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#HIS HAIR IS MAKING ME WANT TO PASS AWAY THE AMOUNT OF TIMES I HAD TO STRUGGLE CUZ OF HIS HAIR
ellecdc · 2 days
Note
I come with wolfstar comfort thoughts <3
When you're sick remus is wonderful, he hates seeing you ill so he does everything he can to help: makes you tea, maybe some soup, gets you some meds and puts you on the sofa with a blanket and a pillow (sirius's chest)
Sirius on the other hand is less sure of what to do but he still wants to help so he let's remus tell him what to do, he's in charge of physical stuff like carrying you to the sofa (even if you're perfectly capable of walking) and being your human pillow while remus is busy in the kitchen, he's also tasked with moral support which mainly consists of stupid jokes and funny stories (he has many of james being a total drama queen when he got ill in the dorms)
I hope you feel better soon <3
-💫anon
poor Siri - I had a vision for this and now that it's written, I'm not sure I quite hit the mark, but let me know what you think! and thanks for your request <3
poly!wolfstar x sick!reader who they plan to nurse back to health
CW: fem!reader, cold/flu symptoms, brief passing mention of Sirius' childhood (no details), fluff
Sirius closed the door behind him and tossed his keys haphazardly into the dish that Remus insisted they go in, causing a loud clanging which echoed through the hallway. 
He realised only then how quiet the flat was in comparison which was rather unusual for this time of day as you and Remus always managed to beat Sirius home. 
Sirius felt some tension ease from his face (and body and soul) when he saw a familiar head of tawny curls over the back of the couch. 
His plans for a surprise upside-down Spiderman style kiss - to what he had assumed was a sleeping Moony having fallen asleep reading a book - was foiled when Sirius came around the top of the couch to see you - looking particularly pathetic - curled up and resting your head in Remus’ lap fast asleep. 
“Wha-?” Sirius asked dumbly, looking between Remus’ sad smile and your sleeping form - you seemed flushed and were breathing with your mouth open, likely because you couldn’t breathe from your nose.
“Hey Pads.” Remus offered quietly.
“What happened?”
Remus grimaced as he looked down at you and brushed some of your hair away from your face; you didn’t even stir. “I don’t think she ever made it to work today; I got home and found her on the couch.”
And Sirius could see that this was likely true, based on the vast amount of evidence that you’d been living on the sofa. 
You’d tried to contain your used tissues to a paper bag but there were a few stragglers from where you no doubt lacked the strength to put much effort into aiming anymore. A half empty waterbottle and a bowl of soup with a layer of film on the top sat dejectedly on the coffee table along with a packet of Benilyn with a few missing tablets.
“Poor babydoll.” Sirius cooed as he rubbed Remus’ shoulder. 
Remus turned to press a kiss to Sirius’ hand before gently lifting your head in order to stand.
“We’ll nurse her back to health in no time.”
Sirius felt his eyebrows furrowed as he watched Remus gently lower your head onto a throw pillow; still never managing to rouse you from your sleep. 
“How do we do that?” Sirius asked.
Remus hummed as he made for the kitchen and Sirius followed him much like a lost puppy. “Well she needs lots of rest, and we should try to get her to eat before we give her anything to bring down her fever; she hardly ate any of the soup she made earlier. Maybe some Chamomile too. But I want to start by bringing her fever down.” He said with finality as he started puttering in the kitchen. 
“What should I do?” Sirius asked like a child helping their parents in the kitchen; he felt worse than useless, he felt like he was in the way.
This is what happens when you don’t have a loving family; you don’t always know how to love - the verb to love, the action of loving someone. 
Sirius feels love, he knows that much. He just doesn’t always know what to do with all of that love.
Luckily for him, he had two of the loveliest partners in the world to help him on that end. 
Remus turned to smile softly at Sirius before leaning down to peck a kiss to his head. “Go change into some comfies and I’ll put you to work.”
And well, Sirius didn’t need to be told twice. 
Officially donned in his favourite pair of sweats and a long sleeve band tee, Sirius returned to find Remus knelt in front of you on the couch as he whispered. 
“I know, Dovey.” Sirius could hear Remus coo quietly as he approached. “Think you can try for me, though?”
You made a sound halfway between a groan and a sob as you pulled yourself into a seated position and accepted a cup of tea from Remus. 
“Too much honey.” You protested meekly without even taking a sip; Sirius was sure he could smell the honey from where he was standing.
“It’ll help your throat, love.” 
You groaned again but took a dutiful sip which earned you a beaming smile from Remus. 
“I feel horrid.” You croaked, and Remus - god love him - managed to not grimace at the sound; Sirius was thankful he was stationed behind the sofa where you couldn’t see him, because he was not as gracious as your other boyfriend. 
“I bet. When did you last take these?” Remus asked as he motioned towards the medication.
“It was early, I think around eleven.” 
Remus hummed in acknowledgement as he stood from his crouched position. “You should be okay to have more once you’ve got something in your stomach, then. I’ll make soup, okay? Here Pads.” He pointed towards Remus’ now vacated spot on the couch. 
Sirius offered you a sad smile as you turned to look at him. “When did you get home?” You queried.
Remus scoffed in response. “I’m surprised he didn’t wake you, sweet girl, the way he comes in and throws his shit everywhere.”
Sirius scoffed in faux offence. “I am very graceful, thank you very much.”
Whoever said laughter was the best medicine was a sodding liar, because though Sirius got what he had sort of wanted (which was to see you smile), your chuckle quickly turned into a coughing fit. 
“Alright, that’s it.” Remus chided jokingly. “Sirius, lay here please.”
Sirius dutifully followed Remus’ direction and laid back on the sofa with his head resting on the arm and his legs spread, welcoming you into his arms as Remus encouraged you to lay back down with your head resting on Sirius’ stomach. 
“Neither of you are to move until Y/N is better.” Remus ordered with severity no one truly believed. 
“I hope she never gets better then.” Sirius harrumphed as he burrowed further into the sofa beneath him and rubbed loving strokes up and down your back as you wormed your hands around Sirius’ middle. 
“That’s mean.” You pouted.
“I was just saying that to our tyrant, dolly; you get better but pretend you’re not so we can trick him into letting us stay like this forever, deal?” 
“Deal.” You agreed with a sniffling sigh, causing Sirius to tsk in sympathy. 
“My poor sweet girl, so poorly. S’breaking my heart.”
Sirius could feel the heat radiating from your forehead as you hid your face in his stomach.
“I feel a bit better now.” You barely got out without coughing. 
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you, babygirl.” Sirius said with a sad chuckle. 
“It’s true.” You insisted sleepily, turning your head again so that your cheek was pressed against Sirius as you looked up somewhat dopily at him. “It’s always better when you guys are here.” 
And you were likely a little loopy from your fever, feeling more than vulnerable in your current state, and sufficiently doted upon by both Remus and Sirius; but Sirius couldn’t help but admit you were certainly onto something.
Sirius always felt better when the two of you were around too.
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ethanharmonia · 6 months
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VOLO MY BELOVED RRHAHHRHHAHRHHAHEHHRHHRHRHRHHHH🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️💥💥💥💥
FINALLY MADE HIS REFERENCE SHEET BECAUSE MY BRAIN WOULDNT STOP MAKING FAKE SCENARIOS ABOUT HIM BEING EPIC RRRAHHHHH LEAVE ME ALONEEEE (giving info later cuz its late at night and im so tired, tumblr do not explode me again pls spare me)
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DRAWING THAT ARCEUS HAIR OF HIS MADE ME FALL ON THE FLOOR AND COLLAPSE CUZ I STRUGGLED SO HARD TO DO IT RRAH I HATE HIM BUT I LOVE HIM HE IS MY WIFE
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Some other versions cuz i felt like it huehueh
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And some doodlers of him (the one on the top were supposed to be the first thing i made before making the references hhhhhh
(hold up i needa do smth imma give explanation later wait)
(listening to Fantasize by ariana grande made me extra gay for this man help me)
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coco-loco-nut · 22 days
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Iconic
pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
summary: you make it your life goal to embarrass Oscar and annoy him, keeping things fun in his life
masterlist
———————————
“He’s so cute,” a girl sighs in the McLaren fan zone.
“He really is,” you smile, leaning against the barrier.
“Oh my god, hi!” the girl gasps, recognizing you from your boyfriend’s Instagram. You haven’t had social media since you were cyber bullied in middle school, so you were a mystery to his fans. It also let you go to fan zone and have fun with them. You also run a fan page for Oscar on Instagram.
“Hi, I hope you don’t mind that I am standing here?” you say, holding a folded poster in one of your hand and an arm full of friendship bracelets that Oscar helped you make.
“Not at all, oh my god. Sorry, it’s just that you are so iconic,” the girl says and you quirk your eyebrow.
“How so?”
“You don’t have social media which is iconic, but all the fans know how nice you are, and you are always hanging out with us here,” one of her friends say, you nod along.
“Of course I would be here, I gotta support Papaya boys,” you smile. “Wanna help me embarrass Osc?” you ask the group around you.
“It would legit be our honor,” the one laughs, you laugh with her.
“Here,” you take off some friendship bracelets and exchange them with the girls.
“You are the best WAG,” another girl says and you blush a little, dutifully putting on each bracelet.
“I really do try. I even run a fan account for Osc,” you laugh, not revealing more than that.
“No way, that’s actually icon behavior,” the first girl says and you grin.
“Want to see the sign?” you ask, excited to show your latest sign off. Oscar tried to look but you refused to even work on it until he left the hotel.
“Yes!” you are quick to unfold the sign. Your neat handwriting carefully placed each letter just large enough so Oscar could read it.
“Omg, I can’t wait to see his reaction,” one of the fans say, the area is brimming full now, ready for the drivers to come out in a couple minutes.
“Make sure you get pictures of his reaction, he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed,” you giggle, getting ready to hold the sign in front of you as Lando walk onto the stage, excited to see what you wrote this time. He reads it and laughs, turning towards where Oscar is entering. You watch his brows furrow as he reads it. Oscar- I want to eat you up like a pastry :). The Australian’s face turns bright red as he laughs and winks at you, trying to hide his awkward embarrassment at the pickup line. It wasn’t your best, but it was the perfect amount of cringe. Lando gives you a thumbs up from the stage.
“You were right, his face was priceless,” the fan says as you watch Oscar push back his mousy brown hair before putting the hat back on. You swear you might be drooling while watching him, but you catch his gaze falling on you too.
“I LOVE YOU OSCAR!” you yell as he waves goodbye to the fans, giving you a wink. You make sure all of your friendship bracelets are given away before thanking the fans for being cool about you chilling with them. You head back to the paddock, scanning your pass, and beelining to the McLaren motorhome.
“Y/n, can I have that sign?” Lando asks and you happily hand it over.
“As long as you don’t use it to steal my man, have at it,” you chuckle as the Brit hugs you in thanks before walking away.
“Eat me like a pastry?” Oscar gives you an amused smile. “You do know my parents watch that, right?” His favorite thing about you his your playfulness, you can be serious when needed, but your teasing and jests keep his life fun.
“Oh, I know, your mom helped me with that one, the fans loved it too,” you laugh. “You did look so hot up there,” you slightly exaggerate checking him out.
“Why don’t we go back to my drivers room and you show me how you’d like to eat me?” Oscar whispers in your ear, trying to seduce you, but you resist.
“Oh, I’d probably start with the thighs, best muscle to fat ratio in my opinion. Hm, now I’m kinda hungry, what is in hospitality?” you ask, moving towards the food area. Oscar wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him as he picks you up to carry you to his room.
“Nope, don’t start things you can’t finish,” he says, clearly a little hot and bothered.
“Osc, I’m not a cannibal, I don’t actually eat humans,” you tease, not giving up on what you started. Oscar clearly had a different interpretation, maybe the right one, maybe not.
“Shut up before I make you shut up,” Oscar growls in your ear, quickly turning you on and making you drop the joke.
“Yes, Mister Piastri,” you say, knowing it’s affect on him as he drags you into his room, locking the door behind him. Oscar was a couple minutes late to his meeting, Lando holding back giggles as Oscar walks into the room.
“I see the fans aren’t the only ones who love Y/n,” Lando whispers to Oscar, who shoots him a glare. Meanwhile, you scroll Instagram using your fan page, laughing as some of them post the pic of you and the sign, the comments calling on your to reveal yourself via the fan page. You make a post about it as well just to blend in, thirsting over Oscar as well. You can’t imagine if he ever finds out about the account.
“Good luck, Osc. Drive safe,” you kiss him before he puts his helmet on.
“I am always safe,” he gives you his usual awkward smile, you smile back as he puts his helmet on. He squeezes your hand before walking over to the car. You take a seat in the garage, the headphones unflattering as always.
Your stomach drops as there is a crash late in the race, but you are instantly relieved when you realize that Oscar made in through and no one was hurt. He ends up in P2 for the race and you join the team in celebrating at the podium.
“Thank you for being my number one fan, even when you run a secret fan account,” Oscar hugs you in his drivers room.
“How? What?” you play if off but he just laughs, pulling out his phone.
“My private account follows you,” oscar laughs, and you just stare at him.
“That’s actually you? I thought it was a fan,” you quickly pull out your phone and request to follow his account, which he immediately accepts so that you can see all the cute posts he makes about you.
“Stop, Osc, you’re basically running a fan account for me,” you say, admiring his posts, including one from today of you holding the sign. You quickly type a comment that has the other drivers replying like crazy claiming that they found your secret account.
“You two decent?” Mark Weber’s voice says through the door, after a confirmation from Oscar, he lets himself in.
“Why wouldn’t we be decent, Mark?” you ask from the couch.
“I used to be a driver too, and after your fan zone sign nothing is off the table,” Mark shrugs causing you and Oscar to blush. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you great race, I will see you in a few days,” Mark tells Oscar before leaving the room again. You still aren’t sure how Oscar was able to bag the former F1 driver as his manager. Oscar yawns and you notice how tired he is, sleepy Oscar is your favorite version of Oscar.
“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel, first loser,” you tease, helping him gather his things to leave.
“Hey,” he groans at the jab.
“You could be Lando NoWins, my love,” turning your jests onto his teammate.
“That is true,” Oscar yawns, holding your hand as he leads you to his chauffeured car.
“Osc, would you marry me if I was a worm?”
“Who said I’d marry you at all?”
“Alright, that’s it, I’m deleting your fan page,” you pull out your phone. Oscar basically tackles you in the back seat as he lunges for the phone.
“I take it back, I’ll marry you right now if you want,” Oscar pleads.
“Who said I wanted to marry you? Do I look like a worm?” you retort, putting your phone away. Oscar just sighs in defeat.
“God gives is strongest people his greatest challenges, I’m not strong enough for this,” he groans a few seconds later, the tiredness setting in.
“Sorry, baby, I promise you will get unlimited cuddles when we get back to the room,” you smile softly, holding his hand tight.
“I love you,” he whispers, his beautiful brown eyes gazing into your eyes.
“I love you too.”
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lilacmingi · 3 months
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WHEN YOU’RE ON YOUR PERIOD
My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works
Pairing: ATEEZ x fem reader
Total word count: 8,580
Note: I tried to be vague here in terms of sanitary products since I know everyone has different preferences, but pads are mentioned in Mingi’s segment
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𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆 | 홍중 | w.c. 900
Your eyes snapped open as you were awoken by a wave of painful cramps in your abdomen, the intensity so bad it made you physically react and curl in on yourself, your eyes squeezing shut in response. When that didn't bring any relief, you rolled over on your stomach, then onto your back with your arms resting on either side of your head as you stared at the ceiling.
You tried not to move around too much so as not to disturb your boyfriend, Hongjoong, who was sleeping soundly beside you. No doubt was he up half the night working on music, so you knew he needed his rest.
Quietly, you slipped out of bed to the bathroom and sifted thought your box of sanitary items to get something to put on before sliding back under the covers, silently praying the cramps would ease up enough for you to doze off.
Your fingers curled around the sheets, hands balled into fists as you tried to ignore the pain and go back to sleep. Minutes passed, though it felt like hours, and the cramps were too much to bare, so much that an unconscious, quiet whimper slipped past your lips, your face twisted in agony as you pressed it into your pillow. You didn't realize you had woken up your sleeping boyfriend until he called your name drowsily.
"Y/n? You alright?"
There was no hiding it at this point.
"Just my period. You should go back to sleep."
He ignored your suggestion and propped himself on his elbow, eyes scanning you worriedly. "Are you hurting?"
You nodded.
"Is it bad?"
"Enough to keep me from going back to sleep." You winced as another intense wave of cramps hit your lower abdomen.
"Do you need some medicine?"
"I didn't want to take any unless I absolutely have to."
"I think you need some." He commented, pulling back the covers.
"No." You put your hand out, stopping him from getting up. "You were up late and I'm sure you've got to go to the company and work on music later today."
"I can work on it here just the same as I can at work. I've got all my equipment with me."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." He nodded. "I'd rather be here at home to help take care of you anyway."
With that, he got up out of bed and shuffled down the hallway to the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of water and some pain medication to soothe your cramps.
"Here, love." He handed the bottle to you after returning to the bedroom, which you gratefully took, dropping a couple pills into your hand.
"Thanks." You popped the tablets into your mouth and washed them down with water before placing the bottle on the nightstand and slumping against the headboard with closed eyes.
A frown etched its way into Hongjoong's flawless features as he brought a hand up to brush your hair away from your face. Being a man, he was unsure of the amount of pain you were in or how intense it was. Despite that, he wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible during this time. He was fully aware that this was something you'd dealt with for a long time, yet he had a strong desire to care for you and help you through this time of the month. He cared for you too much to watch you suffer.
Your eyes opened to find Hongjoong still standing over you worriedly, his hand resting on top of your head.
"You can lay back down, you know." You chuckled softly.
He stayed in place for a couple seconds before giving in and crawling back into bed with you, his concerned gaze trained on you the entire time.
"Come here." You beckoned him over and he was by your side in an instant.
"Are you going to be okay?" He asked, his hand finding your lower abdomen and rubbing gentle circles over it.
"Of course I will. I just need to give this medicine time to kick in and do it's thing."
"How are your cramps?"
"They still hurt and I'm still uncomfortable, but the little massage feels nice."
"Good." He smiled, applying a little more pressure causing your eyelids to slide closed.
It's true, the massage was enough to lessen the pain, only the tiniest bit, but it was the gesture that counted.
"Are you feeling hot? Or cold? Are you getting chills? Do you need more blankets? If you're too hot I can turn the air conditioner up or bring a fan in here."
"You act like I'm sick or something." You tittered softly at his rambling. "This is just something I have to deal with every month. I'm used to it."
"That doesn't mean I can't take care of you."
"I guess you're right."
"I know I'm right." He grinned. "You still didn't answer my question."
A light chuckle left you. "I'm fine, Joong."
"Alright. I'll stop with the questions now. But if you need anything, and I mean anything, you let me know. If you're craving something specific or need another bottle of water, anything, just say something."
A fond smile graced your features as you brought your hand up to Hongjoong's hair, lovingly running your fingers through it. "What did I do to deserve you?"
"You're just lucky, I guess." He grinned.
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𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐖𝐀 | 성화 | w.c. 850
A knock at your front door sounded through your mostly quiet apartment as you lied in bed curled into a ball.
Not fully awake, you didn't register the persistent knocking for quite some time. Only when it got louder did you sit upright, letting out a frustrated groan. You had started your period the day before and your symptoms were terrible. Your cramps were so bad you had to lie down with a hot pack across your abdomen, the heat making you sweat, though every time you took the pack off, you got goosebumps along your skin and felt freezing cold. To make matters worse, there were breakouts on your face, blotting your skin with ugly, discolored spots, all of these things making you feel gross overall. You hoped whoever was at the door wasn't someone important as you went to answer it.
Your heart dropped to your feet when you saw your boyfriend standing outside.
"Seonghwa!" You exclaimed out of surprise, hurrying to cover your face. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to surprise you. Is it a bad time?"
Yes. Is what you wanted to say.
"I..." You trailed off.
"Are you sick?"
"No. I just look terrible right now."
"That doesn't bother me." He chuckled.
You flinched away when you felt his fingers trying to wrap around your wrists.
"No." You groaned, keeping your hands planted firmly on your face. "It's that time of the month and I'm sweaty, my clothes are soaked, my face is covered in breakouts, I'm bloated, and I'm cramping so so badly that I want to cry."
"Hey." He called out softly, pulling your hands away.
You avoided eye contact with him, not wanting him to see you in such a disheveled state.
His gaze softened when he looked at you, a gentle smile gracing his lips.
"You still look beautiful to me."
You wanted to roll your eyes, but you knew Seonghwa was a genuine person and maybe, even though it was hard to believe, you did look beautiful in his eyes.
"Come on. I have an idea." He took your hand, stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind him before leading you to your bathroom.
You weren't sure what he had in mind, but whatever it was he seemed pleased with himself, so you weren't going to stop him.
Once in your bathroom, he let go of your hand and started rummaging through your cabinets.
"Alright, let's see." He muttered to himself, scanning the items in your bathroom closet.
"Hwa, what are you doing?" You finally asked, a light chuckle accompanying your question.
"I'm giving you a spa day."
"A spa day?" You echoed, your heart fluttering slightly.
"Yeah." He pulled a towel and washcloth from the bathroom closet. "You're feeling bad and what better way to help than to have a spa day? Plus, you deserve to be pampered."
You didn't know if it was your period or your overwhelming love and appreciation for Seonghwa, but you felt like crying.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome, my love." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "Bath or shower?"
"Shower."
Though a bath would be nice, nothing beat the feeling of hot water hitting your lower abdomen, right where the cramps were.
Seonghwa was nice enough to get the shower running for you, sticking his hand in to check the water temperature and make sure it was hot enough.
You thanked him as he left the room, removing your clothes after the door clicked shut. The warm steam hitting your skin as you stepped into the shower was a welcomed feeling. You managed to get through your usual shower routine, the hot water helping to soothe your persistently painful cramps, at least long enough for you to finish bathing.
Once out of the shower, you changed into the fresh pair of clothes you brought with you and used the feminine product you had laid out.
Upon exiting the bathroom, you found Seonghwa laid out on your bed.
"How was your shower?"
"Wonderful. I even cleansed my face while I was in there. I feel so refreshed."
"Well, we're not done yet." He got up off the bed. "Come on."
Guiding you back into the bathroom, Seonghwa opened up a little cabinet beside your sink where all your skincare products were stored and pulled out a small box of acne patches.
He plucked one of the star-shaped pimple patches off the plastic sheet, gently instructing you to stay still while he placed the patch onto your face, covering one of the blemishes.
"One more." He murmured, pulling off a second one and sticking it to your chin.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." He placed a kiss to your forehead. "Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?"
"I'm fine for now. Thank you, though. What I would really like is to cuddle up in bed with you, a heating pad, and something to watch."
"I can arrange that." He smiled happily. "But first, let's get you some pain medicine for those pesky cramps."
"That sounds like a good idea."
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𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎 | 윤호 | w.c. 1,500
Music echoed throughout the practice room as Yunho danced, hitting each move with sharp precision. His facial expressions were intense and full of emotion as if he were putting on an actual performance on stage in front of fans.
You sat in a chair by the wall, watching him with a mesmerized gaze, enraptured by not only him, but his talent and overflowing passion for dancing. Every so often he would glance at you through the mirror, giving you a little smirk before continuing with his routine, knowing the effect he had on you, especially with the sleeves of his t-shirt rolled up to show off his arms.
As you watched, you were suddenly hit with a wave of cramps so painful it caused you to lean forward a bit, almost curling in on yourself. Your face scrunched up in response to the sharp pain.
You had started your period the night before and was expecting to be hit with these terrible cramps sooner or later—it always happened. When you first start, things are light as your body prepares to run its natural cycle, then on the first official day it hits... and it hits hard. Normally, you're woken up in the early morning hours with the most awful cramps, one's that prevent you from sleeping for a while, but on days like this it hits when you're least expecting it.
Rummaging through your bag, you retrieved a small bottle of menstrual pain relief pills, grateful that you carried some with you at all times. Shaking one out into your palm, you grabbed the bottle of water by your chair and used it to take the medication, thankfully going unnoticed by Yunho. Though you wished it would work right away and rid you of this pain and discomfort, you knew that wouldn't happen.
Attempting to ignore the throbbing in your abdomen, you continued watching your boyfriend move across the wooden flooring of the practice room, hoping for a distraction.
Who were you kidding? Nothing could distract you from from the stabbing pain you were experiencing.
The song ended and Yunho moved over to mess with his phone, choosing another song to dance to, his chest heaving up and down as he huffed out short breaths.
"You're doing so good." You praised him, putting on a smile.
"Thanks." He panted. "I think I'm gonna do a couple more songs before I take a break."
"Don't overwork yourself, okay?"
"I know." He smiled softly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.
The next song started to play and he moved back to the center of the room to begin the routine. You crossed your legs and wrapped your arms around your midsection, curling in a bit in an attempt to get some relief. It seemed one of the best positions to be in during your monthly was curling up in a ball, of course, you couldn't exactly do that right now as you were sitting in a chair.
Your cramps eased up for a moment only to return a few seconds later, goosebumps rising on your skin as the air in the practice room suddenly felt cooler than it was moments before. At the same time, you felt yourself starting to sweat a bit.
Great. You groaned internally.
These were the worst kind of cramps; the ones where you're hot but you're cold at the same time, unable to find a comfortable temperature.
Halfway through the song, Yunho noticed your behavior. He caught you squeezing your eyes shut every so often, seeing an uncomfortable expression on your face and the stiffness in your posture. His dancing immediately ceased as he headed towards you, turning the music down.
"Are you okay, love? You look a little washed out." He commented, placing his hand on your forehead. "What's going on?"
"I got hit with the worst cramps ever." You groaned, giving up your act as you slumped forward in both defeat and agony.
"Oh, baby." Yunho cooed, crouching on the floor beside you, his hand rubbing your back. "Do you need some medicine?"
"I took some a few minutes ago. Just waiting for it to kick in."
"Why don't I take you home so you can rest."
"No. You need to practice."
"I've been practicing long enough. You need to be somewhere with a heating pad."
"That sounds nice." You sighed, imagining the soothing heat pressed against your aching lower abdomen.
"Let's go."
"I can't help but feel like I'm preventing you from practicing." You murmured after stepping into the elevator.
"You're not." He assured you, grabbing hold of your hand. "I wanted to get a little practice in and I did."
The last thing you wanted was to be a burden. Yunho was a famous K-pop idol whose group had a giant fanbase. He needed to practice hard and spend hours at the company to perfect and improve his dancing and performance skills. Somehow, you felt you were a distraction that would cause your boyfriend to get in trouble with the entertainment company for "slacking off".
Yunho, who could tell by the distant look in your eyes that you were lost in a whirl of troublesome and perhaps even negative thoughts, gave your hand a light squeeze, bringing you back to reality.
"Are you hungry?" He asked. "Dancing really worked up my appetite."
"Yeah." You nodded. "I had a light breakfast so I could definitely go for some food."
"Good. We can go back to the dorm and I'll order us something. You can pick whatever you want. Oh, I have a heating pad too. That should help with your cramps."
"But I don't have any... stuff there." You responded.
You had one or two menstrual items with you in your bag, but that wouldn't be enough to last you a visit at Yunho's.
"Oh. Don't worry about it. I can stop by a store on the way and buy whatever you need."
His offer was so sweet it had you falling for him all over again.
"You don't have to do all that."
"I don't mind." His round eyes sparkled with the genuine desire to help you out in any way he possibly could.
The elevator doors slid open and the both of you headed through the lobby and out onto the sidewalk where Yunho's car was parked on the curb.
At the dorm, Yunho handed you the plastic bag with the feminine products he had purchased for you on the way.
"What would you like to eat? I can go ahead and order it."
After going through a list of things you were craving, you decided on one and let Yunho know.
Just before he left the room to place the order, he stopped at the doorway. "If you want to change into something more comfortable, you have free range of my closet."
As soon as he left the room, you wasted no time scurrying over to his closet and rummaging through his shirts. What you currently had on was comfortable, but there was no way you'd pass up the opportunity to wear Yunho's clothes.
Pulling one of your favorite shirts of his from the closet, you brought it with you to the bathroom where you switched out feminine products and changed into the cozy shirt.
Yunho returned just a couple minutes later to inform you the order had been placed before rummaging through his closet, pulling out a heating pad.
"Come on." He beckoned, pulling back the covers of his bed and nodding towards the empty space.
You slid under the sheets, staring up at Yunho who worked to plug up the pad.
"You should lie down and use this while we wait on the food. Then maybe your cramps will be gone and you can fully enjoy your meal."
Your heart swelled with adoration at his words.
Yunho laid the heating pad across your stomach before resting his hand on top of it.
"How's that feel?" His gentle voice asked.
"So good." You sighed out, closing your eyes. "My cramps eased up a bit on the ride over here, but this heat is doing wonders."
"Good." The smile in Yunho's voice was evident as he leaned in, brushing your hair away from your forehead to place a gentle kiss there.
You peeled your eyes open to see Yunho grabbing his dog-shaped body pillow which he designed for his birthday merchandise.
"Here. You can hold Pudeongie."
You chuckled, taking the pillow from him and hugging it to your side. Though you preferred to cuddle with Yunho, you couldn't exactly do that with the heating pad laying over your lower abdomen.
"Thank you for taking care of me." You hummed.
"You're welcome, beautiful." He combed a hand through your hair. "I need to get a quick shower and wash all this sweat off. Then we can cuddle properly while we wait for our food."
A content smile settled onto your features. "That sounds perfect."
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𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆 | 여상 | w.c. 1,000
Twice. That's how many times you cried over a commercial that day. Why? Well, you were blaming it on your period, especially since grocery store commercials didn't normally tug at your heartstrings on a normal day. I mean, how can you possibly keep it together when there's a commercial about an animated man who's little granddaughter pulls out an old recipe book from his deceased wife that he hadn't opened in years?
You were wiping away tears that were threatening to spill when your phone chimed from its spot beside you on the couch. Flipping the device over, you were met with your boyfriend's contact photo taking up the entirety of your screen. It was a FaceTime call. Your thumb swiped to accept the call, holding the phone up so he could see you.
"Hi, angel." He flashed that heart-melting smile of his, waving to the camera.
Judging by the background, he was at his dorm in his bedroom.
"Hi, Sangie."
His large eyes suddenly became sad, worried even, while his lips stuck into a pout. "Were you crying? Are you okay?"
"Oh." You glanced at yourself in the camera, noticing the slightly glossy look your eyes were currently sporting.
It wasn't super obvious that you had been tearing up, but Yeosang was always so perceptive when it came to you.
"My emotions are all crazy. I got choked up watching a commercial." You chuckled, finding it a bit humorous.
"So you're not sad?" He wanted to be certain that you weren't upset.
"No." You laughed softly. "Just hormonal."
Yeosang's brows raised, his eyes becoming wider in sudden realization. Then came the flood of questions.
"Do you need anything? Are you hurting? Should I pick up some pads? Tampons? Do you have enough pain relievers? Are you drinking lots of water? I heard being active helps cramps. Have you been active? Are you taking vitamins? There are supplements that help ease period symptoms. Should I get you some of those?"
"I'm fine, Yeosang." You cut in before he could continue, chuckling endearingly at his concerned rambling. "I'm not hurting too bad. It's only the third day so my cramps aren't too bad. They come and go, but they're not as severe as they were on day one. Yes I'm drinking water, maybe not enough, but I'm drinking it. And I've been lounging on the couch since I got out of bed."
"Ah. Sorry. I guess I got carried away." That tiny, shy smile of his made its appearance as he rubbed the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. "Have you been eating fruits or something healthy?"
You nearly snorted. "Actually, I've been indulging in some of the cravings I've been having." You lifted a bag of your favorite chips to the camera. "So, what are you up to?"
"I called because I don't have a schedule today and I wanted to see if you'd like to hang out."
Just the thought of spending time with Yeosang made your heart soar with excitement.
"I would love to."
"Since you're on your period, I'll come to your place. If that's okay with you."
"Yeah." You nodded. "That's perfect, actually."
"Okay." He beamed. "I'll start making my way right now."
"I'll be waiting." You waved. "Love you."
"Love you too."
The FaceTime ended and you tossed your phone back to the couch cushion, briefly considering wether or not you should leave your comfortable spot on the sofa and put some makeup on. It didn't take long for you to to completely disregard the idea. After all, you had just FaceTimed him and he saw your makeup-free (and slightly blemished) face so there was no need covering it up.
A gentle knock on your front door sounded just fifteen minutes after your call with Yeosang. You leapt from your seat and scurried to answer the door. The man you had been longing to see stepped inside, wrapping his arms around you in a cozy embrace while he gently rocked the both of you side to side.
"I'm so happy to see you."
"I'm happy to see you too, precious." He pulled away, gazing at you with those sparkly, brown eyes of his. "Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm cramping, but it's nothing too bad. Not right now, anyway."
"You sure?"
"Mhm."
"What do you feel like doing?"
"Well, I was watching TV on the couch but I'd kind of like to lie down."
"Okay then we'll cuddle in bed and have a movie marathon."
You hummed in agreement and tugged Yeosang further into your home, guiding him to your bedroom where the both of you got comfortable under the covers.
Your boyfriend had barely gotten situated before you were resting your head on his chest and snuggling into his side.
It was a blessing that Yeosang wanted to come over because it's exactly what you needed at that moment. Being cuddled up next to him made your heart swell and provided you with a cozy feeling in your chest.
"What would you like to watch?" He reached for the remote.
"Actually, do you think you could sing to me?"
Yeosang stiffened just the slightest bit, clearly not expecting the request.
"Of course. Any song suggestions?"
"Whatever you want to sing." You murmured, snuggling further into his chest.
A gentle smile graced Yeosang's statuesque features as he began singing a current favorite song of his. His fingers ran through your hair in a gentle and soothing manner, your eyes fluttering closed in response as you listened to his silky voice, which was doing a great job at distracting you from your cramps that were thankfully going away on their own, albeit slowly.
Yeosang's voice was heavenly. From his low register to his faint lisp that could be heard in his singing. It all had your heart doing somersaults in your chest.
"So beautiful." You murmured sleepily, as Yeosang's gentle ministrations were making you drowsy. "Thank you, Yeo."
This was all you needed.
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𝐒𝐀𝐍 | 산 | w.c. 1,400
4 AM. That's what time you were finally able to get to sleep the night before. It was that time of the month and your incessant cramps were so bad not even Midol could fix it. You were miserable. Normally, you could ignore any mild cramps that would inconveniently hit just as you were going to bed, but these were the kind that kept you awake, the pain just a little too intense for you to relax, leaving you tossing and turning for hours on end. Between the cramps and having to get up to pee every five minutes, there was no way you could rest.
It was after barely after 4 AM when your cramps eased up just enough for you to relax and finally doze off.
Presently, it was 12 PM, which meant you got a decent eight hours of sleep, even though your body felt like it needed just a smidge more.
You pushed yourself out of bed, giving a brief glance at the fitted sheet wrapped around the mattress to make sure you didn't have any overnight leaks. With no stains in sight, you shuffled to the bathroom where you went through your usual routine and freshened up, which woke you up a bit and made you feel a little less crappy.
You swapped your PJs for some loose-fitting sweats and one of your boyfriend's shirts that he left at your place before heading to the living room to turn on the television. After a few moments of mindless channel surfing, you found a show that grabbed your attention and decided to watch.
It didn't take long for your cramps to start up again. The ache, while annoying, wasn't anything too unbearable, not like last night, anyway. So you ignored it, sinking further into the couch cushions while keeping your eyes locked on the TV.
You made it through the remainder of the episode before the cramps really ramped up, the sudden increase in pain and discomfort causing you to lurch forward.
Your face contorted in agony, the sharp jabs in your abdomen leading you to jump to your feet and make a beeline for the kitchen where the medicine was kept. You tore open the cabinet and located the pain medicine you so desperately needed. Since your cramps were just as bad as they were in the early morning hours, you took two pills, assuring you'd get the minimum amount of pain relief.
With a hot pack laid across your lower abdominal area, you settled back into the couch cushions and proceeded to watch television, doing your best to focus on the show. Sometimes having a distraction helped to take your attention off the wrath Mother Nature was thrusting upon your uterus.
At some point, you unconsciously started rocking back and forth, partially hunched over. The heat paired with the movement seemed to be helping just a little, however now a very thin layer of sweat covered your forehead and on your shirt where the hot pack was pressed against your abdomen was a damp spot. You huffed, pulling off the hot pack to fan your shirt a bit and cool off. That only caused a wave of goosebumps to rise along your skin, the air in your home being a little too cold for your linking. So you laid the hot pack back across your abdomen. This went back and forth for the next ten minutes or so, only adding to your frustration and discomfort.
"Ha. Ha. I love being a woman." You commented dryly to no one at all, wrapping your arms around your midsection.
You probably looked pathetic all crumpled up and curled in on yourself but you were in the privacy of your own home and you were in extreme pain. You'd do whatever it took to get it to go away.
The stabbing cramps had gotten so bad in such a short amount of time. Your brain was in a haze and all you could think about was the pain. Just when you felt you had reached your limit, your phone rang.
Fumbling for the device, you lifted it to see who was calling. It was San, your loving boyfriend whom you were suddenly missing very much. You accepted the call and raised the phone to your ear.
"Hello, gorgeous." His silky voice came through the speaker.
"Hi, Sannie." You did your best to sound cheery, but the greeting came out as a sort of pained grunt.
"Are you okay?" The pout in his voice was evident.
"No. Not really." You answered honestly. "I'm on my period."
A tiny gasp was heard on his end followed by an, "Oh no."
"Yeah."
"You poor thing." He cooed. "Why don't I come take care of you."
"That would be great."
"I'll be over there as soon as I can, baby."
Less than 20 minutes later, there was a knock at your door which had your heart jumping for joy. As soon as you opened the door, San walked in and pulled you into a hug.
"Hi dear." He murmured as he stroked the top of your head. "Are you hurting?"
"Very much so."
"Ah." He nodded knowingly as you parted ways. "I know what I have to do."
He balled his hands into fists, crouching down at bit so he was level with your lower abdomen. Before you had the chance to question what he was doing, he began to punch the area where your uterus was, stopping right in front of it because, well, he would never actually hit you.
"Stop!" He demanded sharply, going in for another punch. "Stop it."
The phrase was uttered during each strike of his fist, his words being punctuated by his actions.
The chuckles that had begun to spill from your lips were now turning into full on laughter as your boyfriend continued punching at your lower abdomen, demanding that it "stop".
"Thank you, Sannie." You giggled.
The both of you made yourselves comfortable on the couch where San immediately wrapped his arms around you and held you close.
"If you need anything, let me know."
"Okay." You tittered softly.
Having San with you provided a good enough distraction to take your mind off the discomfort in your abdominal area. He would make comments about something on TV and ask questions to help keep you occupied with things besides period pains.
At some point, you stood up and excused yourself to go switch feminine products, doing so in just a couple minutes.
It was only when you were returning to the living room that you realized your abdominal cramps had gone away but a persistent, dull ache had become present in your lower back.
Your face twitched slightly as you shuffled towards the couch, catching your always observant boyfriend's attention.
"What is it?" He asked.
"I'm having cramps in my back."
"You have period cramps in your back?" San asked in disbelief.
"Sometimes." You sighed, unconsciously massaging your lower spine.
Your boyfriend was baffled. San knew periods could be a pain and there were lots of symptoms that varied in intensity, but this was crazy. Why would you get pain in other areas? He didn't think that was very fair.
"Come here." San took your hands, leading you to your bedroom where he insisted you lie down on your stomach.
You did as he asked, getting yourself comfortable on the mattress before feeling it dip under San's weight.
"Tell me where it hurts." His hands placed themselves on your spine.
"Lower."
His palms slid further down your back.
"Right there."
San's thumbs rubbed over the muscles a few times, making long upward strokes as he applied pressure on the sore spots. A sigh passed through your slightly parted lips as relief washed over you.
"Is that good?" He inquired tentatively.
"So good."
San hated that this was something you had to deal with every month. Even though that's just how things were and he couldn't do anything about it, it didn't seem fair.
"I'm sorry you're feeling so icky, pretty."
"I'm far from pretty right now." You chuckled.
"Not true."
His ministrations came to a halt as you lifted your head just enough to glance back at him.
"I'm serious." He insisted with a pout.
"You're too sweet." You dropped your head back onto the pillow as he continued massaging.
"Only for you, lovely."
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𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈 | 민기 | w.c. 900
If there was one thing about your period, it was that it showed up at the most inconvenient time.
Mingi's body moved with such fluidity that it had you mesmerized—hypnotized, even. His body control was out of this world and never failed to hold your attention. His oversized sleeveless tee hung off his slim figure, the thin fabric swinging about as he danced with rigor and passion. His movements were so intense sometimes that the hem of his shirt would fly up and reveal his tiny waist and smooth stomach. The sight was a small blessing to your eyes and just another perk of watching him get in an extra practice session on his weekend off. His brows were pulled together in concentration, his sharp eyes fixed on his reflection, inspecting his own movements. He had no idea you were practically drooling over him in the corner of the room.
You were having a wonderful time when suddenly you felt it... the gush.
Right away, you sat upright and pushed yourself up from your seat, standing stiffly in place.
This abrupt and unusual reaction caught Mingi's attention almost immediately and had him scrambling to pause the music.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I just need to go to the bathroom." You excused yourself and headed straight for the practice room door, trying your best to walk normally instead of the usual stiff-legged hobble you would be doing if you were at home.
You had started your period the day prior and it was already in full swing, hitting you with all it had. This morning before you left, everything was light, so you assumed this time around you'd ease into it, but you were so very wrong.
In the bathroom, you closed the stall door behind you, making sure to lock it before taking a seat to assess the damage.
"Oh boy." You whispered under your breath, reaching for your bag and rummaging for an extra pad in the inner side zipper. Empty.
Oh no.
Normally, you had extra feminine hygiene products with you, however, it seemed this time you had forgotten to replace them.
Great.
After washing your hands, you returned to the practice room, shifting from one foot to the other. It appeared that Mingi hadn't moved since you left the room, his normally narrow eyes now round with worry.
"Is everything okay?"
"Uh." You rubbed the back of your neck.
Just say it. It's a normal thing, Y/n. You reminded yourself. There's nothing to be embarrassed about.
"I don't have any pads with me." You confessed embarrassedly.
Mingi blinked owlishly a few times, not quite understanding what you meant.
You gave a vague nod down towards your lower half, trying to communicate without saying it outright.
Mingi's eyes became wider in realization.
"Ohh!"
"Yeah." You sighed. "I forgot to put more in my bag and I need one... like right now."
You were about to apologize for needing to leave so abruptly so you could take care of the problem when Mingi spoke up.
"Stay here. I'll go find you one."
"What?" You questioned, your eyes following him as he hurriedly exited the practice room.
Without receiving a response, you dropped down into the chair you occupied before your hasty exit moments earlier, waiting patiently for your boyfriend to return.
Mingi moved down the halls of KQ, searching for any staff that may be nearby. He popped his head into empty offices and meeting rooms, turning corners and scouring the place for any employees wandering about. The entertainment company had many staff members, so it shouldn't be that hard.
He came upon one of the lounges, poking his head into the room to find two female staff members having a quick snack together.
"Excuse me." He spoke timidly, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed to ask for feminine products. "Do either of you happen to have any... pads?"
He was quick to put himself back in place, reminding himself that he was helping you out.
You were his girlfriend and if you needed a pad then gosh darn it he was going to get one for you, embarrassed or not.
"Oh. I'm sorry I don't." One of the women apologized.
"I do, but I left my bag in my office on the next floor." The other responded.
"Ah."
Mingi didn't want to inconvenience the woman, especially since she probably had a busy schedule so he thanked them both and left, continuing his search.
He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth while his eyes darted around, reading the labels on each door that lined the hall in search of his next place to check.
After three tries, Mingi was able to get you a pad, which he hoped was enough to sustain you for the duration of his solo practice.
Your boyfriend reentered the practice room, holding up the plastic-wrapped square like it was a trophy.
"I got it."
You plucked the item from his hand, pulling him into a hug.
"You didn't have to do that. I was just gonna go to a nearby store and buy some."
"I knew I could find one quicker by asking around."
You smiled softly. "Thank you."
"Of course." He brushed your hair out of your face. "You feeling alright?"
"For now."
"If you need to go home, just let me know."
"I will. Thanks, Mingi."
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𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 | 우영 | w.c. 980
You stepped down the aisle that housed all the feminine products you could ever need, Wooyoung coming to a stop beside you as you eyed the pad and tampon section.
"So what size pu—"
"Don't even finish that sentence." You cut him off, raising your hand to stop him. "I don't want to hear that phrase or that word come out of your mouth."
"Yes ma'am." He saluted.
Huffing, you proceeded further down the aisle until you found what you were looking for.
While scanning the different sizes of products available on the shelves, your ever curious boyfriend wandered up and down the aisle to keep himself busy.
Once you acquired what you were looking for, you turned to see Wooyoung holding a box of tampons, examining the packaging.
"You put these inside you?" He asked in disbelief.
"Woo, put those back."
He did as he was told, his face twisted in either disgust or discomfort, you couldn't tell, as he did so.
"Alright. I've got everything I need." You announced, preparing to head to the register until you realized Wooyoung stayed put, staring with furrowed brows at the plethora of feminine products lining the shelves.
"What is it?"
"Why are there so many?" He asked. "How do you even know what to get?"
"It all depends on what you're comfortable with. Some people prefer tampons, others prefer pads."
"Okay but the pictures on these are different." He pointed to a section of pads.
"Right. Some have wings so the pad stays in place and doesn't squish up and some don't. Again, that's all depending on personal preference. Some pads are thin while others are thick so they can absorb more. They vary in size as well. Some people like longer pads so they don't have a leak while they're sleeping or lying down."
Wooyoung's eyes remained wide, his brows pulled together as he soaked in all this new information, scanning over each plastic package.
"How do you know if you need thin pads or thick ones?"
"That depends on your flow."
"Flow?" He echoed.
You did not expect to be having an in-depth conversation about periods with your boyfriend in the middle of the feminine hygiene aisle but there you were.
Then again, he grew up with brothers. Of course he wouldn't know everything about a woman's menstrual cycle. Also you didn't think that was something that a mother would talk to her son about, especially in detail.
"You know how you can barely turn a faucet on and the water runs just a little, but when you turn it more, a lot of water comes out?"
He nodded.
"That's how it is with periods."
"So you can turn it off?"
"Unfortunately not. That's why we need these things." You gestured to the array of feminine products. "What I mean is, with some people their flow is heavy while others are lighter, so you buy products according to that."
"It's not the same for everyone?"
"Not at all. Some people have very heavy flows. I've even heard of people buying bladder leak pads because they're more absorbent."
"It gets that bad?" Wooyoung gaped.
"Mhm." You nodded.
"And it's the same for the other things too?"
"Tampons."
"Right. That."
"Yes. They've got different sizes according to your flow as well."
"Wow. That's so complicated."
"Not when you've lived with it most of your life." You chuckled. "Let's go."
"Girls get cravings for chocolate when they're on their period, right?" Wooyoung asked as the both of you made your way towards the front of the store.
"It's not always chocolate, but yes. Cravings tend to happen." You responded.
"What do you usually crave?" He asked.
"Usually sweet stuff, but it differs."
"Should I get you some?"
Your expression softened as you looked at him, seeing the genuine care in his eyes.
"Sure."
"Come on then. Let's go see what they have." Wooyoung took hold of your free hand, pulling you towards the snack aisle which was packed with junk food and sweets.
You perused the shelves, trying to figure out what sounded good at the moment.
"Pick whatever you want." Wooyoung told you. "My treat."
That made you stop. "What?"
"Your period stuff, snacks, I'll pay for all of it."
For someone who was making period jokes earlier, he sure was being sweet.
You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek, thanking him for his thoughtful offer.
On the way home, you decided to tease Wooyoung since he barely knew anything about periods, curious to see his reaction to a particular prank you'd seen circulating the internet.
"Did you know pads and tampons come in different flavors?"
Wooyoung's eyes widened. "Flavors?"
"Yeah. Didn't you notice the colors and pictures on the packaging?"
"Yes."
"The color is whatever flavor they are. Green is green apple, purple is grape, pink is strawberry and so on."
"Wait really?"
"Yeah."
"Why? What's the point?"
You shrugged, holding back a grin.
"Are you being serious right now? Do they really have flavors?"
"No." You laughed, throwing your head back as you let loose a string of cackles.
"Y/n, that's so mean." Wooyoung pouted. "I almost believed you."
"Sorry." You laughed. "I just wanted to see if I could get by with it."
"I bought you snacks." His full lips were stuck out as he spoke, his arms crossed over his chest.
"I was just teasing, love." You nudged him.
Unable to keep up his act any longer, Wooyoung cracked a small smile.
"That was pretty good, actually."
"I know." You grinned.
"I think you should make it up to me though"
"How?" Your eyes narrowed, wondering what sort of deal he was preparing to strike up.
"Play video games with me when we get home."
A smiled made its way onto your face at his proposal. "I think that can be arranged."
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𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎 | 종호 | w.c. 1,050
The sunlight that seeped in through the window hit your closed eyelids, the intrusion pulling you from your sleep just enough to make you aware of it. You rolled over in bed keeping your eyes shut, snuggling further into your plush pillow. As you slowly began to wake, you stretched your arm across the bed, reaching for Jongho only to be met with an empty space, the palm of your hand hitting the sheets that were crumpled from being haphazardly tossed back into place. The lack of his presence made you frown, sitting up on your elbow while searching the room.
All thoughts of your temporarily missing boyfriend flew right out the bedroom window as a sticky and somewhat uncomfortable feeling below caught your attention. The all too familiar heart-stopping feeling was something you knew well. Without wasting another second, you shot up out of bed, jerking back the covers to find an ugly, red stain on the fitted sheet.
"No, no, no, no, no." You murmured the same word over and over again in a panic.
This was Jongho's bed and it was his sheets you'd just ruined.
"Crap." You hissed, rushing to your bag to grab an extra pair of underwear and fresh pants, taking your toiletry bag with you as you slipped into the bathroom to clean yourself up. While in the bathroom, you managed to get most of the bloodstain off your panties thanks to some cold water and hand soap, which seemed to do the trick. The process was repeated for your pajama bottoms.
Once you were finished, you went back to Jongho's room and promptly stripped his bed, wadding your stained underwear and pajama pants up with them.
You weren't sure where Jongho was, but you hoped you could make it to the laundry room without being noticed.
The universe must've been against you because as soon as you stepped out of the bedroom, Jongho was standing there in the hallway.
"Jongho." You uttered his name dumbly.
"Y/n, you're awake." He smiled softly, his eyes dropping down to the crumpled wad of fabric in your arms. "Why do you have the sheets?"
"I sweat pretty bad last night." You lied. "I didn't want to leave your sheets stinky so I'm going to wash them."
"Oh. You don't have to do that. I can wash them."
You pulled the heap away from him just as he reached out to take them from you. "It's okay. I got it. Really."
He held his hands up in surrender. "Alright."
You hurried past him and into the laundry room, lying the sheet across the top of the washer and dryer along with your underwear and pajama bottoms as you rummaged through Jongho's detergent to see if he had a stain stick or something to pretreat the splotch before tossing it into the wash.
You pushed past bleach, fabric softener, and laundry scent crystals, but you couldn't seem to find any stain remover.
Jongho heard your noisy rummaging from the other room, going to check on you and see if you needed any help. When he stepped into the laundry room he saw his sheets laid out, a dark red stain standing out against the gray fabric. Along with it was your panties and the pair of pajama bottoms you had worn to bed the night before, an equally as noticeable stain on them as well.
Your eyes were blown wide like a deer in the headlights as embarrassment and mortification hit you like a massive wave, your entire face set on fire due to the situation.
Not only had Jongho seen the ugly stain you left on his (probably expensive) sheets, but your underwear and pajama bottoms as well.
You should have moved. You should have scrambled to grab your panties and hidden them behind your back, but you were completely frozen in place, unable to move. As if that wasn't bad enough, you could feel what was sure to be a painful series of cramps coming on in your lower abdomen.
Jongho's eyes met yours and you let loose, sputtering what could only be classified as word vomit.
"I'm so sorry I ruined your sheets. I promise I'll get the stain out. I know it's gross and it's embarrassing."
"It's not gross." He responded, his expression showing no disgust whatsoever. "You can't control it."
"What?"
Jongho shrugged. "It's only natural."
You couldn't ignore the way your heart thumped. Of course Jongho wouldn't think something like this was a big deal. You should've known better. Nothing ever phased him.
Jongho's eyes drifted back over to the sheets on the washer where your undergarment was still laid out for him to see.
"Don't look at those." You stepped in front of your unmentionables to block his view.
"Why?" He chuckled amusedly. "It's just underwear. You've seen mine before."
"That's because you don't know how to keep your room clean and they're tossed on the floor."
"Touché. But it's still just underwear. No big deal." He stepped forward, rubbing the top of your head. "You're worrying too much, pretty."
You huffed softly, sticking out your bottom lip in reluctant defeat.
"Now let's take care of these sheets. What were you looking for in here?"
"Something to pretreat the stain."
"Ah." Jongho moved over to his laundry products, pulling out a spray bottle. "I believe this is what you were searching for. This should do the trick. I've used it to get coffee stains out of my clothes plenty of times. Works like a charm."
"Thanks." You took the bottle from him and sprayed the stains on everything before tossing them into the washing machine.
"I'll start the wash." Jongho volunteered, messing with the settings and starting the laundry cycle.
He came up and rubbed your back soothingly.
"You feeling alright?"
"For now. The cramps haven't started up yet, but I'm sure they will."
"If they do, I've got a heating pad you can use."
Your gaze softened while a gentle smile graced your features. "Thank you."
"Of course." He stroked your hair in a caring manner. "Are you hungry? You want anything to eat?"
"Some breakfast sounds nice."
"Alright. I'll make you your favorite." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You just sit and I'll make it."
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assassinsblade · 4 months
Text
Arrows and Ashes | 3
Azriel's determined to help you get better. You are determined that you are fine.
WC: 3.6k
Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, injuries, fluff, some brief unhealthy coping, self-deprecation.
a/n: If you would like notifications for my writing, you can turn on notifications for the blog @assassinslibrary where I reblog all my fics!
Part 1 Part 2
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Azriel couldn't sleep. All night, he stayed by your side, watching your back rise and fall with each breath. He counted them, making sure you were getting enough air, that you were alive and well. And when that didn’t quell the pounding of his heart and the trembling of his hands, he moved closer and listened for the air leaving your lungs and the heartbeat in your chest.
He tried to read to pass the time, picking up the book he had brought in from your bedroom. But the words refused to sink into his brain, and he found himself unable to focus on anything other than you.
Any time his eyes wavered from your form, anxiety pooled in his chest. His eyelids had even become heavy with sleep, but he forced them open again, his shadows swirling around him in irritation.
He realized while sitting in silence that this was the first time you had been in his bedroom for more than a few minutes. He had known you for centuries, since he had been a child, yet he kept his room very private. You would enter occasionally when dropping something off to him, calling him down for dinner, needing to tell him something, or asking him to accompany you somewhere. But spending a longer amount of time together? Normally that occurred outside of either of your bedrooms.
Now, as you laid in his bed, your hair fanned out on the pillow, Azriel couldn’t help but feel like you were meant to be there. You occupied this space like it was your own, despite the aesthetic contrasting so deeply with your vibrant personality. It made something warm pool in his chest, a feeling that reminded him of coming home after a mission or falling asleep after a long day. A feeling he had pushed down until the past few days. One he had tried to ignore out of fear.
A soft groan pulled him out of his thoughts, and he immediately sat up straighter, his heart faltering.
You started to roll over to face away from the wall, your body moving toward him instead. But Azriel jumped to his feet, laying his hands gently on your arm to keep you from turning onto your back.
“Don’t move too much.”
His voice came out as a whisper, as if the volume could pierce you and cause you more pain.
“Azriel?”
“It’s me,” he clarified, scarred fingers stroking soft circles on your bicep. “I’m here.”
You swallowed, and he could feel your body start to tremble beneath his touch. Adrenaline shakes, he surmised -- your body still recovering from the pain and trauma it suddenly endured.
“You don’t have to say anything. You’re in my room, you’re safe. You’ve just been resting.”
Blinking as if trying to orient yourself, you tried to turn again. His strong hands kept you in place.
“Could you-“ you coughed lightly. “Could you help me turn? I want to see you.”
One of his hands moved beneath your knees and the other cradled your back, just beneath your wounds. He lifted you from the bed slightly, moving your body toward him before releasing your legs and encouraging you to turn on your right side to face him, keeping pressure off your back.
When he finally released his hands, his hazel eyes stared into your own.
“Hi,” you whispered.
“Hey,” he spoke softly in return. His fingers gently moved your hair behind your ear.
Your eyes traced his face in silence before you finally moved your gaze away from him, noting where you were.
“Your bed is cozy.”
Azriel had to control his facial expression so as not to reveal his confusion and concern. That was the first thing you thought upon waking?
He gave you a soft smile instead. “Can I get you anything?”
You shook your head, burying yourself further into the blankets. “No, I’m okay.”
There was no way.
But you didn't elaborate and seemed content enough to stay laying there in silence, no acknowledgement of the life-altering event that had occurred to you.
Azriel didn’t like this at all. He had expected you to wake up in pain, whimpering, asking for him or Cassian or Rhys. For you to have been in a panic over your wings, sobbing and mourning them. He had been prepared to comfort you and hold you and explain how you were safe and that those males had been torn to pieces for hurting you.
But you were acting like nothing had even happened.
It was unnerving, and the shadowsinger for once had no read on the situation.
He eyed you carefully. “I’m going to have to change your bandages in a bit.”
You stiffened, your body tensing at his words before relaxing, your eyes feigning nonchalance.
“Later,” you challenged, closing your eyes again. “Is everyone coming for dinner?”
Azriel couldn’t mask his uncertainty over the situation, his brows furrowed and fingers twitching at his sides. “I’m not sure. Are you hungry?”
“You know I’d never turn down something sweet. Do we have any of those chocolate croissants from our cafe?”
“I’ll check. If not, I’ll have Rhys bring you some.”
You smiled, and he stood from where he was sitting by your form, looking at you one last time before crossing the threshold into the hallway so he can check for something to appease your unexpected sweet tooth.
Your entire behavior was unexpected. You wanted to eat. You were smiling. Not at all hinting at the trauma you had been through.
Azriel’s job was to inflict torture onto those in the dungeons (among other tasks). He knew the trauma it caused — the pain, the nightmares, the way it would permanently break some fae. He wasn’t sure if what had happened had not caught up to you yet, if you were in shock still, or if you were pretending to be okay, unwilling to show weakness in front of him.
Both possibilities made something twist in his stomach.
He forced his feet to move away from where you curled up in bed, shutting the door softly behind him and making his way to the kitchen. It was empty still, save for the bundles of daisies Rhys had dropped off at Azriel’s request. The high lord hadn’t questioned the order for the flowers, only leaving a note with them that said they all love you.
The two large bouquets looked silly now to the shadowsinger. Of course, he was hoping they would make you happy based on your past joy from flowers, but with everything that happened? They seemed so small in comparison.
He shook the thoughts from his head, instead looking around the counters and cabinets for any sign of your favorite treats. When he found none, he wrote a letter to Rhys seeing if he could deliver some of those chocolate croissants per your request. Once the high lord knew you were awake, he would probably do just about anything you asked.
Azriel sighed in defeat, bringing one of the bouqets back to the room with him so he wasn’t empty-handed.
He paused outside of the door, trying to settle his nerves. His shadows only swirled around him in agitation, and he tried to soothe them back to his sides. Only when he went to shush them, though, did he realize why they were unsettled.
A quiet whimper sounded from the other side of the door, followed by a sniffle and a small choked sob.
Azriel immediately opened the door, not hesitating to knock or make sure you were decent. His eyes scanned the room hurriedly, noting the tossed blankets on his bed and the light spilling from the bathroom.
He walked into the entryway, body instinctually turning toward your presence, guiding him toward the cracked door on the left. You shouldn’t be out of bed without assistance, and he definitely didn’t want you to be in there crying alone. He quickly placed the flowers on the desk next to the door before he peered into the open doorway, eyes immediately drawn to your red rimmed ones. You weren’t looking at him, though. Your eyes were turned over your bare shoulder, looking at the reflection of your back in the mirror.
Your back. Azriel's stomach dropped at the sight.
He hadn’t seen it all cleaned up without the bandages yet. It was still somehow just as gruesome as when it was splayed open and bloody on that table.
The wounds were large. Crescent-shaped and still healing. They were deep, gouged into the skin, and anyone else would look at them and call them ugly, an eye-sore, a blemish marking what would have been beautiful skin. Not Azriel, though. Never Azriel. Not when he still ran his own fingers along his scarred palms when nervous.
He slowly inched the door open further, the movement catching your eye and causing you to quickly turn your back to him, your arms crossing to cover your bare chest.
It was silent, your startled eyes searching his own for some sort of reaction. Did you expect him to be disgusted by your? By your scars?
In a way, he was. He didn't think you were disgusting in any way, but the act that was committed against you, the pain you had gone through in those moments, Cassian's memories still flashing in his mind -- that was what disgusted him.
You swallowed, and Azriel was moving before you could say something. He walked around you in a way that was cautious but attempting to be casual as to not put you on edge. He didn't face your back right away, especially as he felt you stiffen as he passed your side, and instead reached toward the counter where one of Madja's creams sat.
Unscrewing the lid, he finally made his presence known close behind you, pausing to let you breathe through your nerves before gently moving the hair that had fallen back over your shoulder. You shivered at the movement, but you didn't flee. You didn't tell him no.
So he gently dipped his fingers into the medicine, bringing it carefully up to the first of your wounds, still red and angry and glaring at him as if he were an enemy. He so very gently covered one edge with the white substance. You flinched at the feeling but still said nothing, so he continued, holding his breath and waiting for you to either lash out or break down.
Neither came though.
You stood still as can be, letting him apply the cream and dress your wounds, even taking the wrap from him and around your front to help hold the gauze in place. When he finally finished, he pulled your hair back from where it laid over your shoulder, letting it flow beautifully down your back, no longer suffocating the space by your neck. Then he walked back around to your front, meeting your gaze immediately and refusing to let it go.
Azriel tried to read what you were thinking, what you were feeling. But you only blinked away the remaining tears as if you were breaking out of a stupor.
You stood up taller, putting a faux smile on your face. "No chocolate croissants? I'm disappointed, Shadowsinger. You know Cassian wouldn't have returned without them."
A sharp pain twisted in his chest at your deflection, at your so obvious false display of contentment.
"Daisy-" he started, voice low and quiet.
"Why don't we go pick some up? You can use your shadows to get us to the gate right?"
"Daisy-"
You made your way toward the door, stumbling and moving slowly with your body's new imbalance and soreness. "Then you can go see everyone else. You shouldn't have to babysit-"
"Daisy."
You halted at his tone. The strong, demanding voice filled with such concern and care.
"You don't have to do this," he said.
He couldn't see your face, but he could almost picture your haunted look as you took a moment to collect yourself, your voice shaking when you finally spoke.
"Do what?"
"Pretend." He sighed. "You don't have to pretend with me."
Taking a deep breath, you shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to say."
"You don't have to say anything. I just want you to feel what you need to feel. You have been through a lot, and it's not good for you to just pretend like it didn't happen."
He walked closer to you, approaching you from behind, but you whirled around before he could get too close, gripping the doorway to stop yourself from stumbling.
"Of course I can't pretend like nothing happened. My wings are gone, Azriel. They are gone. My back feels like its been shredded -- like someone took me down to the butcher in Velaris to play with. And every day I will see those scars, feel those scars. I will watch as Rhys, Cassian, and you all fly, and I will forever be grounded. I will never again feel the wind in my hair or leap from the balcony. My body is changed; half of who I am has been taken from me, so I'm sorry if I don't know who I'm supposed to be after that."
By the end of your outburst, you were breathing heavy, choking on sobs that threatened to come up. Azriel watched as you swayed, your still healing and exhausted body needing rest, and he stepped closer.
"You aren't supposed to be anyone," he started, tears filling his own eyes. "You will always be Daisy, no one can take that away."
When he reached where you were standing, you shook your head, backing up into the bedroom as tears began to fall down your cheeks.
"You don't understand-"
"You're right. I could never understand. But I still want to help. Let me help, please."
"You can't help me. You can't go back in time or reattach my wings. I’m no longer me, I’m ruined.”
Azriel lunged forward at your words, propelled by something deep in his chest to correct you, to defend the sweet girl in front of him. His eyes were wild with hurt as he grasped your face between his palms, guiding your teary eyes to his own.
“Don’t you dare say that. You are the same girl who walked out of this house days ago. You are strong and brave and selfless, and everything you have lost is proof of that. You are not ruined, you are everything.”
You only looked at him, lip quivering as you tried to listen to him and hold back your sobs.
You shook your head slightly. “I’ll never be able to fly with you again.”
“I’ll take you.” Azriel vowed, voice deep and resolute. “I will carry you wherever you’d like.”
“I can’t even walk balanced-”
“My shadows will help support you while you recover. I will help support you.”
You looked away from him, tears filling your eyes once again. The words that came next were small, insecure. "No one will want me like this."
It took Azriel a few seconds to realize what you meant, because he could never dream of not wanting you. They all had trauma and nightmares, but you were referencing your scars, your forever-marked body. Madja had been able to close the wounds, but the worst ones had scarred. The lashings that had become infected in those dungeons had scarred. Only days ago you had been scar free save for a few. Not, you had hills and valleys of rough textured skin on your back, abdomen, thighs...
And you were the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Every scar a testament to your love and devotion to your family, a testament to your strength. He wanted more than just you, he wanted to worship you. He wanted to lay you down and cater to your every need, to massage and kiss every inch of your healing body, to show you just how beautiful he found you.
He swallowed, passion and an overwhelming amount of love filling his chest. It nearly ached. He directed you to look at him again. Nearly commanded it with his grip on you.
"I want you. In every form, in every life, in every universe. You are everything."
His words were strong, confident, and warm. He was pleading with you to believe him, to see and hear the truth that was right there.
You looked at him, studied him. Azriel knew your teary eyes were watching closely for a crack in his resolute stance. You would find none, though.
Eventually you sniffed, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you asked in a sweet but broken voice, "What if your mate had these faults?"
Azriel didn't even have time to be shocked at the question, because he was immediately retaliating against your self-deprecation. "They are not faults. They are a part of you, of your story, and of your selflessness. They encompass so much of your beautiful heart in them, they could never be a fault."
The insinuation made him angry, but he tried to tamp down those feelings. You needed reassurance, not a reprimand.
You didn't even flinch at his response. Instead, you held his gaze and tried to cover the meekness making its way into your voice by standing up straighter. Azriel held you firm, steadying your balance with his shadows and his own feet against yours.
"And you'd still be saying this? If it was your mate?"
He was surprised the question didn't have that much of an effect on him. Anyone else bringing up mates normally had him tensing, snapping, getting defensive and changing the subject. From you though, It was comforting. Natural.
"Especially if it was my mate. But they would be able to feel all of this from me too. I would make sure they always knew they were wanted. I'd tell them everyday how beautiful they are, I'd get them sweet foods to make them feel better, I'd surprise them with flowers..."
As if the words summoned your eyes to them, he saw you see the giant bouquet of daisies sitting on his desk by the door. Your eyes widened slightly, your brows furrowing and chest rising a bit more rapidly. Azriel tightened his grip on you to steady you further.
He tilted his head to bring your gaze back to his own. "You are wanted, Daisy. I loved you before this, and I love you now. I will continue to love you always. Because you are you."
His words cracked something within you, because the next thing he knew, he was catching your weight against him. Your cheek pressed against his chest and your arms wrapped around his back, and then you were letting out such a heart-wrenching sob that Azriel immediately held you as tight as he could. He wished he could take all of the pain away, all of the haunting memories and nightmares. Any threats or fears, he vowed to fight them for you. Do anything until a smile was back on your pretty face.
"I want you too. I love you too," you mumbled into his chest.
It was only a few minutes before your sniffs subsided, and you pulled back with red splotchy cheeks and swollen eyes, skin wet with tears. Azriel cleared the hair from your face, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"You're my mate."
The words were so quiet, Azriel almost missed them.
But he couldn't. How could he? Mate, you had said. Him.
He was shocked enough at the acknowledgement of a physical bond between the two of you that he probably looked absurd, but he wasn't that shocked at the Cauldron deeming you two well-suited. After all, he had cared for you as more than a friend for months now, even if he had tried not to acknowledge it in fear of rejection.
He breathed, allowing his love for you to fill his veins, fill his very heart and soul. And then he met your sparkling eyes, still slightly watery from minutes prior.
And he felt it.
Deep within his chest, it's presence slowly becoming more prominent, was a golden thread. A tether that thrummed inside of him and brought him to you. A tug nearly sent him reeling.
"Your mate," was all he said.
"Yes," you whispered, still a little sniffly. "And I'm yours."
He let out a wet, happy chuckle, tears beginning to coat his own cheeks.
"You're mine," he repeated.
He made sure you were stable before grasping your face in his hands once again, bringing his lips to your cheek, then your forehead, then your other cheek, then your nose, and then your lips. He peppered them all over your face and arms, over the lacerations. He let the warmth in his chest take over and sing a song he had never known. The song escaped his lips in the form of kisses, in the form of I love you, my beautiful Daisy, and I'm so glad you're safe.
Only once he had regained control of his actions, he let his forehead rest on your own.
"You're mine," he said once again. "My everything."
And he knew you felt it.
2K notes · View notes
lincolndjarin · 5 months
Text
Not So Secret Santa
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javier peña x fem!reader
this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!
summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.
warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.
tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.
word count : 4.4k
✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)
no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.
lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics
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“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging. 
“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.
“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.  
“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim. 
“My entire Christmas bonus.” 
“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”
“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 
“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh. 
“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this. 
“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work. 
“Please, Steve.” 
“No.”
You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours. 
When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process. 
“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away. 
Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today. 
Javier P. 
Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office. 
And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with. 
Every single woman, except you. 
You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner. 
He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be. 
“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo. 
“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed. 
“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk. 
“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her. 
“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs. 
You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails. 
Red chipped paint. 
You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.
It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway. 
Probably. 
It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you? 
With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless. 
Stupid fucking Peña. 
Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car. 
“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.
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Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though. 
You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap. 
Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday. 
Jesus. 
You know way too much about him. 
You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails. 
“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette. 
Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night. 
There’s no time to be thinking like that.
You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.
Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower. 
The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.
“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt. 
“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes. 
He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.
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More people show up than you could have expected. 
You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses. 
You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours. 
Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt. 
You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach. 
String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation. 
“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie. 
He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier. 
Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.
One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.  
You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up. 
“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift. 
“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things. 
“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away. 
Javier traded for your name? 
As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting. 
“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”
Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.
Huh.
That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again. 
Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident. 
Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend. 
Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.  
You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people. 
Javier’s office. 
You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.
Today is just not your day.
Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand. 
Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him. 
“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult. 
“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab. 
What a foolish question. 
How could he possibly not know?
“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home. 
“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall. 
“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face. 
“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow. 
“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”
“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?  
This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out. 
“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends. 
“So this is about the secret Santa.” 
Of course he wouldn’t get it. 
“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him. 
You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first. 
“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms. 
“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.
“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide. 
You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye. 
“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night. 
“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.” 
If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go. 
You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you. 
Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.
When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole. 
“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth. 
“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts. 
You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt. 
You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment. 
Jesus you’re soaked. 
You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him. 
He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here. 
You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.
Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock. 
Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission. 
You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you. 
You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust. 
You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor. 
“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.
He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk. 
Did that really just happen?
He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time. 
“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning. 
“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk. 
“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while. 
“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.
“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. 
“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss. 
It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait. 
“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.
He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.
Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier. 
[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]
Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting. 
from : your secret fucking santa
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a/n : happy holidays everyone!!
1K notes · View notes
holybibly · 2 months
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BOTH | Yungi x reader
Genre: +18, MDNI, smut, fuck buddies, University!AU
Pairing: Ynho x reader, Mingi x reder
Word Count: 4.2 k
Summary: You've liked Yunho for a long time and don't mind having fun with him alone, but what if Mingi joins in? Well, you should play with both.
WARNING: light MxM, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, size kink, face fucking, hair pulling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, oral, cum eating, overstimulation and more.
Holy Bunnies Tag list: @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism
A/N: My precious bunnies are having a special day. I'm here to treat you to something sweet and savoury. It's not much because I didn't have a lot of time today, but it's my hope that it's to your liking. And I know it's been your wish to have me do Yungi. Lots of love, my bunnies.
dividers @cafekitsune
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As you ran your hand over his head, Yunho's blond hair felt so soft and silky under your fingers. Your tongue curled around his in a seductive way as his hands tightened on your hips, pulling up the already short dress that you were wearing. The kiss was heavenly—sweet but passionate—and you felt a little dizzy, or was it the amount of alcohol you'd had? As you sat on the table with your legs wrapped around his slender waist, pulling him closer to his neck, your kiss grew more intense and sloppy with each passing second. 
You hadn't expected the night to end like this. But you hadn't come here to argue. After a long dance that felt more like a dry hump, in the middle of a drunken house party you'd both been invited to by your mutual acquaintances, you'd snuck into an empty bedroom for a hot kissing session that promised to escalate into equally hot, and you really hoped so, rough sex. Hell, you really wanted Yunho to blow your brains out; you could already feel how big and thick his cock was through his jeans, and you hoped that the boy would know how to make good use of it. 
You'd liked Yunho for a long time—sweet as candy, but with that spicy sugar daddy flavour—definitely your type, so the possibility of being alone with him tonight seemed like a dream come true. The scenario was perfect; you'd spent the evening teasing each other, and when his gorgeous, wiry hands went under your dress as you danced, you knew exactly where it was going. 
You couldn't tell who had given up first or how you had ended up in this bedroom, but that was of little interest to you at the moment. Especially when Yunho's big hand began to massage your breasts through your dress, you couldn't wait to feel those long fingers inside your pussy. 
Just as you were about to undo the waistband of his jeans, you heard the bedroom door open. As you glanced in that direction, you rolled your eyes in irritation and pulled yourself away from Yunho's soft, flushed lips. With his arms crossed over his broad, muscular chest and the tip of his tongue poking the corner of his plump, sensual lips, Mingi leaned against the doorjamb with a cheeky grin.
"Don't mind me. Keep having fun, baby." His voice was deep and husky, sexy as hell, and your pussy clenched involuntarily at the sound. Shit. Mingi, locking the door behind him, walked over to the bed and collapsed on it, resting his hands on the mattress behind him and spreading his legs apart, a mischievous grin playing on his handsome face as he watched you and Yunho, who, by the way, was completely ignoring Mingi's presence, now planting hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. 
Song Mingi was a narcissistic bastard who knew he was incredibly attractive and sexy. You wanted to slap him to wipe that smug look off his face. Or, more likely, ride his big, thick cock to make him whimper and gasp. And you knew from experience that that was exactly what he was going to be like—hot and completely lost in pleasure. 
"Mingi, not right now." You told him, screaming as Yunho's fingers rubbed your pussy through your lace panties; you were already incredibly wet from the blond man's confident caresses, and Mingi's presence only made you even more wet. 
"Oh, the doll is getting feisty, isn't she? Wasn't that the way you were talking to me when my tongue was licking your pretty, tight cunt, or do you need a reminder of what you did last Saturday?" He licked his plump lower lip and reminded you with a cheeky grin. All in all, you weren't in need of a reminder; the way you were rolling on top of his face would be hard to erase from your memory. 
That seemed to have finally gotten Yunho's attention, causing him to pull away from your neck, and oh, God, you were in a panic; you wanted that cock, and you weren't about to give it up because Mingi couldn't control his damn mouth. 
"I had no idea you and Mingi were... together." 
You muttered to yourself and rolled your eyes, getting annoyed. Fuck Song Mingi and his big mouth, and fuck you for even deciding to sleep with him last weekend. In your defence, you were very horny, and he looked like a wet dream in that sheer mesh top. And need you tell how juicy and delicious his thick thighs looked in those leather trousers that clung to him like a second skin?
Girl, there was no way you could resist that, even if you were a nun. 
Fully prepared for him to turn and walk away, leaving you horny and unsatisfied, you looked longingly into Yunho's handsome face. But when you noticed that there wasn't an ounce of jealousy or annoyance in his features, you were genuinely surprised. His chocolate-honey eyes darted from you to Mingi, his eyebrows slightly raised in a silent question he didn't dare ask out loud. But the way his cock twitched against your thigh or the way his pupils dilated told you that Yunho knew exactly what he wanted. Oops, it turns out that Jeong Yunho wasn't as sweet and vanilla as you thought he was. And Mingi, well, Mingi was clearly the type with some damn spicy tastes. 
"Since both don't care..." Mingi just shrugged his shoulders and got up from the bed to come over to you and Yunho. 
And if you weren't reliving your most forbidden and wet dream right now, you wouldn't know what else to call it, because something about the way Mingi's long, ringed fingers grabbed Yunho's chin and pulled him in for a kiss clearly did something to you. Mingi's pierced tongue slipped between Yunho's slightly pink lips, and you were drooling, a new batch of viscous fluid pouring out of your pussy from the lewd show in front of you. The blond man's hands were on your body for a second, but it was only a moment before he responded to the rough kiss. 
You knew how it felt. To see two fucking hot guys literally fucking each other in the mouth, and you were about to come just looking at that. 
Mingi was the one who wanted to stop kissing Yunho; instead, he grabbed your hair and pulled you towards him for a hungry and aggressive kiss. It tasted like a mixture of champagne and raspberries to you, which was extremely sophisticated for Mingi's cocky appearance, but Song Mingi loved to surprise, and he was just as good at it as he was at fucking. 
Without hesitation, you responded to the kiss and immediately let his long tongue enter your mouth and lick you from the inside out. Mingi's fingers tugged hard at your hair as he tried to drink your very soul through the bloody kiss, and Yunho's now impatient hands pulled your dress off your chest, the cold air of the room making your nipples instantly tense. You moaned into Mingi's lips as the blond man's fingers circled your nipple, tugging lightly. Watching the pink, swollen bud roll between Yunho's long fingers, growing harder and redder under his care, the brunet's eyes dropped. 
His mouth filled with saliva and his cock twitched in anticipation; he could already feel pre-cum dripping from his swollen head. 
"I must fuck you, or I'll lose my mind." Mingi growled as he pressed his forehead up against yours. You chuckled slightly at how quickly his insolence vanished as the prospect of getting his cock wet loomed. 
"Guess you'll have to do that then, boys." 
"Oh, that's exactly what we'll do, baby." Yunho whispered in your ear as he pressed his fingers to your clit. Oh shit. Was that honeyed voice always going to be so hoarse and dominant? God, there was a hidden threat in Jeong Yunho. "Bed, immediately." He ordered as he scooped you up in his arms and carried you over to the big bed that was neatly made up. You were already starting to imagine the mess that the three of you were going to leave behind. 
Mingi was already sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed, and you pushed him onto his back, riding on his slutty, thin waist, trying to take the initiative, but he just grinned. 
He grinned wickedly at your attempt at dominance, but let you do what you wanted. He pulled your dress off as you left hickeys on his neck. It didn't take long for you to be pulled up against Yunho's big, hot body, and the blond man greedily took your lips in a wicked, aggressive kiss. It looks like you won't be playing with him like a puppy tonight. While Yunho was devouring your mouth, Mingi was crawling off the bed to take off his trousers and his sleeveless top, which, in truth, left very little to the imagination. 
"Oh my God, Yunho, I want to taste you." You said this as you broke the kiss and moved further down the bed, motioning for him to follow you. You pulled off his shirt and ran your hands over his smooth, milky skin, sure that by the end of the night you would have left him with countless hickeys and scratches as he stripped off his jeans and underwear. When he was comfortably settled on the bed, you found yourself between his spread legs and began to kiss his neck, slowly trailing kisses down the heaving ridges of his chest and below, sliding your tongue along the pronounced outline of his firm abs. 
When your head reached his crotch, you looked up innocently through fluffy lashes, knowing exactly what drives men mad, and licked your lips hungrily, running your tongue in deliberate slow motion over the plump flesh, arching your spine as you arched your arse. Beautiful boys deserve nothing but the best service. And while you wanted to be bold and dirty with Mingi, you wanted to be a gentle and submissive princess for Yunho. To be showered with praise and fucked like there was no tomorrow. And that was definitely at the top of your list of things to do in life, at least for today. 
Yunho stroked his big hand over your head as if he were caressing a kitten and pressed the back of your head so that your head sank down onto his hard, massive cock. And God, it was huge, thick, and wiry, with a big, reddened head that was already dripping with pre-cum. It was a real treat for an obedient girl. 
"Come on, baby, don't be shy. Show me what a good girl you can be for me." You obediently hugged at the head of his cock with your lips, savouring the low, husky moan of his as your tongue circled around it and collected the brackish liquid. Your palm could barely encircle its length as you ran it up and down, feeling the heat and throbbing of his cock as you rubbed the thick, protruding vein several times. You smeared the pre-cum and drool that flowed from your open mouth onto his cock. Swirling your tongue around the velvet head to find out what he liked best, you concentrated all your efforts on that. 
Yunho threw his head back, revealing the long, seductive length of his neck, and rolled his eyes in pleasure. 
"Such a good girl; you'll let me fuck you in my mouth, won't you?" You moaned around him, sending pleasurable vibrations down the length of his cock, and relaxed your mouth to allow Yunho to push his hips up and push his thick cock deeper down your throat. As Yunho wrapped both hands around your head to hold you in place, you grabbed his hips and tried to find some stability, waiting for what would happen next. The next movement of his hips pushed the head of his cock against the back of your throat, and he let out a long moan as he felt your soft, wet throat tighten around him. The sound he was making was almost enough to make you come. "That's it." The low growl in his voice gave away the more sadistic part of his personality before he returned to honeyed tenderness as he held your face in place, pressing his balls against your chin. He enjoyed the way your eyes filled with tears and the soft gurgling sounds you made around him. "Take it like a good girl. You'd like me to be proud of you, wouldn't you? Then choke the hell out of it. Make Daddy proud." He moaned again as your hands dug into his meaty thighs. But Yunho was too intoxicated by the feeling of the walls of your throat contracting each time you swallowed around his cock to notice the vicious nail marks you left on his skin. 
All of a sudden, you felt a pair of strong hands grab your hips from behind and dig their fingers into your soft flesh, leaving bruises in their wake. You were so lost in the way Yunho was fucking your mouth that you almost forgot that Mingi was there too. You didn't realise what you'd let yourself in for until Mingi's fingers started to pull your panties down until they were thrown somewhere on the floor. Your wet, pretty cunt was completely exposed to his gaze. As you felt Mingi's hot breath on your naked pussy, you couldn't hold back a loud moan. His fingers parted your soft pink folds before he took a long, slow lick of your pussy, his pierced tongue causing your hole to clench up from the action. A low purr vibrated in Mingi's chest as he tasted you on his tongue, weakly rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit as he plunged the tip of his tongue into your narrow entrance.
"You better squirt in my face, doll, or you won't get my cock." His plump lips touched your pussy with every word he said and for a moment you completely lost control, dulled by the sensation of Mingi licking and tonguing your cunt.
Taking advantage of your distraction, Yunho pressed harder his cock to your throat. You felt dizzy and tried to suppress your gag reflex as the thick, long cock plunged deeper. With each thrust, the outline of his cock began to bulge as he thrust against you. Yunho was definitely a wolf in sheep's clothing, and you thought Mingi had been rough with you the last time. The only thing that kept you motivated now was the gentle smile that flashed across the handsome face of the blond man as he continued to choke you with his cock.
And damn your praise kink, it made you want to give him even more pleasure. You wanted to be his good girl, the only girl who was able to warm up his big, fat cock so well in her mouth. And for his praise, as long as he kept looking at you with that gentle pride in his chocolate honey eyes, you were willing to let him get away with whatever he wanted.
You quickly regained your composure and relaxed your throat enough to let Yunho fuck you the way he wanted. You looked up again, looking for his approval, admiring the way he was breathing hard and hitching, the deep blush spreading across his cheeks and neck. And the way he was concentrating on Mingi, who was literally drinking your pussy as if he was dying of thirst. But apparently that's not enough for him, because you feel Mingi release your hips for a second, only for him to change position - and now your now swollen cunt is hovering over his face. A loud slap on your buttocks makes you whimper and drool all over Yunho's cock as he mercilessly fucks your mouth like his personal cock sleeve.
"Now lower your sweet cunt right on my face and ride like an obedient girl. Do you understand me, dolly?" The cold metal ball barely touched your clit as he spoke, his hot breath blowing around your folds. Mingi mumbled approvingly beneath you as you moaned and pressed your pussy against his face. "And remember baby. First you squirt - then I fuck you." Without warning, two long fingers with massive rings entered you, stretching your warm silky walls. Your pussy sucked them in with need as Mingi's lips encircled your clit, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue immediately beginning to flick across the sensitive flesh. Oh, fuck.
The stimulation makes you almost buckle at the knees and pushes your cunt even harder against his face. Mingi is sucking hard on your clit, pressing down on it with his piercing as he continues to stretch you with his fingers, his other hand guiding your hips to help them roll over his face. 
Hell, he might not mind dying between your legs; your cunt was so perfect—sweet and plump and pink, and God, he loved every moment of it. When his fingers found your golden centre and began to rub relentlessly, you rolled your eyes in pleasure and moaned softly. The vibrations of your voice made Yunho shiver. 
Holding back a wry grin as he watched you gasp for breath, a mixture of saliva and tears dripping down your face, he finally let go of you and pulled you away from his cock. Yunho let you struggle to catch your breath, but you failed to breathe. But you hadn't had a chance to breathe when Mingi's tongue began rubbing against your clit with renewed vigour, causing you to roll forward, face against Yunho's thigh.   "Look at you. You're so damn beautiful for us, aren't you? Pretty girl, you will do as you are told and come all over Mingi's face, won't you?" Yunho strokes your hair lovingly as he watches the brunette suck your pussy like a leech. The room fills with obscene slurps and squelches, punctuated by a mixture of Mingi's deep moans and your weak whimpers, and Yunho wouldn't mind taking his place now and licking you clean, and maybe he'll do it later today. 
Mingi releases your clit from his lips to run his tongue greedily around the edges of your stretched-out hole a couple of times before he pulls his fingers out with an obscene squelch and replaces them with his talented pierced tongue, fucking you fast and hard until your walls are closing in around him. 
"Oh, shit. Fuck, Mingi. Fuck!" You curse as you feel his plump lips curl into a smug and lecherous smile. He swirls his tongue inside your hole, dragging the metal ball on his tongue along your sensitive, trembling walls. He eats you like a fucking animal, growling into your pussy and thrusting harder, his sharp nose rubbing against your clit. 
"Tastes good, doesn't it?" Yunho asks, licking his lips as if he's trying to taste you, and Mingi just moans in response, lapping up your juices as if it were his last meal on earth. You begin to feel the familiar tension building in your belly with every passing second. The sharp tip of Mingi's tongue pierces your walls, and his nose rests against your clit. Your hips start to shake, you start to stiffen, and your pussy clenches to hold the hot, slippery appendage inside. 
"Damn, Mingi, I'll cum." You moan in a hoarse voice, and he slaps your arse so hard it makes you squeal. You can feel him grinning into your cunt before his teeth brush against your clit and he bites into a bundle of nerves in an experimental way. 
You squeal so loudly that it seems the whole house can hear what you're doing, and to be honest, you don't really care. Let the bitches be jealous; the boys are yours. Right now, one of the hottest boys in the world is Song. Mingi is fucking your pussy with his amazing tongue, and the big fat cock of the most beautiful boy in the whole university is rubbing sweetly against your cheek. Mingi is purring softly, like a contented giant cat, as you rub your helpless body against his face. You flex your hips, squeeze his face between your legs, and force his lips into a curl in order to stimulate your hole.
The whole of your body was on fire and in the sky at the same time. Mingi's huge hands gripped the small of your back, and his own breathing became ragged as you rode on his face and shamelessly screamed out his name. Your whole body tensed like a cord; you sobbed heavily, the tears dropping from your face onto Yunho's thigh, to which you were still clinging, your thighs trembling with pleasure. You were nearing orgasm, the hot sensation of release bubbling under your skin like boiling water. As Mingi slammed the palm of his hand down on your plump buttocks once more, causing the soft flesh to tremble and blush, you came. The orgasm was absolutely devastating, with your juices pouring into his hungry mouth and Mingi gobbling them up greedily, but it still wasn't what he was looking for from you.
You had to squirt, and Mingi was not going to stop until you did. He lifted your hips off of his face, only to have two of his fingers dive into the tightness of your cunt. You gasped for breath and tried to pull away from him, squealing and biting at Yunho's thigh. With his other hand, Mingi pressed you against his face, while he continued mercilessly and roughly fingered your over-excited pussy, now flowing like a waterfall.
Mingi pulled away from your clit with a wet bang, then flattened his tongue and used a small metal ball to stimulate your tortured clit. You felt the onset of a second orgasm, and your walls tightened around Mingi's fingers, the heavy, solid rings pressing against your plush flesh. His wet lips and chin opened and closed slowly as he breathed heavily and continued to torment you. 
"Come on, sweetie, squirt on his face so I can finally fuck you. Fucking princess, come for us." Yunho growls as he wraps his fingers around your cheeks and turns your face around so that you're looking at him. "Make your daddy proud." The tone of his voice and the demand itself send you over the edge of euphoria as you shake your whole body and experience an embarrassingly intense orgasm, splashing Mingi's chin and lips with your juices as he swallows them with a satisfied smile. Mingi presses your hips up against his face and helps you through a powerful orgasm, your eyes rolling. 
Your eyes are rolling up, your mouth is opening, and your tongue is flicking out. You're so fucked already, and they haven't even fucked you right, but fuck you want them to, and even if you pass out somewhere along the way, you'll be riding their dicks tonight. 
Mingi rests his nose against your pubic bone for a second and lets out a heavy sigh before he picks you up and climbs out from underneath you. He gives you and Yunho one of his stupid, drunken smiles and licks his lips in satisfaction. Your juices run down his face, neck, and slowly rising chest as he crawls up to your face. But instead of giving you the attention you crave, his lips press against Yunho's in a completely wild and aggressive kiss that can hardly be called a kiss—it's all tongues and teeth. 
When Yunho pulls away from him, he curves his beautiful lips loathingly. 
"You bastard." 
"You're the one who wanted to know what she tastes like. I'm just giving you a taste of heaven." Then he leans down and presses her wet lips to the side of his ear. "The doll can suck your cock as much as you want, but I'm going to be the one who drinks her pussy." 
"I think you should stop measuring dicks and give me a good fuck instead, or should I find someone else to do it with?" You raised your head to look at them. Seeing the shocked look on their pretty faces after your words, a small smile formed on your lips. 
"Looks like the doll is getting a little cocky, huh?" Mingi said to you as he pulled your boddy up to his chest. 
You could feel Yunho's lips pressing against your ear before he whispered to you in his honeyed, sultry voice. 
"Baby, if you misbehave, I'll have to punish you, and I have a feeling you won't be able to walk by the time I'm through with you."
"We'll be done." Mingi corrected him. 
"Well, I guess I should just keep going and see what you can do. Because I'm pretty sure I can handle both of you."
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nvuy · 1 month
Text
so… about that drink you ordered — boothill
summary. boothill has a pity party at a bar and notices a familiar face that he wants to smash into two.
notes. sort of requested official unofficial sequel sort of to hijacked. you can read this stand alone. not saying you should, though. teehee. this is so uninspired. i just like this concept a lot. i also just like rivals to lovers. i’m also riding on the coattails of the “boothill is largely illiterate.” whether it’s actually canon or not who knows. let me be. he’s still not released LMAOOOO.
warnings. the usual banter, little bit of threatening, but nothing major.
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Boothill was at a loss. The mission was a bust, there was no response from La Mancha, and the dreamscape was beginning to grind his gears. So many loud noises, the poster signs were following him around, and this so-called SoulGlad was not as good as it was advertised to be.
This bar sucked, too. The bartender had been giving him the stink eye for the better half of an hour now. It probably wasn’t appropriate to sick him right in the face for it, break his nose, and give him a beating.
The bartender wasn’t scrawny, though. Some big bulk of meat with tired eyes, scruff and mousy brown hair. His chest looked like it was about to pop the buttons of his vest. Dude looks absolutely repressed. Probably works minimum wage.
The bartender abandons a blue inky pen and his notebook that Boothill snoops in. Nothing interesting. Just pages of tabs and tabs of people he doesn’t know, nor care about.
There’s music from the stereos in the corners, though surprisingly, considering it’s not a club—that one is next door. It’s a conjoined building. The only thing seperating the bar and the VIP private rooms of the club is a wall and a locked door. Comforting—and Boothill would have lost his mind already.
It’s also dark. Granted, it’s two in the morning, but the low lights can’t be good for normal people. Not to mention the group of women in the corner that have been hoarding the few slot machines for about thirty minutes now.
Every so often, a chime will go off, and one of them will start busting into tears.
He’s here alone. Not for any particular reason. He’s waiting for a response from somebody, and what better way to pass the time than people watch and pretend he’s not nosy.
Also he feels super important sitting at the counter of the bar.
He almost jumps at a whisper in his ear.
A reddish drink in a ribbed coupe glass is gently dropped onto the counter space beside him. There’s a cucumber slice on the rim, and it also looks like it’s been dusted with sugar.
Boothill turns his nose up. Gross.
The bartender glances at the figure who slots into the seat next to the ranger. “Can I get you something else?”
“Hard whiskey.”
Huh. His eyes snapped to the right. Very familiar. Almost unnervingly so. Just in case, he scoots himself away by an inch, sitting closer to the edge of the barstool.
The bartender blinks, unsure as he pulls a tumbler from the rack. “For you?”
A finger prods the Ranger’s cheek. “For him.”
There’s a zap from the finger, like a small electric shock. Like static charged from the friction of the weird material of the barstools.
“Thanks, Gal.”
“No amount of flirting is gonna make me clear your tab,” Gallagher warned before sliding the whiskey over to the Ranger. Boothill had barely moved, now acutely aware of his own face plastered on a wanted poster behind the bartender’s head. “Try not showin’ up here frequently. Bad for my image if I keep serving crooks.” He points to the Ranger, and then to you. “Both of you.”
The bartender then is called over by a group of women who are giggling at a booth in the corner.
Boothill was sure he was going to lean forward and scrap with you over the counter. He could already feel the terse skin of your neck in his hands.
“You followin’ me?”
“You followed me first,” you say harshly.
The ranger let out a laugh before picking up his drink. “It was only a job. If you got offended, that’s your problem.” He then holds the glass close. “You g’nna do that thing again?”
“‘Thing?’” you repeated.
There was a smug grin on your face. You rested the chin in the palm of your hand.
Oh. He was so going to throw you over the counter and smash a bottle over your head. “Y’know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Don’t play stupid.”
You took a sip of your drink.
“Boop.”
Your finger pressed to his chest. You snickered when he stared down at the brief flashing of yellow beneath his joints.
Then, you flit your finger upwards and flick his nose.
He grabs your hand with the intent of pulling it from its socket.
“Now, that’s a dangerous game to play,” you remind him. “I’ve got you in my hands, remember?” Your free hand lets go of your glass, and there’s a small flash of yellow light on the pads of the gloves on your hands. A flicker is all it takes to showcase his entire makeup in your palm. You spin it slowly for good measure.
Then, the image disappears and you snatch your wrist from his hand.
“What do you want?” Boothill mutters. He’s absentmindedly staring into his drink while swishing it around. The ice cubes softly tap against the glass.
“Insight. You’re a Galaxy Ranger, right?” He can’t lie to you anyway. You pretty much know everything about him. Your main profession is definitely stalking and being a thorn in his side. Your fingers held his chin up softly. “Tell me about it.”
He blinks, dazed. “That’s it?”
“No.”
He removes your hand from his chin. He holds his glass protectively. “Then quit pullin’ my leg. Cut to the good bit.”
You sigh. “You’re no fun. Do you come to bars just to mope?” You pull a dramatic frown for good measure.
“Do you come to bars to piss everyone off?” he shoots back. Despite his tone, his fingers are gentle around the glass. Any more firm a hold, and the drink would shatter and spill all over the counter.
You grin.
You tap his nose again. “Just you.” Then, you shake your head. “I’m here ‘cause I got a bar crush.” You then point to a table behind Boothill’s head in the corner. “Blondie with the nice eyes and the rings.”
After a moment's hesitation, the ranger turns and follows your finger.
Sure enough, you’re not convincing him to spin around so you can shove your hand into his sockets. There is a blond man at a table dressed in green, winking at an opponent over a game of… poker? Is that poker? The game with the chips and stuff. And dice, too. They’re thrown over a board, and there’s a couple of people who have tuned in to watch the entire thing unfold.
“His name is Aventurine. Or, that’s a code name, I think. He’s Sigonian. Works for the IPC, incredibly insecure, has a gambling addiction, needs to eat lead…” You stopped short, counting on your fingers as Boothill turns back to you. “Isn’t he dreamy?”
Boothill narrows his eyes at you. “Do you know everything about everyone?”
You shrug. “Pretty much, yeah.” Then, you make a noise. “Eh, I’m lying. Lots of people are boring. I only know the basics ‘bout most of ‘em. It’s the higher ups I’m interested in. Case in point–” You gestured to the blond man again, now scanning over his cards. “–Mister Big Shot. And all his loser coworkers. I don’t like the IPC.”
Boothill quietly sips his drink.
At least you can both agree on something.
He wants to yawn. He doesn’t have the function to do that anymore.
You talk too much.
He cuts you off, and fiddles with a few buttons on his arm. “What can you tell me–” A small image of a woman projects into view from a small lens near his wrist. “–About her?”
You lean closer to the image. Pretty.
She has lovely purple hair and eyes to match. It’s an unassuming photo. She’s not even looking at the camera, not even close to it. She’s standing next to a little boy with sparkling eyes and a uniform that starkly resembles the hotel staff in the waking world of Penacony—oh, the bellboy. You forgot his name.
You hum. “What’s her name?”
“Acheron.” He spits it nastily, as if tasting vitriol on his tongue.
You lean back against the counter. “I’d have to dig deeper. Can’t say I’ve seen her around before.”
“Well, that’s disappointin’,” he huffs before the image shrinks and disappears back into the lens. “Thought you were better than that.”
Your brows knit together.
“Are you trying to rile me up?” It was working. Curse you and your hot-head. It would get you killed one day.
Boothill grins.
Then, he raises his glass to you. “Yep.”
You wanted to pull him apart right there, like a doll.
Instead, you whisper, “tell me about La Mancha.”
Boothill casually sips the whiskey. “What’s in it for me?”
“I’ll dig up whatever I can find about that Acheron girl.”
Boothill then lets out a small giggle. “I already know who she is.” He wasn’t lying either. You could tell by how he grinned. “I was testin’ ya.”
Oh, great. He’s figured you out again. Not that there’s much to decode beneath the layer of self-doubt and hostility.
You could feel your face burning.
He grabs your cheeks before you can turn away.
“You ain’t here ‘cause you got some ‘puppy crush,’” he accused playfully, squishing your skin like it’s clay. “You already told me ya know everything about blondie. Who’re you really here for?”
He’s not stupid.
He’s also twirling a lock of his hair around his finger.
God damnit.
Your fingers curled tightly around the rim of your glass. The cucumber slice has since fallen into the cosmopolitan, and it’s giving the entire drink a strange watery taste.
The bar carries on. There’s a hoot from the table with blondie, who’s now, since the last time you stared daggers into the side of his head, collected some more of his poor opponent’s chips.
You pull your face from his grip. “Nobody.”
“Not even me?” Boothill presses. “You seem to love followin’ me around. In and out the dreamscape.”
You grit your teeth.
“The bartender,” you mutter finally. “I’m here for the bartender.” Currently, Gallagher is half asleep on the other side of the counter, trying to negotiate with some drunkard over the pricing of a scotch.
You eye him warily for a moment.
“There it is.” He pats your head like a dog. “Knew you’d come ‘round, pumpkin.”
You’re trembling with rage. “Kiss my ass, you cyborg scum.” You were considering throwing a punch at his perfect face.
“Rude.” Boothill flicks your nose back and you grunt. “I’m tryin’ to be nice wit’ you. You followed me here.”
You wanted to leave now. He sucks when he knows he has the upper hand, even if he’s well aware you can make his arms tear his own head off.
But you’re not going to do that. You need him. You made that clear.
The sound of a slot machine goes off somewhere to the right. There's cheering from a bunch of women.
You turn back and stare at the wall of liquor behind the bar. Maybe you should just knock yourself out. Whether by downing an entire bottle of bourbon or smashing it over your head. It was a hard choice to make.
You watch him through your peripherals, noticing he’s pinched a napkin from the pile on the counter.
“Lookin’ very pretty tonight, by the way. Hard to keep my eyes off ya.” He was writing something down with the pen from before. “If you were anyone else, I woulda had to take ya home. ‘Specially after ya bought me a drink.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Then, you pause. “Excuse me?”
Boothill folds the napkin into a square and holds it to your lips. “Open.”
“You are not–”
Too late. He’s pushed it to your teeth, and you instinctively clamp down on it.
Oh, this sucks. This sucks bad.
He knows it, too, from the way he’s grinning at you like a shark and snickering.
He presses his warm lips to your cheek. The scent of whiskey faintly wafts in the air.
You stupidly freeze, hands curled around his wrists when his cold hands tilt your head so the tip of his tongue can press to the corner of your lips. You could stop him. You could.
You didn’t.
You smell like strawberry, the same as that other night. You look just as good, too. Shame you haven’t put anything on your lips. He would’ve loved to be stained a nice pink again.
He slides his whiskey next to you.
Then, he finishes what’s left of your drink. Dickhead. “I’ll be ‘round if ya need me.” He taps your nose and stands up. “You know where to find me.”
With a tilt of his hat, he leaves.
You pull the napkin from your teeth. Are you serious?
Face burning with humiliation, you hastily unfold the tissue, fingers shaking around the glass of whiskey. It’s heavy on your tongue; disgusting, bitter, everything you’d use to describe that stupid cowboy and his abomination of a body.
Scrawled in blue ink is a line of numbers. It looked suspiciously like a phone number.
Below it in blocky letters are the words: Keep In touc H. ♡
There’s a crudely drawn horse with a hat in the corner.
669 notes · View notes
blueicequeen19 · 2 months
Text
The Nanny
Warnings: Rafe cheating on his wife with the nanny 🔥
I’d been a nanny for the Cameron’s since their oldest was a baby. They moved me into the guest house, paid for my college, and paid me more than I ever dreamed. I was extremely grateful for the opportunity even when I’d catch Mr Cameron staring at me for long periods of time.
I won’t lie by saying I didn’t enjoy the attention and living in OBX gave me the perfect opportunity to run around in bikini or crop tops or dresses. I’d feel his eyes on my skin like a warm caress, making me burn hotter and hotter until I had no choice but to leave the room.
I made sure to never catch myself in a room alone with him out of fear of what he’d do. What I’d let him do.
I wasn’t worried about his wife because more often than not, I’d spot a blonde, shaggy haired Pogue slipping out the back door on weekends that Mr Cameron was working despite her being pregnant with his fourth child. I wasn’t sure if Mr Cameron was entirely faithful either.
They fought so much that I was constantly trying to keep their children busy. Then when I’d check to make sure it was safe to come back inside, I’d find Mr Cameron taking his wife against the counter or on top of the kitchen table. On the stairs. In the middle of the floor.
She was always facing away from him and he’d always lock eyes with me while he pounded into her. Id ache between my thighs for days. No amount of touching myself would help. I’d seen his thick cock countless times in five years and I craved it. Something had to be wrong with me. I couldn’t risk losing everything.
I was deep in thought as I made my way back to the pool house where I lived that I didn’t even notice the door being unlocked as I stepped inside or the spicy scent of expensive cologne until it was too late.
“Mr Cameron.” I breathed, a lump forming in my throat as I watched him turn the side lamp on.
“It’s been five years, Y/N, I think we’re past the formalities.” His lips tip up into an arrogant smirk, “Plus you’ve seen my cock on more than one occasion so please, call me Rafe.” I couldn’t speak as his eyes raked over me, making me clench my thighs.
“W-what can I do for you?” I breathe. His wife and kids were asleep not far from here, just across the yard. He couldn’t be here. What if she came looking for him? Why was it suddenly so hot in here?
“I want you to fuck me. Whenever I want. However I want.” Mr Cameron said with confidence, lighting my blood on fire as my eyes widen.
“Your wife— your kids—what—.”
He suddenly stands, crossing the room quicker than I can back away.
“My wife is fucking a Pogue in my bed when I’m not here. I’m pretty sure one or two of my children aren’t even mine.” I gasp as my back hits the wall and his large hand finds the back of my neck. Our bodies are suddenly flush and I can’t breathe.
“Mr Cameron—.”
“It’s Rafe or sir, Y/N. Mr Cameron is my father and I won’t have you reminding me of him when I’m inside you.” Heat pools in my belly and I can’t stop from whimpering.
“I know you feel me watching you. I know you want me as much as I want you. It’s written all over your face.” His thumb swipes over my bottom lip, prying it free from my teeth.
“If your wife finds out I could lose everything.” I whisper, my hands fisted at my sides.
“You work for me. You belong to me.” My heart races in my chest, his possessiveness making my knees weak.
“You’ll take care of my kids during the day and you’ll take care of me at night. I’ll double your salary and fuck you so hard you’ll see stars. Do we understand each other?” I find myself nodding before I can fully grasp what he’s saying.
“Good. Show me to your room.” I blink a few times before realizing he’s stepped away from me, letting me pass. I can’t take in a full breath as I lead him up the stairs and to my bedroom. My knees are weak and when he locks the door behind him, they nearly give out.
“Face me.”
I do.
“Strip.”
I do that too.
I’m so wet between my thighs that they’re practically stuck together. I’d never been more turned on in my life. A stiff wind could make me cum right now. The ache only intensifies as he devours me with his eyes as he strips off his clothes, draping them over the chair before making his way towards me.
“This first time is going to be quick.” He pushes me down on the bed, the heat of his body making me gasp as he kneels between my legs.
“I’m so hard that it hurts.” He shoves my legs wider apart before taking the thick head of his cock and running it along my slit.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. Making a fucking mess for me, baby.” He groans. I whimper, unable to form words as we both watch his movements.
“Next time I’m going to take my time with you and savor this.” The head slips in and I gasp, my nails biting into his biceps.
“I just can’t control myself right now. I need you too badly.” When he pushes in further, a deep sexy groan escapes him and I clench around the head, making him hiss between his teeth as he comes down on top of me. We’re both shaking as he sinks deeper and deeper until I’m so full that it hurts.
“Fuck, you feel good. Fucking made for me.” I resist the urge to kiss him as we come chest to chest and he rolls his hips, stealing another moan from me.
“So hold on. Because this time I’m going to fuck you within an inch of your life.”
885 notes · View notes
cutielando · 3 months
Text
my lifeline ~ mattheo riddle
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Summary: You are Mattheo’s lifeline, his one ray of sunshine in the darkness that is his life. A cute little breakdown of how your relationship to the Slytherin bad boy began.
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
Mattheo had always had it rough.
Being the son of the Dark Lord brought enough complications to his life, let alone being at school with people who only made fun of him because of that.
It wasn’t fair. Nothing about his life seemed fair, but he had no choice about it. He couldn’t change who he was, no matter how much he wanted to.
But he could change the way he viewed himself.
And he did. 
From the moment you had entered his life.
You transfering to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons had probably been the best thing that had ever happened to him.
Watching you timidly walk towards the Sorting Hat, anxiously waiting for it to speak and tell you which house you would join, seeing the sweet smile you had given the Slytherins once you joined them at their table and just so happened to have been sitting right across from him.
He knew, from the moment you had looked at him with your bright eyes, that he was a goner.
Over the course of your first weeks at the school, Mattheo had been the one to welcome you the best, always offering to show you around the castle, help you study or simply just keep you company while you would do homework together.
Pansy had also become your friend, very eager to have another girl in the friend group.
Pansy was also the first person to find out about your crush on the curly haired bad boy. 
It didn’t come as a surprise, really. With the amount of time you had been spending together ever since you came to the school, the countless walks you had been on with him when the both of you had free time, the charming smiles he would give you whenever he would look at you.
He had you mesmerized and he didn’t even realize.
The holidays had proved to be the perfect opportunity for Mattheo to finally tell you what he was feeling, right before you left for home.
“Y/N!” he had called out for you as you were struggling to carry your luggage down the countless pairs of stairs towards the castle entrance.
You turned around, a smile immediately appearing on your kind face. The kind of smile that made the butterflies in Mattheo’s stomach go crazy.
“Hey, Mattheo. I was just about to leave for the train, I didn’t want to be late” you explained, gesturing towards your trunk.
You didn’t know if you should have said anything else, knowing that his father and him probably didn’t want to have anything to do with each other and he had no reason to want to go home for the holidays.
“I know, and I wanted to catch you just before you left. I wanted to tell you something that I’ve been putting off for the entire semester” he said, scratching the back of his neck.
You nodded, signaling that you were listening. 
He let out a breath before speaking up once again.
“I like you, a lot. Ever since you transferred here, you’ve been on my mind. I’ve come to look forward to every minute that I get to spend with you, regardless of what we do. I just wanted to know if you would like to go on a date with me once you get back?” he asked, making you smile.
All the daydreams about what it would be like to be with him, to know that he was just yours, they were finally going to happen after so much lost time.
“Your timing really sucks” you joked, making him blush and nod. “But my answer is yes” you added before quickly leaning up to kiss his cheek and left.
Unbeknownst to you, the moment you had turned around and couldn’t see him anymore, he fist-bumped the air and did a little happy dance, being sure that nobody would see him and tarnish his bad boy reputation.
Typical.
During the time you spent away, you guys exchanged several letters, in most of them Mattheo was complaining about how slow the time was passing and how eager he was to see you again and take you out.
Which he did, the hour right after you had got back to Hogwarts. 
Your date had been amazing, sipping your favorite warm drinks at the Three Broomsticks, browsing around your favorite shops in Hogsmeade, and then finally ending with a goodnight kiss right at the bottom of the stairs leading to your bedroom.
The news that you had become a couple spread around as quickly as a disease would. Gossip traveled very fast around a school full of teenagers, especially when it involved someone with a reputation like Mattheo.
Being seen together in front of the whole school had been something you were weary of, ever since he had asked you out; mainly because it was no news that your now boyfriend was a very handsome lad, and a good number of the girls from every house had a thing for him.
Imagine now, with him dating you, it had automatically put a big target on your back.
But not to worry, Mattheo was there for you.
“People are staring” you told him on the morning of your first breakfast together as a couple, a day after everyone had got back from holiday.
“So? Let them stare, I don’t care” he said, shrugging his shoulders and pulling you closer to him.
You gulped, noticing more and more girls whispering and looking at you over their shoulders, frantically it was more like glaring deep into your soul.
“Easy for you to say, you don’t have the entire female population of this castle hoping your head would explode so they can take your place” you had meant for it to sound like a joke in order to not worry Mattheo, but he had seen right through it.
Following your gaze, he had noticed just how much attention there was on you that morning. He cleared his throat, glaring at every single girl right back, which then prompted them to blush and turn away from you guys.
“Don’t worry about other people, they know nothing about us and they’re just jealous” he whispered to you, planting a kiss on your temple in comfort.
You knew that he was right, that you just had to drown everyone out and just focus on Mattheo and what you had.
And that was exactly what you did.
Months went by very quickly, making your relationship with Mattheo only blossom more and more with each passing day. The love shared between you was more intense than anything either of you had experienced before.
You two helped each other, motivated and encouraged one another. You helped him deal with his problems, listened to him whenever he needed to unwind and just talk to someone about his home, about what his childhood was like and what being Voldemort’s son had done to him.
You slowly helped him out of his shell, making him open to you more and more each passing day, making sure he was comfortable whenever he was around you and always made sure he was okay, no matter where you were or what the circumstances were.
You became what he needed, his savior. 
A lifeline to pull him back to reality when he would need it the most, whenever he would feel like he was about to fall off the edge.
You were his life.
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ashwhowrites · 19 days
Note
Eddie Munson x Cunningham! Reader, what if Reader is Chrissy's stepsister or smth like that, and she fell for Eddie, Chrissy's friend, but she thinks Chrissy likes Eddie, so she's always kinda mad at Chrissy and Eddie, and Eddie notices it, and talks with reader and she confesses and he tells her that Chrissy has been giving him some tips to make Reader fall in love with him?
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Wrong Cunningham
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Y/N Cunningham was not the preppy cheerleader type like her stepsister was. She enjoyed books, video games, and being in her circle of friends. Y/N met many people because of Chrissy's popularity, which she never cared about. But then Chrissy brought home the most gorgeous boy she had ever seen.
His name was Eddie Munson. He had dark curly long hair, big brown eyes, and pink lips. Y/N never felt a crush this intense before, but the second she saw Eddie she couldn't forget about him. She thought about him all the time.
Eddie came over more and more. He even began to have dinner at the house. Y/N got lost in everything he said. Even when he didn't talk, her eyes were still on him. She'd blush and look away when he looked back at her.
But her big crush meant a huge amount of envy towards Chrissy. Chrissy already had a boyfriend, popular, and treated her like a queen. Now she had the attention of Eddie all over her. It was wrong for Chrissy to lead Eddie in the way she was. Which caused Y/N to be even more annoyed with Chrissy.
~~~~
Y/N sang to herself as she dusted her picture frames. She was in her own little world she didn't know Eddie was leaning against her door frame with a smile.
"You have a beautiful voice."
Y/N jumped and turned. She was shocked to see Eddie walking into her room. She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
"Oh! I didn't know you were here." Y/N said she put down her duster.
"Couldn't pass up your mom's meatloaf." Eddie joked, and Y/N laughed and agreed.
"Do you sing just for fun or perform?" Eddie asked
"Oh god no. I could never sing in front of anyone." Y/N said
"I always thought the same thing but now I'm in a band and perform every Friday, at the hideout, at eight," Eddie said, Y/N felt nervous as he moved closer.
"Is that an invitation?" Y/N asked, she hoped it was.
"If you want it to be." Eddie smiled, now steps closer. He was so close she could smell his addicting cologne.
If she wanted it to be? Of course, she did. But did he want her to?
"EDDIE, where are you?" Chrissy said as she walked up the stairs. Hearing her voice, Y/N stepped away from Eddie and went back to cleaning.
Eddie deflated as she moved away and turned her attention elsewhere.
"Looks like that is your cue," Y/N snapped
Chrissy walked in, "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt." Chrissy winked at Eddie.
"Sure you didn't," Y/N said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. Eddie and Chrissy shared a look as Y/N brushed past them to leave the room.
~
Dinner was awkward and tense. Chrissy kept drifting her eyes between Y/N and Eddie. Eddie kept his eyes on Y/N as he tried to figure out what changed. And Y/N kept her eyes down.
Chrissy vowed to get to the end of it.
~~~
Eddie shook off his nerves and walked to Y/N as she closed her locker. After the dinner, a few days ago, things were still tense. But Eddie wanted to try again with Y/N.
"Hey, Y/N"
"Hi Eddie," Y/N smiled
"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the hideout tonight?" Eddie tried to smile confidently, but he was nervous.
"With you?" Y/N felt excited but she felt like she shouldn't be. Chrissy liked him and he liked her.
"Well no," Y/N sighed but Eddie continued, "I will already be there to set up for my performance. But I want you to meet me there."
Y/N felt her excitement building again.
"Yeah, that sounds cool." Y/N smiled a small heat of blush on her cheeks.
"Sweet! And Chrissy is welcome to tag along. You know so you don't have to show up alone at a new place." Eddie explained. He thought he sounded caring, but Y/N took it a different way.
"Oh right, Chrissy. I'll let her know." Y/N smiled before she walked off.
~
Y/N sighed as she got home. After Eddie's not subtle way of asking Chrissy to be there, Y/N didn't feel like going. She told Chrissy that Eddie wanted her to attend tonight's show.
"Are you going?" Chrissy asked, she was confused why Eddie would ask Chrissy to go, but not Y/N.
"No, I don't feel well so I'm going to sleep, plus he asked for you." Y/N sighed as she walked to her room.
~
Chrissy arrived at the show as Eddie took the stage.
Eddie began to play but his eyes moved around the room. He caught Chrissy's eyes and smiled. But he felt disappointed when he didn't see Y/N anywhere.
When the show ended, Eddie came off the stage sweaty and irritated.
"Where is she?" Eddie asked he was slightly annoyed. Why was Y/N dodging him?
"How did you ask her? Because she thinks you asked for me to be here."
"I asked her and she said yes! Then I didn't want her to feel anxious so I said you could tag along." Eddie explained.
"Eddie! You idiot." Chrissy spazzed, her right hand smacking Eddie's arm.
"What did I do?"
"That wasn't the plan. If you want a date, it needs to be just the two of you. If you add anyone else, it immediately tells the girl it's not a date. Which means you aren't interested." Chrissy explained.
"I'll go talk to her," Eddie said as he raced out of the bar.
~
Eddie knocked on Y/N's bedroom door, his hands in his pockets as he waited.
"Eddie?"
"Can we talk?"
Y/N moved aside and let Eddie walk into her room.
"What did I do wrong? Why do you seem to hate having me around?" Eddie asked
"I don't Eddie," Y/N sighed, "I like having you around, it's just complicated." She sat on her bed and looked down at her nails.
"Then explain it," Eddie said, sitting next to her.
"I sorta have feelings for you and knowing you and Chrissy like each other is really hard for me," Y/N said, she looked at Eddie and back to her nails.
"Woah, Chrissy and I do not like each other." Eddie laughed.
"It's not funny," Y/N snapped, and Eddie stooped laughing.
"You're right. It's not funny. But Chrissy and I do not like each other, I swear." Eddie explained. "I like you and Chrissy has been trying to help me."
"Why would you need help?" Y/N asked, her heart racing at his confession.
"I had no idea how to even talk to you. You make me nervous, my tongue goes numb, my heart beats out of my chest, and I wanted to ask you out but I knew I couldn't do it alone."
Y/N felt herself smiling, that was the cutest thing she had ever heard. She couldn't believe she made him nervous. She couldn't believe he liked her back.
"I believe you can do it on your own, try it," Y/N said, she turned her body to face his and laced their hands together.
"Right now?" Eddie choked out
She nodded and squeezed his hand with a smile on her face.
"Can I take you on a date? Tomorrow night at the hideout, just us." Eddie asked, he nervously squeezed her hand back.
"You absolutely can." Y/N laughed
"Fuck yeah," Eddie cheered to himself
"Fuck yeah," Y/N laughed.
Seems like Y/N owed Chrissy an apology. But right now, her focus was on Eddie.
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harstyle · 17 days
Text
the styles' nanny: part two
Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.
Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry
Word-count: 10.2k
Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex
here’s part one!
A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!
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I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now. 
I’ll see you soon,
Y/N
That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered. 
Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.
Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.
It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself.  Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.
“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?” 
Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum. 
“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.” 
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?” 
“Of course.” 
As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.
But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.
He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.
He was ready to offer that to her.
Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.
And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.
“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.
“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”
Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.
She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.
Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.
“No.”
His eyebrow raised, “no?”
“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”
He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.
“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”
“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”
Concern warped his features.
“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”
She’d turned heads.
“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.” 
She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.
“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.
The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.
“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”
“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”
“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”
In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.
“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.
As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.
“Are you driving me to my apartment?”
And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.
“Where’s Jamie?”
He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”
“Oh.”
The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.
Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.
“Y/N, have some water.”
“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.
He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m tired.”
“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”
She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”
“Y/N.”
That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.
“Why’d you go out drinking again?”
“Wanted to.”
“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”
“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”
Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.
Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke,  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”
Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”
“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”
It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.
The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.
It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.
“You still there, baby?”
And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.
But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.
“Yeah.”
“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”
“No, I‘m not like you.”
“Ouch.”
Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.
“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”
His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”
And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine. 
“Yeah.”
“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”
Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.
 “Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”
She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”
Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.
“I know so.”
“Thank you.”
“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.
“You sure?”
“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”
And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?
For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.
“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.
She knew what.
“Nothing.”
“M’kay.”
“Stand up for me?”
Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.
As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.
“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”
He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.
“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.
He hummed, “I know.”
“But thank you.”
“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”
“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”
Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.
“Last time what?”
He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.
He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.
Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.
What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.
She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.
Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.
Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”
“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”
“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”
“Probably.”
Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.
“I—“
“Are you— oh, sorry.”
“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.
Harry smiled, “are you okay?”
“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“
Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”
“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”
Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”
“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.
“No go on, tell me.”
“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”
“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”
“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”
“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.
The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.
“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”
A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.
“Oh.”
He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.
“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.
There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.
“But you…”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t… because of yesterday?”
“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”
His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“
“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”
“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”
She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”
“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”
“Yes.”
Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”
“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”
“Enlighten me then.”
Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.
So she deflected.
“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“
“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”
“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."
Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.
“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”
“I don’t know.”
She almost laughed, “sure”
“Sweetheart—“
“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”
“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”
“There’s nothing to consider, okay?!  I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“
What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.
It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.
Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.
But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.
“Wait.”
His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”
“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.
“Tell me to stop and I will.”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.
He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.
“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”
She only nodded.
He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”
She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.
Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.
Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.
The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.
Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).
As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.
“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”
“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”
“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”
“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”
Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.
“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”
Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”
“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“
“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”
Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.
“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”
“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.
It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”
“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”
“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“
“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”
A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.
Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.
And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone:  “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.
Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.
“Y/N—“
“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“
“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”
She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.
“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”
Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”
“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”
Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”
“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”
“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”
“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”
“Do you love her?”
Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.
Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.
Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.
“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”
Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.
Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.
When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.
“That’s… yeah. I get that.”
This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.
Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.
“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”
Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight.  “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”
“Okay.”
A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”
“I’d like you to come.”
“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”
“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”
“I’m quitting. That’s it.”
“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“
“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”
She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.
Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.
And yet, he was determined to keep trying.
Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.
The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.
This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.
“So how flexible is time for you?”
“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”
“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”
“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”  
This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.
That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.
“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”
Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”
“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”
“I don’t expect you to understand—“
“No. We’re not doing that.”
“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”
“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“
“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”
And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”
“For good reason.”
“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”
“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”
Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.
“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”
“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”
He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”
“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.
“Do you have another job lined up?“
“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”
“Where?”
“A cafe.”
“Where?”
“You wouldn’t know it.”
“Are you hired?”
She huffed, “no.”
“Where else?”
“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”
“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”
“No.”
“Financial help, maybe?”
Y/N groaned, “no.”
“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“
“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“
“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“
“Can we just— can we not?”
And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts.  Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.
There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.
For now, he had to be okay with this.
Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.
She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.
He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.
But it hadn‘t been real, had it?
It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.
Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.
But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.
Wouldn‘t he?
He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.
And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.
She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.
“You okay?”
“Hm? Yes. Why?”
A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”
“What? No, I’m fine.”
God, she was feeling small under his gaze.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”
His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”
“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”
But she failed to move.
Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.
“Sweetheart?”
“Hm?”
“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”
Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“
“Last night you what?”
“I had… I had this dream and—“
She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.
“Is this okay?”
His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”
He hummed.
“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”
“It’s only seven.”
“Yeah.”
Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat.  He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder. 
“Can you do my arms?”
“Of course, baby.”
She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.  
And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.
“Is this okay?”
She nodded promptly, heart racing.
Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.
A love like his would feel so great.
“You look really beautiful, you know that?”
“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
“Me neither.”
“You’re the one who keeps running.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.
“I’m scared to stay.”
He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”
“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“
“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”
Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”
“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”
“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”
“I doubt that,” he retorted.
“Past experiences have proven as much.”
He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”
Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”
“How easy it is to love you.”
Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.
“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”
Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.
And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.
When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.
A month later.
“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”
As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.
She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.
“Are you nervous?”
“Yeah.”
“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”
“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”
“You ready then?”
“Yes.”
Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.
“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”
Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.
“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”
“Yes, they still are.”
Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”
“You said that you don’t.”
“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”
Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”
“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”
“Who?”
Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.
He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.
When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.
“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”
The silence was short lived.
He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”
“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”
“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”
“Really?”
“I do.”
This stumped her.
And now it was her turn: “wow.”
Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.
“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”
She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.
“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“
“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“We’ve only been together—“
“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”
“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”
And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.
“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”
“Would he?”
“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”
“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.
“Then move in with us.”
A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”
“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”
“Harry!”
“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“
“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”
“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”
“I know that.”
“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”
“I need to make money somehow.”
“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”
“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”
“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“
Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”
“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”
“Sorry.”
Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”
Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”
Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t regret it."
He'd been right.
--
The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it
tags:
@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl
I hope I didn’t forget anyone!
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euaphora · 8 months
Note
Can you make an enemies to lovers story with megumi ×reader (slow burn / actually enemies)
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summary: everyone thinks you guys hate each other from all the arguments you always have but are secretly fucking.
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Everything he said always sounded dumb, irrelevant or made absolutely no sense. You thought the worst about him, the things he’s probably done to other girls, the amount he’s probably played.
Although, he though the same about you. Expect instead of a player, he thought you were a slut. The outfits you wore always made you look so good, but what if you only wear them to get fucked in them? He thought about that a lot.
Both of you met through mutual friends, gojo, he had insisted for you to meet but as soon as you saw him you picked up on the fuckboy vibes. Same thing with you, he saw you wearing a skirt that would have been confused with a belt and shook his head.
Couple weeks passed, everything seemed fine but you two, why did you guys have to argue about everything?
“You can’t just be rude to her, fushiguro!” You demand. He smiles at your comment, “I’m not gonna’ be giving some random girl my number either, especially when I don’t even know her.”
“Yeah but did you have to say, “get away from me bro.” like there was many other ways to regret someone.” Gojo interrupted, turning to look at Geto microwaving some popcorn. “I wouldn’t let that slide, gumi.” Suguru smiles, popping popcorn in his mouth.
“This isn’t even any of your guy’s problem, so stay the fuck out...” He says, walking towards his room, hallway making skipping sounds. “Can’t even fucking admit to it.” You called out, not realizing you had accidentally said it out loud and not in your head.
He pauses for a minute, only turning his head around and smiles. He looks straight again and open the door to a room, quickly shutting it loudly. You quickly cover your mouth and widen your eyes, “Fuck.”
“Fuck!” You groan out, hands hugging a random pillow he had displayed on his bed, gripping it while holding onto it for dear life.
After the other boys left, megumi called you into his room. You already knew you were fucked the second you got a look from him. “Take as seat.” He demands, pointing towards the bed. You slowly go up to him but before you can even sit down, he pulls you in from your waist and towers over you.
Slipping his veiny cock over and over inside your cunny, he teasingly runs his fingers over your sensitive clit, “didn’t i fucking warn you last time? why can’t you get that through your fucking,” he pulls your hair back into a mess ponytail with his hands, “ pretty little head, hm?”
He didn’t get a response, making him upset but smile with the way you kept fucking your way onto his dick like a little bunny in heat. You feel a quick but hard slap lands on your ass, making you jump forward. “I’m sorry, please…just feels too good.” You point out, body falling forward.
You feel your hair stick to your forehead from the amount of sweat you were getting, megumi quickly pulls out and turns you around. He rams his cock inside you, watching your face wince at the no longer empty feeling you had a second ago. “Too tired already, baby?
“Please, just let me cum, gumi!” You pant out, holding onto his biceps for support, biting you lip to hold back your loud moaning. “I can’t let you, sweetheart, you’ve been bad all day.”
“But you were mean-”
“Yeah because I didn’t want that girls number, you know that.” He slows down, creasing your face while giving you a big smile.
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heartsfourdazai · 4 months
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heeeello, I wanted to order the bungou stray dogs guys with a s/o who always cries when she drinks, like she's a bigger lightweight than Chuuya and also gets really clingy when she's drunk
bsd men with a lightweight, clingy soulmate
dazai, chuuya, atsushi, akutagawa, kunikida, ranpo
warnings: drinking, lowercase writing, short because i feel crappy</3
a/n: writing with nails is a pain, but not impossible!!
taglist: @justcallmesakira @atlasnessie @riiwrites @silverbladexyz <3 luv u guys!! comment to be added!!!
dazai
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finds it absolutely adorable when you sob at the smallest of things when you drink.
first time he witnessed your lightweight behavior, it was your friends 18th birthday party and you were offered a drink...then it escalated to more then two...
he found you on the floor of the guest room with your friend, who was embarrassed for you.
"she was fine when you left, but then i heard her cry, saying you left her forever..."
he shakes his head with a soft smile, and motions your friend to leave.
when they did, he walked to your figure and brushed your hair out of the way of your face.
"my sweet'bella~ missed me that much~" he teased and kissed your cheek softly as you stared up at him and wrapped your arms around him and cuddled into his arms.
"i was gone for a mere 5 minutes.."
"hic- ihit felt like hic- 5 years.."
you closed your eyes and fell asleep in his arms, not feeling his soft lips kiss your head and rock you back and forth on the floor.
he wrapped his trench around you when he decided to sleep with you on the floor as well.
he made sure to keep in mind, "just 5 drinks...it's all it takes.."
chuuya
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"CHUUUUYYYAHahahaa..."
"WHAT-what happened?!"
your eyes were watery, and your nose was runny
"i banged my knee..."
you came home drunk off your mind, and he already knew he was going to have to deal with your hangover, so he took the responsibly to take care of you.
you were on your knees on the carpet of your bedroom floor, making grabby hands at your boyfriend who sighed loudly, closing the door after him as he walked toward your body.
he lifts you up with a grunt and sat down on the bed with you on his lap, his hand rubbing your knee as you sniffled into his sleeve of his t-shirt.
it's only been 2 hours, and chuuya was ready to pass out because it was almost like he was taking care of a toddler.
"i thought you feel asleep, 2 hours ago!" he complained, now combing his fingers through your hair.
"i waaaassss!!!"
"then why aren't you?"
"ihi feel off reaching for the remoooote!!" you hung off his arms and your head rested on your pillow and closed your eyes.
chuuya couldn't move; however he didn't want to move.
he looked at you and chuckled softly before pressing a kiss to your arm that rested on your lap ontop of him.
atsushi
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please, my boy is so confused
he had the same amount of alcohol as you, and your more drunk then a child on a sugar high.
your clinging onto him for the rest of the night, sobbing into his sleeve the moment you lose him and find him again.
"y/n...i went to go to the bathroom!"
"I THOUGHT YOU LEFT ME FOREVERRR!!!!"
he gives 10x the hugs and kisses you want.
at home, he would try to put you to sleep in your own bed while he sleeps on the couch because right now, although he helped you bathe for 30 minutes you still smelled like alcohol, and you kick in your sleep when you get like this.
he would know, he learned the hard why :(
"NAHO!! dohon't leeeeave!!"
"ow-ow-ow, y/n that's my hair- OW!!"
you ended up pulling him into your arms and wrapped your legs around his torso and fell asleep in two seconds.
he didn't fight you and just kissed your head and combed his fingers through your hair.
akutagawa
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so, he doesn't drink as much as you think.
so seeing you get drunk after 4 drinks; he decided to keep you away from alcohol as much as he can....but he didn't know how without it seem like he was controlling.
the two of you were still at the bar, however you kept poking at his cheek in a way to annoy him.
"ryu...ryu..psst...ryu?"
"y/n!"
he glared at you, and you just giggled.
"hehe you look pissed!"
he took a deep breath in and out and looked at you, "and you're drunk..."
"PFFT!"
you cackled, slapping his arm and clung onto it soon after..
"mm..you have such strong arms~"
was that meant to fluster him?
well, it did.
he blushed and pushed you away, but you came right back, poking his bicep.
you closed your eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder.
"child. you are a literal child.." he rolled his eyes, interlocking his fingers with yours.
he stopped talking to take notice to your soft snoring, the bar was barely full, and the clocked read 11: 45...without any other choice, he took you to your place...making sure you woke up with at least some memory of tonight.
kunikida
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"y/n. i'm working.."
"ahand i'm the president!!"
"more like drunk.."
you pulled his cheek and pinched his nose at the same time, making him look like a deformed potato.
he knews how lightweight you are, he made sure to write it down. he also made sure to write down how mnay drinks it takes for you to get drunk...which is 5...only 5.
to this day, he still has no idea how you do it!
he's not a pda kinda guy, so when ypu keep touching him or poking him when he doesn't know he will tie you up, i kid you not, you know how dazai tied up atsushi in that one episode with the mushroom- yeah...
"kuniiiiiiii!-OWAHAO!" you whined, falling off the chair he tied you in and banged your head on the floor.
he turned to see you on the floor and tears roll down your face.
he looked at you with a deadpan expression and you only cried more, rubbing your eyes as you still laid on the floor.
with a sigh, he stands from his desk and walked toward you, hoisting you up in his arms and rested you on another desk and checked your head.
"you're fine, y/n...just banged your head a little..." he kissed your wound and hugged you in a way to get you to stop crying.
even though it was a small bump, when your drunk like this; even a feather could hurt you.
ranpo
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he knew.
he already knew by your first sip he will have to deal with what was about to come his way.
and he was okay with that.
he LOVES it when you act all baby around him; t's almost like he's now in control and can just say anything and you'll agree.
your face was buried into the table you and yosano sat at, and your muffled sobs caught the attention from others at the bar.
she sighs and takes a sip of wine before noticing ranpo return, "ranpo, come get your girlfriend...she thought i was you 10 times now!"
you felt someone's hands on your shoulder and you looked up to see ranpo smirking down at you, "i';m wounded...we don't even look alike...is she that drunk?" he teased, kissing your inner lip and you whined, the dried tears on your cheeks gave you an uncomfy feeling.
"nooo- kiss me properly!!" you begged, making grabby hands at you and he laughed; "no, i don't think you deserve any~ you can't even recognize your own boyfriend?!"
after you whining, ranpo gave into you and kissed your lips more times then you haved asked for.
but are you complaing?
nope!
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generalsmemories · 4 months
Text
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Unwanted reunion
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ prompts: “catching the other one crying shortly after an argument and immediately feeling an overwhelming wave of guilt crash onto you.” + "it's okay, we can fix this..." + “playing with their hair until they fall asleep”|| 1k event
✧ contents: hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, implied character death
✧ a/n: if u wonder how in the world i came up with the scenario below. i genuinely don't know either it's a mystery to even me. CREATIVE LIBERTY WINS AGAIN THE PROMPTS WERE LITERALLY INSPO AND NOT WRITTEN DIRECTLY INTO THE SCENARIO. also implied that this took place after the battle with phantylia so keep that in mind.
NOT BETA-READ AS USUAL FELLAS I WANTED TO HAND THIS OVER TO YA'LL ASAP AS AN APOLOGY FOR STARVING YOU ALL FOR SO LONG!! it's mild angst though, so sorry.
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Jing Yuan's can feel a familiar heaviness weigh on his body as well as the feeling of someone wrapping a roll of gauze on his arm. However opening his eyes proved to be a challenge in itself and it's only with great struggle that he can manage to force them slightly open to the bright light.
The first thing he notices is the familiar ceiling of your shared home. A bit weird since whenever he did get injured he would immediately be rushed towards a private room by the Seat of Divine Foresight - which was the safest place for him to stay. Perhaps you had gotten your will again to take care of him - seeing as you're a high ranking healer yourself and quite a stubborn soul.
But his eyes still widen a tiny bit when he sees you sitting by the edge of the bed, one hand gripping his gauzed wound while your other hand is busy trying to find something to keep your hard work in place. You're humming a soft tune again, he never knows what sort of melody you're humming, only that it had become a habit for you after the amount of years you had spent by his side bandaging his battle wounds. Something about helping your mood and staying positive.
"Your recklessness knows no bounds, Jing Yuan." the sternness of your voice snaps him out of the daze he's in, immediately rising up from the bed only to groan in pain when the wounds that you had just wrapped up react to his body folding, "... And still don't know when to rest - even when I'm in the middle of treating you."
"...How much time has passed?" he asks, voice hoarse after having slept for who knows how long. You only hum, setting the bandages aside - the gesture causing Jing Yuan to follow your hand movements which makes him notice the bloodied bandages inside the trash by your legs.
"A couple of days, I was just finishing changing your bandages when you finally woke up. Here, some water." you inform, raising a glass towards his lips, patiently waiting for him to move closer.
You only start to speak again after he's taken several gulps, placing the cup of water back on the nightstand beside his bed. "Why are you so willing to throw your life away?" you ask after a moment of silence, helping Jing Yuan rest against the headboard, eyes never leaving his own that don't dare to even look into your own.
"It's my duty-"
"Your duty is to make sure as many of the Cloud Knights survive a battle. Not gamble your life on a piece that you weren't sure had the capabilities to help."
Jing Yuan bites his tongue at your immediate rebuttal, you were right after all. "The Master Diviner was right there by you. A troop was enough to guard the entrance, you didn't need to leave the master diviner with them to go on this-"
"... Can't you be happy for once whenever we meet like this?" he asks quietly, effectively stopped you from saying anything more. His gaze is cast downwards whenever he mutters the same question to you whilst shrinking a bit after asking. There's no sign of the proud general in your presence - in front of you is just Jing Yuan asking a supposedly harmless question.
Perhaps that's the reason why you can never shove him away immediately.
"... You know what my answer is."
Jing Yuan was no crier. In fact, you think he stopped crying or showing any visible sign of discomfort or uneasiness the day he got the title as General. You're pretty sure you can count the amount of times you've seen Jing Yuan cry on one hand.
Perhaps his ability to hide his own needs and wants so often day by day for the past centuries makes your dismissal of his simple wishes that more gut-wrenching for you. You try to ignore the overwhelming guilt that washes over you every time you have to say the same thing to him.
"... You have a lot of things that you want to get done on the Luofu, Jing Yuan." you murmur softly, extending a hand to run your fingers through his locks, breaking apart any knots that may have formed in his sleep.
"You know we can meet again, but now is not the time - especially now," you gently remind with a sombre smile, your hand moving from his hair to rest against his chin to make him face you.
"It's gonna be alright, okay?" he scoffs at your reassurance, finally coming to terms with your conditions once again like always, wrapping his arms around your waist to fall down back on the bed with you on top.
"Remember the last time you said those words to me?" he says, almost sounding offended at your choice of words to which you only smile against his skin in guilt.
"It was the first time I saw you cry so hard," you try to joke, pressing your hands against the mattress to push yourself off of Jing Yuan, choosing to hover above him instead.
"... I'm sorry," you decide to say in the end after a moment of silence, once again threading your fingers through his hair - an act you knew used to calm him before. At this moment though, you're not so sure.
"Why? Shouldn't I be sorry?" he asks in return, a small yawn leaving his lips as his eyes struggle to stay open. You smile bitterly as you shake your head, still threading your fingers through his hair.
"No, none of it was your fault - what happened back then was out of your control. But this time it isn't. I can wait for a long time, Jing Yuan. I know you're aware of that so don't try to rush anything to meet me again." you tell him, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead.
"So it's time to wake up, dear. Luofu is waiting for you."
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reiderwriter · 3 months
Note
For some reason my comments don't come through on your posts, but I want to first say I absolutely love your writing and I'm so happy your requests are open!! 🥰😭 So I've had this idea of a fluff mixed with spencer angst where reader is maybe interning at Diana's facility (not a dr yet, studying) and becomes close with Diana by reading, chatting, etc and Spencer over hears it from time to time and the dialogue between spencer and reader gets too close for Spencers comfort, but Diana wants her around more. Thank you again for your hard work okay bye!
A/N: I've never written a fic with Diana in it before, so this was a bit of a challenge for me, bit I enjoyed writing it a lot! Hopefully, this is somewhat like what you wanted!! ❤️
Warnings: Spencer is a bit dense (real) and puts his foot in his mouth (metaphorically, of course).
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Diana Reid's son was exactly the way she described him, down to the tiny curls at the base of his neck and the glimmer of intelligence in his eye. 
After four weeks interning at the care facility while working on your medical degree, you'd spent a considerable amount of time with your favorite patient, and her stories about her son were legendary. 
At first, you weren't sure whether to believe the woman when she said her son was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs, and a job in the FBI. She wouldn't be the first schizophrenic patient to muddle up her facts, but she certainly was the sweetest. 
So when you recalled your conversation with the head nurse later that day, she laughed and confirmed every story about Doctor Spencer Reid. Your mouth hung open in shock because surely nobody that incredible could just be out walking the streets. 
Another month of conversations about the man, and you were half in love with him. He wrote his mother letters every day - hand wrote them, even - and she's shown you a few. He'd talked about his friends, his team, his jobs, and how he was saving lives. And when one of the latest ones dropped in the news that he'd be free for a visit soon, you found yourself overflowing with anticipation. 
Of course, you felt like you already knew the man. You knew what his first words were, what his favorite toy was growing up, and even about the exploits of his first date, as pitiful as it was. What you didn't know was if Diana was passing along similar information about you. 
The day Spencer Reid finally showed up, he took your breath away. You were mostly in awe of Diana's ability to describe her son perfectly, though you'd grown fond of her perfectly professional English Lecturer tone of speaking over the last few weeks. She was practically lyrical when talking her son into existence. 
“His hair curls beautifully. He's my little adonis. He keeps it too long though, I'm always telling him he needs to cut it because it hides too much of his face,” she'd told you one day before picking her book up and ignoring you for the next half hour. 
“My Spencer is delightfully tall. He's a little bit spindly like a spider. He's not the most grateful, that's for sure, we used to call him crash because he was always bumping into things. Poetic, right?” 
You knew from the second he walked through the door that this man was him. 
Tall, slightly hunched, clutching his satchel strap in his hand, terrifyingly handsome and making your hand jump into your throat. Definitely him, and definitely a problem. You'd have to check the code of conduct about falling hopelessly for a patient's beautiful son. 
If you had any doubts, this was Spencer in front of you though, when he bumped into a chair just as he was about to reach his mother, it was confirmed. 
“Diana, I believe your Crash is here,” you smiled and giggled, watching her turn quickly to greet her son. 
You, too, gave him a warm smile, but he seemed a little hesitant to return it, instead greeting his mother softly and sitting with her while you retreated slightly to give them some privacy. 
You hovered in the space, as Diana had been talking about introducing the two of you all week, and you didn't want to distress her if she couldn't find you close by. 
But though Spencer was closely attentive and soft with his mother, he took brief pauses to stare almost frustratedly at you. You weren't sure what it was, but something about you was setting Spencer on edge, and that in itself was unsettling you as well. 
“Oh, Spencer, you must meet our Y/N. Y/N, come here, this is my son, Spencer.”
Slightly more apprehensive now, you held out your hand to shake his, “I've heard so much about you  it's nice to finally be seeing you in person, Doctor Reid.” 
He didn't shake your hand, though, but awkwardly waved it off quickly, leaving you to awkwardly replace it by your side. 
“Nice to meet you. Are you a new attendant? I asked all updates about my mother's companions to be confirmed and passed on to me, patient and carers included.” 
His tone was business-like and clipped, and you could see a gentle annoyance settling on his features. 
“I'm sorry, Doctor Reid, I thought Diana would have told you in a letter, or the administration would've passed it on. I'm a medical student on an internship.” You felt like you'd been chastised by an irate parent though he'd at no point raised his voice or indicated in his words any sense of anger at all. His eyes burned across your skin, though, and you felt a flame heat your skin under the weight of his stare. 
“You're mother has told me a lot about you though, she reads me your letters sometimes, between our discussions of Marjorie Kempe.” 
“My letters? Mom, we've talked about this. Those are private.” You looked at the quiet disappointment on Diana's face and felt protective over the woman all of a sudden.
“Please, I'm sorry for overstepping, but your mother is just very proud of you. She talks about you a lot actually, and your job-” 
“With all due respect, Y/N, the last time my mother talked to a new friend about me, he traveled to Virginia and shot one of my friends, so this really is a conversation I'd rather not be having.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach as he turned back to his mother and started talking to her gently again about personal security, effectively dismissing you from the conversation. 
You'd had stupid hopes for Spencer Reid, and that's all they would ever be. 
Reid talked on, and you left him alone with his mother, though she seemed distracted by your departure. 
“Spencer, that wasn't nice. Look at that poor girl. She's close to tears.”
“What? Mom, are you even listening to me?” 
“No, and I likely won't until you go and apologize to Y/N. She's a pretty girl, Spencer, and she was very excited to meet you.” 
“Pretty…. Mom, please.” 
“What, do you disagree? You think I don't know you well enough to know when a girl would suit you well? Or do you think I'm blind to the fact that you were stealing glances at her before she introduced herself.” 
Spencer went quiet at having been caught, and he hated to accept that maybe his mother was right. 
It was true as well that the care facility had informed him of medical interns coming and going in the next few months, and really, she wasn't to blame for his mother being fond of him. 
He was glad, though, that neither of them had noticed the ten minutes he'd spent just outside the large sitting area watching them talk. He'd been obviously taken aback to see someone new so close to his mom and his mom similarly comfortable. He felt even worse for the fact that for a solid minute and a half, he'd stared at the girl with no other thought in his head than the sound of his heart skipping a questioning beat. 
He'd pulled himself out of it eventually, but only when another nurse had come along to ask him if he'd actually be visiting his mother today or just dropping in to check on her. 
And then he'd bumped into that infernal chair when he was so fixated on getting to them, and she'd opened her mouth and called him crash, and his heart had sank. 
He reminded himself it was neither of their faults and inwardly cursed himself for being so unfriendly with someone who'd taken such good care of his mother recently. 
He promised himself that he'd talk with his mom and then go and find the woman, and apologising for being such a brute. 
“Spencer, are you listening to me, or are you busy daydreaming about my nurse?” 
“Mom!” 
“You're plain as day, kiddo, you'll never get anything past me. Now please, leave me be, I'm reading. Come back later if you must, but for now, take this to Y/N for me, please. She left it with me to read this morning, but I'm not in the mood for Medieval Romance right now.” 
It was a blatant lie, but a dismissal nonetheless, and Spencer quietly took his chance to search for you in the halls. 
The head nurse humorously pointed him in the right direction without him asking, much to his annoyance, but he persisted and lightly tapped on your shoulder to greet you. 
“Oh, Doctor Reid, hello again.” You smiled a little smaller this time, still polite, but he watched the way it didn't reach your eyes and felt like a jackass all over again. 
“My mom told me to come return this book to you.” He held out the book, and you quietly took it, folding it into your arms and hugging it tightly against your chest as you both stood there silently after the exchange. 
“I'm sorry, as well. I wasn't exactly very friendly back there, because-” 
“It's okay, Doctor Reid, you really don't have to explain. I overstepped, it's my fault and it won't happen again.”
“Are you kidding? My mom hasn't looked that relaxed in years. Please keep overstepping.” 
Your smile widened slightly at the compliment, and Spencer's tongue kicked into hyper drive immediately at the sight, even as his brain powered off. 
“You're pretty,” he blurted out, stopping only as his brain caught up with his tongue before firing off again. “My mom said you're pretty. I agree as well, though, you have a nice smile, and it's better when you don't force it. Not that I'm telling you how to smile, though. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but my mom made me come over here and talk to you, even though I'm pretty sure that's her book and not one you loaned her.” 
He took a moment to catch his breath as you blinked at him in confusion, heart beating rapidly even as you heard the blood rushing through your ears. 
“If you're free now, would you want to grab a coffee? Unless you have a boyfriend. Or husband. Or girlfriend or wife, I guess, I don't mean to presume. But if you're free, as in time, and free as in, like, relationship wise, I'd like to buy you a coffee to thank you for listening to my mom.” 
He finally stopped, and you stared wondrously at the reddened skin of his cheeks as he held his breath, waiting for your reply. 
“You want to take me out for coffee to thank me?” 
“Yes.” 
“And on a separate note, I'm pretty, and you want to know if I'm in a relationship?” 
“I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me, I'll just see myself out. It was a stupid idea anyway-” 
“No, wait, Spencer! Let me… let me grab my coat. My lunch break is in half an hour, and I'm sure it'll be okay to take it early.” You held his arm for a second, stepping slightly too close for comfort before realising yourself and taking a tiny step back.
He stood and blinked in your direction, as though wondering seriously for a moment what your lunch break had to do with him. 
“Are you going to stand there staring at me, or are we going to go out?” 
“You're serious?” 
“I guess…. I guess I am.”
“And you're… you're single.” 
Your mouth went dry as his skin finally completed its transformation from vampiric to tomato red. You desperately hoped your own embarrassment wasn't equally as readable on your face. 
“Quite single. Medical students don't have that much time to date.”
“Neither do FBI agents.” 
“Perhaps a subject we could talk more about later?” 
“Definitely.” 
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