you’re lucky.” You tell her. “And what’d you mean by Cupid’s arrow?”

Penelope groans loudly through the phone, and you can hear her head hitting the keyboard before she apologises to it. “Y/n, how are you so pretty yet oblivious to the attraction of one Spencer Reid?”

“I, what?” You stumble over your words as you look over your shoulder to see Spencer staring back at you with a small smile on his lips as he waves to you. “I, he, Spencer? No,” You scoff, trying to think about anything else to reduce the spike in your heart rate.

“I’m no profiler, but I know things,” Penelope states.

“You’ve got it all wrong, Pen. Sorry to disappoint you, but there is no way he could ever like-”

“Y/n?” Spencer calls out, now standing in the doorway in front of you. “Hotch wants us to meet him, has a potential lead.”

“Sorry P, I gotta go.” You tell Penelope before she has the chance to say anything else and hang up the phone.

Walking alongside Spencer, you can’t help but notice how close he is to you. For someone who is a bit of a germaphobe, he’ll always sit with you before anyone else. During a flight last month with bad turbulence, he held your hand in his as you began to fall asleep, resting your head on his shoulder. You woke up concerned he’d mind, but Spencer just smiled and offered his shoulder any time.

“So, what’s the lead?” You ask as you walk into the police precinct, finding the rest of your team in a small room as boards with pictures have already been set up.

“I’ve checked with Garcia about the possibility that whoever is doing this must have some form of access to each of these buildings. There has to be something tying them together,” Prentiss begins.

“Like a cleaning company, or security?” JJ suggests.

Emily nods before grabbing a file and reading directly from it. “SecureO is a security company based all over Atlanta. They have hundreds of security guards working at various office blocks, department stores, parking lots. You name it, they’ve got people there.”

“And our unsub works for them?” You question, looking at the file to see the hundreds of names. “How are we supposed to find him?”

Hotch reaches out to call Garcia. “And here I thought you forgot about me.” Penelope states through the line, and Morgan smiles to himself.

“Garcia, can you take a look at the employee records for SecureO and crosscheck to see if any of them have criminal records.” Hotch asks as you listen intently to Penelope typing away.

“Okay, fifty-seven members of staff have criminal records.” Penelope states.

“How about any with troubled pasts? Maybe this guy is using these women as a form of release. He’s not sexually assaulting them, so it’s less likely to be about an ex, maybe it’s more personal.” You suggest, and Spencer scans through the file once again before looking back at the victims on the board.

“You, my pretty might be onto something,” Garcia chirps. “right, there are twelve members of staff who grew up in the foster system. I’m sending their details over to you right as we speak.”

“Wait, Penelope,” Spencer calls out and Hotch raises his head. “how many of those twelve lost family? Basing on their age and strength, he must be at least in his late twenties or early thirties. Try looking up any accidents in the state in the late eighties to early nineties.”

“Thinking he might have never left the state?” Morgan questions, his arms crossed over his chest.

Clearing his throat, Spencer stands taller beside you as you glance up at him with a reassuring smile. “Looking at all these women, they’re all young and pretty. Anyone who grew up in the system is less likely to leave the place they’re comfortable in. If our unsub grew up in Georgia, he would’ve stayed here and have gotten a job at eighteen. SecureO has been around for twelve years, and five of these employees have been around since it began.”

“Okay, I’ll send across anything once I’ve found it.” Penelope speaks up and hangs up the phone.

“Good work, Reid. Let’s go deliver the profile.” Hotch nods as he leads the way out of the room, Rossi patting Spencer’s shoulder as he departs.

“Not too shabby, Doctor.” You nudge Spencer playfully and he softly chuckles as you walk out.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Y/n.” He mutters under his breath as you walk out of earshot.

Entering the station the next morning, you looked around as solemn expressions greeted you.

“What’s happened?” You ask, taking a seat beside Spencer who notions to JJ.

“Another victim was found in the early hours of this morning. Amelie Hartnell, twenty, was discovered on top of a dumpster in a back alley below a seven-story abandoned office building.” JJ passes over the file to you as you flick through the images whilst you hold your breath.

“She was only twenty,” You mutter to yourself, unaware of Spencer eyeing you carefully. “there’s something about the carving on her, it isn’t as deep. You can see it’s a lot shallower than the others.” You explain.

“He was in a rush this time.” Morgan states. “But if it was an abandoned building, who was going to see him?”

“I’m not sure,” Hotch mutters. “call Garcia, see if she’s found anything yet about those five employees.”

“On it. Baby girl,” Morgan comments before exiting the room.

“You seem tired, Y/n.” Rossi speaks up, and you lift your head up to see the concern in his eyes. “Is something bothering you?”

Shaking your head, you dismiss the matter as the team look over at you. “I’m fine, just thinking about a few things. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” You tell him, but Spencer can tell there’s something else underlying you’re not saying. “Excuse me, I just need some air.” You mutter before exiting the precinct.

Watching you walk away, Spencer sighs. “Well, go follow her,” Rossi motions to Spencer who quickly gets up and exits the room. “these kids, I swear.” He mutters to himself once Spencer is out of sight.

As you walk out, you take a deep breath, clearing your thoughts. “Y/n,” Spencer calls out and you turn around, forcing a smile. “something’s clearly bothering you.” He states as you move away to sit on a bench whilst Spencer hovers beside you.

“When I was growing up, I had a friend, Sylvia,” You start, and Spencer watches as you brush your hands over your pants once more. “she moved to Savannah and we just grew apart, but I’ll never forget her brother, Killian.”

Spencer sits down beside you, your leg touching his as he reaches out and takes your hand. “Y/n, what was it about Killian?” He questions quietly.

“He was always there, just watching us.” You mumble, remembering those bright blue eyes always in the background, never leaving you or Sylvia. “But, their parents, they died in a car crash when Sylvia was thirteen, Killian was fourteen.” You begin to explain as you exhale a shaky breath.

Squeezing Spencer’s hand, he shushes you. “It’s okay, just, take it one memory at a time.” He reassures you as your eyes remain tightly shut.

“From what I know, Sylvia couldn’t take it, losing her parents,” You swallow the lump in your throat as you open your eyes, focusing on Spencer’s. “she killed herself, by jumping off of the roof of a mall.”

“Just like the first victim.” Spencer mutters as he quickly stands up. “We gotta tell Hotch.”

“Why didn’t you mention this sooner, Y/n?” Hotch stressed as he frowns at you, but Spencer remains by your side as you keep your focus on the team, eyeing the photos behind Emily.

“I suppressed a lot of memories from when I was growing up, I forgot all about Killian and Sylvia, but seeing these photos it just made me think back to it all.” You explain, looking around at all of your team. “I’m sorry for holding back.” You apologise, and JJ smiles as she walks over, hugging you lightly.

“Garcia, can you look up Killian and Sylvia Atwork?” You speak up into the phone and Penelope begins to type rapidly before pausing.

“Oh my god,” She mutters. “Killian has been working at SecureO for ten years. He was employed when he turned eighteen and is in charge of the security footage for various locations.”

Hotch rises to his feet. “We have to inform the police department and the news outlets, JJ, can you sort a press conference?”

“I’m on it.” JJ states as she begins to call her contacts, taking the call in another room.

“Y/n, we might’ve just had a break in the case because of you, thank you.” Hotch comments and Rossi gives you a subtle thumbs up. “Garcia, I need you to look at any other buildings that SecureO are in charge of the security systems, see if our unsub is heading to any of these next. If we’re lucky, we’ve got enough time to stop him killing again.”

“Will do, Sir.” Penelope calls out from the phone.

“You think we’ll get him in time?” You speak up, fiddling with the hem of your cardigan.

“Hopefully.” Hotch sighs and JJ walks back in.

“Ready when you are, Hotch.”

* The plan was simple, and it should’ve been effective. All of you were teamed off into pairs. Prentiss and Morgan, JJ and Rossi, Hotch and the chief of police whilst you went with Reid.

“I’m proud of you, Y/n.” Spencer mutters as you sit beside him in the car on route to the office block about ten minutes west of the station. “Without you, we might not have gotten to this point.”

Spencer can’t help but feel warm inside as you smile up at him. “You think so?”

“I know for a fact.” He states as his hand reaches out to yours as he pulls up to the building. “Just keep an eye out, and don’t do anything stupid.”

“Again.” You add as you close the car door, securing your vest on as the pair of you begin to head up to the roof of the building, you leading the way.

“Any sign, Y//L/N?” Hotch asks through your earpiece.

Looking around, you keep your gun extended in front of you as you quietly open the door to the roof. “Negative.” You state, turning the corner as you continue to search the place whilst Spencer is still coming up the stairs.

“Reid, my dead grandmother could’ve gotten up those stairs faster than you.” You joke playfully as he comes into sight, the sun beginning to set behind you illuminating his hazel eyes as they widen.

“Y/n!” Spencer yells, but you’re too slow to react as an arm is tightly holding your neck whilst a knife is being pressed against your back beneath the vest.

“Long time no see, huh, Y/n?” Killian mutters into your ear as he begins to drag you back as you sight against him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, this can end one of two ways, I prefer to keep this clean.”

“We need back up and medics at 1238 Meadow Lane, I repeat, we need backup. Killian is here, he, he has Y/n.” Saying that through the comms immediately causes his heart to sink as tears fill your eyes.

“We’re coming now,” Hotch announces, and you can hear the sound of sirens across the city as Killian drags you toward the edge of the roof with you in front of him.

“Spence,” You focus on Spencer’s face as his gun remains out, directed at Killian’s head. “what are the statistics of surviving this?” You ask him as a tear falls down your cheek.

“Y/n,” Spencer starts, but you shake your head as you fight against Killian, taking shallow breaths as he continues to apply pressure to your windpipe.

“Please,” You breathe out as Killian chuckles against you. “I need to know.”

The truth of the matter is you know your odds of making it out alive are slim to none, but you wanted to hear Spencer ramble one last time.

“From a building like this, a ten-story drop your odds aren’t great, in fact, falls from ten-story buildings have a 90% chance of death.” He explains, his gun now shaking in his hand as he pictures you on the ground below, bleeding out. “Those, those who survive can be paralysed if they land on their backs, permanent brain damage from skull fractures or,” Spencer stops himself as Killian focuses on him.

“Do finish Doctor Reid, I’m enjoying this.” Killian states, and you shudder at the fact he’s finding this entertaining.

“In cases like Sylvia, she survived but was left to bleed out.” Spencer finishes, and your eyes widen. “You see, Sylvia wasn’t suicidal like we thought. She was just in the wrong place, wasn’t she, Killian?” Spencer steps closer, but you wince as you can feel the knife starting to pierce your skin.

“No, Sylvia killed herself. I, I saw it.” Killian yells, tightening his grip around your neck as your hands lie limply by your sides. “I would never hurt her.”

“Not intentionally,” Spencer comments. “you were playing, and you knocked her, didn’t you?”

Killian shakes his head. “No! She jumped!” You can feel his heart beating against you. “She jumped and never said goodbye, she left me all alone.” He cries out.

“Killian, I’m sorry.” You manage to say. “It wasn’t your, your fault.”

“She left me here.” He spits at you. “Everyone else moved on, but I was left with the guilt.”

“There’s always another way, Killian.” You speak softly, focusing on Spencer. “But if this is it,” You start, but Spencer shakes his head. “Spencer, I’m so sorry.” You let your tears fall freely down your cheeks as Spencer steps closer.

“Y/n, don’t do this.” Spencer tells you.

“I love you Spence, but please, please be strong for me.” You can feel yourself beginning to slip out of consciousness as Killian continues to apply more pressure around your neck.

“There’s another way out, Killian. I promise you, just let Y/n go.” Spencer is yelling at the top of his lungs as Killian simply laughs.

“You think there’s another option? You sure you’re a Doctor, kid?” Killian scoffs.

“It’ll be okay, Spence,” You fight against the unsubs hold as his arm remains pressed against your neck. “just, don’t give up.”

The unsub scoffs as you wince at he breathes into your ear. “This ends with you.”

Closing your eyes, you embrace the feeling as Killian falls backwards, taking you with him.

“NO!” Spencer screams, running over as Killian lets go of you at the last second.

Spencer grabs a hold of your hand, but within a split second, it slips. “Spence,” You cry out as you hang on to the ledge of the building with all your might.

The sound of Killian hitting the floor only worsens your fear as Spencer begins to pull you up. All you can hear is the sound of your heart in your ears as the sirens dull behind you whilst Spencer is yelling in front of you, yet you can’t hear any of it.

“Come on, Y/n, stay with me!” Spencer screams as another pair of hands appear by his side.

“Come on, we’ve got you.” Hotch states, pulling you up with Spencer and away from the ledge.

Immediately you fall into Spencer’s arms, your hands gripping his arms as you sob into his chest. “It’s okay, I’m not letting go.” Spencer holds you tightly as he looks up at Hotch, his expression saying more than words can.

“We need a medic!” Hotch yells as three men appear, checking over you as you remain sat with Spencer on the roof, far away from the ledge.

“You’re okay,” Spencer tells you as you go quiet, going into shock as the medics help you out from the building and into the ambulance as your team stands by.

“Oh thank god.” JJ blurts out as Spencer exits the building, enveloping him into a tight hug. “Are you alright?” She checks as she pulls away, but Spencer can’t help himself as he focuses on you in the back of the ambulance, wrapped in foil as the medics check you over.

JJ follows Spencer’s gaze and can’t help but force back her smile.

“Go on, you should be with her.” She assures him, but Spencer pauses.

“Y/n told me she loves me.” Spencer quietly tells JJ who quirks an eyebrow. “You, you knew didn’t you?”

JJ chuckles under her breath. “Spence, we all knew. But she doesn’t know you love her too, does she?”

Spencer shakes his head as he glances back over to you, seeing you being given the all-clear as you begin to rise to your feet.

Immediately, Spencer darts over to help you, his hand resting on your waist as you look up at him. “Spence, I,” You stumble over your words, watching as Killian’s body is being transported away in the body bag.

“Hey, don’t focus on that,” Spencer rests his hand on your cheek. “you’re alive, and I guess you beat the statistic.” He states, listening as you laugh lightly.

“Probably because I didn’t fall.” You add.

“But you almost did, and, and I would never have had the chance to tell you this,” Spencer tells you.

“Tell me what?” You ask, looking up at him with hesitation.

Spencer opens his mouth and after exactly three years, two months and nine days of knowing you and falling in love with you, he cannot find the right words to string together. “In the English language. there are 171,476 words. I’ve only ever needed three of them to tell you how I feel, but I can’t even do that properly.” He laughs uneasily as he focuses on you.

Lifting your hand up, you rest it on the back of his neck as you rise to your tiptoes. “Is this okay?” You whisper.

“More than okay,” Spencer responds before his lips are on yours.

You can hear Rossi cheering in the background as Hotch tries to shush them all but secretly is proud of you both. Having seen the way you gripped Spencer’s shirt when he saved you on that roof, he knew it was about time something would finally happen.

Pulling away from the kiss, you laugh lightly. “I take it the feeling is reciprocated then?” You question, and Spencer smiles.

“I’m never letting you go again.” He mumbles into you as you rest your head against his chest, hoping that promise will remain intact.

#okay so it was v long #but i really hope you enjoyed it!#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid au #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine

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mrpenguinpants · 3 years

Text

Razor: Pre-Relationship HCs

THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON [if you’re still here haha]!! Razor is best boy! I can’t pet the dogs but I can pet Razor so therefore he is the best boy. I take no criticism and I’m taking it to my grave.

I’m just gonna make this part my appreciation post and @snowy224 I don’t understand why tumblr won’t let me @ you but you are such a real one it’s kind of insane. I’m almost scared actually but know that no matter how bad I’m feeling or how much I want to throw my fics into the garbage it’s always nice seeing you pop up 💕💕

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Semi Part 1: General HCs

Semi Part 3: Cuddle HCs

Semi Part 4: Jealous HCs

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @snowy224 @youaskedfurret @childelover @xoneaboveallx @akaasea @stanzastic

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Razor: Pre-Relationship HCs

You had first met the wolf boy when you had been attacked by a Mitachurl when you were collecting wolfhooks. He had jumped out of the bushes and saved you and ever since then you made sure to visit Wolvendom any chance you could get. Just to meet with the mysterious man and thank him somehow. It then developed into having friendly competitions in hunting and familiarizing yourself with how Razor’s life was and who he was as a person. It made you feel like a kid again, running around, getting mud on your clothes, and sleeping outside under the stars. You almost forgot how pretty the sky could be sometimes.

It took a bit of time to get used to Razor’s affectionate nature and trying to reason that Razor had only known wolves his entire life, so there wasn’t anything deeper to when he wanted to hold your hand or nuzzle your cheek. It still made you flush pink since you never experienced this before but it was kind of nice. It felt comfortable to simply hold you hand out, wait for Razor to see you, perk up, walk over, and place his chin in the palm of your hand. The cute but sweet act always made you give a small giggle as you petted him and he nuzzled into your palm.

That was until you started developing feelings for him. It just hit you one day when you saw Razor laugh so hard he was almost crying when you accidently slipped on some mud. He was usually pretty quiet and the only loud noises he made were howls with his lucipals. You stared at him for a couple of seconds before you caught yourself and laughed along with him. On your walk back home you kept thinking back to how happy Razor looked and proceeded to scream into your hands. You were starting to crush on someone who may not even know what a crush was.

Now, every time he initiated some type of affection it sent your heart rate skyrocketing until you thought you would combust. You could feel the heat starting to overtake your cheeks and you went stiff in his hold whenever he wanted to snuggle together. Your different reactions only made Razor confused and it made him think you were sick or there was some type of danger nearby, which only prompted him to go into protect mode and made cupid himself take an axe and cleave your heart in half.

Razor’s world is a simple one and yet that’s what makes it so complicated. At first he wanted to hold your hand because it was soft but now whenever he holds it his heart starts beating faster. When you both fall asleep under the stars he always stays awake a bit longer. Both to make sure you’re both not in danger but to also gaze at your features. After spending so much time together he started to feel weird. Whenever you had to go back home he wanted you to stay a bit longer and felt something tugging at his heart. Telling him to go after you but he was still nervous about the big city.

So when you seemed to be shying away from his usual touches Razor couldn’t help but feel that he must have done something wrong. Did he accidently hurt you? Was there another custom in Mondstadt that he wasn’t aware of? It made him feel sad that you didn’t seem to want to spend time with him.

While you couldn’t sense the mood in the wind, it didn’t take a genius to realize that Razor seemed to be upset about something. His hair that you had at first mistaken as a wolf ear was turned down, his red eyes were sadden, and he looked like a kicked puppy or wolf in this case. It hurt your heart to see your friend so sadden so you quickly rushed over to where he was, dropping the things you had brought so you both could go out adventuring, to make sure he was okay.

“Razor? Are you alright? Did something happen? Are you hurt?” you quickly scrambled towards him and giving him a fast once-over to make sure he wasn’t bleeding anywhere. He only looked up at you with those same sadden eyes and you swore that you would protect his man with everything you had.

“Do you...not like Razor?” Razor pouted up at you as he seemed to shuffle away from you. Not like him? Where did this come from? You slowly kneeled beside him frowning slightly as you reached over to pet him. He didn’t seem to shy away from your touch, in fact he almost seemed desperate for it.

“What? Of course not Razor. Where did you get that idea?” you softly scratched behind his ear as you tried to remember if anyone in the city of freedom mention anything about a wolf boy or that they were heading to Wolvendom that might have upset Razor.

“You. Don’t like being near me,” Razor confessed as he leaned harder into your touch, “This. Don’t do anymore”

You suddenly dawned on you that he was right. You had been so focused on getting your feelings under control that it did seem like you wanted to scramble out of his hold. But it wasn’t because you didn’t like Razor. It was definitely the complete opposite but it came off wrong. You were mentally kicking yourself for your mess up as you slowly reached over to hold his hands. Something to keep both you and him stable.

“Oh, um...” You laughed awkwardly to yourself, “It’s not like that Razor. Um, how do I explain this..”

You pondered to yourself and what the best and easiest way to explain that you really really wanted to hold his hand in a romantical sense. You wanted to be more than lucipals? That..didn’t seem right. Razor’s world was simple so the best way would be to say things simply.

“You see Razor, whenever we’re together I get this feeling here,” you pressed his palm over your heart so he could feel how fast your heart was racing, “that means that I like you. A lot. So much that when you want to um, hold hands, it makes my heart go so fast that I need a minute to let it calm down. It’s not because I hate you, I don’t think I ever could. I just like you so much that I need a second. If that makes sense...”

“Razor has that too!” Razor suddenly exclaimed as he proceeded to tackle you in his excitement as he took your own hand and placed it over his heart. You could feel his own heart rate racing at the same pace as yours.

“Ah- I’m glad?” you stuttered as Razor peered down at you grinning.

“So you won’t leave Razor?” Razor asked as you sighed amused.

“Never.” You agreed as you watched Razor light up brighter than any star in the sky. Razor grinned down at you and you swore you could see a small wolf tail wagging. What have you gotten yourself into? You might need to check in with Barbara soon to make sure your heart wouldn’t collapse anytime soon.

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Okay. One more Xiao fic and I’m going to take a powernap, I’m so tired. I’m sorry Venti I will write you tmr. I think 3 posts a day is my limit so hopefully I can get to everyone in time. I’m about to go wake up, play alien isolation with friends, and scare the life out of me. Wish me luck!

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breakyeol · 3 years

Text

— WHAT HE LOST

So you got dumped. It sucks, but hey, at least you’ve got your best friends who always seem know exactly what to do to help make you feel better.

┗ Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader x Baekhyun

Genre: friends to lovers au, angst, fluff, smut

Words: 12.8k (I wish I was kidding)

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, drinking, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of cheating, explicit sexual content ; dom(?)baekhyun, switch sub!chanyeol, switch!reader, their roles ended up being very blurred, you’re the bologna in a chanbaek sandwich, threesome, very mild dirty talk, teasing, oral (f. & m. receiving), gentle throat fucking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, squirting, yeol just wants to be a good boy but baek just wants to break the headboard

A/N; the poll I did for this fanfic was so fun!!! I seriously love interacted with you guys and receiving your feedback! I definitely think it’s something I’d like to do again in the future! I hope you guys enjoy the results! PS, I low key suck at writing endings sorry loves.

It’s half past two when you show up in front of their door, clothes soaked and heavy from the rain you hadn’t bothered to shield yourself from, heart bruised and aching from the ruthless beat down it had been forced to endure. It’s been a really long night.

Chanyeol is the one to finally open the door, face flushed and swollen, pink lips dry and pouted, dark hair unruly and disheveled with a ridiculous cowlick you would find incredibly amusing if not for the crushing weight of the night’s previous events still weighing heavily on your chest.

“Y/n?” He rasps, blinking hard twice, as if he hadn’t recognized you at first. You wouldn’t hold it against him, you probably look like a drowned rat in your current state.

A shaky grin pulls at your lips, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Hey, Yeol.”

His brows furrow and he swipes a large hand down the length of his face. “What time is it? What– what are you doing here?” There’s no malice in the question, only drowsy confusion as he tries to put the puzzle pieces together in his sleep hazed mind.

Instead of answering, you tip your chin forward and ask one of your own. “Mind if I come in? It feels like my fingers are about to fall off.”

All of a sudden his eyes pop open real wide and he gasps, as if just then realizing that you were standing outside his door in the freezing night air, drenched to the bone. He immediately ushers you inside, appearing genuinely distraught. “Jesus, you’re soaked. Did you walk here or something?”

Combing your wet hair out of your face, you offer a blunt nod of confirmation. “Yup.”

His jaw drops and he splutters in disbelief. “You walked here? In the pouring rain? Are you insane?! It’s the middle of the night! Something terrible could have happened to you! And you’re not even wearing a coat!” He gestures wildly at your waterlogged t-shirt and jeans, all drowsiness gone from his eyes.

“I’m fine, Chanyeol.” You sigh, moving past him and into the warmth of his apartment.

“Y/n, that really wasn’t smart. You should’ve called me.” He insists in that disapproving tone that reminds you of a parent scolding a petulant child.

You turn to him with raised brows, the vague outline of amusement tinging your words, “Would you have woken up?”

“You should’ve called until I did,” he shoots back without missing a beat, following close on your heel as you make your way into the living room and fall onto the couch with a soft grunt, “or you could’ve tried Baekhyun. Or literally done anything other than walk all the way here in the middle of the night in the pouring rain.”

He’s right, of course. It was dangerous walking alone at night, no matter how tough you think you are, bad things can happen to anyone. But the danger of walking the streets at night hadn’t been so much as a second thought when you left. There were far more prominent concerns plaguing your mind.

“Yeah, well.”

A beat of silence passes, and you feel the shift in Chanyeol’s gaze. You don’t dare to look over as he sinks into the space on the couch beside you, though all you really want is to lean into the comforting warmth of his body.

“Hey... are you alright?”

A painful lump forms in your throat at the question. “I—” you wince as your voice cracks, words falling dead on the tip of your tongue. Fuck. Why was it so hard to say?

“Y/n?”

The way he says your name nearly shatters the dam, and you just barely manage to pull yourself together enough to avoid turning into a sobbing mess on his couch. Snagging your lower lip roughly between your teeth, you offer a weak hum that pitches strangely in your throat– which most definitely does not go unnoticed by the boy who knows you too well for your own good.

Chanyeol’s concerned eyes sweep over your expression, those damn eyes that can see right through any mask you attempt to wear, before he speaks again in a voice so soft you could feel the steely grip around your heart ease. “Let me get you something dry to wear. Then we can make some hot cocoa and you can tell me what happened, okay?”

The idea of being dry and warm again was more than appealing enough for you to force the corners of your lips upward and manage a light nod of agreement. “Yeah.”

He shoots you a sweet smile, reaching over with a large hand to affectionately ruffle your wet hair and pushing himself off of the couch before you can retaliate. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move, I don’t need you and all your drippiness flooding the apartment. I’m pretty sure you’ve already ruined our new couch.” He teases lightheartedly, that familiar bubbling laughter erupting from his lips as you swing your middle finger up at him.

You feel yourself deflate somewhat when he vanishes into his bedroom, leaving you alone once more. It was unusually quiet. Though understandable given the time, you aren’t used to the silence of the apartment and find yourself craving Chanyeol’s booming voice and Baekhyun’s obnoxious teasing. Without them, there’s nothing to distract your scrambled mind, and you can’t stop it from lingering on the frustration and sense of betrayal that torments your heart. Squeezing your eyes shut, you sink into the plush cushions, a soft groan escaping your tensed lips.

This. Sucks.

Luckily, you aren’t alone long enough to dwell on it too deeply.

Your head snaps up at the sound of a door thudding shut, a murmur of gratitude on the tip of your tongue, but you are surprised to see a very much still half asleep Baekhyun come stumbling into the living room, donning a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tight white t-shirt that hugs the gentle swells of his chest. His eyes are barely open as he all but throws himself onto the couch, immediately curling up into your side. You only chuckle, nuzzling your nose into his cinnamon scented hair and petting down his unruly bed head as it tickles your chin.

“You’re wet.” Is the first thing he murmurs into the silence, voice thick and hoarse in his throat. You can’t suppress the shiver that ripples down the length of your spine as his warm breath washes over your icy skin, the sharp contrast in temperature startling to your senses.

“I didn’t notice.” You hum, resting your cheek against the top of his head.

“And cold.” He grumbles additionally, arms coiling tightly around the curve of your waist and tugging you flush against him. The heat of his body is more than welcome, and you’re happy to allow him to cuddle into you. It’s easy to find comfort in his familiar embrace.

“Chanyeol is getting me something else to wear.”

His head tips back at that, and you have to draw away to keep your noses from colliding. Hooded eyes drag slowly over your face, warm and searching. You swallow nervously under the intensity of his scrutinizing gaze and quickly turn away, hoping he hadn’t seen the tell tale signs of your internal turmoil. But it seems both of your best friends are more observant than you give them credit for.

You jolt in surprise as he suddenly grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to face him again. The unexpected proximity has warmth rushing into your cheeks, and you clear your throat, eyes looking anywhere but his face. Nonetheless he still manages to read you like the pages of a children’s book.

“You’ve been crying.”

Instinctively, you try to put some distance between you and him, swatting his hand away and plastering an unconvincing scowl across your face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His lips part, and you brace yourself, knowing by the look on his face alone that he’s going to push the matter.

“Ah, Baekhyun, you’re awake.” You let out a breath of relief as Chanyeol steps out of his room, a set of black sweats and a towel draped over his arm. Perfect timing. Baekhyun nearly topples over as you jump up from the couch, quickly making your way over to where the younger boy stands. “Y/n, I got y—”

“Thanks, I’ll go change.” You rush out, cutting him off abruptly as you pull the clothes from his arms. You manage a quick smile of gratitude before you’re hurrying past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door more harshly than you intended behind you.

Very subtle, y/n.

“Fuck.” You hiss through clenched teeth, silently cursing yourself out.

Moving towards the sink, you stare at your disheveled reflection in the mirror with a weak grimace. You knew you looked like a mess but damn. You really look like you’ve been put through the wringer tonight. Which, of course, you kind of had been, but still.

It takes longer than you anticipated to wriggle yourself out of your wet clothes, nearly falling on your ass more times than you care to admit out loud in your numerous attempts to peel off your jeans. But in the end, it was more than worth it to feel the soft, warm fabric of Chanyeol’s oversized clothes against your skin. The faded scent of his aftershave eases the tension in your shoulders, but you can’t fight the buzz of nerves that come to life in your stomach as you step back out the door.

The rich, sweet scent of hot chocolate is the first thing to greet you upon your return. Noting the emptiness of the living room, you come to the quick conclusion that they’re both most likely in the kitchen. On quiet feet, you shuffle over to the entrance, peeking your head around the wall. They’re facing away from you, leaning against the island and exchanging whispered words, voices just low enough that you can’t make out what they’re saying. Though, there’s little doubt in your mind that you’re the subject of their heated conversation.

Deciding to make your presence known, you clear your throat and step onto the cool tile. Two heads whip in your direction, startled. The looks on either of their faces makes you think of two children being caught doing something they definitely should not be. Exactly... what had they been talking about?

Chanyeol is the first to move, plucking up the mug from the countertop and making his way over to you. “Extra marshmallows and extra whipped cream with a pinch of cinnamon,” he says, a soft smile on his lips and a warm blush on his cheeks, “just how you like it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, grateful for the warmth of the smooth white ceramic against your palms. “Thanks, yeol.”

“Let’s sit!” Baekhyun exclaims before you can even take a sip, hands finding your shoulders and steering you back towards the couch. You’re too focused on not spilling the contents of your cup to make any sort of objection.

It’s only when squeezed between their two bodies on their slightly too small couch, their concerned but curious eyes burning into the sides of your face, that you begin to wonder if it was the wisest idea to come here. But then remember just how badly you were craving a good hug and sigh, knowing if anyone was gonna give you one, it’d be one of these two dopey boys.

It’s obvious neither of them are going to speak first, probably not wanting to push you incase you weren’t ready to talk about it yet (though, the intensity of their stares were doing just that), so you decide to take the initiative before the awkward tension can get even more unbearable.

“We broke up.”

You bring the mug to your lips, taking a tentative sip of your gradually cooling hot chocolate as you allow them to absorb the new information.

“Well, shit.” Baekhyun coughs. Chanyeol reaches behind you to smack the back of his head, hissing something about being insensitive but you’re already more than aware of how they feel about your boyfriend— ex-boyfriend.

Since you first started talking to him, neither of the boys were his biggest fan. To their credit, they tried their best to be supportive, but it was hard to miss the dampening of the mood whenever you brought him up and the glares they’d shoot in his direction when they thought you weren’t paying attention. You called them out on their passive aggressive behavior on a number of occasions, and they were always quick to defend themselves with the claim of getting ‘bad vibes’.

Looking back, you probably should’ve given their suspicions some deeper consideration.

But you had just liked him so much. It was hard for you to see past the handsome, charming exterior to what really laid beneath. Gilded boys had always been your weakness, always enchanting you with the prettiest of lies only to shatter you with their ugly truths.

You should have known better.

“Are you alright?”

You shrug, sucking your lower lip into your mouth with a heavy exhale from your nose. “I’m fine, really. I’m just... embarrassed, I guess.”

Baekhyun blinks at you in confusion. “Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed? He should be the embarrassed one for losing someone as amazing as you.”

“I’m embarrassed because—” you wince, bracing yourself for the response that you just know you’re about to receive, “because he dumped me.”

“What?!” Chanyeol erupts, nearly making you spill your hot cocoa from the sheer explosiveness of his reaction, “you let that literal piece of walking human trash—!”

“Chanyeol.”

At Baekhyun’s sharp interruption, the emotional younger immediately slumps, guilt painting his face as he looks at you with remorseful eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You only smile, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

“So,” Baekhyun begins cautiously, “what happened?”

No point beating around the bush now. “We were hanging out at his place. I found a pair of underwear that weren’t mine in his bedroom. Confronted him. He called me a clingy bitch and told me to get the fuck out and never come back.” You say this as nonchalantly as you can manage, but your hold on the cup tightens substantially and an unmistakable thickness rises in your throat. You curse yourself silently for feeling like shit over a guy who obviously couldn’t be bothered to give even half a shit about you.

“He cheated on you?” Chanyeol leaps up from the couch, eyes wide and furious. If you were to look close enough, you were almost certain you’d see fire burning within them.

“That fucker.” Baekhyun all but snarls, hands balling into tight fists. “What’s his address?”

“Baekhyun—” you sigh, leaning forward to set your hot chocolate down on the coffee table.

“No, I’m dead serious, what’s his address?” He pins you with a look that tells you he is very much not messing around. They were being ridiculous, angry over things they couldn’t change. It was pointless and harmful to dwell on things that had already happened. You’d much rather pick yourself up and move on than allow yourself to keep hurting over a stupid boy.

Of course, that’s easier said than done. And your best friends are not the types to just let things go. Not when the people they care about are wronged.

Chanyeol seems to be off in his own little world, ranting furiously to himself while cracking his knuckles in a way that is probably meant to be intimidating (though, to you, the giant puppy is anything but). “There’s no way I’m letting a piece of shit like him get away with this. God, I knew he was a scumbag the moment I laid eyes in him. I should’ve—”

“Guys, please.” Your voice cracks when you finally intervene, and that’s all it takes for their immediate anger to fizzle out.

The tension in their shoulders melts, their features softening drastically as they spot the glistening of tears in your eyes despite your feeble attempts to blink them away. In an instant, they’re cuddling back up against you, murmuring soft apologies and pleading for you not to cry over someone like him. But the dam is already broken, and salty tears are swelling up in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks before you can stop them.

Everything you’d been holding back comes bubbling violently towards the surface. Sobs wrack your chest, and you cling onto the hands of either boy as they watch you helplessly.

Chanyeol, the big softie that he is, has to bite his lip to keep the tears threatening to swell in his own eyes at bay. He’s never been good at holding himself together when he sees you hurting. He feels everything with his entire being, his empathy for his friends and the people he cares about on another level. But that big, stupid heart of his is one of the many reasons you adore him.

Baekhyun, on the other hand, is not the most suave when it comes to comforting people. Most of the time he’ll try to crack jokes and make light of the situation, but he knew better than to break out his usual antics when you were in such a state. So he held his tongue, opting to wrap his hand around yours in hopes of comforting you in even the slightest.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” You groan once your sobs subside into sniffles and you feel the warm flush of embarrassment filtering into your cheeks at your own outburst. You really hated crying in front of people. So it wasn’t too often that your friends, or anybody for that matter, saw such a raw display from you. “It’s just so frustrating and humiliating, you know?”

There’s a moment of silence as you wipe the tears from your face with the hand not held in a death grip by Baekhyun. It’s the nice kind of silence though, the kind you don’t have to fill and don’t really want to, encasing the three of you in a little bubble of comfort. Of course, with these two, you can’t expect it to last long.

“If I ever see him again,” Chanyeol huffs, dropping his chin onto your shoulder, “it’s on sight.”

You laugh at that, the sound hoarse and nasally and just plain awful, but genuine nonetheless. Raising a hand, you comb it through his soft black locks in a show of gratitude.

“Baek?” You turn to him with a sniffle. He hums softly in acknowledgement, tracing comforting circles against the top of your hand. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“What? Is my hot cocoa not good enough for you?” He teases light-heartedly and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“It’s delicious. But I was thinking of something… a little stronger.”

A mischievous grin upturns the corners of his lips as he realizes what you’re suggesting. “I’ve got just what you need.”

“You know what, FUCK MEN. They’re all stupid. Who needs ‘em? Not me.”

“Yeah men are assholes!” Baekhyun agrees loudly, thrusting his empty shot glass in the air, before pausing and reconsidering his words. “Wait, I’m a man.”

“You and Yeol are the only exceptions.” You reassure, slapping your hand down on his shoulder. He grins widely at that, satisfied. “But every other man— they can all suck my dick,” you continue your tirade, swinging your hands around animatedly, “they’re all liars and cheats and idiots and I’ve had enough of they’re bullshit to last three lifetimes.”

Chanyeol giggles softly from where he’s situated on the floor between your legs which are draped lazily over either of his broad shoulders, his head resting on your thigh, obviously amused by your tipsy antics.

The first shot went down hard, more bitter than your resentment for your piece of shit ex-boyfriend. The second soothed the ache in your chest and allowed for the tension in your muscles to gradually ebb away. And the third? Well, you opted to take your time sipping on that one, not wanting to completely lose yourself in the intoxicating buzz.

You were never the biggest drinker, but sometimes a few shots of something a little stronger than beer helps take the edge off. Right now seems as good a time as any for some liquid courage.

“You wanna know the worst part?”

However, one of the biggest reasons you erred on the side of caution around alcohol was because you had a tendency to spill things that didn’t necessarily need to be exposed. Especially not to your tipsy best friends at three in the morning when emotions ran high and couldn’t be easily stifled.

“What?” Baekhyun leans closer, eyes wide and burning with curiosity at the sudden somberness of your voice. Chanyeol tilts his head back at the shift in tone, looking up at you through dark lashes.

“In the three years we were together,” the two boys strain their ears as your voice drops into a careful whisper, as if someone other than them was around to hear the secret you hadn’t dared to share with a single soul up until this point, “he only ate me out once.”

For a moment, you think the disbelief that flashes across their faces is because you’ve brought up something of a sexual nature. But that thought is quickly squashed.

“Once? In three years? Is he insane?!”

“Shows what kind of man he really is.” Baekhyun scoffs, clicking his tongue. “Did you go down on him?”

You nod in reluctant confirmation, still sober enough to feel the slightest pinch of shame at your admission.

“That’s not how it works! Sex is about give and take, balance,” Chanyeol enunciates the word carefully, and you can’t help the upward twitch of your lips at the seriousness of his expression and the passion behind his words, “You can’t just receive without giving anything back!”

“He said he didn’t like it. And he only did it that one time because we fought on my birthday two years ago and he felt bad.” You explain, pouting heavily as you recall all the times he refused to go down on you.

Baekhyun blanches, jaw dropping. “You haven’t been eaten out in two years? Oh, baby...” you can feel the empathy rolling off of them in thick waves as they allow the new information to really sink in.

“I know, I know! Please don’t make me think about it anymore.” You whine distraughtly, rubbing your hands roughly down your face as frustration and annoyance bubble up inside of you. “I’m already pent up enough as is. That selfish bastard— he couldn’t even make up for it with his stupid dick either. He was all talk when it came to things like that. He only ever cared about getting himself off. It didn’t matter if I felt good as long as he could get his dick wet. What bullshit! Do you even know how many orgasms I had to fake?!”

Everything you’d kept inside comes exploding out of you in a rush of fiery passion, refusing to remain bottled up for even a moment longer. But of course, the moment it’s out and unable to be taken back, you regret saying anything about it at all. Red hot embarrassment floods your senses and you sink in on yourself, slapping a hand over your offending lips.

Damnit. You really shouldn’t have taken that third shot.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. That was— I shouldn’t have—” you attempt to backtrack, mouth twisted into a grimace.

There’s an exchange of glances that you don’t see, too wrapped up in your own humiliation to notice.

Then, a gentle hand slides over your thigh and you jolt in surprise, head snapping up to find a very serious Baekhyun looking back at you. You’d never seen this kind of expression on his face before. It was different then his usual playful grin or teasing smirk. Darker, somehow... dangerous. Like he was looking right through you and seeing everything you’d kept so carefully bottled up inside. It incites within you a vulnerability you had long forgotten.

“When was the last time you came?”

The question catches you off guard, to say the very least.

“Shit, i-it’s not like I keep track.” You laugh weakly, trying not to focus on the warmth seeping into your lower belly or the proximity of their bodies. But then his fingers are feathering over the curve of your knee and your heart is picking up speed and you’re left wondering at which point this conversation took such a turn.

Between your legs, Chanyeol shifts and your gaze snap down just in time to see him turn to face you fully, something dark and unfamiliar stirring within those big brown eyes. On instinct, you try to close your legs, but the sheer largeness of his body nestled comfortably between them prevents you from doing anything of the sort.

There’s no ignoring the rush of heat that ignites in your core, the closeness too much for your body to process all at once, only fueled by the long neglected desire for some kind of release.

And the fact that all he needed to do was get just a little bit closer—

But those are most definitely not the types of thoughts you should be having about your best friends. No matter how attractive they are. No matter how good Baekhyun’s pretty hand feels, slowly edging it’s way higher and higher up your thigh. No matter how cute the look on Chanyeol’s face is, a searing blush turning his full cheeks a fiery shade of red that easily consumes the entirety of his handsome face.

Fuck. Why was he looking at you like that?

“Y/n…”

Oh god. Why did your name have to sound like that coming from his lips?

Baekhyun’s fingers find your chin, gently coaxing your attention away from the man kneeling before you and back onto him. Your breathing has become shallow and fast, the insufficient amount of oxygen making you feel somewhat lightheaded. But the sensation is not a wholly unwelcome one. Not when his own smooth, liquor stained breath is like ambrosia on your tongue— heavy and rich and dangerously tempting.

“That piece of shit couldn’t make you feel good, could he?”

“No.” You swallow around the word, willing your treacherous eyes away from the entrancing curve of his pink mouth.

“No…” he repeats softly, tracing his thumb lightly over the flesh of your lower lip, “but I can— we can.” He lowers his gaze, tempting yours to follow as he ticks a brow at the younger boy. “… can’t we, Chanyeol?”

“Yes.” Chanyeol breathes without a moment’s hesitation, nuzzling his nose against the inside of your knee, warm fingertips teasing the cool skin of your ankles before he’s quickly amending, “if it’s what you want.”

Baekhyun’s lips feather over the shell of your burning ear and you feel consumed.

“Do you want it?”

“This is crazy.” It’s a deliberate avoidance of the question and you both know it.

He cocks his head, the corner of his lip curling into a teasing little grin that makes you feel like he can read your mind. “Is it?”

Yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue. But you would be a dirty, filthy liar if you said it had never crossed your mind.

The thought of you and them.

Usually one... sometimes both.

But those had just been fleeting fantasies when nothing else could satiate the unrelenting heat in your belly, shameful fantasies that, for the most part, you kept locked up tight in the furthest corner of your mind and only let out at the darkest hour of the night, when the midnight winds carried away the trembling breaths of their names, a whispered secret shared only between you and the moon. Only then would you dare to bask in their phantom caresses, allow your mind to conjure up images of their faces, twisted in beautiful bliss.

It was a dangerous game you played, but god, it felt too good to be wrong.

Or maybe that was just you trying to rationalize getting off to the thought of your best friends.

After a few moments of you grappling for the right words, Baekhyun tentatively intervenes with the thick, tension-filled silence that had encased the space around you. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. No pressure from us, sweetheart. I understand two at once can be a bit... intimidating.”

Though he started out in a tone that suggested reassurance and understanding, that last phrase, donning an underlying pitch of provocation, gives you pause.

“Are you suggesting you don’t think I could handle the two of you?” There’s a low scoff to your words, a spark of competitiveness that only Byun Baekhyun himself could draw out of you igniting in your stomach.

He smiles at you innocently, walking two fingers up the length of your thigh. “Not at all.” Something about the glint in his eye tells you that that is exactly what he was suggesting.

A light pout touches your lips and you lower your gaze to the man on the floor. “Chanyeol?”

You don’t need to elaborate for him to understand what you’re asking, that familiar boyish grin curling across his face as he props his chin on top of your knee.

“I think you could handle me just fine.”

A shiver ricochets down your spine at the divine way the words drip from his lips, thick and honey like, sensual in their suggestive nature. You hold his burning stare for a few moments longer than you probably should have, feeling yourself slowly being devoured by the dark, ravenous hunger that swirls within it. This was a fire you were not accustomed to seeing ablaze in Chanyeol. You were used to the fire of his competitiveness, the searing flame of his imperishable passion.

But this— this was something new all together.

If you were to touch him, you wonder if you would be able to feel the savage heat of it against your fingertips.

At your sides, your hands itch to find out. But a gentle tug at the string of your- er, Chanyeol’s sweatpants pulls your mind away from that specific thought. You can’t help the shaky gasp that catches in your throat at the sight of Baekhyun’s hands hovering dangerously close to your heat. You can only watch, melting into a puddle of pure need as he twirls the string nonchalantly around his beautiful fingers, slipping his two middle digits into one of the loops and proceeding to curl them in a way that made your mind jump to highly inappropriate possibilities.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

His teeth graze the shell of your ear and the wetness forming between your thighs increases tenfold as the smooth tenor of his voice thrums through your skull.

“I’d love for you to prove me wrong.”

You’re not sure who leaned in first. But the next thing you know, your lips are on his. There’s no time to dwell on the fact that you’re kissing your best friend, your mind rapidly growing hazy from the unexpected intensity. There’s a certain viciousness in his ministrations, a brutality to his lust that he breathes into your lungs and sends blazing through your veins. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

You can’t help the surprised moan that escapes you when he takes your tongue between his lips and sucks, a low content hum reverberating through his chest before he releases you with a lewd ‘pop’.

“Fuck,” he groans languidly, “You taste like chocolate, baby.”

Calloused hands are curling around your jaw before you can fully recuperate, drawing your attention away from Baekhyun just in time to see Chanyeol’s rapidly approaching face. His dark eyes are hooded and wanting, the faintest of pouts residing on his red-bitten mouth as he breathes in an almost whining tone, “I wanna taste.”

You can think of no reason to object.

His lips slip over yours with a gentleness that is almost staggering. Despite his impatience, there’s an underlying hesitance to his motions, an uncertainty that gives you the feeling that… he’s waiting for you to take the lead. And you do such with fervor.

Raising a hand, you slip gentle fingers up the length of his throat and give an experimental squeeze, not hard enough to do anything other than apply a bit of pressure, but just enough to get your message across.

I’m in charge.

The delighted moan he produces in response makes your lips curl devilishly.

But you’re not given the opportunity to relish in the hot rush of power long, a second pair of lips attaching to your throat making you waver. A hot tongue laves over your collarbone, followed by the sharp pressure of teeth and your jaw goes slack.

Did Baekhyun just bite you?

And… why didn’t you hate it?

Chanyeol takes your open mouth as an invitation, smoothly tilting his head and deepening the kiss. Fuck. He tastes like cinnamon and liquor, a combination you had no idea could be so addictive.

Mind dazed and sufficiently distracted, you don’t notice the hand slipping beneath the fabric of your sweats until a shock of pleasure bolts up your spine. You gasp, breaking the kiss as your eyes drop in order to see which of the two boys is the culprit. Baekhyun lets out a low groan, feathering gentle touches over the soaking fabric of your underwear.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby.” He growls dangerously in your ear. “We’ve barely even started. Are you already that excited?”

You shudder involuntarily, only managing a hoarse moan when he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit. He chuckles tauntingly, as if you’ve just proved his point, but you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed with the way his skilled fingers are stroking your clothed heat.

The heaviness of Chanyeol’s gaze boring into you, devouring every detail of your blissed expression, only serves in making the sensations all the more intense. You attempt to grind yourself down into Baekhyun’s touch, seeking more friction, only to whimper in dismay as he withdraws completely, leaving you cold, unsatisfied, and aching for more.

“Baekhyun—”

“Take them off.” The abruptness of the command has your breath catching in your throat and a telling warmth fluttering through your core. You weren’t accustomed to hearing Baekhyun’s voice like this, so different from his usually light hearted teasing and playful jibes that it throws you for a moment. He cocks a brow amid your stunned silence, licking over the seam of his lip. “What? You need help?”

Snapping yourself out of it, you swing your gaze over to Chanyeol, offering him a cheeky, lopsided grin. “Can’t say I’d mind it.”

“I’m happy to lend a hand.” He hums, shooting you a playful wink that has a wide smile breaking across your face. He makes quick work of your borrowed sweats, easily tugging the loose fabric down the length of your legs and casting it aside carelessly. You watch the way his eyes flit greedily over the expense of your bare thighs, relishing the low, strained groan that flutters from his gaping lips when his attention fixes on the thin, black, lacy material that separates him from your soaking pussy.

“Those, too,” you instruct softly, sinking your teeth into the inside of your cheek. He swallows, and goes to reach for them, only to draw back abruptly when you swat his hands away with a sound of disapproval, “uh-uh. Do it with your teeth.”

Chanyeol’s breath hitches, a severe blush rushing into his cheeks.

Beside you, Baekhyun grins wildly. “That’s my girl.”

You smirk to yourself at the praise, but don’t remove your eyes from Chanyeol’s for a single moment, absolutely loving the pretty shade of red his handsome face has taken on.

Slowly, he dips his head, not daring to break your gaze as he latches his teeth onto the thin black lace on your underwear and begins to drag them down the length of your legs. Goosebumps erupt across your skin, soothed by the press of his hot palms as they trail his descent down your thighs, over the curves of your knees, down your calves, until you are left bare and exposed before them.

Fuck. That was so hot.

“Cute, isn’t he?” Baekhyun hums playfully against your jaw, like the whisper of the devil in your ear. You let out a trembling breath as the younger boy presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, nodding with an airy sigh of ‘ so cute’. Baekhyun nips at the juncture of your throat, and you can only watch with bated breath as he reaches a hand between your thigh, dragging his long middle finger through your folds, teasing at your entrance. “Want your sweet Chanyeollie to eat your pretty cunt, baby? Hm? Want him to make you feel good?”

Your chest rises rapidly, fast, shallow breaths swirling into your lungs. His filthy words curl beneath your nose, thrumming in your ears, intoxicating and disorienting in their deadly temptation. Desperation tugs at every nerve in your body and your hips buck and roll, chasing his caress. Want pools, dark and heavy, in Chanyeol’s hooded eyes as he watches his friend’s teasing ministrations. He licks his lips, full and pink and glistening in the low light of their apartment and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

“Fuck yes.” The words are nothing less than a growl in the back of your throat, a sound you never thought yourself capable of producing.

Baekhyun suddenly reaches forward, weaving his fingers through Chanyeol’s thick hair and tugging him forward. The younger gives no resistance, bracing his hands on your lower thighs as he allows himself to be guided to you. His lips part, tongue peeking out, and your anticipation skyrockets. But then he stops just short, and all you’re left with is the faint caress of his warm breath to soothe the insatiable ache between your hips. You almost whimper.

Chanyeol’s nostrils flare, eyes sharpening in annoyance as he shoots a glare up in Baekhyun’s direction. He only grins and arches a brow. “What? You’re not gonna ask for it first? Where are your manners, Yeol?” He gasps mockingly, eyes twinkling with mirth.

You don’t expect Chanyeol to give in at first, not with how competitive he could be and especially not with Baekhyun acting so damn condescending. But then he does, and you forget how to breathe.

“Please, y/n,” he pants hotly against your skin, “I wanna taste you so bad. I wanna make you feel good, baby. Let me make you feel good. Please. Fuck, please.” A low, needy groan trembles in the back of his throat, clinging to that last ravenous plea. He snags his lower lip between his teeth and you feel yourself throb. The man looks down right sinful, Baekhyun still clutching onto his inky locks, forcing a slight strain in his neck as he looks up at you with those damn eyes that make your stomach churn and your mind spin.

God, he’s so beautiful.

Overwhelmed with the need to touch him, you nudge Baekhyun’s hand out of the way and replace it with your own, immediately loving the feeling of Chanyeol’s soft hair sliding between your fingers. His eyes flutter under the gentleness of your grip, lips parting as he breathes a delicate sigh, gazing up at you expectantly.

“Come here, Yeolie.”

He’s more than happy to comply.

The first stroke of his tongue sends sparks of electricity shooting through your entire body, a silent gasp shaping your lips. He looks up at you through dark lashes, encouraged and invigorated by your responsiveness to him, licking eagerly at your cunt. Soft moans flutter through his chest, and you shiver at the faint vibrations that are sent pulsing through you.

“Fuck, Chan,” you hiss, rocking your hips forward when he laves over your clit. The friction makes your skin tremble, a dangerous heat rising beneath it. If you knew he was this good with his mouth, you would have jumped his bones a whole lot sooner.

Another moan builds in your chest, but it’s abruptly stifled when Baekhyun tangles a hand into your hair and pulls you into a kiss that doesn’t fail to knock the air out of your lungs. Having both of their mouths on you makes your head spin and you can’t decide which to focus on. You’ve never been with more than one person at the time and it’s slightly overwhelming to suddenly have two men— two gorgeous men at that, both eager and willing to give you more pleasure than you’ve ever experienced.

Warm fingers suddenly slip beneath the thick fabric of your sweatshirt, and you shiver as they glide over your skin, light and teasing in advance towards your chest. A tremor wracks your spine when he pinches a nipple, squeezing his digits around the shape of your breast. Your back arches unconsciously, and you feel him smirk. Distracted, you don’t feel the burn of Chanyeol’s impatient glare until his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

Yelping in shock, you snap your gaze back down to the younger boy, disbelief coloring your features. He has the audacity to smirk at you, cocking a brow in a manner that has a mixture of annoyance and arousal flaring up in your gut. Any glimmer of smug accomplishment is quickly washed from his face when your hand shoots down and roughly grips the hair on the back of his head, yanking him upwards until your nose to nose.

“Watch your teeth, Yeolie.” You murmur darkly.

“Or what?” The corner of your mouth twitches at his gutsy response.

“Or I’ll make sure to edge you until you cry.”

His eyes widen at the threat and he swallows thickly. From your peripheral, you see the crotch of his grey sweatpants rise.

“Oh? But it looks like you’d like that.” A deep crimson flush rushes into his ears and tinges the tips of his ears and he lowers his eyes, unable to hold your mirthful gaze any longer. “I guess I’ll just have to think of a better punishment.”

“I’m sorry,” his voice comes out airy and desperate, the natural rasp making the knot in your stomach tighten, “I promise I’ll be good.”

“Will you?”

“Yes.” You search his blown pupils for any sign of dishonesty, but find only sincerity and intoxicating lust. Satisfied, you release your tight grip on his hair in favor of gently stroking your knuckles over his blushing cheek.

“Then be a good boy and show me what this pretty mouth,” you trace your thumb gently over the soft, pink flesh of his lower lip, “can really do.”

The moment he’s released from your entrancing gaze, his mouth is on you again, eating you out with a fervor you’ve never before experienced. Your hips buck against him, your head tipping back as you let out rasping groans.

“Fuck, Yeol. That’s it, baby. Good boy.” He moans against you as spill praise after praise, lapping hungrily at your soaking pussy.

“That was so fucking sexy.” Baekhyun growls roughly, kissing you hard once before he’s pulling away to speak again. “Watching you boss him around, take control like that…” his voice drawls into a low groan, “really does something to me.”

“Yeah?” You ask shakily, mind whirling as Chanyeol buries his tongue inside of you. Baekhyun grins, humming lightly in confirmation. “Maybe you should let me boss you around, too.”

“Not a chance.” He chuckles. “Maybe next time. But tonight…” your mouth falls open in a silent gasp as he wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing ever so gently, “your mine, sweetheart.”

Next time. He said next time.

There’s going to be a next time.

The amount of joy you receive from those two simple words borders on irrational.

“I— oh fuck!” You can only cry out in bliss as Chanyeol wraps his lips around your clit, sucking roughly. Your hips jerk and grind, moving on their own accord as he draws you closer and closer to your high. God, you’re so close you can taste it. Your trembling hands find purchase in his hair once more, desperate to hold onto something as the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

“You gonna cum all over Yeolie’s tongue, baby? You gonna cum for us?” Baekhyun coos encouragingly against your jaw, and you can only whimper and nod frantically, unable to speak when Chanyeol sinks a long finger into your wet cunt, fucking you skillfully with his digit while he focuses his mouth on abusing your throbbing clit until your reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess on their living room couch.

“Yes— oh god, yes.”

When the coil snaps, it snaps hard. You can only manage a strangled whimper when it crashes over you. How long had it been since you last come on something other than your own hand? Weeks? Months? You can’t recall. But honestly how much does it really matter when your best friend’s face is nestled snug between your thighs?

The muscles of your legs seize and tremble beneath the force of your release, only held open by Chanyeol’s strong hands. He is unrelenting even as you come undone around him, tongue rolling over your clit, finger curling against your walls as his heady, hooded eyes devour you. You only manage to get him to detach him from you when you give a weak tug at his hair, the post-orgasm sensitivity proving too much for your body to handle.

“F– fuck.” You shiver, panting as tendrils of residual pleasure lick at your senses, the cold phantom of his tongue making you clench around nothing but empty air is pathetic greed. “Fuck, come here.”

Chanyeol is quick to rise onto his knees, obedient as ever, letting out a soft gasp of surprise as you cup his face and draw him into a heated kiss. He melts into you, large hands finding purchase on your thighs (which are still shaking) and caressing them soothingly.

“Thank you,” you breathe against his mouth, “thank you. Thank you.”

You feel him smiling as you continue to express your gratitude in gentle words spoken between deep, passionate kisses and it’s not long before his smile turns into something wide and toothy and uncontainable and he’s bursting into a fit of giggles as you resort to peppering the rest of his face in playful kisses.

“Easy now, sweetheart. Save the aftercare for when we’re done, yeah?” Baekhyun’s lilting hum draws your attention, and you look at him with wide eyes.

“We’re not done?”

His brows jump, that familiar lopsided smirk offsetting his pretty lips. “Are you kidding me? We’ve got two years worth of orgasms to make up for. We’re nowhere near finished.” A shiver of excitement ricochets down your spine at the promise laced into his words, and you have to bite your lip to keep a wide grin at bay.

Suddenly, Baekhyun rises from the couch and it’s with immense effort that you refrain from staring directly at the prominent bulge straining against the thin fabric of his plaid pajama pants. Swallowing thickly, you look up at him as he extends a hand. “Come on. The bedroom is much more comfortable to get your brains fucked out in. Speaking from experience.” You scoff at the sleazy smirk he shoots you, but slide your hand into his nonetheless.

The moment you’re on your feet, your knees buckle and you nearly topple. Luckily for you, Chanyeol has remarkable reflexes (when it counts) and catches you by the waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Shit, Yeol. You really did a number on her.” Baekhyun remarks teasingly. A feverish blush rises up your neck and you shoot him a glare.

“Shut up.”

He bites the corner of his lip, gives you a heated once over that leaves your skin burning and trembling, before spinning on his heels sauntering in the direction of his bedroom door. He stops in the frame for a brief moment and shoots you a sultry wink from over his shoulder. “Come make me.”

Fuck.

Chanyeol let’s out a yelp of surprise as you lace your fingers through his and tug him hurriedly in the direction of his roommate’s bedroom. The very second that you’re through the door, lips connect with yours, stealing the very air from your lungs and obliterating any last remaining bit of your sanity. Hands seize your half naked body, eagerly exploring the expanse of your feverish skin. They tug at the hindering fabric of your sweatshirt, until all at once it is being pulled over your head and cast off carelessly somewhere in the darkness. You don’t even shiver, the heat of their bodies surrounding you and warding off the cool air.

Chanyeol takes the opportunity to slide a hand beneath your chin and tilt your head back so that it rests on his shoulder, the tip of his tongue flicking over your lips until they part, welcoming him in. Reaching back, you grab hold of his hips, tugging them forward and guiding them in a slow grinding motion against your ass. He moans hotly at the frictions, kiss turning sloppy as pleasure rushes through him.

You’re distinctly aware of the pressure of Baekhyun’s own mouth beginning a slow descent, starting from your jaw, gliding down the length of your throat, pausing to lick and suck at your sensitive nipples, kissing with a staggering tenderness over your belly. Then you hear his knees hit the floor. All at once, his tongue flattens against your clit, and you have to break away from Chanyeol as your body jolts violently in response. There’s still lingering sensitivity from your first orgasm, amplifying the pleasure tenfold.

And god, it’s so good.

“F– fuck, Baek—” your voice breaks off into a trembling whimper, hips bucking as he sinks a finger into your heat. Followed shortly thereafter by a second. Then a third. The stretch has you keening, leaning the full weight of your body against Chanyeol’s sturdy chest. He’s the only thing keeping you upright at the moment. Had you been left to your own devices, you would have already collapsed.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready for us, baby.” Baekhyun hums with a lightness entirely unfitting for the current situation, nipping at the inside of your thigh. He supplies you with a slow, calculated thrust, biting his lip harshly as he watches your glistening arousal coat his digits. “Fucking hell, your soaking.”

You whimper shakily, head tipping back as Chanyeol nips and sucks at the juncture of your throat, his large hands gliding over the shape of your body as if he intends to commit it to memory— caressing every curve, fondling every edge, touching you, worshipping you with a reverence that pours into your very soul. You’ve never been touched like this before. Most men just think they have a right to you the second your clothes are off (some even before that). There’s no respect, no appreciation, nothing but dirty lust.

But this— this is different. It’s a feeling you can’t quite put into words. The way he’s touching you, like you’re a precious work of art, it makes you feel good. It makes you feel… beautiful. Something you rarely, if ever, felt when you were with your ex.

Baekhyun swirls his tongue around your clit and simultaneously curls his fingers, successfully stroking that long neglected bundle of nerves inside of you. The sensations it sets off inside of you are intense and overwhelming, and within seconds you’re coming for a second time. This orgasm comes completely unexpectedly and without any real warning outside of the breakneck explosion of pleasure that has stars scattering across your vision.

“Baek—!” you can only manage a broken yelp of his name as your body convulses above him, wracked and disoriented by the sudden, explosive burst of ecstasy. Now your shivering, trembling and gasping violently, but not from the cold. He watches in wonder as you unravel, clenching so tightly around his fingers that he can only begin to imagine what you’ll feel like coming around his cock. Shit, he can’t wait to be inside of you. He’s throbbing at the mere thought of it.

Chanyeol’s no better off, barely holding himself back from rutting against you like some kind of animal. But he wants to impress you, show you he has some semblance of self control even when it feels like he might burst in his pants at any given moment. He wants to be good for you. So for now, he can only watch with bated breath, painfully hard in his sweats, as your face contorts into an expression of pure bliss. God, you look so beautiful like this he almost can’t stand it. How could anyone let someone like you go?

“Holy f-fuck.” You whimper, attempting to catch your breath as your high begins to fade. Baekhyun has plastered a cocky grin across his face by the time you look down at him, though his eyes still sparkle with something indecipherable.

“That was a good one.” He says, carefully retracting his fingers from your heat as Chanyeol hums in agreement, nuzzling his nose behind your ear comfortingly when you shudder and whine at the emptiness. “We’re gonna break her at this rate.”

“Not a chance,” you interject firmly, albeit somewhat breathlessly, “I’m a lot tougher than you think.” It’s the truth, but the quiver in your voice begs to differ.

“So you can handle another one?” Baekhyun asks, rising to his full height.

You hold his fiery gaze. “I can handle anything you give me.”

Something in his eyes darkens. “Careful, sweetheart. You have… no idea the kind of filthy, depraved things I want to do to you.” His voice drops an octave, and, despite having already come twice (twice as many times as you were used to), your greedy cunt still throbs with need.

Boldly, you extend a hand, caressing over his clothed length, and feel a surge of pride when he inhales sharply, hard gaze faltering.

Leaning forward, you feather your lips over his, teasing. It’s a dangerous game you're playing, you know that. But you’re enjoying it far too much to stop now.

“Show me.”

Those two little words are all it takes to break Byun Baekhyun.

“Bed. Now.”

Perhaps you’re just a little too eager to comply, barely biting back a grin of excitement as you turn tail and scramble to his king sized bed.

The disheveled sheets welcome you into their embrace, still warm in the spot Baekhyun had occupied prior your unannounced visit. They smell of him, you notice, the coconut of his shampoo, the milk & honey of his body wash, the soft vanilla of his perfume. You recognize the latter as the bottle he “borrowed” from you a few months back and had yet to return. Not that you really mind. You secretly like the fact that he smells like you.

Chanyeol is first to round the side of the bed, ridding himself of his clothes along the way. Shirt first, then pants, and you can’t help but giggle as he hops clumsily out of his boxers, nearly bumping into the nightstand before he falls gracelessly onto the mattress beside you, offering up a sheepish grin.

“Sexy, aren’t I?” Sarcasm bleeds through his tone, embarrassment hot on his cheeks, though it’s quickly soothed as you draw him into a gentle kiss.

“Excruciatingly.” You enunciate teasingly, nipping at the tip of his nose.

The bed dips around your ankles, and you peer down to see a very primal looking Baekhyun crawling towards you, like a predator honing in on his prey. The carnal hunger pooling in his hooded eyes hits you straight in the chest, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

Slotting himself between your hips, you could easily make out every inch of his length resting against your stomach, hot and hard and throbbing. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone inside of you this badly. His head lowers to your throat and he sets your skin ablaze with open mouthed kisses. Chanyeol makes sure the opposite side of your neck isn’t neglected long, feeling the erratic pulsing of your carotid artery beneath the slow strokes of his tongue. Your head falls back into the pillows, a sigh fluttering from your lips as you’re bathed in their affections.

Baekhyun slips a hand beneath your knee, hooking it over his hip. Your lungs tremble with excitement when he slides his tip slowly through your wet folds.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you see stars.”

“I already have,” you smirk lazily in response, snagging the corner of your lip between your teeth, “Twice.”

He doesn’t seem discouraged, curving a hand around the shape of your jaw and feathering his mouth over yours as his eyes glint with something sinful and electrifying. “Then I’m gonna show you the goddamn galaxy.”

There’s no time to respond before his hips are rolling forward, filling you to the hilt with one smooth stroke. A breathless gasp trembles from his throat, “fuck.”

“Does she feel good?” The question that escapes Chanyeol is weak and needy, strained and rough, coming from somewhere deep in his chest. He almost sounds like he’s struggling, battling with himself internally as he watches his best friend’s cock disappear inside of our cunt with a lewd squelch. The searing heat of his gaze makes you whine in pathetic desperation, no longer unable to form coherent words to express your desire.

“Fucking Christ, Yeol. She’s so tight a-and wet— ah, fucking perfect.” Baekhyun’s shoulders arch, a tremor rippling down his spine as your walls constrict around him, squeezing so tightly he almost loses himself then and there. But he manages to hold back, bracing a hand on your hip as he pushes himself up right.

“Baek, please.”

There’s no need for elaboration. He knows exactly what you’re asking for. And hell, he’s more than happy to provide.

The first thrust of his hips has your back arching off of the mattress, mouth opening in silent bliss. The pace he sets is punishing, fast and deep and rough. His blunt nails dig harshly into the flesh of your hips, but you relish in it, pain and pleasure coming together to create the perfect cocktail. The lingering sensitivity from your two previous orgasms only serves to heighten the ecstasy that you're experiencing. And with Chanyeol pressed against your side, large, calloused hands and gentle lips making sure each and every inch of you is receiving attention, it doesn’t take long at all before you feel that coil in your stomach tightening.

“I’m not gonna last.” You moan weakly, clinging to Chanyeol like he’s your one and only lifeline.

“Fuck, come on, beautiful. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” Baekhyun growls, snapping his hips roughly into yours. You cry out desperately when Chanyeol trails a hand down your body, circling a careful finger around your clit.

“Oh god, please. Please, Yeol. Harder. Baek— fuck, please.” You’re on the verge of tears, muscles shuddering violently as the white hot pleasure pulses through your veins.

“Who are you begging, sweetheart?” Baekhyun grins down at you devilishly, licking at his teeth as his eyes glow with something dangerous and powerful. Your stomach whirls, and you nearly headbutt Chanyeol when your body lurches, entirely overwhelmed. It’s so much— too much— but, somehow, not enough.

Your legs squeeze around Baekhyun’s hips, heels pressing into the swells of his ass, urging him deeper as you implore him wordlessly for more. You want everything, however selfish that may sound. You want it all. Every last piece of him.

This time around, you’re more than grateful that he can read you so well.

Simultaneously, the two boys fiercen their ministrations: Baekhyun, fucking himself into you so hard that the headboard is slamming into the wall; Chanyeol, applying enough pressure to your sensitive clit that your sanity nearly flies out the window. Within seconds, entangled in the staggering heat of their bodies, you come undone.

Damn. Baekhyun wasn’t kidding about showing you the galaxy.

Never in your life have you experienced an orgasm like this. One that tears through your very being like a raging tsunami. You feel it rippling through every cell, igniting every nerve ending in fiery ecstasy.

Baekhyun is barely able to hold himself together as you unravel beneath him, his entire body trembling and sweating with the effort of fighting back his own high, which is threatening to break over him at any given second. The mere sight of you is almost enough to do him in, but he wants to make sure to ride you through yours before he allows himself even a taste of his own. Harder said than done when you look so good and feel ever better, clenching and pulsing around him and god he’s about to lose his fucking mind.

He’s panting and groaning, rolling his hips deeply into yours, keeping himself teetering dangerously on that edge. But it’s you, your voice whimpering his name, your fluttering, teary eyes barely able to keep themselves open looking up at him, that finally breaks him. He bucks into you sharply, hips spluttering, body shaking as he spills himself. It’s sudden and it’s messy and it’s the most goddamn beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed.

The moment he’s finished, he collapses on top of you, completely out of breath and red in the face; thoroughly fucked out. But that doesn’t stop him from bathing you in whispered praises.

“You’re so amazing. You did so well. You’re so beautiful.”

His words warm your heart, which is just barely beginning to return to a more natural rhythm. They lick the wounds from the nights previous events, soothe the ache that was long forgotten in the thralls of your best friends’ soothing touch.

Baekhyun pulls out of you carefully, and you have to physically stop yourself from pouting at the emptiness and loss of the weight and warmth of his body as he rolls off of you, flopping onto the mattress at your side with a huff of hazy laughter.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, a dopey smile plastered across his face as he tosses an arm over his eyes, “that was amazing.”

“So fucking amazing.” You emphasize, trying uselessly to catch your breath.

It’s only when you feel something nudging at your opposite hip that you're able to refocus your bleary mind on the unfinished task. You turn, finding the adorable scrunched face of Chanyeol, cheeks red, eyes wanting.

The younger boy chews on his lower lip, swallowing a groan. He’s trying his best not to come off as too desperate, but you see right through him. You see how hard he is, veins thick and throbbing beneath the angry red skin, his flushed tip weeping with precum. Honestly, you’re surprised he hasn’t touched himself yet. It looks like it hurts.

Licking your lips, you can’t help but to wonder what he might taste like, how he’d feel against your tongue, the kinds of sounds he’d make when his body was overwhelmed with pleasure. You bet he’s loud when he comes. Fuck, that deep, raspy voice would sound so good moaning your name.

… perhaps you are feeling just a little greedy.

“Yeol,” he snaps to attention at the wispy call of his name, inhaling sharply when your fingers graze his thigh, “come here.”

He blinks in confusion, not understanding what you want him to do. Recognizing the lost puppy dog look, you chuckle before elaborating in far more blunt terms to avoid further misunderstanding;

“I want you to fuck my mouth.”

If he were to open his eyes any wider, you were certain they’d fall straight out of his head. “I– I can’t– you just—” he stutters clumsily, shaking his head, but you can feel his body practically trembling in excitement at the implication of your words.

“Please. You’ve been so good for me. I wanna make you feel good, too, baby.” You coo, tugging at his knee once more before leaning up to graze your lips over the shell of his flushed ear. “Let me make you feel good, Yeolie.”

He shivers violently, a strangled moan breaking from his swollen mouth, and you smirk to yourself, knowing you’ve got him. He seems nervous as he pushes himself up and crawls to kneel next to your head before hesitating, blinking as he tries to figure the right way to position himself.

He’s cute when he’s concentrating.

“Like this—” you chime in. Chanyeol gasps and flushes a deep red when you guide him forward until his knees are on either side of your head, his hard length swinging proudly above your nose.

Reaching up, you take his large hands in yours, interlacing your fingers. “If I tap on the back of your hand—” you demonstrate, “it means stop, okay? You have to stop immediately when I do that because I won’t be able to speak.”

He nods, expression serious, “I understand. I’ll stop if you tap on my hand.”

“Good,” you pause, a gentle smile upturning the corners of your mouth, “I trust you.”

His breath hitches. “Thank you.”

Instead of responding, you tip your chin up and trace your tongue over the underside of his cock. His hips stutter forward, a surprised moan escaping him at the unexpected contact.

“Stop teasing and feed her your cock, Chanyeol. Can’t you see how bad she wants it?” Baekhyun chuckles mockingly, sliding a lithe hand around your jaw and squeezing, forcing your mouth open even wider. Chanyeol looks down at you through blown pupils, chest heaving, lust practically radiating from his every pore. But it’s only when you offer a nod of reassurance and a look that you hope gives of even the faintest of glimpses into your immense desire for this, for him, does he finally move.

With a tenderness only Park Chanyeol could possess in a position such as this, he guides himself between your awaiting lips. You moan unabashedly as the bittersweet taste of him hits your tongue, tipping your chin up to make more of him in. A shuddering moan pulses from his chest, pitched and broken on red bitten lips. The sound is somehow even more beautiful than you imagined.

Languidly, you swirl your tongue around his weeping tip, eliciting a strained whisper of your name as the grip he has on your hands tightens substantially. He offers a slow, shallow thrust, his head dropping forward as his length slides deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth. The pressure of your tongue against the underside of his cock and the heavy reverberations of your soft, encouraging moans invigorate him to set a careful rhythm, hips stroking gently forward.

Your knuckles dig into the messy sheets as he pivots his weight forward, and you quickly relax your jaw when you feel him inching closer to your throat with every thrust. Chanyeol is even more considerate than you thought he’d be, pulling out far enough between steady strokes that you can swallow lungfuls of oxygen before sliding smoothly back in, deeper and deeper each time. Tears pool in the corners of your eyes, mouth straining in order to accommodate his impressive girth. But hell, it’s worth it. Totally worth it.

His breathing became harsh and labored, filling his lungs with sharp, ragged inhales that shudder through the deep cavity of his chest. “F– fuck, y/n,” he groans hoarsely, head dipping as his eyes squeeze shut, “your mouth is— s- so good.”

Your core tightens around nothing at the rasping whimper, the faint caress of his warm breath rousing goosebumps across the damp skin of your belly. The subconscious clenching of your thighs is wholly unintentional, but it does not go unnoticed.

Chanyeol lets out a choked gasp as a hand slides into his hair, his upper body suddenly forced downwards.

“Come on, Yeolie,” Baekhyun coos tauntingly in his ear, “you were the one going on and on about balance. So why don’t you provide some… ‘give and take’, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he barely whispers, but you still feel a rush of hot breath over your core and moan throatily around his cock. He tenses and shudders in response to the delicious rush of vibrations, tightening his grip on your hands as Baekhyun guides him lower.

Honestly, you aren’t sure at first if you have another one in you. Three orgasms in one night was unimaginable before tonight. Four seemed simply unrealistic. Your poor pussy is still pulsing and trembling from the last. But the moment Chanyeol flicks his tongue over your clit, the most delicate of kitten licks, you know that you do.

This time though, it’s like molten metal boiling in the pit of your stomach, a wholly unfamiliar sensation. Each press of his lips and roll of his tongue fans the fire blazing through your veins. You try your best to keep up, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue, but it’s difficult when it feels like your brain is short circuiting. The pleasure is fiercer, more intense, rolling over you in thick, devastating waves. You’re reduced to little more a moaning, writhing mess beneath him, barely able to keep yourself from choking on his cock.

Chanyeol’s hips buck frantically as your throat constricts, his own ministrations getting rougher and sloppier the closer he gets. You feel his teeth against your clit, then two long fingers slipping through your slicks folds and fucking themselves into your pussy. Baekhyun can only groan hotly at how easily you take his digits, squeezing his opposite hand around the base of his hard dick.

“I’m gonna come,” Chanyeol whimpers hurriedly, “oh fuck I’m gonna come.”

Suddenly, his hips pulse and your bottom lip make contact with the flat of his pelvis. It takes every ounce of control you have over your body to push back your gag reflex, but the way he trembles and breaks above you is undoubtedly worth the strain. A jumbled mess of words tumble from his lips as he comes, though only your name and a select few curses are intelligible between the deep, violent moans that burst from his chest.

Tears fall from the corners of your eyes as he fucks himself into your mouth, motions stuttered and sloppy. But you swallow around him eagerly as he fills your throat with his release, which only serves in prolonging his orgasm until he’s shivering and whining and hell— each sound, each tremble has the coil in your stomach squeezing tighter and tighter.

All the while, Baekhyun’s fingers are loyally exploring your silken walls until he once again discovers that small bundle of nerves that make your head spin. Combined with Chanyeol moaning and growling against your clit— you're a dead woman.

This final orgasm is the equivalent of having a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Every hair on your body jumps to stand at attention, oxygen suddenly igniting into flames in your lungs. You scream around Chanyeol’s cock, back bowing off the mattress, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. It’s so intense you honestly feel like you might pass out. But it’s so good, too good —fuck, it’s the best you’ve ever had!— and you want to relish in every mind numbing moment.

All at once, Chanyeol is gone from between your lips and you gasp, a rush of cool air like a glass of ice water in the torrid desert flooding into your lungs and soothing the angry blaze.

“Holy shit.”

You’re too gone in the high to make out who the strained whisper had come from, or to notice the sudden substantial amount of wetness painting the insides of your thighs and seeping into the sheets below. Your brain feels thoroughly scrambled, effectively stupefied by the prodigious pleasure and you can do nothing but bask in it.

“Have you ever done that before?” It takes you a few extra seconds to realize that the question is directed at you.

“Hmm?” You hum blearily, not bothering to try and lift your head.

“Squirting,” Baekhyun clarifies, voice thick with wonder, “have you ever done that before?”

“Squirting? No, I’ve never—” your head snaps up, eyes bulging, “I squirted?!”

If the excessive arousal currently coating (and dripping from) Chanyeol’s astonished face and the unusually large wet spot staining the sheets is anything to go by, the answer is a clear yes.

Panic strikes your chest. “Oh my god. Oh my god, I- I am so—”

“Don’t apologize! Don’t you dare apologize.” Baekhyun abruptly cuts you off, splaying a hand over your belly. “That has to be the most— amazing thing I have ever seen. No girl has ever squirted on me before. I’m honestly honored.”

“Baekhyun, please.” You whine, pulling a pillow over your feverish face and snapping your legs shut.

“I’m serious!” He yelps indignantly, tugging the pillow away from you and tossing it to the side despite your noisy complaints. Two strong hands find either of your thighs and pry them apart in spite of your stubborn resistance, revealing the slippery mess you made on the sheets below.

Heat rushes up your neck as Chanyeol falls into position between them like it’s the most natural thing in the entire world and begins licking at your wet skin. The muscles of your thighs shake and tighten uncontrollably under the intimate ministrations, the post orgasm sensitivity extending beyond your core and into each of your limbs.

“Chan,” you whimper remorsefully, clenching your fingers in the duvet, “I can’t. I can’t.”

He smiles against your skin, licks turning into gentle kisses that make your heart flutter and melt in ways it definitely should not in response to your best friend’s big, sweet eyes. Then again— this entire situation is remarkably unconventional in regards to a typical friendship. Not that you’re complaining because really, how could you? Four orgasms? In one night? Unheard of. A part of you wonders if they were actually just trying to kill you.

While Chanyeol bathes you in his limitless affection, Baekhyun vanishes from your side and into the attached bathroom, returning only moments later with a towel saturated with hot water. You hum gratefully as he carefully scrubs away the sheen of sweat and sticky arousal clinging to your skin. And he’s considerate, too? Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.

“You guys are going to ruin all other men for me, fucking hell.” You huff out a hoarse chuckle. Chanyeol suddenly flops down beside you, nuzzling his face into the juncture of your shoulder.

“Who needs other men when you have us?” He rebukes, large hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.

You can honestly find no reason to disagree.

“Guys,” Baekhyun chimes once finished scrubbing you down, “let’s move to Chanyeol’s room. I need to throw these sheets in the washer before they get crusty. Made that mistake once. Never again.”

“I would totally do that but I’m pretty sure my legs are numb.”

“Ain’t no thang, pretty lady. I’ve got you.” Chanyeol chirps gallantly, slipping his arms beneath your legs and back. Before you can make any kind of protest, you’re being swooped off the bed and pressed into a warm chest. Shrieks of laughter peel from your lips as the gentle giant spins, and you throw your arms around his neck just for extra precaution.

“Yeolie,” Baekhyun whines mockingly, stomping his foot childishly as he plasters an exaggerated pout across his face, “you never pick me up and twirl me around like a pretty princess.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” you tease, extending a leg and pressing your toes against his chest, “only room for one pretty princess in this apartment.”

“Oh, okay. I see how it is.” He scoffs as he stumbles back and falls dramatically back onto the mattress, hand splayed over his heart like you had somehow managed to wound him.

“Speaking of washing,” Chanyeol chirps, glancing down at you, “How does a warm bath sound?”

“Like heaven.” You groan. “Baek, feel free to join us after you're done doing your laundry.” You shoot him a mirthful grin as Chanyeol pivots and carries you out of the room that bears the musky, filthy scent of sex.

“Wait you’re just gonna— but I—“ Baekhyun wavers, looking between your retreating figures and his stupid dirty sheets before letting out a groan of frustration and scurrying after you. “Fuck it. I’m coming, I’m coming!”

“Is your bathtub big enough to fit three people?” You question, gaze landing on Baekhyun’s cute ass as he jogs ahead.

Chanyeol shrugs, humming thoughtfully. “We can squeeze.”

You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“We can definitely squeeze.”

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