#I've tried a different approach this time hope you like them!

[ikeuverse]

MR. FUNNY GUY — l.heeseung

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, humor WC: 3.8k+

WARNINGS: a few swear words, mentions of alcohol. yeji, sunghoon's sister, is portrayed in this fic as being of age, because there is a part that insinuates that she has been drinking.

NOTES: this came to me as a totally random thought and made me want to write it, without pretension. yes, konon is written as jake's girlfriend just because i wanted something totally different, and i've never seen anyone put her as the girlfriend of any of the boys. idk, nothing special, hehehe. i hope you like it!

 masterlist

Every group of friends consists of having outstanding personalities or a representative for each thing among them. Heeseung could be the personification of the funny kid.

He had always been in charge of making the best jokes and making everyone laugh ever since he met his friends at the end of high school and the beginning of university. With Heeseung around, it was as if there was no sadness at all.

Even his attitude was that of a big, awkward, funny guy, which gave him even more credit for his antics. 

Heeseung was responsible for making Jake stop crying when he got his first low grade in calculus at university. Not even his girlfriend was able to cheer him up, but Heeseung trying to prepare a smoothie and forgot to close the lid of the blender, causing all the fruit and mixtures to fly around the kitchen... Oh, that got a good laugh out of Jake. And a few curses from Jay, for sure.

Heeseung was also responsible for making Sunghoon and Yeji cry with laughter a week after their puppy went missing. She was crying and he said he would help his friends find her, even if their hopes were slim. Heeseung did find her, but that didn't stop him from coming back all wet and with mud all over his shorts because the dog had wandered into a garden and he ran with his life to rescue her. Telling that story out loud made it all worthwhile in the end.

What Heeseung never managed was to get many smiles out of you, Yeji's best friend. It wasn't as if you and she joined Sunghoon's group of friends very often, but when you did, you were the only one who stayed quietly in the corner of the room and didn't crack a smile when he made a joke.

At first, it didn't make much difference to him, not least because you only appeared occasionally and Heeseung only found out about you sometime later. Because you really were so quiet that you seemed almost invisible. But as time went by and Yeji attended more and more of the boys' meetings – even more so after she and you made friends with Jake's girlfriend – Heeseung didn't want to admit it, but he started to feel a bit insulted. 

Why weren't you laughing at his jokes? Why didn't you crack a single smile at his antics in front of his friends? You were supposed to hate him, in Heeseung's mind. That was the only explanation for why he never saw a single curved movement of your lips.

"Relax, man" Sunghoon said one night when the two of them were in the kitchen preparing the popcorn for the movie. "Yeji said that Y/n is like that, very closed," he took a larger bowl to pour the contents into, placing it next to another in case he needed a spare. "She took a while to open up to the girls, so maybe it's nothing personal."

So it would seem. Heeseung thought, rolling his eyes as he tried to forget about it and focus on the movie night they all had together.

A whole month passed and he tried not to focus on the thought that you didn't like him, because if that were the case, Heeseung would have gotten there first. He knew everyone there before you did, so if you didn't like him, you might as well not hang out with them anymore and just be friends with Yeji and Jake's girlfriend.

But no, that night what he wanted to happen happened. And without expecting much, without creating any expectations that you would smile at him.

"What are you three doing?" Sunghoon approached and ruffled Yeji's hair, hearing his little sister grumble and curse him for it. 

"Trying to make sushi at home" she huffed "But Konon's the only one who can, and she gives the hardest tasks to me and Y/n to do."

"Come on, I think we're doing fine," you said, avoiding looking at Konon because you knew she was laughing at the two of you.

You held up a hot roll you had just rolled, hoping it wouldn't fall out of your hand and spill all the rice. Your eyes met Sunghoon's and then looked at Heeseung, who was standing in the kitchen doorway.

"You're doing a great job," Sunghoon complimented.

"Yeah, long and crooked... Looks like Sunghoon" Heeseung pointed to the hotroll in his hand, and he almost shouted when he heard the sound of your laughter.

It wasn't possible what Heeseung's eyes were seeing at that moment. You. Laughing and then smiling at him... Did that really happen?

Sunghoon abruptly turned to Heeseung as if he was thinking the same thing. Of course, he and the boys were the only ones to hear Heeseung's lament that you never smiled at anything he did. But now it had just happened.

And he wasn't sure if he wanted to see it again, because strangely Heeseung's heart was pumping in a way that he wasn't happy about. Not to mention the fact that, apart from thinking about your smile and the sound of your laugh for weeks, the boy wasn't proud to say that he had dreamt about it.

Was it stupid to say that he had actually dreamed of your smile? Shit, that couldn't be possible.

"Heeseung!" Jake shouted to get his friend's attention, snapping his fingers in front of his face.

"Fuck, what a fright" Heeseung wriggled in his chair "What's wrong?"

"I've been calling you for about five minutes, what world were you in?"

"In the world where Y/n keeps smiling at him" Sunghoon hummed.

Fucking bastard... How did Sunghoon have to be so direct like that? All right, his friends knew and couldn't stand to hear Heeseung fantasize about it for weeks, but hearing it out loud from someone else made him feel like a bit of an idiot.

"In my defense, I'm still in shock about this" he tried to say, hearing Jay's laughter from across the room.

"Still? How long has it been... like, three weeks? A month?" he asked, already knowing the answer. If Heeseung were to count, it had been a month and a few days, because every month the girls tried to make a different food. And he distinctly remembers his skills – not unlike Konon's – in rolling the seaweed into sushi.

"Do you like her?" Jake sprawled further back on the sofa, almost throwing his legs over Heeseung's lap. Sunghoon was sitting on the floor staring at the TV while the movie was still playing.

"What? No" he said too quickly, regretting it the moment all the boys' eyes landed on him.

"Dude, you literally went to great lengths just to make her laugh for you" Jay got up from his chair to walk over to Sunghoon and sit down next to him on the floor.

"And when that happened, you didn't stop talking about it the whole time," Jake added.

"I said you could all make me stop talking—"

"We don't want to, it's cute" Sunghoon smiled "Besides I think it happened a few more times after sushi night."

"What?" it was Heeseung's turn to shout, startling Jake who was cursing at him quietly as he curled up on the sofa.

At that moment Heeseung was standing in the living room, pacing back and forth near the TV and watching his friends with mixed feelings. Jake was still recovering from his shock, Sunghoon was pressing his lips together, feeling guilty for saying it just then. While Jay held in his laughter and closed his eyes to wait for the conversation to unfold.

"You're just telling me about this now? Fuck Sunghoon, what do you mean?"

"Dude, I'm sorry" he said, "It's just that you got so excited about it that if I told you she smiled a few more times, you might explode."

"I'm exploding right now" from the coloring of his face, it could be possible.

What do you mean you smiled at Heeseung or something related to him and Sunghoon didn't say anything at all? Now he wanted to know, what was the occasion? Had he done something funny, said something at the wrong time, or made a joke? Or did you genuinely smile just because he was around? What had been the circumstance in which you smiled at him?

"All your gears are turning at the moment and I think it's my fault" Sunghoon got up from the floor, straightening his pants and then sighing, "But she smiled at times when you weren't looking."

"Why?"

"Look, I know your mind because I've lived with you for years, but I have no idea what she was thinking about it" Sunghoon's words had a unique effect on Heeseung. He was even more pensive.

"Yeah, he's right," Jake said.

"You too..." Heeseung then turned to Jay.

"Dude, we talked about this for hours and worked it out together," he defended himself, cringing when the other threatened to approach.

"Hey, calm down!" Sunghoon held him by the shoulders even though he knew his friend would do absolutely nothing to any of the three "Now that you know, you can do something about it."

"Yes, kill the three of you."

"Or talk to her and ask why" Jake shrugged and stood up, giving his best smile in response "Now how about we order something to eat? I'm starving."

"No, no more drinks for you today, young lady" Sunghoon snatched the glass from Yeji's hand, listening to his sister's protests even though she was already a little upset.

"But hey, we're celebrating" she tried to catch it, but to no avail, her older brother was taller and would surely use that to his advantage.

"Celebrating what? The loss of your liver?" Heeseung looked around at the number of glasses on the kitchen counter.

He sighed as he imagined that the owner of that house would have an extremely difficult time cleaning up, but his thoughts were soon cut loose by the sound of laughter that flooded the room. His body went still and his eyes widened at the sight of your standing in front of the kitchen door.

"Hey, Heeseung, you look like you've seen a haunting" you waved at him, smiling briefly and then turning your eyes back to the Park siblings.

"He just heard something" Sunghoon added.

Not knowing what it was, you didn't bother asking him and just walked into the kitchen where the three of them were still standing.

"What's going on?" you asked.

"Yeji's already drunk, so let's go home."

"But she's celebrating," you pouted "It's not every day you get an A in Professor Choi's class."

"The worst professor at that university" Yeji picked up a glass to raise and pretend to toast, then put it back on the counter.

"But you've had enough, so I think you'd better go home" he looked at his sister and then at you "Has Jake taken Konon yet?"

"They just got home, Jay told me as soon as I came into the kitchen" you looked around for something to drink "And you two, what are you doing here?"

Sunghoon had gone after Yeji before he left and Heeseung had been in charge of looking for you, so the two of them could take you home safe and sound. But he didn't want to say that out loud.

"We came after you two," Sunghoon replied.

"Okay, let's go" Yeji whined "I won't be able to finish my drink anyway."

"Not even if we just have one more beer? It'll be quick and—"

"Nope" Heeseung stood in front of you when you threatened to approach the fridge. Looking up thanks to his height, this was the closest he had come to you since you two met.

It might have been the effect of the drink or the moment itself, but he looked glistening and that had – strangely – made your heart flutter.

Blame the drink, blame the drink, please.

"Come on Y/n, these two dullards don't know what fun is" Yeji pushed past Heeseung, ignoring his protests as she grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the kitchen.

"That's it man, a few more moves and you two would be kissing in this kitchen" Sunghoon held Heeseung by the shoulders without missing an opportunity to tease him.

He acted on instinct to stand in front of you so that you wouldn't advance into the kitchen, right? He also ignored the distance between the two of you because he miscalculated his steps and Sunghoon was right to say how close you and Heeseung were. But those thoughts had to be pushed aside as quickly as possible.

And that happened when Jay's voice echoed in Heeseung's ears, standing next to his friend's car.

"Can you take Y/n home?" he asked. Heeseung didn't want to show his shock, but the orbs almost popping out in the expression that caught him off guard made Jay laugh right away "I've had a few drinks and I certainly won't be able to drive."

"But—"

"Take her and come back for me" Jay handed Heeseung the keys to his car.

"Why don't you just go along? I can drop you home later."

"Because I'm not finished here yet" Jay's lips protruded forward in a pout, he took a few steps away from Heeseung, nodding and smiling at his friend "And I don't want to witness anything pornographic in my car. Unless I'm the one doing it," he shouted the last part and Heeseung turned sharply in the direction you were with the Park siblings. 

He would have given anything at that moment for you to be so drunk that you hadn't heard any of the shit Jay had said so far.

"Where's Jongseong going?" Yeji asked when he saw the boy disappearing among some people in the garden of the house.

"He said he didn't finish whatever it is in there" Heeseung sighed "Come on Y/n, I'll take you home."

None of you missed the mischievous giggle that escaped from Yeji, soon to be joined by Sunghoon. Heeseung knew very well about his friend, but why did his little sister even seem to be complicit?

"Do you know where I live?" you asked so naturally that Heeseung had forgotten how serious you were whenever you were around him.

"No, but you can tell me while we go in Jay's car," he said, and you just agreed and let him guide you to the vehicle. Neither of you cared what the Park siblings said as you and Heeseung walked to Jay's car. He showed himself to be a tremendous gentleman by opening the door for you and checking that everything was okay until you buckled your seatbelt so he could close the door and turn the car around.

"Can we go?" he asked and you nodded, giving Heeseung the coordinates so he could get to your house.

For Heeseung, the silence was necessary while he reorganized his thoughts because, for the first time, he was in a place alone with you. That had never happened since the two of you met.

Now for you, the silence was agonizing because it made you think and observe. To think about how hard you'd tried to get away from that man next to you and to observe how well he drove. His hands firmly gripping the leather of the steering wheel, his long fingers drumming now and then when they stopped at a traffic light or how agile his hand was at holding the gearshift. You also found yourself swallowing when his hand accidentally hit your leg when changing gears. He wasn't doing it on purpose, you knew that, but it was inevitable not to smile quickly.

"We're here" he was the first to break the silence, indicating that he had followed your coordinates very well, and now the two of you were parked inside Jay's car and in front of your apartment complex.

You looked out of the window, a sigh escaping your lips as you looked back at the boy in the car sitting next to you.

"Thanks, Heeseung" you said sincerely, opening a smile when his eyes met yours. Heeseung smiled too, but he didn't look so happy about it. He seemed... Annoyed?

"Can I ask you something, Y/n?" he said just like that, not even bothering to respond to your thanks. But you didn't mind either, after all, your sobriety was starting to kick in, but even so, your alcohol-addled body made you more curious than usual.

"Anything," you said.

It took him a while to formulate that question, pondering whether he should really ask it or just let it go and get on with his life as if it didn't affect him. But it certainly did. Heeseung knew why he had dreamt it, he had to ask.

"Why haven't you ever smiled at me?" might seem like a silly question from the outside, or even sad if the person was as sentimental as Heeseung.

At first, your eyebrows drew together in surprise. But then everything relaxed and you unbuckled your belt to turn around and face the boy.

"What do you mean?"

Heeseung repeated your gesture a few seconds later, unbuckling his belt and turning to face you too.

"I mean, ever since we met you've never smiled at anything I've done," he shrugged, trying to sound firm in his words, not wanting to waver or show how ridiculous it might seem "Surely Yeji has already let it slip that I'm the clown of the group and, I don't know, you're the only person who's never given me a single smile."

"Does that bother you?"

No. He should answer, to appear tougher.

"Yes, a little" Heeseung didn't want to follow his thoughts, he wanted to act on the emotion of the moment "I thought you didn't like me or, at worst, thought I was so dull that you begged the girls to get away every time we met in a group."

He was being so honest with you, opening up so genuinely that you felt a little bad. Maybe your way of acting on everything you'd heard hadn't been nice, you might have been a bit extreme with it.

"I'm sorry" was all you managed to say, without knowing exactly why you were apologizing. Whether it was for your reaction or for never getting to Heeseung and wanting to get to know him.

"Why?" he asked.

You didn't want him to ask, so you wouldn't have to explain yourself, you'd get out of the car and drive away. But Heeseung's sparkling eyes seemed to call out to you every second, guiding you to him as if you belonged there, staring at him as the words came freely out of his mouth.

"We have a group of friends at college and certainly Yeji's brother and his friends are sometimes a topic," your gaze quickly shifted to the window behind Heeseung. Anything being more interesting than his eyes paying attention to you right now "I once commented that... Well..."

"Say, it's okay," he tried to encourage you and you looked back at him, could blame it on the drink if something got out of hand, and would say the next day that you didn't remember anything you were saying. Even though by then your sobriety had reached more than half of your body.

"I told I thought you were very handsome" you nibbled your lower lip and continued, not even giving Heeseung time to process the information "A friend of ours said that you were not only handsome but funny, but that was a danger."

"What? Why?" he tried to shake off the tingling feeling in his chest and his cheeks heating up at the confession. So you thought he was handsome from the start.

"Have you ever heard of the theory of the funny boy being a danger?" you crossed your arms and snorted when Heeseung denied it with a nod "He'll make you laugh so much, you'll laugh. Laugh and laugh until you're naked in his bed."

It was his turn to laugh, hiding his face with his hands and messing up his hair.

"Shut up, don't laugh," you groaned in frustration, uncrossing your arms and trying to push his hand away from your face. The contact was electrifying, even if it only lasted a few seconds. Heeseung uncovered his face and looked at you.

"So Yeji's friend said that about me, and you believed it?" Heeseung wanted to sound confident as he raised an eyebrow, even though, if he had to get out of that car, his legs would be as soft as jelly.

"Well..." a few seconds passed and you sighed, "I avoided contact so I wouldn't have to believe it. I don't know, preserve myself as much as possible since you seem to be well known at the university."

"So you didn't want to smile at me because you thought you'd end up in my bed?" Heeseung leaned forward a little, looking a little defiant. You leaned forward too, your hands resting on your lap.

"You make all the girls smile, what difference would it make if I smiled at you?"

Don't be so honest, Heeseung thought to himself, but it was already done when he launched into it.

"Maybe because your smile is beautiful and when that happened on sushi night, I ended up dreaming for a long time."

"What? Did you dream about my smile?" you almost shouted in the car.

"Too many questions for one night, don't you think?" Heeseung pretended to shake himself, looking for the car keys that he hadn't even taken out of the ignition. Turning on the air conditioning might be a good idea since neither of you made any mention of leaving.

"Too many confessions for one night" you leaned back in your seat.

"I think we're going to need a few more nights for you to tell me more" he also leaned back in his seat, but his head remained turned in your direction.

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Would you?" he asked back, a stupid – but extremely beautiful – smile adorning his lips as he said again, "I want to prove that friend of yours completely wrong."

"I'd love that, then" to his surprise, asking you out had been completely light-hearted. He didn't feel like throwing up or running away, or even saying something silly, stuttering... Nothing. Heeseung was just himself as he watched you bend down to him and brush your lips against the corner of his.

From the way Heeseung's head was tilted, giving indications that he wasn't going to move, you purposely kissed him on the corner of the lips, pulling away before he made any risky moves.

"I'm waiting for a message from you so we can make an appointment, mr. funny man."

You winked at him, watching as the tip of Heeseung's tongue traced the exact spot where your lips touched the corner of his. The smile never left him as he watched you open the door, wave, and close it to leave.

A smile had never left Lee Heeseung like that.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[scaberix]

Given phone wallpapers (requested by @rooftopstars)

At least do NOT forget to credit me if you’re reposting these, please.

[ja3yun]

Push My Buttons | L.HS

bodyguard!heeseung x rich girl!reader warnings: enemies to ???, angst, smut (mdni), car sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, mentions of spit, possessive!hee, some violence, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 7.5k synopsis: lee heeseung has been hired as your personal security by your father. you and him don't see eye to eye, so when tensions rise at your best friends party, you both know how to push each others buttons. a/n: hi! this is a thank you for 1k! i still don't believe it if i'm honest because i don't think i deserve it but regardless, thank you all so much if you follow me! this is a little idea i had sitting on my laptop that i've decided to complete for this occasion so enjoy!

_____

Browsing through the racks of the Prada store, you can't help but feel acutely aware of the imposing presence of your hired security, stationed just two feet away.

"Do you have to stick to me like glue all the time?" you mutter, not bothering to meet his gaze.

“It’s my job, Y/N. You’d know what that was if you weren’t such a spoiled brat,” he spits back, his eyes rolling in exasperation.

Lee Heeseung was appointed by your father to ensure your safety during his frequent business trips. Unfortunately, your father's demanding role as CFO of a tech company keeps him away for extended periods. He doesn't trust you to fend for yourself, fearing that others might exploit you to reach him. Given your father's controversial reputation stemming from questionable business dealings, Heeseung's imposing presence is a constant fixture in your life.

Your bodyguard would be more tolerable if he weren't so insistent on being by your side every second. It's tiresome, really, how he clings to you like a shadow, never granting you a moment of solitude. If you go to the bathroom, he is right outside the door and if you dare try and sneak out the window - which you have tried numerous times - he is chasing you down the street, sweeping you off your feet and taking you home.

You had hoped that being only a couple of years older, he might adopt a more relaxed approach, letting you live your life a little, but you were wrong. Since the first day he turned up, he’s been nothing but a hoover, sucking the fun and freedom from your life all to keep you safe.

Sure, he probably knows deep down that he's a tad overbearing, but hey, he's clinging to this gig like a lifeline. Compared to his last job of being a bouncer at some dingy club, knocking back people with fake IDs and kicking out drunk people, your dad's cushy paycheck is like hitting the jackpot.

To Heeseung, you’re just some rich kid who has more money than sense, squandering it on everything and anything you deem a necessity at the time, only to then throw them away or forget about them. Considering he struggled to pay his rent before this job, he hates your whimsy ways with money. 

It's like you live in your own little bubble, completely disconnected from the real world. There are people out there starving and you’re buying thousands of pounds worth of clothes that you could easily get from a bargain bin for a fiver. 

Finally, you spare him a glance, “Just stand over there, okay? You really don’t have to be here and mess up my whole vibe,” you flail your arms around hoping the gestures will add some exclamation to your statement.

With a resigned sigh, he acquiesces, nodding, "In my line of sight at all times, got it?" He scans the area once more, on high alert for anything out of place, before reluctantly giving you some breathing room.

Heeseung blends in, looking through the obscenely expensive trousers which he is convinced he has seen the exact same jeans in thrift stores, just without the brand label. It’s a reminder of the contrast between you both; your lavish ways are still an alien concept to him.

He’s been in this role for 3 months and he won’t get over it, how different you both are. Your beliefs and traits are so starkly dissimilar that not once have you ever seen eye to eye. He doesn’t hate you, but he’s close to it. You always treat him with little to no respect and considering he’s only looking out for you per your daddy’s request, he would like to think you would be a little more grateful. 

Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted by a lone figure approaching you, a slick smile playing on his lips. Heeseung’s jaw tightens as he analyses the scene in front of him, trying to speculate what the guy wanted, although Heeseung already knows his intentions.

You’re too busy trying to decide whether beige or cream looks better on you as you hold out two vest tops to notice the incoming man.

“I think you should go with that one,” the sudden boom of a voice beside you makes you jump and turn to him, clutching the clothes to your chest as you try to still your thumping heart, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, beautiful.”

Normally, you pay no mind to greasy men like him, but his cinched suit which was clearly tailor-made to fit and his sleek dyed brown hair was enough for you to give him a second glance. You can always spare some time for people who look good.

“Which one?” you ask, holding them back up at arm's length.

“The left one, I think you would look sexy in any of them, to be honest,” he smirks, thinking he’s being so smooth but you’re not really impressed by flattery. You know you look good, you see yourself in the mirror every day. Plus, he’s only trying to oil you up so he can either as you out or try and fuck you. The only one who genuinely gives you truthful advice or says you look good and mean it with no intention is Heeseung.

Your bodyguard is watching like a hawk, face steaming with anger as the guy puts his hand on your waist, holding one of the vest tops to your chest area. He’s already given the guy enough leeway by even letting him speak to you, but now he’s touching you, and Heeseung will be damned if he lets him get away with that.

With measured steps, Heeseung comes up behind you, licking his lips as hugs you from behind, “Baby girl, are you almost done?” he whispers loudly enough that the unwanted man in front of you can hear, “Who is this?” he asks, eyes now pointed forward.

The stranger's confidence falters under Heeseung's intense scrutiny, his eyes widening slightly as he realises the gravity of the situation. Heeseung's demeanour is unmistakably protective, his stance leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. His eyes are so dark that the boy knows that one wrong move will have Heeseung pouncing on him.

“I’m Woobin,” he says almost inaudibly. It’s amazing how quickly he resigned from his cocky attitude as soon as Heeseung made his presence known.

"Do you work here, Woobin?" Heeseung's voice is a low rumble against your ear, his lips trailing a path of kisses down your neck to your shoulder. His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his hands caress your stomach, his thumbs tracing delicate patterns against the skin beneath your shirt

The butterflies in your tummy are fluttering around as if they’ve been disrupted from their nest by his touch. This is new, he hasn’t done this before, usually opting to just stand between you and potential danger. It's exhilarating and maddening all at once, the line between protection and possessiveness blurring in the heat of the moment.

Heeseung knows that if he simply said he was your security, it wouldn’t deter the man, he had to think on his feet. That and the way he touched you evoked something inside him, protectiveness laced with something else. 

“I don’t work here, I-”

“Then get your hands the fuck off my girl,” Heeseung interrupts Woobin, maintaining eye contact with him as he bites down a little on the nape of your neck, almost like he’s physically marking you as his own in front of a potential suitor.

Your head is in a frenzy, knowing that Heeseung is stepping far beyond his role of protection, yet, you don’t stop him. It would be lying to say that his lips didn’t feel good on your skin, the way his fingers lightly gripped the softness of your stomach gave you fanny flutters like nothing else; as he boldly stakes his claim, you can't help but feel a surge of desire mingling with frustration

But this is also the man that is currently cockblocking you right now, stopping you from getting Woobin’s number and potentially a good fuck that you’re clearly in desperate need of; why else would you be getting turned on by Heeseung right now? This is the man you cannot stand, he is the last person on earth you want to be with. 

Woobin awkwardly laughs and backs away, giving a slight wave to you as he walks out of the store, leaving you both in the thick silence.

As his form disappears into the distance, Heeseung stands by your side, his stare unflinching as he watches the threat go by, proud of himself for handling the situation quickly. Heeseung hasn’t let you go, his hands moving from your tummy to your waist, gripping it softly.

You don’t know what to do, still standing in a haze of shock and confusion, your eyes watching the back of Woobin with intensity. The man behind you didn’t even have to say much before Woobin was running with his tail between his legs.

Honestly, you know Heeseung can be intimidating, but this must have been a new level, even for him. You couldn’t see his eyes, yet, you know they held only room for intimidation.

Heeseung's attitude relaxes somewhat, but his protective stance remains firm. He slowly releases you from his grip, placing one last kiss on your neck for what reason he doesn’t know. 

You take a moment to compose yourself, internally dealing with the mixed feelings of the encounter before pure rage flushes over you, “What the fuck was that?” you seeth, twisting your body to face him.

“What was what?” he asks, unfazed by your angry demeanour. 

Slamming the vests back on the rack, you face him, your shorter stature suddenly being a hindrance as you try to act tough, “You know what! You just cockblocked me for no reason,” you ball your fists to the side of your hips, trying not to cause too much of a scene in the store. 

“Good. God knows what he had, he was a creep,” Heeseung’s face is stoic, not giving much of his emotions away which only serves to piss you off more. 

You wanted him to look a little bit sorry for overstepping, to say he was at least sympathetic towards your frustration. Instead, he just stands there, insulting the boy he didn’t even know.

Letting out a groan, you shut your eyes and unclench your hands, “I can’t ever have any fun with you around,” you try to calmly explain but as the words leave your lips, you begin to question why you’re trying to be civil in the first place. 

This man is the bain of your existence, the reason you haven’t had sex in months, he is utterly infuriating and here he stands in front of you with no remorse for ruining your life.

Heeseung nods, feigning understanding as he leans down to make eye contact with you, his nose almost touching yours, “I don’t know, baby girl, it seems like you were having a blast a second ago,” he says smugly, a half smirk creeping onto his face.

You beam red, embarrassment and anger mixing to create a shade of crimson you didn’t know you could make. He was frustrating, arrogant, irrational, rude, cocky, and overall just irritating. You hate Lee Heeseung.

Winking at you, he nudges his nose with yours before standing back up, his figure back to towering over you, “Pick the one on the right and let’s get a move on,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets and taking one giant step back. 

It was like he was mocking you, giving you your space after infiltrating it as if he wasn’t leaving wet kisses on your neck five minutes ago. 

With a huff, you face the two vests once again, looking between both options, each one having its own backer. You bite your lip and contemplate over them, choosing the one on the right.

_____

As you apply your final coat of mascara, you take one long look in the mirror. You look great, everything about you falls into place perfectly, your hair and makeup only adding to your beauty while the dress you’re wearing hugs you nicely.

Obviously, you don’t tell Heeseung that you had a party tonight, knowing that he would lock you up like some Disney princess in your castle. If there was one thing Heeseung hated more than men coming into your zone, it was parties where tons of men could. 

The last party you went to was just before Heeseung arrived on the scene, the bodyguard now never letting you experience any joy or social gatherings that weren’t accompanied by him or a simple meet-up with friends. ‘There’s too much risk at a party’ he will always tell you.

A knock on your bedroom door almost makes you drop the mascara wand but you catch it before it causes disaster. 

“I’m coming in,” Heeseung’s voice travels through the door before he swings it open. His eyes trail over your body as he assesses the outfit, “A bit dressed up for a night in with me, no?” he tries to pass it off as a lighthearted joke but he knows he’s about to argue with you about your plans.

“Oh, y’know, just thought I would try and make an effort to sit in and watch Louder Milk for the nth time,” you roll your eyes, twisting the mascara shut and turning to face him.

Heeseung grumbles, “Let’s cut to the chase where you tell me where you plan on going and I obviously stop you,” he crosses his arms and tilts his head expectantly.

But you can’t let him win, not this time around. It’s your best friend’s birthday night out and if you miss it, you’ll never be invited to anything again; you can’t miss a 21st birthday party and expect there not to be consequences, especially not in your circle of friends.

You finish getting ready with a sense of purpose, carefully placing your lip oil and hairbrush into your YSL bag. "I've got plans," you announce, nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders.

His brows furrow slightly. "You never mentioned we had plans tonight," he remarks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"We don't have plans, Heeseung. I do. And you weren’t invited," you retort, your tone tinged with sarcasm as you shoot him a playful smirk.

He raises an eyebrow, trying to decipher your intentions. "A party? A date?" he ventures, scanning your attire and deducing that this isn't just a casual outing.

As you attempt to breeze past him, he swiftly moves to block the doorway with his arm, his muscles tensing as he grips the doorframe. You lock eyes with him, noticing the frustration brewing beneath the surface.

His jaw tightens as you stand your ground, a silent challenge passing between you, "Tell me where you're off to," he demands, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone.

You really need to get fucked because he’s suddenly turning you on, and his body starting to look like a jungle gym. Regardless of the fury and hatred for the boy in front of you, when he got angry, he was a new level of hot; it’s probably the reason you subconsciously push his buttons.

“I am going to Ryujin’s birthday party,” you confess, taking hold of his arm and trying to pry it from the wall, but he’s too strong and it doesn’t work. Even with all your efforts, it doesn’t budge.

Smiling at your feeble attempts to move him, Heeseung cockily leans on one foot, the other tucking behind his leg as he watches you struggle.

Undeterred, you try to slip under his arm, but he effortlessly scoops you up and returns you to your room, closing the door behind you with a practised ease. His years dealing with drunks at his previous job have endowed him with certain skills in handling runaways..

"Don't make this difficult, Y/N," he warns.

"You're the one being difficult! It's my best friend's birthday. Are you seriously telling me I can't go? I'm not in danger, you know," you retort angrily, frustration evident in your voice.

Heeseung understands that you're completely oblivious to the dangers lurking around your family, shielded by your innocent perspective. No one has bothered to inform you about your father's involvement in money laundering and his dealings with shady men. In your eyes, having a bodyguard feels like an unnecessary intrusion into your life rather than a protective measure.

"Listen, let's just imagine I let you go. Where is it?" he asks, a tinge of apprehension in his voice.

"Serenity," you reply, already sensing the tension building.

Heeseung's eyes widen in disbelief, "Serenity? The bar down by the loch? Are you serious?" he exclaims, his concern evident.

It was a losing battle the moment you opened your mouth. The bar isn’t known for its good reputation, it’s sleazy and grim, and despite its calm name, no one who occupies the bar could be considered peaceful.

Ryujin picked it simply because she likes to cosplay as a poor person sometimes, wondering what it would be like to live on the other side of wealth while obnoxiously spending a shit ton of money, completely rendering her ideas pointless.

You don’t agree with it but she is your best friend, the only person that gave you the time of day when you didn’t have a penny to your name all those years ago.

"I am not letting you step foot in that place," Heeseung asserts firmly, drawing a line in the sand.

“She hired out the whole bar, it’s not like anyone can just walk in,” you try to reason back but it doesn’t work as Heeseung’s resolve remains the same.

“You aren’t going, end of discussion. The whole neighbourhood is trouble and your friend is fucking stupid for this,” he scratches his jaw as the worst-case scenarios pop into his head. He might not like you but he really can’t stand some of the thoughts popping into his head, the urge to protect you growing stronger by the second.

The loch is a small part of town, mostly made up of deadbeats and criminals. Word spreads fast around there and there is a high chance the scums of the area know a bunch of snooty rich kids are going to be there for the picking.

You need to go, you can’t cancel any more plans so you need to think of something quick, “You can come with me,” you suggest, stepping closer to him. Would it be overbearing and annoying to have him there? Yes but at least you would be there. And it might actually be good if he was, after all, he is good at his job; you feel safe around him and the more he’s warning you away from Serenity and the loch, the more you’re starting to want his protection.

“I thought I wasn’t invited?” He raises his eyebrows sceptically.

Placing your hands on his chest, you trail them up to his shoulders, a pout forming on your lips. "Well, I'm inviting you now. Please, Heeseungie?" you implore, employing your best puppy-dog eyes and fluttering lashes in an attempt to sway him.

Typically, your pleading face doesn't work on him, but the combination of your hands massaging his tense shoulders and the endearing nickname starts to chip away at him.

"Fine. We can go for an hour or so, and then I'm taking you straight back home, understand?" he relents, already second-guessing his decision.

You squeal with joy, wrapping your arms around his neck and jumping up and down. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Finally, you've managed to reason with him.

Pushing you away gently, he clears his throat. "Be at the car in 10 minutes before I change my mind."

This is going to end disastrously.

_____

"Remember—"

"In your line of sight at all times," you finish, a hint of exasperation in your voice as you recite Heeseung's usual mantra.

Heeseung unbuckles his seatbelt with a grunt, his irritation clear as he mutters curses under his breath. He can't believe he's ended up in this mess, much less mocked by you. He is well aware that this is a recipe for disaster especially as he examines the area and notices gritty individuals prowling around the loch's borders, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Heeseung is confident in his ability to handle himself; it's your safety that concerns him the most as he observes a suspicious figure crossing in front of your car.

You waste no time darting out of the car and hurrying to the club's entrance, leaving Heeseung trailing behind, a gust of wind in your wake.

"This fucking girl," he grumbles to himself as he parks the car and follows after you. He sees through your tactic—trying to get inside before him so he'll be left waiting outside while you venture off on your own. But he's not falling for it today.

He catches up to you just as you're about to give your name to the bouncer, his arm instinctively settling around your waist. The bouncer eyes Heeseung with a sceptical gaze, taking note of his attire and demeanour, which hardly scream 'rich kid bellend.'

As Heeseung squeezes your side, you shoot him a playful smirk over your shoulder. "Oh, this is my boyfriend. He's just trying to get into character for the place—dirty-chic and all that," you quip sarcastically, gesturing between him and the bouncer.

The bouncer chuckles at your comment, nodding in amusement. "You've done a good job. I almost mistook you for one of those creeps by the water," he jests, stepping aside to let you both in.

Heeseung doesn't react to your teasing or the bouncer's remarks. He's grown accustomed to such comments after spending the past few months with you and your friends. From being called shabby to poor, to filthy to crude, he's heard it all. Sometimes you apologise for your friend's words, but he knows the damage is already done.

It’s times like that that he has some faith in you, that you aren’t all diamonds and gold, that you do have a heart underneath it all.

Sticking close to you, you both end up at the bar ordering a gin and tonic for you and a water for himself. He knows everything about you by now, the constant watchful eye on you has got him to learn your favourite everything, so he finds himself ordering for you more times than not. That is, when you let him be actively seen with you.

"Can you vanish over there while I find Ryujin?" you ask, already scanning the room for the birthday girl.

Nodding, Heeseung points towards a nearby wall. "I'll be over there. If anything happens, remember to stay where I can see you. Don't run off; I will find you. And if you're going to the bathroom, come and get me," he advises, his tone firm as he leans down to emphasize the importance of his instructions.

"Yeah, sure," you reply casually, already making your way over to your friends at the other end of the bar, their excited screams and squeals guiding your path.

True to his word, Heeseung gives you space but remains vigilant, never taking his eyes off you. He's pleasantly surprised when three hours pass, and you're only on your second drink. Normally, he's had to carry you out of brunch with your university friends, and that's not even bottomless. Part of him thinks you’re remaining sober for your own vigilance, which makes him happy that you aren’t so reckless to get drunk in an unfamiliar setting around a lot of people you don’t know.

As the night progresses, Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you from his position against the wall. He observes the way you interact with your friends, the genuine joy evident in your laughter and the twinkle in your eyes. Seeing you light up like this is a rarity, but it warms something inside him to witness you truly enjoying yourself.

Despite his reservations and occasional frustrations, Heeseung takes his role of keeping you safe very seriously. The thought of anything happening to you weighs heavily on his mind, not just because of the potential consequences from your father, but because he has come to genuinely care about your well-being. It's a realisation that surprises even him, how much he's come to feel responsible for you beyond just fulfilling his duties as a bodyguard.

Day by day, Heeseung finds himself spending more time in your presence. Even when he should be stationed at the front door, he often finds himself drawn to your side, whether it's watching TV shows together or cooking dinner. Sure, these moments are often punctuated by arguments over his choice of shows or the random spices he adds to your meals, but they keep things interesting, injecting a sense of spontaneity into his otherwise regimented routine.

And truth be told, he finds a strange satisfaction in winding you up, relishing the sight of the vein in your forehead protruding whenever you're exasperated with him. Despite the occasional clashes, there's an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, a dynamic that keeps him on his toes and reminds him that guarding you isn't just a job - it's become a massive part of his life.

Recently, he has become extra protective over you, the incident at the Prada store being a prime example. Men like Woobin are not the ones he should be protecting you from, but he can’t help it, you’re too precious to be led off by the likes of him.

Shaking his head, he disregards his last thought. You’re not precious, you’re a princess, a snooty diva with an attitude problem.

This is what he has to tell himself every day.

He watches you go up to the bar and sit on the stool as you order another drink, but his attention shifts to a familiar face in the crowd. Woobin - and he is walking straight for you. Like he hasn’t dealt with him enough today, it was almost as if thinking about him that manifested him straight into your lap.

As Woobin twists the stool you're sitting on to face him, Heeseung's grip on the empty cup tightens, his knuckles turning white with the effort to maintain his composure. He knows he can't just stride over there like he did at the store; he crossed a line then, kissing your neck was too far, and biting down on you to mark you was too far. But the possessive feeling that had simmered earlier resurfaces as he watches Woobin casually tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

His mind races with a mantra, a desperate attempt to keep his emotions in check. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here.

But as he watches Woobin's hand graze your leg, Heeseung's resolve crumbles.

"Fuck this," he mutters under his breath, his anger boiling over as he pushes himself off the wall and throws his cup away. Without a second thought, he makes a beeline for you, determined to put an end to this unwanted intrusion.

You suddenly feel Heeseung's chest press against your back, his presence feels overpowering, his aura dark and intense. You glance at Woobin and notice the fear flicker back into his eyes, just like before, as Heeseung speaks with a menacing tone, "Have you got a death wish or something, mate?" His question hangs in the air, a clear warning.

Woobin takes a step back, but despite the quiver in his pupils, he refuses to back down. "She obviously isn't satisfied with you," he retorts, attempting to sound tough. "She hasn't even tried to bat me off."

You scrunch your face in disbelief at Woobin's audacity. His attempt to turn the situation on you is off-putting, and any attraction you may have felt towards him suddenly dissipates.

Heeseung's gaze shifts down to you, his eyes hooded as he leans in close. "Is that true, baby girl? Do I not satisfy you?" His words send a shiver down your spine, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you can form a response, he leans even closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispers in your ear, "You better agree with me, or else I'll punch his lights out, right here, right now."

His threat hangs in the air, leaving you feeling torn between conflicting emotions. As you struggle to find the right words, Heeseung's lips graze the skin of your earlobe, sending a jolt of sensation through you. You're unsure whether he's doing this to turn your mind to mush so you can do nothing but agree with him or assert his dominance over Woobin, who watches with a flushed neck, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's display of possessiveness.

Nodding slowly, you side-eye Heeseung, “Y-you do,” you say quietly but as he bites down on your ear and you yelp, you speak up a bit more confidently, “You do satisfy me.”

“Good girl,” he whispers, placing one final kiss on your ear, “You heard her, so get the fuck away from her, or I will throw your body in the loch and no one will even care to look for you,” he challenges Woobin, threatening him like some gangster.

As Woobin backs up and mutters ‘This is not fucking worth it’, Heeseung smiles triumphantly, knowing he’s scared him off for good. Heeseung fixes your hair, gathering it all to sit nicely at the back, running his fingers through it as he silently warns any other men in the club that you’re no one but his.

You hate to admit it, but it turns you on a little.

But your responsible head twists back on and you understand what Heeseung has done again, “Heeseung,” you slap his chest and push him away, “Stop fucking babying me!” Standing up from the stool, you weave through the people at the club in search of the exit, Heeseung’s antics finally pushing you too far. 

"I am doing my job, Y/N," he shouts over the chatter and music, his voice barely audible amidst the din of the club.

"No, you aren't. That is not your job," you retort, your voice rising above the noise. "Pretending to be my boyfriend and scaring away potential fucks is not part of the remit!"

Your words hang in the air, heavy with frustration and disappointment. You push him away one more time, creating some distance between you before storming out of the club.

Fuming with anger and adrenaline, you make your way through the car park, your mind racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you resents Heeseung for his overbearing behaviour, but another part can't deny the thrill you felt with his protective display. It's infuriating to admit, but the feeling of his possessiveness is sending shivers straight down south, You hate that you're even thinking like this.

His touch on your ear and neck lingers in your mind, igniting a whirlwind of desire and confusion. You're not thinking straight anymore, and if Heeseung catches up to you, you're not sure how you'll react - whether it'll be pure anger or pure lust.

Either way, you need to get this steam out. 

“Y/N! Get back here right now!” he shouts, pushing past the men who are ogling your figure. 

As you hear his voice, something takes over you. You pull the first guy you see into a kiss, holding onto this jacket as your mouth moves against his.

Heeseung sees red, blood red as he watches you kiss the stranger. It’s reckless behaviour, your lips moving roughly against a guy probably twice your age but, of course, the guy doesn’t mind. He wraps his arms around you to bring you in closer. That gesture shakes Heeseung from his shock coma, his emotions fueling him.

But Heeseung can't stand idly by any longer. With a guttural growl, he yanks the man away from you, his anger propelling him into action. He delivers a punishing punch to the man's face, the force of it sending him crashing to the ground, sprawled across the gravel of the car park.

Heeseung doesn't stop there. He delivers a few more swift kicks to the man's prone form before turning his attention to you. Grabbing your arm with bruised hands, he hauls you towards the car, his grip tight and unforgiving.

"You're so fucking irresponsible," he seethes, his voice dripping with venom as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions raging inside him. The veins in his neck bulge with the intensity of his anger, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire.

“Sorry if I want to have some fun,” you argue back, trying your hardest to release yourself from his firm hold.

As you both approach your car, he opens the door and shoves you in, “And kissing and fucking random guys is fun?” he slams the door behind you once he knows all your limbs are inside the vehicle.

Striding over to the driver's seat, he gets in quickly, locking the doors so you can’t make a quick escape. You don’t even attempt to try and flee, already knowing you’re only going to end up in a game of cat and mouse all night, and in this weather with your dress isn’t fun. 

“I’m 20 years old, nearly 21, I can fuck if I want to,” you shout back, slamming your hand on the backrest to hammer home your point. You are old enough and wise enough to make your own decisions, Heeseung is only there to make sure you don’t end up getting kidnapped or whatever it is your dad thinks will happen to you.

"It's not wanting to fuck that is my problem, it's who you want to fuck," he growls, his voice tinged with bitterness.

You want to slap him, angry that he doesn’t seem to get it, “I don’t get to fuck anyone thanks to you,” you retort back with venom laced in your voice.

His entire body turns to face you, his gaze piercing through you as he asks, "You want to get fucked?"

“Yes! Obviously!”

Heeseung lunges towards you, pressing his lips to yours in a matter of seconds to your answer. At first, you’re confused at what is happening, the unfamiliar feeling of his mouth melting into yours causes your head to thump.

But as he moves you to lay back, flicking the seat to recline all the way back, you find yourself chasing his body with yours, your lips like magnets as they draw themselves back to his. He tastes sweet, not like how you expected, you were presuming it’s the flavour of his vape he swears he doesn’t use.

Shuffling your way up the seat, you spread your legs so he can situate himself neatly in between you, knees resting against the edge of the seat for support, his hands roaming all over your body and his kisses never faltering. 

He was hungry for you, those tiny tastes of your neck served as appetisers before the main meal which was your mouth and tongue. Roughly, he brings one of his palms to cover your throat as squeezes, the consequential parting of your lips as you gasp gives him access to lick into your mouth. The grip on your throat is heavenly, just tight enough to make your brain go fuzzy but not to the point you think you’re in danger.

With a quick roll of his hips, you feel the outline of his cock being pushed onto your core, even through jeans he’s prominent, only building up your anticipation more. He does this a few times, each time the rough edges of his zipper rub your barely covered clit, eliciting a moan from you.

Heeseung's smirk widens at your response, his gaze flickering with desire as he watches the desperation in your eyes. Without hesitation, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he repeats his question, this time with less anger and more longing. "You want to get fucked?"

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, your desire for him burning hotter than ever before. "Yes, please, Heeseung," you whimper, using your hands to hold his hips against yours as you rut yourself desperately against him, humping his length through his jeans. 

Heeseung almost feels bad for you, clearly, he underestimated how much you needed to seek release. No wonder you were willing to entertain someone like Woobin. He had to make this worth the frustration he has been causing you.

The pressure of Heeseung's hand around your throat tightens, eliciting a gasp from your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, "You sure you want to fuck a guy like me?" he hisses, his voice tinged with both agitation and desire, the intensity of his gaze burning into yours.

Despite the lack of air, you manage to choke out your response, your voice laced with desperation, "Yes, Heeseung, I need you."

A smug smirk plays across Heeseung's lips at your admission, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Oh, I know you need me, Sweetheart," he replies, his tone dripping with confidence. "You're staining my jeans as we speak." His words send a shiver down your spine, a potent mixture of arousal and frustration coursing through you.

But then his question cuts through the haze of desire, forcing you to confront the reality of the situation, "I'm asking if you want to go back to little Woobin now?" he taunts, knowing full well the answer already. He just wants to hear you say it.

With a shake of your head, you release your hold on his hips and begin to unbutton his jeans, determination blazing in your eyes. "No," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, I only want you."

“Thought so,” he kisses you again before releasing your throat, focusing his hand's attention on ridding you of your pants while you work to get his trousers out of the way. He tugs your underwear down, tossing them to his side of the car before lining himself up at your hole.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you try to push him to slip into you, but he keeps his hips rigid, only making you look more desperate for him. He taps your clit with the head of his cock, each time it slaps down, he echoes it with a tut.

“You don’t even know if I’ll fit,” his voice whispering in your ear as he licks the shell of it, “All those preppy rich boy cocks aren’t anything like mine,” he takes your wrist in his hand and guides you to feel his length as it sits neatly in your folds, “See?”

Whining, you pout, knowing he’s just teasing you for badness, “I promise I can handle it,” you say lowly, pumping his cock between your cunt and hand. The motion makes Heeseung hiss in pleasure, the feeling of his cock trapped only adding to his anticipation of being inside you.

He moves in for a chaste kiss on your lips, his touch soft despite the intense need between you, "I'll go slow," he tells you, his words a balm in the midst of the intense moment. Even in the heat of passion, Heeseung is driven by his instinct to protect you.

With one swift movement, he slides into your heat slowly, letting you stretch around him. Surprisingly to both of you, your pussy is accommodating him perfectly, the stretch a little painful but not unbearable. He shallowly moves his hips back and forth, watching his cock disappear into you further and further each time until he’s bottoming out and tapping your cervix lightly.

Heeseung isn't wrong when he tells you that no other cock you've had can compare to his. Every curve and ridge of his dick seems perfectly designed to hit every sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It's an otherworldly sensation, the way he gains traction with each movement, his confidence growing as he senses your comfort and willingness to take more.

"You're so tight, baby girl," he murmurs between kisses.

Lost in the throes of passion, you cling to Heeseung, your bodies moving in perfect synchronisation as you lose yourself in the sensation of him filling you completely. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.

Heeseung's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matches your own. His touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they trace the contours of your skin. The pads of his fingers roughly grab your tit that’s managed to escape your dress, twisting your nipple between his finger and thumb.

Your hands are in a similar position, running along his toned stomach under his shirt, trying to commit it to memory, just in case you never get to do this again. You wish this was happening with zero clothes in the way but the desperation between you both got in the way. 

As the intensity of your desire builds, Heeseung's movements become more urgent, his thrusts growing deeper and more powerful with each passing moment. You can feel the tension coiling within you, the promise of release looming on the horizon like a distant storm.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, Y/N. I won’t last much longer,” he admits, knowing that he’s close to the edge himself.

“Need it, I need you to cum,” you moan loudly, your hand leaving his skin to find your clit, rubbing it vigorously as you try and speed along your orgasm.

Your words drive Heeseung to pound into you faster, willing both of you to come undone together. The car shakes as you both speed up your movements, your hips trying to match his rhythm to create a deeper impact with each buck of his hips.

With a final, desperate thrust, Heeseung drives you both over the edge, sending you spiralling into ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling under him, the ropes of his cum coating your heat. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his cock swell and throb inside of you, “Cum with me, Y/N. Please.”

Circling your arms around his shoulders, you hug him close to you as his body shivers, still reeling from the aftermath of his climax. You lay like that for a few minutes, processing everything that just transpired between you both.

“Are you okay?” he asks, holding himself up to face you, one hand wiping your sweaty bangs from your forehead.

Nodding, you shut your eyes, massaging his shoulders lightly as you let bliss take over you, “I feel great,” you smile.

Heeseung grabs your pants from the driver seat and bundles them up, using them as a makeshift cloth to clean you up, spitting on them before running them along your swollen cunt, “We can’t do this ever again,” he says quietly, his breathing starting to regulate again.

“What do you mean?” you lean on your elbows, looking up at him with confusion, “Was it not okay?”

Of course, it was okay, Heeseung thinks your pussy might be the best he’s ever had, but it’s not logical to try and keep this fantasy alive. You were too different, this encounter was fueled by anger and rage between you both, hardly the start of a picture-perfect relationship.

He discards your underwear and pulls his own bottoms up, tucking his softening cock into his boxers and jeans, “It was great, but I’m supposed to protect you, not fuck you,” he says, shuffling back into his seat, starting the car.

“We’ll use protection next time,” you shrug, fixing your seat to sit upright, “It’s no big deal.”

Heeseung sighs, his frustration evident as he starts the car and pulls out onto the road. "You know that's not what I mean, Y/N," he replies, his voice tinged with resignation.

The rest of the drive home is filled with silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Heeseung's thoughts swirl with the fear of losing his job, the guilt of failing to protect you, and the sudden need to be inside you all the time.

“We forget about this, okay?” he asks, eyes flickering to you.

You nod in agreement, but a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, betraying your true thoughts. Deep down, you know that you won’t forget about it, and this will certainly not be the last time you find yourself fucking Lee Heeseung - You'll make sure of it.

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Spies and Secrets

Summary: Natasha has never met her handler, she couldn’t give you their name or identify their face because she doesn’t know it. When she rants about this to you, her wife, you have to laugh... because you are her handler.

Word Count: 2048

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, lying in the relationship (not in a bad way, just in a spy way), but otherwise it’s just fluff!

A/N: I went back and wrote this idea since it seemed semi-popular. Hope you enjoy :)

»»————-　★　————-««

"Will you finally tell me who they are?"

"This again, Romanoff?"

"Just a first name?"

Fury sighs to make his vexation clear, but that's not enough to dissuade Natasha; she remains determined as ever in her mission and smirks boldly in the face of her exasperated boss.

"Just an initial will get me off your back," the spy continues through his silence.

Fury scoffs and Natasha knows she needs a different approach.

"If it's you, you can just say, Sir."

"Me? You must be losing your touch if you think I have the time for that, Romanoff. Should Hill be taking your next mission?"

Natasha stops and stares with faux hurt while Fury continues on, grinning to his own amusement. He wasn't going to let her keep the upper hand for long.

"If you want to know, ask them yourself!" Fury calls over his shoulder, "Mission debrief. C12-2. 10 minutes. They won't tell you though; above your clearance!"

Natasha groans. As much as she hadn't expected a substantial answer from Fury – she'd been asking him the same question for years – she thought she might be getting somewhere, but no matter which trick she tries, Fury doesn't budge.

On top of that, he'd reminded her that it wasn't home time yet, her mission isn't over until she's briefed her mysterious handler. So Natasha sighs and makes her way to the conference room, still wondering why only her handler chose to shroud themself in mystery. All the other agents meet theirs directly, while Natasha sits in a room alone, waiting for a shadowy silhouette to call in.

The first few years went by without a comment – it wasn't her place to ask – but as she rose the ranks and found her role, her handler, too, remained just above her clearance. Even now, as one of the highest ranking agents, her handler was higher still. Curiosity built like a dripping tap; manageable and menial to start, only to provoke greater displeasure the longer it went on.

"Hi Agent!" the disembodied voice crackles through the speakers. That's the other thing driving Natasha towards irritation, her handler's tone. It's nothing like Fury's commanding orations. No, her handler speaks with an eagerness and informality reminiscent of a junior agent meeting their hero, rather than the commanding officer that they are, and have been, since Natasha first joined SHIELD almost a decade ago.

"Officer." Natasha replies. She had never been told her handler's surname, or even a title she could use to address them. Any attempts she made to learn had been properly shut down, forcing her to stick with the appellation of Case Officer.

"Always so formal," her handler laughs. "As far as I'm aware, the mission was successful, so what's got you so grumpy today?" they continue, noticing an uncharacteristic clarity to Natasha's mood that day.

"If you told me your name, I wouldn't have to be so formal, would I?" the spy snaps back. "And I'm not grumpy."

"Natasha, we've worked together for nearly 10 years now. I know when you're grumpy, and I can throw in an educated guess that my identity is the cause?"

"I've spent my life working in secret," Natasha shrugs, then pauses in search of the right words. "I'm well accustomed to dubious legalities and taking orders from the shadows. I'm also well aware that I would be a risk to security from the moment I joined until I gained the trust of this organisation, so I understood your secrecy."

Natasha stops again, noticing the silhouette begin to fidget; whether out of boredom or discomfort, the assassin can tell the time is right to make her final argument.

"We've worked together on hundreds of missions over this past decade, enough for you to know every detail of my life and mind, while I still know nothing about you. Have you thought about how that might hurt, officer? because it does! to believe I still haven't gained your trust after all this time. That hurts."

The room stills to a silence as fragile as Natasha felt. Her handler's reaction would dictate the situation; any information given could redefine the relationship between the two spies, just as another brush off would leave Natasha spiralling further into this curiosity.

A sigh finally echoes through the speakers; its long pause circling the sole inhabitant of the room. "It's above your clearance," the voice admits. Natasha slumps; she should have known better. "But-" The speed at which Natasha perks up draws out a small chuckle from her handler, before they continue with an audible smile, "I'll talk to Fury. See what I can reveal."

Natasha settles in her seat, unable to keep the broad smile from her face. "I do trust you, Romanoff, I hope you know that… I just don't think I'll be who you expect."

As a trained spy, Natasha wouldn't let that last line slide, immediately thinking of its hidden meaning. But before she can ask further questions, her handler clears their throat. "I think it's time we actually start the mission debrief."

»»————-　★　————-««

Natasha can't wait for the meeting to end. She understands the need – giving her side of the story, answering questions, sharing the intelligence she'd gained – but it drags on without incident and without any further comments on her handler's identity, so she'd much rather be at home. 

What reason was there for her not to do this from home? Her handler calls in from wherever they are, so realistically, Natasha could also pick up from wherever she is. Ideally at home, after a relaxing shower and a little time with her wife. Natasha supposes that's where the issue may lie: you, her wife, who has been led to believe Natasha is a security guard and nothing more. If you overheard a debrief, not only would SHIELD's confidentiality be compromised, but you might never forgive her lies. Natasha's home office was soundproofed though and, because of that, the assassin would take the risk if it means extra time with you.

Throughout Natasha's homeward journey and all through the mission debrief, you are the only thing to occupy her mind. Her mission finished in late afternoon, so she had planned how she would surprise you and spend the evening together upon her return, but then the debrief cropped up, and by the time her key is in the door, the sun has long since set, leaving her to wonder if you're even still awake.

You are. Just about. Your pyjama clad figure appears in Natasha's sight and you rush down the stairs to meet her by the door.

"You're home!" You beam as you wrap your arms over her shoulders and take her cue for a kiss.

"I am."

"How was your mission?" you tease. You know how seriously she takes each assignment, always doing prep work in her office ahead of the trips; she treated them akin to a secret mission and you never missed your chance to rag her for it. 

One of your favourite methods of teasing is to liken her to James Bond, which only gets more realistic when you catch her mouthing along to the movie lines.

"Top secret. Can't tell you," your wife jokes back, her smile threatening to burst off her face.

"No injuries this time?"

"None at all."

"Good girl." She preens. "Have you had dinner?"

"Not yet, I came home as soon as I was done. Couldn't wait to see you."

"Sweet talker," you laugh and kiss her again, then take her by the hand, "I put some leftovers in the fridge, you clean up, then you can eat and share your 'top secret' thoughts."

The evening's plan formed just like that; you reheat the noodle dish while Natasha takes a shower, before the two of you come back together to sit at the dinner table.

"So, how was it really?" you ask her.

"The job itself was alright, no problem." Natasha replies, but by the way she's stabbing the noodles with her fork, you can tell something else is coming. "But my bosses…they just won't tell me all the information. Say it's 'above my clearance'."

"The cheek of them."

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not, I'm not! I promise, love," you say, though you can't hide your barely contained laughter thanks to the prominent pout on your wife's face. You school your face back into an expression of neutrality before you talk again, "that sounds annoying. Do you need this information?"

"No," she sighs, "it's just a matter of trust."

"Well, you must be working with idiots for them not to trust you after all this time."

"Mm, you reckon I should tell that to them?"

"You definitely should."

The smile comes back to Natasha's face as she shakes her head, "you're going to get me fired, sweetheart."

"You're too good for them to do that. Just keep it up, you're going to be leading them one day, I'm sure of it. Then all the secrets are yours."

»»————-　★　————-««

Another week, another mission. And with another mission comes another mission debrief. Natasha asked for her handler's identity three weeks ago and still knows nothing more. With how poorly her recent mission went, she doesn't even feel like asking the question again.

"What went wrong, Romanoff?" that same anonymous figure asks her, and Natasha can only groan: what didn't go wrong?

"We were ambushed to start with; whoever gave us the heads up got their information wrong, or someone sold us out. Either way, the plan went to shit the moment we arrived and the team went to shit by throwing mole accusations around. Splitting up only made it worse; nobody trusted their teammates to do their parts and it resulted in a mad scramble. My orders were ignored, but my team members were injured and I take full responsibility."

"That won't be necessary, Agent," the voice hums, "as leader, the responsibility falls on you, yes, but it is each agent's responsibility to trust in you and follow your plan, and you will not be faulted for working with idiots who don't trust you."

Natasha starts to defend her team, before the familiarity of the phrase has her searching through her mind for a recollection. What she does remember is a long shot, but she'll lose nothing by asking.

"Do you have a wife, Officer?"

"I do," they reply.

"Is she a redhead?"

"She is."

"Works for SHIELD?"

"Why, it's almost like you know her," the handler goades. If one had an illustrated list of all of SHIELD's employees, they would know that the short game of 'guess who' still left a couple dozen potential employees in the running, but the teasing and testing tone is the final clue Natasha needs to make her assumption.

"Y/N/N?"

"Hey love," you reply, with as much adoration as you can muster, glad to finally be rid of the voice modulator while you talked to your wife.

In front of Natasha, the screen flickers before the silhouette that had become so familiar to her is replaced by another familiar sight in another familiar location: the smiling face of her wife…in her office.

Natasha's face falls at once, striking you with panic that this wouldn't be the gleeful revelation that you'd expected; that is, until the assassin speaks again. "Is that my desk?"

"It's your whole office, my love. I'm not taking these calls from our bedroom."

"Is that why it's sound proofed?"

"I gave the approval for that, if you remember, and it's certainly not because you're taking SHIELD calls at home; you haven't even had one while we've lived together!"

"That's because you organise it straight after the mission so I don't have time to go home!"

"Because that's where I am! you'd be suspicious otherwise."

Natasha falls silent for a moment. You know her well enough to leave her to her thoughts, only twiddling your thumbs as you watch her through the screen.

"So can I do debriefs at home now?"

"I don't see why not," you shrug, "remember I still have to take notes though, so I get the desk and no cuddling until after."

"No chance of that."

"Come back now, Romanoff, and we can put it to the test," you challenge.

She accepts. "I'll be there in 30."

"I know."

»»————-　★　————-««

Tagging: @supercorpdanbeau (since you mentioned you’d like to read it on the original post!)

[avatar-anna]

When You Fall In Love...

so i've been reading icebreaker and it's been putting me in the hockeyrry mood

part one, part two, bonus, bonus

Harry watched from the empty stands as Y/n ran through her routine for the fifth time. Her teammates had gone home, her coach asked Harry if he would lock up on the way out, and now it was just the two of them in the empty rink. There wasn't even any music playing anymore, Y/n was just skating and performing her tricks as if there was.

Every time she did it, it was flawless. Her routine was fast and intense and incredibly difficult, but Y/n performed with ease every time. She landed her tricks like they were nothing, tricks which Harry now knew the names of and could tell the difference between a lutz and an axel. She was incredible, and he was in awe of her every single time.

But even in her perfection, Y/n had yet to smile once.

Harry decided she'd had enough after she finished her fifth run-through, quickly jogging down to the edge of the rink before she could skate out to the middle again. He leaned over the barricade and kissed the top of her head. This close to her, he could see her rosy cheeks and heaving chest, a sign that her routine did wear her out, despite making it look so effortless.

"You were phenomenal as usual, baby," Harry said while he gathered her things.

"I bobbled a landing and my timing was off for a whole four counts," was her reply.

Harry frowned, not pleased by her recent negativity. Any athlete could be critical of their ability, but Y/n seemed uncharacteristically hard on herself lately, and he had no idea why. "Everything okay?" He asked, shouldering her duffle bag as they walked away from the rink.

"I'm fine."

She certainly didn't sound fine, but Harry decided not to push. Not now, anyway. Changing the subject, he said, "I got an email from the recruiter. I should be receiving my contract soon."

Excitement didn't even begin to cover how Harry had been feeling lately. Last week, he'd met with an agent of a minor league hockey team, one that was a feeder to an NHL team. He expressed their interest in Harry moving to the east coast after graduation and join them for spring training. And after giving it some thought, Harry accepted.

He was over the moon, thrilled that years of hard work was finally paying off. He'd made his passion into a career, and had the potential to really make a name for himself. Life couldn't have been better.

But where Harry seemed to be flying high, Y/n seemed stuck. She was happy for him when he told her the news, had gone out to celebrate with him that night. But something felt off between them. Harry couldn't put a name to it, but he just knew.

"That's great," Y/n said with no amount of enthusiasm in her voice. Harry tried not to take it to heart, she was clearly in a mood from her practice. She was under a lot of pressure too, he reminded himself, and sometimes had a knack for not knowing how to express herself with words.

"Is there something on your mind? You've been quiet recently," he said, hoping he wasn't overstepping her delicate boundary.

Y/n shook her head as she approached her car, sliding into the driver's seat without a word. Harry couldn't help but feel more and more like there was something on her mind, but he let it go again.

Before pulling the car out of the parking lot, Y/n rested her hand over his and leaned in to kiss him. "I'm sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind."

"It's okay. As long as you know you can talk to me about it."

Her throat bobbed, but she nodded, then turned her focus toward the road. Harry filled the silence with rambling. He talked mostly about the NHL, about his contract and where he wanted to live and how everything was happening so fast.

So caught up in trying to break the tension, he didn't notice Y/n's white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

*.*

"Styles! What the hell are you doing? Focus up! Let's go!"

Harry rested his hands on his knees, breathing heavily during the brief pause in the game. His eyes flicked up to the stands, searching the crowd for a familiar face, but he didn't see the one he needed the most.

Despite being recruited by a minor league hockey team, Harry was probably having the worst game of his life.

Not one pass connected, he was letting second-rate players get by him, and he'd spent more time in the penalty box than in the actual game. Nothing about this was right, and still all he could do was look for Y/n.

She wasn't there, and even though things had been weird between them recently, he was still surprised. When she wasn't at a competition of her own, Y/n came to every one of Harry's games. It had started out as Harry wanting to impress her, maybe show off a little, and then as time went on and they grew closer and their relationship became more than two people having sex in secret, he wanted her to be there just because it felt good knowing she was watching him play. All his nerves floated away when Y/n was sat in the stands, sometimes in his jersey, cheering him on.

And of course there were times when she couldn't come, but this wasn't one of those times. Y/n had purposely not shown up. He knew they'd fought before the game, but he didn't think she would abandon him just to be petty. They were past that now.

His sole focus should've been on the game he was playing, but instead his mind kept drifting to the fight.

Harry could feel Y/n pulling away from him. He finally felt like he was getting everything he wanted—a spot on a minor league hockey team on the east coast that would eventually lead him to the NHL, graduating with semi-decent grades thanks to Y/n, and of course being with his dream girl. At first, she'd seen him as some douchey athlete that was only good for one thing. He remembered seeing her for the first time their freshman year, performing tricks on the ice that he'd only ever seen on TV, and when he whistled and clapped loudly—perhaps a little obnoxiously—after she'd finished, she'd rolled her eyes at him and told him to fuck off.

It was love at first sight.

Harry had been so careful around Y/n. He played by her rules and followed her lead, trying not to let the comments about them not dating get to him too much. He liked their initial dynamic, finding it funny when he got under her skin because she made it so easy. It became a kind of game, this push and pull that was fun and exciting and eventually led to their arrangement.

He knew that she cared about him on some level, he just needed to bide his time and show her he wasn't who she thought he was. Not entirely, anyway. And when she finally did, and they became more than just people who screwed around, everything was perfect.

They'd been through so much together. Y/n pushed Harry to be better, and he worked with her to master new tricks and nail her routine. There wasn't anyone else who understood his level of commitment to hockey, but she did, and that just made him love her more.

So when he got the call offering him a spot on the minor league team, Y/n was the first person Harry told. She'd been happy for him, and he was over the moon, his mind already making a million plans—where they'd live, her coming to his games, him helping her find a new rink to train at. It felt like the doors to a new and exciting world had opened for them, but she then she started pulling back, and Harry practically watched as that door slammed shut.

Harry pushed himself to focus back on the game, on the hockey stick in his hand and the ice beneath his skates. He felt like it took more effort than it should've to get his head back in the game, but his team managed to pull out a win, and he managed not to get benched before it happened. That didn't stop his coach from ripping him a new one in the locker room, but Harry sat there and took it, shaking his head and promising his piss poor performance would never happen again.

Exhausted both physically and mentally, he trudged out of the locker room and toward the parking lot, debating whether to take the bus home or call an Uber. Even in his senior year, he still didn't have a car, but Y/n was usually there to give him a ride home. To their home. Moving in together for their last year of school seemed like a no-brainer, and it had been amazing so far, though the last week had been kind of a disaster. Harry could feel the tension between them growing, but every time he asked Y/n about it, she'd say she was fine even though they both knew everything was not fine, and the cycle continued. He wanted to be excited, he wanted to celebrate the success he'd managed to create for himself, but he felt rather deflated instead.

To Harry's surprise, Y/n was waiting for him in the parking lot. He didn't hesitate putting his gear in the trunk and coming around to sit in the passenger seat. Y/n leaned in to kiss him immediately holding onto the sides of his face fervently.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm sorry for not being here tonight and I'm sorry for acting strange, and I'm sorry for—"

"Y/n, what's going on with you?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Can we wait until we get home to talk?" She asked. I want to be able to talk to you properly, and I can't if I'm driving.

When Harry nodded, Y/n must've deemed it enough. She peeled away from the rink, silent tension filling the air between once again. It had been following them around all week.

That ended tonight, though. He didn't care how much Y/n hated confrontation or hard conversations. They couldn't move forward if they didn't move past this roadblock first. Harry loved Y/n more than he ever thought possible, and stubborn as she was, he knew she loved him just as much. He would get to the bottom of this, no matter how hard she tried to fight him on the way down.

*.*

"Y/n, you know I would be ecstatic if you'd told me you qualified for the Olympics. This is a huge step in my career! Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am! God, Harry, I am."

"Then why are you pulling away from me? I feel like I can't be excited about this around you when you're the one person who should understand how this feels."

"I can't do this. I can't have this argument with you," you said, trying to step away from him.

Harry was quick to grab your hands in his, keeping you from walking away. "What aren't you telling me? Do you want to break up?"

"No!

"Do you not love me anymore? What? What is it, Y/n?"

"God, I didn't—I didn't ask for this," you cried, feeling like a damn had burst inside you. It was out now, and now you had to see it through to the end. "I didn't plan on falling in love with you. I wasn't prepared to love you this much. You're the one who wanted to take things further, and now you're—"

You're leaving me, you couldn't bring yourself to say. You really were happy for him. All of his dreams were coming true, and he had an ambition that matched yours, which made you love him more. And now that ambition was taking him far away from you, and you weren't handling it as well as you thought you would.

"Y/n—"

"I'm happy for you, H, I'm so happy for you that I could burst. And maybe even a little jealous," you joked, though there was some truth to what you said. "But I guess I just...I guess I didn't expect to love you this much. And I don't—I don't know what to do because you're going soon and I'm..."

You had no clue, and that alone was terrifying.

At the start of all this, you never imagined falling in love with Harry. He drove you absolutely insane, and despite your physical attraction to him, you kept your distance. But he kept doing these things that made you like him, and eventually care about him, and finally made you fall in love with him. It just wasn't something you saw coming. Love was definitely not on the brain when you met Harry.

Because you knew this moment was inevitable. The moment when one of you would be given an opportunity you couldn't refuse and would pull you away from each other. Once upon a time, you thought you would be given your dream job of a lifetime—competitive skating and hopefully the Olympics—but somewhere down the line, skating stopped bringing you joy, only pressure and anxiety. And now Harry had his dream job on the other side of the country, and you were left to flounder and wonder how you would survive waking up without him next to you.

"You're making it seem like it's a bad thing that you're in love with me," Harry said quietly, but the low tone of his voice didn't hide anything. You knew he was getting upset. After all the avoidance the last week—on your part—yours and his emotions were coming to a head.

"It's not! It's just that you're leaving!" you said, resisting the urge to run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And all week you've talked about how excited to get out of here and leave this all behind and start a new chapter in your life. I mean, would it kill you to act like you're a little torn up about leaving?"

It was so selfish, and you knew it was. It was why you'd been avoiding Harry, this conversation. Harry had every right to be proud and ecstatic for leaving to play in the professional league. He worked so hard, pushed himself farther than anyone you'd ever met, except for maybe you. Your pain was clouding your good sense, and now you'd shown just how horrible you could really be.

You couldn't look him in the eye after saying what you did. Even if it was how you felt, you still felt ashamed for raining on Harry's parade. "Y/n—" he tried to say when you hastily wiped a tear from your eye.

"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry," you said, getting up from the couch and scurrying off to your bedroom.

Flopping on the bed, you pulled the covers over you, trying to hide from everything happening around you. It was too much. Your senior year was supposed to be fun and full of unforgettable memories, not arguments and heartache.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before the door opened and Harry slipped inside. He slid into bed next to you, and you didn't fight it when he rested his face in the crook of your neck. Because despite everything you were feeling, this was all you really needed.

"I'm not leaving you behind," he murmured gently. "You mean too much to me."

You sniffled, and Harry pulled you closer to his chest. "You're going to be thousands of miles away."

"Says who?" he said, kissing your cheek. "Who says you aren't coming with me?"

"And do what?" you huffed, even though the thought slightly lifted your spirits. "Be one of your...puck whatevers and follow you around like a puppy? I need a life of my own too."

You were being stubborn and argumentative and you both knew it. There was some relief in knowing Harry wanted you with him, but you also didn't want to just move because Harry was. You needed purpose, you needed to feel like your life had some sort of direction in it. But it was unfair to put all of that on Harry, and you didn't know how to express how you felt without sounding insane, so instead you said nothing, and that obviously went over brilliantly.

Harry chuckled. "See, because you just said how in love you are with me, I can tell that you're frosty attitude is just an act. Now turn over and look at me."

You reluctantly turned over, brow furrowed exaggeratedly because you couldn't cross your arms over your chest. It used to infuriate you how easily Harry could get under your skin because he knew you so well, that he knew just what to do or say to pull you out of a bad mood. In this moment, you were thankful. He could see past all the harsh words and see to the root of the problem. You'd said some things that were perhaps out of order, but Harry understood. Despite everything, he understood.

"You've worked just as hard as me, Y/n. I want to be there for you the way you've been for me. You can achieve your goals too."

"I just...I don't know if I want to achieve them anymore," you said quietly.

It was the first time you'd said it out loud. Since you'd learned to skate, there had only been one goal: the Olympics. Getting there wasn't just a matter of training, it was about devoting your life to your craft, it was barely having a life outside of training and competitions and giving all your time to winning. And after spending nearly your entire life doing it, you felt yourself slowly burning out. You'd go through your routines flawlessly, but your heart wasn't in it. All you could think about was the future—the next competition, the next training session, the next qualifier. It took seeing Harry so happy about being drafted to the minor leagues to realize the fire had gone out in you. Thinking of Olympic qualifiers and training and affording coaches and costumes and picking the right music only filled you with dread when you should've felt joy.

"Oh."

"But I don't know who I am if I don't have skating."

"You don't have to compete to skate, you know," Harry said. He rested his hand against your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your temple lightly. "You can c—"

"Oh God, don't say coach," you groaned. "It's perfect. You'll be a hockey superstar and I'll be the washed-up figure skater who couldn't handle the pressure of being an athlete and wound up coaching instead."

"I know you're being like this because you're scared, and that's okay," he said. "But I'll help you find a new dream, Y/n. I promise."

You had to blink away tears because your heart couldn't take how much he cared about you. "Even when I've been a complete bitch?"

"You haven't been. I'm sorry if you felt like I was leaving you behind. I guess in my mind we would always be together, no matter where we ended up."

"God I hate how much I love you sometimes," you grumbled while flinging yourself on top of Harry and holding him tight. "It's too much, you're too much, and I can't stand it—"

"There's a compliment in there somewhere, right?" Harry asked, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

Sitting up, you perched yourself on him, your legs straddling his waist. Dipping down, you made sure your noses were brushing, but you didn't close the distance. Not yet. Your heart was racing simply because Harry had been so kind to you, because he knew you so well and said exactly what you needed to hear. It felt ridiculous to know that there was a time when he pissed you off so much you saw red, that his teasing remarks and cocky grin grated on your nerves. Now you didn't want to imagine a life without him.

"I'm sorry for saying all of those things," you murmured. "I really am proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do."

Harry's hand reached up and threaded through your hair, his fingers gentle as they passed over your scalp. "I know you are. And I mean it, Y/n. I'll help you. I know you love to skate, we just have to find a way to channel that into something else. If not coaching, maybe performing?"

"What? Like Disney on Ice?" you asked skeptically, your nose wrinkling at the thought.

Harry shrugged as his hand dipped beneath your shirt to stroke your back. "You'd be a cute princess."

"With my luck, they'd make me a tree."

"Then you'd be the cutest tree there ever was."

Shaking your head, you nudged your nose against his again. "Can we hit pause on talking about the future? I just want to be with you here. Right now."

"Course," Harry said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a crooked grin. "And then maybe we can circle back to you being my puck whatever."

"Shut up."

"Make me!"

And that was something you knew how to do better than your skating routine.

[secretjeon]

Could you write something for SebastianxF!reader? Maybe later in their 7th year with Sebastian being jealous of all the boys interested in you. Him figuring out his feelings for you and maybe some kissing at the end 😳

ONLY YOU; SEBASTIAN SALLOW

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!reader

warnings: teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint, some arguing, jealousy, very quick slight suggestiveness, reader is seriously so desired by everyone its not even funny, fluff!!! not proofread!

word count: 1k+

a/n: first time writing for sebastian but it was so much fun im so excited!! for anyone who might want to request I write fluff, angst and smut so there's not really any limits. i don’t know how to write dialogue as a british person in the 1800s, so take it easy on me, but i hope u like it!! 🤍

comments/reblogs/likes are appreciateddd

He didn't know why he was so upset at the sight before him. You were currently sitting in your Defence Against the Dark Arts class, waiting for the professor to begin.

It wasn't just you at your table. There were also two boys, whose names you can't remember. They were both bragging about different things to you, one about Quidditch, the other about his amazing skills in Herbology.

It was a painful sight to watch, seeing as Sebastian was sat at the table just behind you. From where he was, he could very obviously tell they were trying to flirt with you. It bothered him deeply, why would these guys ever think they had a chance with you?

Smart, beautiful, perfect you. Things he all believed. Of course, he didn't think anything of it. Why wouldn't he acknowledge how beautiful you were? That was just simple human nature. But that didn't stop him from wondering why he was so bothered by the guys flirting with you.

He hated the thought of them doing anything with you. Talking with you, kissing you, touching you. The thought made his blood boil.

This wasn't the first time this had happened. Sebastian can recall the many times your chats were interrupted by another guy trying to take you on a date. Of course, you said no each time, but it wasn't any less annoying to him. He'd learned to refrain from rolling his eyes at this point, but still silently cursed the lads in his head.

"Alright, everyone! Take a seat." Professor Hecat spoke, allowing the two boys at your table to sit at their respective seats.

"Today, we are going to be doing something a little different. I want you to each partner up with someone, and then I will be explaining the rest." You immediately got up, about to go towards Sebastian when another boy got in your way, Liam, if you can remember correctly.

"Hey, Y/N, wanna partner up?" Sebastian couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes this time. You paused for a moment, trying to find a way to politely reject the boy.

"Erm, sorry... Liam, right? I'm afraid I've already partnered up with Sebastian." The brunette boy lit up at your words, suddenly feeling confident and looking at Liam with a smug face.

The other boy nodded with a tight lip smile, before leaving, defeated. You sat down next to Sebastian, who now had a bright smile on his face. "What are you all smiley about?" You teased.

"Nothing, let's listen for Professor Hecat's instructions, yeah?" Both you and him brushed it off, spending the rest of the class chatting up a storm and doing the assignment.

___

A few days have passed, and it just so happened to be Valentine's Day. You and Sebastian had gone to The Three Broomsticks to drink a butter beer together, as your own 'Galentine's Day', though you weren't sure if you could call it that because Sebastian wasn't a girl, but you were both single so the concept was the same.

You were sipping on your drink, enjoying each other's company when you see a guy who you recognize from your Charms class, someone whose tried to ask you out before, approach you.

"Y/N? It's Patrick, from Charms? I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna get a drink with me." This visibly angered Sebastian, his grip on his glass tightening, knuckles turning white. Before you could speak, Sebastian decided to tell Patrick a few words of his own.

"Don't you see that she's busy with me right now? And I don't know if it's clicked in that noggin of yours, but have you ever considered that maybe she's just not into you?" His voice was slightly raising at this point, but you couldn't help but find it attractive.

Patrick's eyes widened a little before backing up, muttering an apology and walking away. You turned to face Sebastian. "Why did you do that? You didn't even let me get a word in."

"Oh, please, Y/N, didn't you see how he was looking at you? It's like you were a chocolate frog and he was ready to eat you! Trust me, he's not the right guy for you." You quirked an eyebrow at his statement.

"Then who is?" You watched as he hesitated for a moment, before taking a sigh as if to prepare himself, and looked you in the eyes.

"I am," You stared at him in shock, not knowing what to say at the sudden confession.

"Y/N, I'm not sure why I didn't come to this realization sooner, but I've fallen for you. Deeply. I mean, we've gone through everything together, and you're just so perfect. You're truly one of the most amazing people I've ever known, and I've never felt this way about anyone be-"

You cut him off by leaning forward and capturing his lips with your own, catching him off guard. He's thrown off at first, but quickly matches your rhythm with his own, your lips fitting together like puzzle pieces, sparks flying everywhere in the room.

The kiss is everything and more. With his mouth still on yours, he grabs your chair, pulling you in closer, before moving his hands to you, one on your face, holding your cheek, the other holding your hand.

You both break apart, breathless with stupid smiles on your faces. "I've been waiting forever for you to say that." You grab his hand with both of yours.

If it was possible, his smile got even wider at your words. "You have?" You nodded, figuring it was time to confess.

"You've given me absolute butterflies since the moment I met you, Sebastian. I had all but hoped that you felt the same way. Why do you think I've always rejected the guys that flirted with me?

It's because it's you. It's only been you." You lean in for another kiss before Sebastian suggests a real date, perfectly fitting the day. The two of you leave The Three Broomsticks, feeling happier than ever before.

[myfictionaldreams]

I saw your post about poly marauders x reader inspo. What about angst and fluff where the reader is working really hard and doesn't take care of herself? She ends up fainting, hitting her head and having a seizure. (This is common for me.) The boys freak out and rush her to the infirmary. Maybe they take her back after she's given the all-clear and take care of her.

-🐍

Working Hard // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

A/N: hello, thank you so much for this request! I hope I've been able to write the information about seizures ok, I personally don't have them so was worried I'd get the information wrong but hopefully, this is alright!

Tags: angst, fluff, fainting, head injury, seizures, not looking after yourself, anxiety/crying, emotional hurt, protective marauders, cuddling/kissing etc.

Words: k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The library was fairly vacant of students as it approached the evening time, not that you’d noticed. At one swift glance, anyone could have seen the state of disarray that you were in. Ink stained your fingers and clothes, the whites of your eyes were bloodshot and dry from the lack of blinking, sweat on your brow and hair unkept from the number of times you’d brushed it out of your eyes.

Not to mention the disorganised surroundings you were sitting in with multiple stacks of books covering the desk space with different length parchment paper, ink pots and a single quill also messing up the area.

“How long has she been like this?”, Sirius asked Lily, concern etching deep into his face as he’d just arrived at the library following his day of lessons. Lily briefly looked up at Sirius with the same look of worry on her face from where she sat at a different desk, having been there most of the day just to keep an eye on you as she knew you were slowly spiralling into madness.

“She’s been like this since this morning. I’ve tried to convince her to have a break but she just wants to finish the work. I’m kind of getting worried about her, she hasn’t stopped in hours and keeps pushing my glasses of water away saying she’ll have it later but she’s yet to have any”, Lily explained to Sirius who was now clenching the strap of his school bag so tightly in his hands that his knuckles turned a ghastly shade of white.

“Thanks, Evans, I’ll stay with her don’t worry”, Sirius explained, patting his friend on the shoulder as she stood, having packed her bags ages ago but was reluctant to leave you on your own. “If you see Moony or Prongs, could you tell them where we are please?”

“No worries, I hope you can get through to her”.

Sirius sighed, shaking his head hard enough that his shoulder-length, silky hair flew in all directions as he walked over to your desk. You didn’t so much as flinch when the chair next to you scrapped along the stone floor as he dumped his bag onto the floor.

As he began to talk to you, he kept his voice calm, not wanting to frighten you out of the deep focus you were in. “Darling? Is everything alright?” When you again didn’t respond to having heard his arrival, he reached across and took the quill out of your fierce grip. This snapped you out of your trance as your head whipped in his direction, body jumping in a startle at finding one of your boyfriends casually sitting next to you. Your heart was already racing before the jump scare are you looked between Sirius and the quill you so desperately needed.

“What are you doing? I’m not finished my work yet Sirius and I am not in the mood to mess around, I just want to get it finished”, you demanded to him, reaching out with a trembling hand that had Sirius’ worries increasing.

“What was the last time that you even ate anything? Or had a drink of water?” Sirius asked whilst continuing to hold your quill out of your reach.

Shaking your head in annoyance, you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, a couple of hours ago maybe, I can remember. Now please, can I have my quill back!”

Sirius looked at the mess on the desk surrounding you, “Honey, this assignment isn’t even due for another week. You’ve got plenty of time to finish it another day but you need to look after yourself. Let’s have a little break, maybe go and get something to eat and drink and then depending on how you’re feeling, we could potentially finish this later”.

The marauder spoke calmly and slowly, taking in all the signs of your declining health. There were only a few occasions where you had been like this, neglecting to look after yourself and it usually ended with you crying from exhaustion or sleeping a whole day away feeling ill so he needed to be a good protector and make sure this didn’t get any worse but he feared that it was already at that stage anyway with how reluctant you were to listen to his advice.

“No, you aren’t listening to me! I don’t need any of that right now, I just need to finish this today because there’s still the potions assignment due in two days and I need to plot this week's stars for astronomy. There’s also the herbology that I haven’t even started yet so I don’t have time to go for your breaks! Just give it back to me Sirius!” As you were beginning to raise your voice, you caught the attention of the handful of other students who were studying. Sirius didn’t react to being shouted at, especially as it was never something you’d done before, he knew he was getting to the point of no return and was unsure just what it was that he was supposed to do. Let you carry on? Force feed you a snack and make you have a break but then would that anger you more?

Thankfully backup had arrived in the form of Remus and James. “What’s going on here?” the taller Marauder asked, his scarred face flicking back and forth between Sirius and where you were glaring at him.

“We were just about to have a little break”, Sirius began to explain with caution but you were quick to interrupt.

“No we aren’t Sirius! I’m fine, just let me continue other I’ll forget what I’m going to write!”. You were breathing heavily now, like you’d just run up a flight of stairs and Sirius couldn’t tell if it was because of your anger or just another symptom of how worn down you were getting.

It looked like you were close to a panic attack with the way you were reacting irrationally and the two Marauders that were standing took a protective step forward, placing their bags onto the floor.

“My Love”, James spoke carefully, “just take a deep breath for us, okay? We’ll just have a small break and then we’ll help you finish this assignment”.

Your hateful gaze turned to him, “I don’t need help James”.

The way you spoke didn’t falter him in any way as he continued, “Why don’t we just quickly get a drink of water and some fresh air and then we can come back-”

“Don’t talk to me like a child James, I know my limits. I’m just studying, I’m fine, I just need to finish this, but you’re all prolonging it!” You glared at all three of them, not thinking clearly at all and when Sirius once again held the quill away from you, you snapped. “You know what? Fine. Keep the quill. I’ve got plenty more in my dormitory which luckily doesn’t let guys in so I can continue this in some peace and quiet.”

You gathered as many books as possible into a messy pile, bundling them into your arms, along with your parchment paper.

“Wait, Sweetheart, just give us a moment-”. Sirius began reaching forward as you stood abruptly.

One minute you were taking a step forward and then next, it felt like the floor was moving, your eyes unfocused as the books dropped to the floor, swiftly followed by your body as you fainted, accidentally knocking your temple on the corner of your desk as you fell.

Remus, James and Sirius all lurched forward trying to soften your fall but to no avail, as they all watched you hit your head and collapse to the floor However the panic didn’t end there as your body began to convulse, eyes rolling back in your head as you didn’t respond to shouts.

“Shit! Go and get Madam Pomfrey!”, James demanded to Sirius who was out of his chair and sprinting within a second as a crowd began to form of scared students. This didn’t stop James though as he remained calm, kneeling next to your head but holding out a hand for Remus, “Hand me your jumper”. Remus pulled the clothing over his head and handed it to his boyfriend who balled it up and gently placed it under your head. “It’s ok baby, it’s going to be ok, it’ll be over soon, you’re safe, everything with be alright”.

With each word that he spoke, he remained calm, even managing to loosen your tie so that it didn’t restrict your breathing as you eventually calmed with your convulsions and remained unmoving on the floor, breathing heavily.

“Remus, help me roll her onto her side”, he asked the man who was also on his knees next to you, looking paler than usual. He followed James’ movements until you were lying in the recovery position, your hair carefully being moved out of your face so that they could assess your head injury as well. Thankfully there was no cut or blood but the area had already begun to swell into a small bump.

Remus shook his head, trying to process anything that had just happened as he then gazed towards James. “How…how did you know what to do?”

“My mum had seizures, usually she takes some potions to stop them from happening but on rare occasions they still do so she and Dad have taught me what to do if they were to happen, It’s not like I’ve done much anyway”. James looked you over, as Remus shook his head in disbelief, feeling guilty that he hadn’t come and found you at an earlier time but just assumed you were doing your usual revision in the library.

Sirius soon arrived with Madam Pomfrey who did her own assessment and praised James for the bits of care that he provided like putting you into the recovery position. You were then moved to the Hospital wing where you remained asleep for the next 12 hours which is what you needed, lots of rest and sleep.

When you did eventually awake, the sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains and you were disorientated and confused, being in an unknown area and alone, not remembering how or why you’d gotten there.

Thankfully the Matron was already working and hovering nearby so was able to come over and explain the events that had occurred whilst making sure you drank the numerous healing potions she’d decided you needed. With each glug of the horrible tasting, colourful concoctions, you could feel life beginning to pour back into your body, no longer feeling dehydrated or shaky, however, there was still some memory loss but she explained that was the side effect of the seizure. Your stomach twisted with guilt at not prioritising your health which was also the same sentiment expressed by Madam Pomfrey as she gave you a talking too as well about looking after yourself and making sure to take regular breaks, having food and drink nearby during long study sessions.

Finally, after she declared that you were safe to leave but only if you returned to the dormitory to rest for the next few days, she explained that James, Sirius and Remus had been by your side until late at night. Each of them outright refused to leave your side but as they all fell into their own emotional and physical exhaustion, Madam Pomfrey called for McGonagall who helped to send them to their beds.

The guilt now only increased tenfold at the thought of how worried they must have been. The Matron tried to encourage you to not worry about those emotions for now, but to go and rest and that you’d need to return every morning for additional potions and investigations for the seizure.

Every step towards the Gryffindor common room, nerves bubbled in your stomach, wondering if you should follow the woman's advice and just go to your own dormitory and sleep the day away or knock on the Marauders’ room and discuss what had happened.

Thankfully for your exhausted mind, you didn’t need to decide as soon as you entered the homely common room, the three of them were already rushing down the stairs, dressed in their casual clothes and looking like they were about to run somewhere. They were all startled to see you standing there, relief and worry expressed on each of their faces, along with dark circles under their eyes from the lack of sleep.

Hating the uncomfortable silence, you nervously twisted your fingers together, glancing at the floor, unable to hold their burning eye contact anymore. “Madam Pomfrey said I was okay to leave but said I needed to get some rest”.

Another wave of relief rushed through your boyfriends as they each visibly dropped the tension from their shoulders as they stepped forward. “How are you feeling?”, Remus asked carefully, not being able to watch your nervous twitches anymore as he grabbed your fingers and linked both of your hands with his.

“I feel fine”, you answered honestly, looking guilty up at them still through your lashes.

“What about your head?”, Sirius continued the question, standing to your left and stroking the strand of hair away from the area that he’d seen hit the corner of your desk.

“It doesn’t hurt at all but Pomfrey said those sorts of injuries are easy for her to fix anyway. I um, I don’t actually remember what happened, or even from the last few days but everything else is better, my head doesn’t hurt at all”.

James was the last to approach to your right and you were thankful to see a loving smile on his handsome face as he pushed the rim of his glasses up his nose whilst asking, “And what about the seizures?”

“She said they could happen again but it was mostly triggered because I hadn’t eaten, drank or slept properly and that I needed to be careful in the future. I think it’s something that I had dealt with in my childhood as I remember my mum saying that I used to have some sort of seizures but it’s been so long that I didn’t think it was an issue anymore. She also told me about what you did James and I just… I can’t thank you enough and I’m so so sorry for putting you all through this”. Your eyes were full of tears that quickly escaped and flowed down your cheeks.

James couldn’t watch you cry and rushed to wrap his arms around your body, cupping the back of your head to hold you against his warm, firm chest. Remus and Sirius also managed to join the cuddle. The three of them didn’t expect any sort of apology from you, the anger that had been there initially for you not looking after yourself had swiftly changed to worry and fear so just making sure you were okay was their only goal.

“Shh Sweetheart, please don’t cry. We’re just glad you’re safe. You scared us so much, all I could think about last night was having you in my arms again”, Remus calmed your cries down as he kissed your shoulder, trying not to unload too much of his worries onto you.

The three of them held you for long enough that other students began to wake and enter the common room, rushing past so as to not ruin the sentimental moment. As your sobs turned into hiccups and the tears stopped staining Sirius’ shirt, the long-haired Marauder pulled away to cup your cheeks. “Come on, it’ll do us all no good crying in the middle of the common room and you’re supposed to be resting and to be honest I think we could all do with a rest so let's go upstairs”.

Wiping your nose with your sleeve, you smiled and accepted his outstretched hand, his much larger palm engulfing yours as he gently tugged you along to the boys’ room. The sight of the magically enlarged bed only increased your exhaustion as your body seemed to slump with the need to crawl beneath the sheets.

Before you could do as you wished whilst still wearing your day clothes, James stepped behind, his arms around your waist and held you for a second, swaying slightly on the spot as he dipped to kiss your cheek. “Do you want my jumper? Might be more comfortable than what you’re wearing?” he asked with hope in his voice and you knew he always loved seeing you in his clothes.

Turning in his arms and stroking your fingers through his hair to brush it out of his face you nodded tiredly, “Yes please!”

James grinned, pecking your lips before swiftly pulling his jumper off and then helping you to underdress down to your underwear and helping you into his jumper. Remus and Sirius were already down to their boxers and in bed, Sirius in the centre with his arms open and you smiled in relief, crawling over his body and settling on top of his chest. Everything seemed to fall into place as James followed behind you and lay next to Sirius, all three of their arms wrapping around you like a weighted blanket and a breath later all four of you were asleep.

When you woke next, it was because something was tickling your nose. Squinting open your eyes, you were welcomed to the sight of Sirius’ silky hair completely covering your face and his warm breath only an inch away from yours. Laughing under your breath, being careful not to wake the Marauder, you brushed the strands out of yours and his face, tucking it behind his ear.

As your fingers settled back cuddled into your chest, Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed followed by him groaning and bringing your fingers back up to his hair. You giggled louder now as you began to play with his hair and scratch your nails against his scalp, loving the sweet smile on his pretty-boy face.

“You know Pads, asking her to pet you, isn’t what I’m sure Madam Pomfrey classed as resting”, James mused from across the room, no longer by your side. Peaking open your eyes once more, you lifted your head as Sirius flipped off James who was sitting across the room, playing with his gold snitch with a pile of food waiting beside him.

“Is that pancakes?” you asked hopefully, sitting up further by pushing off of Sirius’ chest. Remus who was also still resting on the bed perked up at his, opening one eye and rolling over, his hair sticking up in all directions nearly as dramatically as James’ as he looked for the food.

“It is indeed, and there’s also toast, sausages, eggs, bacon, fruit, anything you might need”.

The four of you repositioned on the bed, leaving space in the middle to carefully lay the trays of food that James had managed to steal from the kitchens and all ate until stomachs were full and happy.

“What time is it?”, Sirius asked, still trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

“Just after lunch, so we’ve only slept for a few hours but seeing as we missed breakfast I thought it might be a good idea to get some food into our systems”.

“Thanks, Prongs”, Remus said before taking another bite of his toast and looking in your direction. “How are you feeling after a bit more sleep?”

“Good, like nothing even happened, I feel like I’m back to normal”. Remus nodded at your words, giving you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, causing you to sigh and place your fork back onto your plate that was balanced on your nap. “I know we need to discuss what has happened and I’d rather do it now instead of waiting”.

The three Marauders looked at each other, unsure of how to approach the subject before James took one for the team and spoke first. “So you said you don’t remember anything, is that still the case?”

“The last thing I remember is going to Potions on Monday afternoon which was apparently a few days ago, I don't remember anything up until waking up in the hospital wing”.

“Do you understand what’s happened though? And how serious it was?”, James continued, his usual light and laughter not present in his eyes and you had to look at your fingers holding onto your plate as you felt the intensity of his emotions.

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey explained everything and why I had the seizure. I know I hadn’t looked after myself that day, but sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in my assignments for classes and if I don’t do them as soon as they are given to me, I’ll run out of time to complete them and then I’ll fail and then they’ll kick me out of the school and-”.

A scarred, rough hand pulled the plate from your grip so that he could gently hold both of your hands, tipping your chin back so that you were looking up at him as Remus came through with his words of wisdom. “You know that’s just your anxiety talking, there’s no way they would ever kick a talented witch like you from Hogwarts. You’re nearly top of all classes, always help others with their work and get good grades on your own. But you really need to look after yourself. To even get to the point of fainting is so dangerous Sweetheart, imagine if we weren’t there when this all happened?”

It was Sirius who began talking next, “We aren’t saying you need to completely change your ways but you fought us so hard in the library to even just have a little break. From now on, maybe we should put a bottle of water and some snacks in your bag and please, if you’re studying, just give yourself a rest every hour or so, even if it's to have a walk around the library to stretch your legs. Is that ok?”

The way he was speaking to you so softly and kindly had your heart melting and you hated how quickly tears were in your eyes again. You were so thankful for them, expecting them to be angry in some sort of way but once again proving how much you loved them and they loved you.

Unable to form any words, you nodded your response towards Sirius who smiled and opened his arms for you to crawl into again, his hands rubbing up and down your spine, soothing the emotions away.

James sighed away his own anxieties, moving over to kiss the back of your head before clearing away the food, waving his wand and everything disappearing back to the kitchens. “Right, a day of relaxation coming your way my love”, he began, trying to cheer the atmosphere and already causing you to laugh through the tears. “We will be having regular naps throughout the day, and plenty of food that will be ready whenever we are, All I need to do is summon one of the house elves. We have books, Sirius record player, we could even venture down to the common room if we’re feeling adventurous. Oh! I also caught Lily on my way back from the kitchens and she gave me some fruity bubble bath that her muggle parents have sent her that’s supposed to be nice so a nice candlelight bath will be ready whenever you are Love”.

You were beaming at all three of them, “Thank you! For this and everything else you’ve ever done, thank you”.

James shifted closer so that he could peck your lips, slowly and with love. The action was repeated by Remus and Sirius as you all naturally linked together in a cocoon of warmth and safety as you all hugged each other.

“I love you”, you whispered against whichever one of their shoulders you were nuzzling into. The three of them promised their love back to you before deciding on the first plan of the day.

[grandline-fics]

hi! i just read all of your oneshots and they’re perfect, i’m in love. hoping it is okay to request something with zoro having a soft spot towards reader? he doesn’t even realize it a first, but since reader is somehow quiet and gentle (not weak though!) he starts to take note of small things to do/don’t do or notice their actions (ex: taking care o the crew) a lot more than others. thank you. <3

DESCRIPTION: Who knew you were Zoro’s soft spot? Apparently both of you are the last to know 

WARNINGS: none, just pure fluff

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 856

A/N:  Thank you for your kind words and for this request! I hope it's to your liking. I've been feeling a little under the weather these past couple of days so some fluff was needed <3

MASTERLIST

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

It’s tiny things; little, practically meaningless things that are so easy to miss but they’re there. When you first joined the crew, your presence fell into the likes of his and Robin’s; strong but relatively quiet and easily looked passed if you wanted. You didn’t see the point in wasting energy needlessly and knew the value in waiting until letting yourself be known. Zoro unknowingly enjoyed that kind of calm you naturally brought and found himself gravitating towards it because it seemed even when he was in his own space you were still in his eye-line. In the beginning he found it a little strange that it kept happening, he knew you weren’t following him. Hell most of the times you were on the other side of the ship or talking with someone else so he cleared it as coincidence and thought nothing of it. As time went on, there was a lot he was putting down to mere coincidence. 

When you were all exploring new islands it was purely happenstance that you two walked side by side. Neither of you were the type to bound about and race ahead without a cause for urgency. He found he didn’t get lost as easily when you were close. You always seemed to know the way to go. On one trip Brook had commented to Zoro how lucky he had been that you were there to talk to him at the right moment otherwise he would have kept walking towards a path that would have taken him towards a ravine. Because of your voice suddenly pulling him into conversation he’d kept the right track and avoided possibly injuring himself and getting a lecture from the others. Lucky right?

It was also luck of the draw that when eating or drinking off the ship, Zoro was sat at the table in such a way that his back blocked you mostly from view from any unwanted stares. It was never in a subconscious way to keep you from interacting with others but it was like another sense he had that he was able to tell when you just wanted to sit with the crew and enjoy your meal. It seemed to go both ways too in that regard. If women tried to approach and flirt with him you effortlessly had a way of making a joke to dissuade them and steer them in Sanji’s direction. Was any of it done out of jealousy, possessiveness of the other’s attention, or an overwhelming need to protect? Not in the least, it was just doing what needed to be done to help out a friend and fellow crew-mate.

On the Sunny it’s no different. It’s not even a second thought, his body just reacts without thinking. In the early, barely waking hours when he’s finished his night watch and is about to grab a quick snack before training he always pulls out a specific mug from the cabinet and sets it on the counter. It’s never for him and like clockwork you appear just as he’s finished drinking a glass of water. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and stifling a small yawn you always offer him a small smile and greeting that is returned. You both pass each other, your only motivation is caffeine to see you through the last of the watch before everyone else is awake while he goes to the crow’s nest to train. 

After all this time it’s never occurred to you to question why your mug is waiting for you when you rise. You don’t know why but it’s something that immediately makes your morning a little bit brighter. It’s also routine now that an hour or so after breakfast, you and Zoro both nap; him to rest between his training sessions and you to grab another couple hours after your night watch. Nami occasionally glances up from her charts to shake her head at your sleeping forms. Robin finds it adorable while Brook chuckles, nostalgic over youth and love’s first stages. 

“Jeez they’re both so clueless.” Sanji grumbles, he’s accepted long ago that he doesn’t have a chance with you but is so infuriated that nothing has actually happened. He lost you to the swordsman who hasn’t even thought to make a move. Usopp grins and watches as you stir slightly in your sleep which in turn makes Zoro react before his body relaxes again. Currently he’s lying on his back with one hand tucked behind his head. While the other that’s draped over his chest, his fingers almost touching yours that are curled by your head as you sleep on your side. 

From his spot on Sunny’s head, Luffy grins. “I don’t know. I think they do know, in their own way.” It’s the little, insignificant things that you both do for each other that are easy to miss and while a lot of little things add up into something bigger, none of it compares to the way that you and Zoro unknowingly look at each other at any given chance. Because that is something so big that no one else can ignore. 

[morallygreyyn]

Can i pls get some clingy ass illumi x reader who hasn’t seen them in days because of his missions?

Have a nice day!! Make sure to drink water💓

miss me? (illumi zoldyck x reader)

description: illumi has been gone for a week and when he returns, he seems slightly off. it didn't take you long to realise that he wanted attention, namely yours...

authors note: another super old ask but i love this one with all my heart and soul. illumi? stunning. clingy illumi? immaculate. seriously there is nothing i love more than illumi so this is how i think he would be when he's clingy and wants attention! have a lovely day anon and i really hope you drink lots of water! (seriously i've just found out how important this is so pls everyone drink lots of water to flush out that bacteria) 💗

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

requests are open! please read my rules!

You hadn’t seen Illumi Zoldyck for the better part of a week. While you were used to the assassin leaving often for work, usually you were in a position to follow him. This time, however, was one of the rare occasions where you had to stay home at your apartment, all for that blasted electrician who kept cancelling on you. If he called you one more time to cancel, while you stayed home when you could have followed your boyfriend to a sunny location that you would have treated like a holiday, you swore you would hire the Zoldyck yourself to track him down. 

As though he had heard your silent threat, the electrician came and went, and your kitchen appliances were once again fully operational. Happy that you could finally restock the fridge, you left to get groceries. You couldn’t admit this out loud, but your apartment often felt too empty without the assassin occupying it too. While he didn’t own the space where you lived, he stayed there often enough that he may as well share it with you. 

It had surprised you when you brought up the offer of living together and he didn’t reject the idea immediately. Illumi actually seemed contemplative, as though it was almost a pleasant thought. That was what you assumed anyway, you could never truly tell what he was thinking most of the time. 

By the time you returned home, you knew something was different immediately. For one, you were certain that you had locked the door. Cautiously stepping into the apartment, you coiled and prepared to strike whatever or whoever was lurking. Despite not being an assassin, you were still a qualified Hunter, and those licences did not come easy.

It turns out that you needn't have bothered as, when you approached the living area, Illumi was sitting calmly at your kitchen island watching you. 

“Oh, Illumi!” Setting down your bags, you ran to him, throwing your arms around your boyfriend as you held him tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

“No signal.” He said simply as he let you hug him, hands gingerly settling around you. You had to fight tooth and nail for him to learn how to hug properly, and even now he still hadn’t quite managed to perfect the act. Despite this, he still tried, and that was good enough for you. 

Pulling away, you looked at him with a smile. “How was it?”

He shrugged, a clear sign he was disinterested in the topic. “Simple.”

Nodding, you stepped back to put the groceries away, not wanting them to rot on the floor. Illumi sat back down, fathomless eyes locked on you while you completed the task you had set for yourself. You liked to think that you knew the Zoldyck rather well, and that included when something was bothering him.

Turning around, you raised an eyebrow as you met his gaze. “What?”

“What?”

“You’re staring at me.”

“Why are you pointing that out?”

“Because I’m wondering why.”

“I stare at you a lot.” He stated, tone very matter of factly.

“I know, but now it seems different.”

“It isn’t.”

“If you say so, darling.” You rolled your eyes and finished putting the food away. Once you had, you turned to face your boyfriend once more, looking for an explanation.

“You forgot something.” Illumi said, and while his voice was the usual light and expressionless one, his eyes still bore into yours.

Looking around, you couldn’t see anything out of place, and you had certainly left nothing on the counters. “What did I forget?”

Illumi didn’t answer, only continued to look at you expectedly. Now you were really confused, and slightly unnerved by his odd behaviour. Illumi rarely acted like this.

With no answer to give you clarity, you grinned in feigned annoyance, kissed his cheek and whispered you were happy to have him back before you left to head into the room you used as an at home office. 

Sitting down at your desk and opening your files, you stared blankly at the screen while you mentally observed Illumi’s behaviour. There was something amiss, and you couldn’t put your finger on what. He wasn’t usually the expressive one; well, he was never the expressive one. All physical, verbal, and emotional affection fell on your shoulders to deliver. While this may seem one sided to most, you didn’t mind as you knew Illumi was not able to express much by way of love. Despite this, you knew he loved you, in his own way. He had threatened to kill the electrician for you when you complained about the situation to him, and that spoke millions. Not only that, but he also allowed you to be as affectionate as you are with him, and he accepted it whereas anyone else wouldn’t have a chance in hell of even approaching him, let alone the things you did together.

What was bothering him?

Just then, you saw a shadow move in your peripheral vision, and your heart dropped to your ass. “Fucking hell, Illumi! At least knock!”

He ignored your outburst. “What are you doing?”

“Working.” You said as you willed your heart to calm down.

“Oh.” Illumi stayed standing behind you, hovering ominously. 

Then it clicked, Illumi was being clingy. This was how he acted when he wanted attention. Unable to control yourself, you laughed loudly at the realisation.

“What?” He asked, watching you stand from your seat to face him.

Your smile was incredibly smug as you approached, wrapping your hands around his waist. “Did somebody miss me?”

Naturally, he didn’t respond and it might’ve been your imagination, but he seemed to relax under your touch. 

“I think I know what I’ve forgotten.” You captured your lips with his own, smiling as you did so. It was moments like this that made you realise that Illumi did in fact love you, and that he was quite attached to you. Even if he didn’t show it much, his hands resting on you, the slide of his lips against your own, the way he seemed unwilling to let you go spoke for him.You pulled away for a moment, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. You had the Illumi Zoldyck as your lover, and no matter what anyone said, he loved you. “Miss me?”

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 7.

Summary: A chance to look through Oliver Quick's eyes as he watches through windows, decides he wants to be loved, and finally takes a chance with the reader. Until it comes crashing down because Michael Gavey called Felix a slag, and it's made Oliver's problem.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT (we see reader topping felix from last chapter but through oliver's perspective, cockwarming, vague somnophilia because of that i guess??, reader getting head and reader giving head but reader's AGAB is not specified), also some vaguely unsettling imagery i guess, and the scene in felix's room with the cleaning is made even more tense and uncomfortable

A/N: 7084 words. POV shift to Oliver! Also this chapter is FUCKING HUGE, i tried to find a good place to maybe split it, but couldn't find one. so you're stuck with 7k, eat up friends! also i would really appreciate if anyone has any thoughts about how i've written oliver, id love to hear them, i don't want him to 100% like the reader, and i think ive managed to have him come across more uh, cerebral i guess im going with? yeah thoughts good, would love some. holy shit this chapter goes so many places.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Y/N's been rambling on about reading Anna Karenina for one of their classes ever since they'd met Oliver after his final class for the day, but he's barely able to focus on their words. Usually he likes to look like he's paying attention to their words, he knows it makes him seem attentive, and everybody loves to feel heard, but Oliver's mind is elsewhere. It's in the garden outside of Y/N's window. It's outside their door where he'd sat patiently, giving blithe smiles to your dormmates and telling them he was simply waiting for you to get dressed. The doors of the Oxford dormitories were thick, but not thick enough to hide sound on the other side from an ear pressed up against them when the hallway was empty.

It's not even close to the first time he'd seen you in these moments together; how no-one else in your group of friends, apart from Farleigh he suspected, believed you two were sleeping together was baffling. Wilful ignorance is a hell of a drug. He hopes the two of you never learn how to close your blinds.

But there was something different about yesterday.

"Any of youse seen Felix? Or Y/N?" He'd approached the group on the grass with the same kind of hesitancy he'd always put on for them, never wanting to seem too arrogant, to comfortable in their presence. He knew they didn't like him, but people like this liked feeling powerful over the 'lesser folk'. Anyways, it's not like he was particularly keen on befriending any of them, it was okay to hold them at arm's length.

Farleigh, beautiful, condescending Farleigh, looked up at him through his lashes; there was no sun in his eyes, the squint was more likely to be him half-pulling a face of contempt with plausible deniability.

"Maybe." Unhelpful.

"Y/N came through here like a fucking hurricane," Annabel told him; Oliver could only think of the irritating nasal in her voice as she'd listed off all the things she hadn't liked about him to Felix when they hadn't known he was around. Oliver fought not to make a face of his own.

"Took Felix and headed that way," a blonde boy -Rex? Reg? Oliver hadn't even bothered to retain his name - nods in the direction of the dorms.

"They're so co-dependent sometimes," India shakes her head, strange little expression on her face. Perhaps she did know and was trying to convince herself otherwise.

"Yeah," laughed Annabel, "they could have at least tried meditating or something."

"I don't know," Farleigh shook his head, clicking his tongue, "I don't think they have any other coping mechanisms apart from their co-dependant shit."

"They've always been like this?" India actually sounds a little fond.

"It actually used to be worse," Farleigh snorted, and Annabel pitched herself back in the grass, claiming that it couldn't be true.

"I mean, with that kind of money I think Felix is allowed to be weirdly close to his cousin," India says with a shrug. What? Why was the group laughing like it was an in-joke.

"They're cousins?" Oliver asks; Farleigh he knew about, but no-one had ever really talked about how Felix and Y/N had gotten so close. Considering all he'd seen them do together -

"Kissing, codependent cousins," Annabel sighs, sitting up.

"Hot, kissing, codependent cousins," India wraps an arm around her in solidarity, and the girls share an exasperated chuckle, though from looking around it seemed that a lot of the group shared that sentiment.

"You're hot too, Farleigh -"

"Thanks, but I'll stick with just that for now, I'm happy being the non-kissing, non-codependent cousin," he chuckled, before turning his attention back to Oliver, still awkwardly by the edge of the group as everyone else continued to gossip. However, catching Farleigh's eye, for the barest moment, his wolfish grin, Oliver had total and complete confirmation that Felix and Y/N were in no way actually related.

Which, if he were to guess, meant that Farleigh definitely knew the two of you were sleeping together.

And judging from all the times Oliver had spoken to you both, neither of you were aware of this well established gossip in the group, Farleigh was never ever going to correct anyone, considering how damn funny he clearly thought the entire bit was. It at least explained how the rest of the group was so unphased by the closeness you and Felix shared, while still apparently - kind of - dating other people.

Eventually, tired of putting up his awkward façade, though he was grateful for the slim amount of information he'd learned, he clears his throat.

"So -"

"That way," Farleigh doesn't look at him this time, voice flat, thumb jerking towards Y/N's dorm.

Its the afternoon, grey, most people are at classes, so the courtyard outside of your dorm room is empty of any other living souls. Whenever he stops in, or even walks past, he checks in your window out of habit to see if you're in; you don't close your blinds often so it's an easy way to tell. Anyone passing by wouldn't be able to see anything, not unless they stopped and made an effort, but Oliver wasn't most people, and knew the layout of your room and how to search it when granted even a sliver to look through like today.

And today, not only are you in your dorm with Felix, as predicted, but the sight of you both makes his mouth go dry.

Felix Catton on his back, arching, perfect mouth open in some kind of wanton, whorish noise undoubtedly as you masterfully worked his cock with your hand. Fuck, Oliver knows he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be watching this.

He steps forward into the bushes. They rustle, his heart jumps, but neither of you seem to notice.

He can't see your face with your back to him like this, but you must be saying something, because Felix's lips are moving and his chest is heaving as he's gasping out words. Oliver knows he's embarrassing flush, embarrassingly hard in these fucking slacks, but the courtyard is still empty, and he knows all too well how little the outside world matters to you and Felix in these moments.

He can feel his heart beating in his throat, in his ears, painfully against his ribs as you slide one leg so smoothly over Felix's hips, hand between your own thighs as you hover yourself above him. You're toying with Felix, taking your time, taking full and total control in a way Oliver's never seen you do. He didn't know anyone could make Felix act like this, look like this; he never thought Felix would let anyone. But he shouldn't be surprised that it's you of all people.

When you lean down over Felix, your chest against his, like a proud lion over its prey, Oliver feels sick with himself, with how he wants to burn this fucking image into his brain, with how fucking perfectly he can watch from here as you take the entire length of Felix's cock. Its impressive, both his length, and how fucking easy you make it look. You're kissing him. You're fucking him. You're riding this Adonis in a way that makes him pliant and desperate beneath you.

Oliver steps back from the window, finally glancing around to double check his surroundings. No-one peeking out of windows, no-one around. He heads inside. He knows he shouldn't but he does, pulls out the sweater he'd loaned from Felix and folds it in his lap when he sits with his back against your door, both as an excuse should anyone walk past, and to hide the visible hardness in his pants.

Sometimes you're too quiet to hear, but the way the bed creaks and the two of you moan, it's some kind of debauched symphony. Oliver swears he's not a masochist, but it almost hurts to hear you both like this, like something out of a dream or a fantasy, and to remain stone-faced at your bedroom door -

"I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."

Oliver can't even begin to imagine the things this means, the things you want to do to Felix, but then he hears -

"Yes, fuck, yes- my Y/N, anything you want - please." Felix gasping, begging like Oliver's never heard before. Sounds he knows only you could have elicited from the man who makes people around him fall in love with him by accident.

Oliver Quick is never going to get these moments out of his head; he's never been so desperate to be wanted by anyone in his life, let alone two people. There is a shameless, lascivious kind of love between you both that he vows to get the chance to drink from the source.

It's again changed his perception of you, perhaps made him a little bolder once more. So the day after, walking to the pub after class, barely listening to you talk about your book, he's trying to see if anything's changed. As far as he was aware, your encounter with Felix the day before was unusual for you. Perhaps something's changed, and perhaps he's not subtle about looking.

It's something unspoken between you, it ebbs and flows depending on Oliver's mood, how bold he's feeling. A quiet, voyeuristic exchange you share, the pleasure of being watched, and the pleasure of watching. The roles reverse and your eyes are on him in the way eyes rarely are.

More the observant than the observed, he'd told you, yet he took pleasure in feeling your gaze upon him, taking the time that he knows is so precious to you to watch him. You are familiar to him in a way that is so foreign; you are watching and adapting and anticipating the desires around you. Not action, but reaction; a people-pleaser down to your bones, wrapped up Felix's brand of hedonism. You get off making people feel loved, but Oliver can't help but wonder about the desire you keep to yourself, just below the surface.

Neither of you have spoken about the night at the club; Oliver's desperate to see how long it will take you before you act, rather than get pushed into reacting. He doesn't know how long he can last.

Felix shows up to the pub with Annabel and a strained smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Which is better than Annabel's outright scowl. They sit in chairs across from the rounded bench that always took up half the table your group liked to tension filling the ample space between them. As the last to arrive, everyone else's attention was drawn to them, going quiet as everyone picked up the couple's sour mood.

There's a moment where Oliver catches the way Felix looks at you across the table. No-one else picks up on it, since in the next moment Felix raises his hands to cover a cough, and what Oliver suspects is a grin, but you've turned your head sharply, sniffing loudly and almost managing to press your face into Oliver's shoulder. After a beat you fake a sneeze, and apologise. Oliver brushes it off, and fights off a smile of his own. He doesn't have all the details, but clearly you made good on your promise to make Felix's other future fucks jealous.

"You know what? I'm desperate for a pint, anybody else -" Felix goes to stand, attempting to break the tension, but immediately Annabel scoffs.

"Desperate sounds about right." And she's not quiet with her scorn.

"Can you not do this now? We've been here two minutes, you want a drink?" He hissed, trying to keep up a positive façade despite the faint anger and embarrassment in his eyes. It doesn't last, of course, not with all eyes on the pair of them. It's Farleigh who speaks up first, not even bothering to hide his smug smile.

"You okay there, Felix?" He wears a grin that's all teeth.

"What?" Felix frowns, but Oliver can see exactly what Farleigh's talking about. When he brings it up, however, he does his best to sound genuinely innocent, concerned even.

"Have you got yourself hurt, Felix?" And when Felix meets his gaze he knows it's come across as intended, the conflict and frustration still somehow looking beautiful in his brown eyes.

"No, I'm fine," he tugs at the collar of his shirt, hoping it sits a little higher, hides the hickey that's clearly there.

"Burn yourself on a curling iron, Felix?" India teases, matching Farleigh's earlier energy, and while it did nothing to help Annabel's mood, at least Felix no longer seemed conflicted.

"Had a run in with a particularly aggressive vacuum cleaner?" You piped up from beside Oliver, and the minute Felix sees your own triumphant grin he starts to go pink around the ears and has to duck his head.

"Try several vacuum cleaners," Annabel snapped to the table, "or one whorish townie girl!" For just a moment, the group is quiet, contemplating what she'd said, the upset in her voice, but it's short-lived.

"How many vacuum cleaners?" Farleigh leans forward, elbows on the table and chin on his hands with a grin like the Cheshire cat. Felix tells him to fuck off, but his blush is still distinct.

"They're all over him," Annabel sticks her nose in the air, arms crossed and looking especially petulant. The lads at the table did actually cheer at that, much to her continued frustration.

"You spend entire nights hitting on other guys in front of me! You made eye contact while one latched himself onto your neck as I was trying to dance!" Felix argued back, and the jury of their peers began to shake their heads at this new information. Annabel pouted for a moment.

"That's different -"

"It kinda isn't," India tried to shoot for sympathetic, wincing as she said it, which was enough for Annabel to sigh dramatically, standing from the table.

"Fine, I do want a drink," and she immediately made a furious beeline for the bar. Felix, however, hesitated for a moment, watching her leave before he turned back to the group with a cocky smile, yanking down the collar of his shirt to show off several more bright, scandalous hickeys.

"Best vacuum cleaner I've ever had," he tells them all smugly, before standing up straight and righting his shirt, "okay, this round's on me." A cheer rises from the group, but as Felix walks off, Oliver catches the way he winks at Y/N. You snort a quiet laugh, but Oliver's pretty sure he's the only one who heard it.

Christ, you two weren't even trying to be subtle half the time.

Still, for all her apparent frustration at Felix's mystery partner, it seemed to only make Annabel cling to him further. No more flirting with strangers, no more sitting apart. She reeks of insecurity, but Oliver just watches you watching her. There's something in your eyes in these moments, like a lion too sated to be bothered with the hunt, but the instinct to pounce could resurface at any moment.

But Oliver's obsession with the intricacies of your lives still lead him outside of Felix's window after one of countless parties. Still watching with animal curiosity and a cigarette in hand, as Annabel works hard to stake her claim on a man she desperately wants to own.

Annabel is an unenthralling understudy, Oliver thinks.

Throwing the butt of his cigarette into the bushes, he can't bring himself to stay. He knows where he needs to go, knows what he needs to do; in his mind Annabel is a lithe and graceful performance of extasy, and Felix is all quiet focus and hard, gorgeous muscles shining with sweat from the exertion of it all. But there's no love. It's all performance, a pleasurable performance for them, he's sure, but it's just two beautiful people smashing their bodies together in sloppy ecstasy.

Fuck.

No only is a creep, and a pervert, but now he's a picky, creepy pervert.

But his thoughts stop in the courtyard outside of your dorm. You light is on. Your window is open all the way, and there you are, looking like a dream in your pyjamas, sitting on the windowsill and having a smoke.

"Ollie!" He'll never get sick of how you say his name, how you smile when you see his face. There's a split second where he has to make a decision, has to figure out how to approach you in this moment. At the club you'd all but folded on the spot at his bold approach, he knows he could have had you practically there and then if he'd been inclined, but part of him can't stop thinking about how you'd had Felix on his back, practically begging.

Oliver feels like every time he thinks he's close to figuring you out, he learns something knew about you that makes him rethink it all. He wants to know all of you, your hopes and dreams and the grotesque desires you will never tell the world, desperate to keep testing you and your reactions, and perhaps even your limits if it ever came to that, to figure out how to get underneath your beautiful skin the way Felix had. Part of him feels like you're never going to stop surprising him, one way or the other. You are intrigue and unexpected and he wants to carve a home for himself in your bones.

"Thought you'd still be out," you tell him, back flush with the frame of your window, one leg up on the ledge while the other dangled over the gardens he'd watched you from more times than he'd like to admit.

"'s not the same without you," he admits after a moment, hands in his pockets. Your endeared, bashful smile is predictable, but no less heart-warming to see. He loves the way you react to him.

"Is that why you're here," it sounds teasing, but he can hear a hint of something that almost sounds hopeful. When you look back at him again, there's that same look you've been giving him since he'd held you, kissed you, ghosted you at the club.

"I don't know," he lies softly, "I just started walking."

"Come on then," you grin, stubbing out your cigarette on the windowsill, "you came all this way, why not have a sleepover," and you swing your legs inside, hopping off the ledge. He moves automatically towards the window, but when you hear him moving, you frown over your shoulder, "door, Ollie."

He's never been inside your room at night.

It glows with the same gold light that all these old building with their old lamps glowed, casting all your knickknacks in shadow and sharp relief. Only your bed lamp was on, book open on your bed. Jane Austin's Emma.

"Sorry, I don't mean to impose," Oliver's voice matches the rest of how he wants to appear; small. Sitting on your soft, patterned duvet, he looks not at you, but around at the room you call home, cataloguing everything in this new light, trying not to think about Felix and Annabel fucking, Felix and Annabel laughing, Felix and Annabel joking about how -

He's a scholarship boy who buys his clothes from Oxfam; no-one wants to sit next to fucking Oliver.

"I love you Ollie," you tell him blithely, easily, truthfully, "you never impose."

Annabel grates on his ears and his nerves and his fucking memories. Your smile is like a balm for that the burn that snobby bitch leaves in the back of his mind when he thinks too hard about her.

You move with such ease around the space, not that he should be at all surprised at that. Perhaps it's more that he still feels like a stranger in his own room at times. Planting yourself against your headboard legs crossed and looking so at ease in your summer pyjamas, you ask, tone light, "you don't mind if I read for a bit, I'm not going to be up much longer, but like I said, you're always welcome to stay."

"What are you reading?" Oliver lets himself relax in your presence, lays himself back on the bed, looking up at the sculpted ceiling of the old building. He knows what you're reading, he just likes hearing your voice.

"Emma," he can hear the rustle of the pages, had seen the worn spine and yellowing paper, wonders if it's vintage, wonders how you got it if it is, "Jane Austen for my lit class."

"Finished Anna Karenina?" You make a quiet hum of acknowledgement. More silence and the warmth of company and lamp light, "it's been a while since I've read any Austen."

"Do you want me to read some to you?" Of course there's humour in your tone, but Oliver can hear it for the genuine offer that it is. When he looks at you, he can't help but smile. There's such fond affection in your eyes as you look at him over the top of the book.

"Please," he says it so softly, so sweetly, and it's enough to see you smile before you disappear behind the book again.

"I'm near the end, you won't get the context -"

"Doesn't matter," he sits back up, pulls off his jacket, kicks off his shoes, and settles back beside you.

"Settled?" Your voice is a murmur, barely a whisper, and when he laughs quietly, he knows you can feel the way it rumbles within him.

When you start, your voice is soothing, halfway through a chapter, through a conversation between characters he has no clue about. He's never read Austen but he'd devour her books if you were the one reading them. It feels like an almost perfect moment.

"- Seldom, very seldom," his head is on your shoulder, eyes scanning the page, the words as you read them, "does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken, but-”

"I did come here for you," something about the line makes the hairs prick on the back of his neck, he can't keep quiet; there is want still simmering beneath his skin, and each time his mind drifts to Felix and Annabel, something furious and desperate coils in his gut. You fall silent, book still open and aloft, cheek still resting against his head where he's kept it on your shoulder. When you take a deep breath, he feels it, both of you move in sync, "of course I came here for you."

This time, he doesn't reach out, doesn't touch you more than he is. Every time he's reached out, he's gone against the pattern you've observed of him, he's always made a connection with you where you know he holds back from others. This time, he waits with bated breath.

"If there's nothing more you want from me than moments like this, I'll never say another word about it," he assures, as if trying not to spook or pressure you. But still he waits.

"What do you want, Ollie?" To pick you apart like a vulture, to see the desires you keep so close they're written on your bones.

"You," he says instead, all gentle words and just as gentle breathing, "if you'll have me." Tell me what it is you want. Tell me you can want. Tell me you know you can want things for yourself, want things beyond a reaction to the wants and needs of everyone around you -

Carefully, you reach over to your bedside table, trying not to jostle either of you too much, and keep your place with a bookmark before you put the book down.

But you do make the first move. You take his face in your hands, holding him like he's fragile and perfect and porcelain, shuffling to face him properly. This kiss tastes almost like home, like finally from you both, until his tongue runs along your lips and you part willingly for him, the kiss turning quickly more passionate. Oliver's not even sure how he came to be straddling your lap, nor how he didn't notice you undoing half of his shirt buttons already, but when the kiss breaks he takes your hands in his.

"Of course I want you," tumbles from your lips, sounding heady, needy, and for just a moment, Oliver breath stutters in his chest. But he slows things down again, leans in to kiss you sweetly once more, before he's pulling off your pyjama shirt.

"I want to know what you want," he murmurs against your lips, kissing his way down your jaw slowly as he speaks, "wanna know how to make you feel good."

"Anything you do -" you try, but he looks up after pressing a kiss to your sternum.

"You need to be needed," he says softly, punctuating each statement with a kiss, refusing to break eye contact with you, "and you want to be wanted," his warm lips on your belly, he sees the conflict in your eyes, the desire and embarrassment all at once, "and you're very good at those things, one of the best, I'm sure." Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, he pauses, "is this okay?" You nod quickly, enthusiastically, and he gives a warm smile.

"You're like me, sweetheart," he says softly, resting his cheek on your inner thigh for a moment, watching you still. Reaching out, you card your fingers through his hair, fingers trailing down his jaw, and he turns his face to kiss your palm, "I know that if I gave you half a chance, you'll figure out how to be all I could ever want, but tonight I want everyone to hear how you sound when someone's making you feel good-" he doesn't realise he's quoting something he should not have heard from Felix until it's too late, but you cut him off. You didn't even seem to realise.

Then your other hand is in his hair, a new look in your eyes, a newfound determination, a nervous excitement. You grip on his hair tightens.

"Yes?" He gives a cheeky grin, and you finally smile like you mean it.

"I get it," you roll your eyes, but there's nothing malicious about it, especially since the gesture has Oliver pressing his own chuckle against your thigh, "now you have one guess as to how I'd like you to shut up." There's that confidence he'd heard the other day, the confidence that was burned into the back of his mind, the confidence that had been part of the reason he'd spent a good hour in the shower after hearing it.

"Only if you turn out your lamp," he smirks, though inside all he can think about is how bright the whole room is through the gap in the curtains. It doesn't seem to bother you, it never has, and though he was grateful for it when he was on the outside looking in, there's something about being the one potentially being watched that causes him a faint sense of unease.

You call the moonlight more romantic anyways, and Oliver doesn't need to be told twice to go down on you.

When Oliver wakes the next morning, still in your bed, still in you, he almost wants to pinch himself. It's a childish sentiment, but you're in his arms, wrapped up in him and this early morning light through your curtains. Though he tries not to jostle you too much, the arm beneath his head is asleep and getting more uncomfortable by the second. Except the movement just makes you mumble around a breathy moan, hips moving against his.

"Fucking hell," he groans into your ear, and he gets a sleepy, contented chuckle in return, turning your face a little more towards him to give an affectionate bump against his forehead.

"Ollie~"

For just a second, Oliver thinks about living in this moment for the rest of his life.

"You okay?" He murmurs, watching your smile grow. Everything about you looks so pleased, so content, so satisfied.

"Never done that before," you admit, wiggling your hips a little. Oliver swears under his breath again, but judging by the mischievous smile you wear and the twinkle in your eyes, you knew exactly what you were doing. Then, with all the casualness of any other conversation, you manage to catch him off guard again; "anyone who thinks you don't fit in has clearly never fucked you; you fit perfectly -" his teeth sink into your shoulder before he can even properly figure out how he should have reacted.

But instead of finding it strange or off-putting, you let out a breathy laugh, tension easing in your shoulders. Your hips begin to roll against his, consistent, deliberate. He wonders how many people you've let fuck you like this, like they love you, like they care about you. Oh he knows you fuck your friends with love on your tongue, treat them like they're your last meal, like they mean something, but Oliver gets the feeling you don't expect them to return the favour. He's seen the kind of company you keep, he's pretty sure they never do.

How many of them have seen you grateful the way you look now, bathed in the morning light of Summer, laughing and unable to stop talking with such casual fondness in your eyes and on your lips.

When you go down on him in the shower, Oliver thinks he sees hearts in your eyes.

There might just be something very fucking wrong with you, and he's grateful for it every day.

But it doesn't last.

It's on a Summer day that's too hot, less than a week since he'd spent the night with you. Summer days around here seem to always be too hot, but this might be the worst. Felix still doesn't close his blinds, sun painting him golden where he lay on the floor of his room with a cigarette. Oliver had perched himself on the windowsill as you'd taken up residence on Felix's bed, sitting with your back to his headboard, engrossed in what appeared to be notes, or some kind of file.

Oliver has no idea if you've told Felix, or what you would have told him. The dynamic between the three of you appears to have remained otherwise unchanged. Sometimes, however, Oliver catches Felix looking at him out of the corner of his eyes, head tipped, curious like he was about Oliver's past; his expression is always unreadable, but it's started pitting in Oliver's stomach whenever he catches it. Felix always looks away. Felix has been looking at him less lately, that too causes some kind of anxious feeling Oliver would rather not dwell on.

"I don't like Michael Gavey," you announced from your relatively dark corner of Felix's bed. How did you even know Michael Gavey?

"Who?" Felix makes a face in the sunlight, whole expression wrinkling up, as if trying to wrack his brains. But you're looking at Oliver. There's no affection in your eyes, manila folder in your hands.

"He's-" Oliver feels like he's on the back foot again. All the comfort and good will he'd built up around the two of you feels suddenly so far away, "he's in my year." There's no precedent, no road map in his mind for where this could be going.

"He likes you," it's accusatory coming from you. Oliver looks to Felix for a moment, if only to avoid the intensity of your gaze, but he's closed his eyes, staying out of it.

Oliver considers bailing out of the window, but thinks better of it.

"He, erm, kind of was my friend, I suppose."

"Kind of was your friend?" Felix's voice is almost cold, surprising Oliver, but apparently not you. It's clear you're both looking for some kind of elaboration. Why did this feel like an interrogation? What had Michael done? Why was Oliver on trial for it? Felix cracks his eyes open as he takes a long draught of his cigarette.

"Back at the start of the year," Oliver wets his lips, fidgeting, focusing his attention only on the folder you held, desperate to know what was in it.

"Nasty friend you had," you tell him. It's so cold it almost stings.

"Is he the one who got you all riled up the other week?" Felix finally appears to connect the dots, sitting up on his elbows. Thankfully, however, his amusement breaks the tension, and you have to hide your face behind the file as you opened it and began to read. Oliver could feel his heart in his throat, confused, anxious -

"Impressive mathematic record across the board for his first semester, as well all throughout sixth form," you rattled off, eyes narrowed as you look at the paper, "several documented attempts to contact the Head of Math, Phys-Ed, and Life Sciences to," you cleared your throat, shaking your head with surprising disdain, "beg to be exempt from any potentially mandatory Humanities or Social Sciences courses. Unsurprising," you rolled your eyes, "since he bombed his English and French GCSEs, and I think he's the kind of person who prides himself on a perfect GPA."

Every fact you list you do so with such casual cruelty, momentarily folding the file closed and leaning down to make sure you could see Felix.

"He went to high school with us apparently," so casual it actually hurts Oliver a little to hear, "year below us he said," and you wiggle the file in your hands, "looks to be true."

"Still don't know him," Felix shrugs, like he doesn't give any kind of a shit how you got your hands on all of this information. Sitting back, you continued;

"Applied for scholarships - didn't get them; turns out you have to play sports to get a sports scholarships," you click your tongue as you flip through the pages of Michael's file like you were reading the newspaper, "no clubs, no social life, and a notably arrogant prick." You snapped the file closed, levelling a look at Oliver that he'd never seen you make. It was nothing, like a void, demanding a reaction, a response from him. Accusatory yet without any hint of blame, there's something about this look of intense, demanding neutrality that makes him feel actually sick, like you'll be able to know when he lies, know all his secrets if you look at him long enough.

Felix settles back down on the ground, seemingly immune to the tension so thick Oliver felt like he was choking on it. Even if he looks away he can feel your eyes boring into him, like a spider watching a futile fly in it's web.

"What's your problem with him?" Oliver can only bring himself to look out the window, bringing his hand up to scratch at his nose. Maybe if he covers his mouth he won't spill his guts under your gaze. Then, almost so fast it gives Oliver motion sickness, the tension drops.

You sit yourself back, kick your feet out in front of you, and toss the file to the end of the bed. That can't be legal.

"It's sweet that your friends are protective, but he knows you're your own person, right -?" God your light, flippant tone all but rings in his ears. Still, Oliver knows a warning when he hears it.

"He's not my friend; he was, but he's not," Oliver quickly insists, desperate to be on the other side of this deeply uncomfortable conversation. The tension eases in your shoulders when he looks over to you; the right answer. Something about the relief he feels doesn't sit quite right; why had you brought Michael up now of all times? Why had your gaze felt so constricting, even when he and Michael weren't even close; all you would have had to do was ask -

"Said some nasty things about us is all," your voice goes quiet, rueful even, and he follows your gaze to the edge of the bed to where you knew Felix lay, "called Fi a slag."

But there it was; the true audience for your show of force, and the blade that sliced so cleanly through any other attachment people think they have with Felix, all in one.

Its a simple nickname, the most basic nickname anyone could give to a guy named Felix, but no-one else calls him anything but Felix. No-one else calls him Fi the way you do, they wouldn't dare. He wears your nickname like a collar and he doesn't even realise.

"What a cunt," Felix groaned, so infuriatingly uncaring.

In the moments that follow, Oliver almost feels like his head's spinning from the interaction that had just been forced upon him. There's so many questions, new, anxiety-inducing implications for the information you've brought to them both today. Felix doesn't seem troubled by it, but that seems to be the point.

"So fucking hot," he sighs into the afternoon heat, finishing off his cigarette like none of what you'd said even mattered now.

"I know," Oliver finds his voice again, barely. He can't look at you, at the way you're lounging in what he could mistake for triumph. All he can see is Felix, the centre of the fucking universe.

There's something grotesque about you both in this moment, in this room, beautiful and terrible; the perfect picture of privilege and squalor.

"What's that smell?" Pizza, mostly empty drinks, plates and cups unwashed, dirty clothes -

"Uh," if Felix thinks about it, he isn't thinking too hard, clearly, "I don't know." Smoke rings from his pretty lips aren't enough of a distraction from the moment, from the filth of it all now that Oliver's starting to properly look around.

Again he finds himself realising that he has no idea about your background, how you came to find Felix. Sitting with your back to the headboard and eyes closed, even you seem to not care-

"Can't believe you let him live like this," Oliver actually scoffs, hopping from the windowsill, needing to do something with his hands, move, shake off the layer of moral grime that your verbal attack on Michael Gavey had showered him in.

"What?" Felix barely even props himself up, "what are you on about?"

"It's disgusting, Felix."

"It's fine."

"Right, I'm cleaning up -" Oliver moves without thinking, picking up a the waste paper basket and throwing out trash from every surface he can reach. He can't look at Felix, can't look at you, but you're both watching him, "only rich people can afford to be this filthy," he hears himself say. Then, after barking a laugh with no humour in it, he turns his shallow gaze on you, "and what's your excuse? Just picked the habit up after all those years?" For a moment you look at him with genuine confusion, but you give him no real response before Felix tells him to fuck off. But Oliver doesn't stop.

Even as Felix is growing more fed up, insisting he'll clean up later, Oliver's own frustration rises. Felix will never do anything for himself.

Except he doesn't mean to say that part out loud.

That's what gets Felix on his feet, gets him to grab the basket, irritation and resentment on his tongue. Oliver feels like he's touched a live wire, like he's pushed Felix too far, watching him tall, frustrated, glowing with sweat from the afternoon heat. It's the heat Felix complains about as he blows about him room, resentfully stuffing rubbish into the bin, complains about the building and it's age and it's wood fucking panelling that can't be ruined with an air conditioner.

In the moment Oliver chooses to glance to you, he's surprised. You only have eyes for Felix, watching him with an expression Oliver can't begin to fathom, curled up in the corner of his bed. You are waiting. You are holding yourself back. You are desperately trying to let Felix prove Oliver wrong.

"Stressing about the exams?" Oliver tries to pivot, tries to redirect the conversation to something he can claw his way back from, that will keep these relationships from being unsalvageable.

"I'm not stressed about the exams, Ol," Felix sounds like he could snap at any moment, sitting on the edge of his bed, wastebasket held on his knees while his other hand reaches out to you. Still half a foot of space between you, and you keep yourself compact, but the intention is clear; Oliver wonders if he even knows he does that, or if it's just instinct for the two of you these days. Felix, however, is looking at him, that same look he's been giving Oliver since you'd slept with him, "you're driving me fucking -"

Felix seems to realise what he's saying, however, with a sharp inhale as he looked away, moving his free hand from beside you to run through his hair. What is there to say now?

Felix says he's got revising to do, that he'll text later about going to the pub. Oliver desperately wants to believe it, but can hear that it's a lie. Felix can't even fucking look at him.

Oliver finally throws a helpless, hopeful glance to you. This time you are looking at him, but there's apology in your eyes. It's enough. It's the confirmation he'd dreaded, that makes his stomach drop.

"Ollie," even just a few hours ago he'd been in love with the way you said his name. Never like this.

"I'll catch you round," he can't look at either of you as he retreats, cant bare your eyes on him like that, and Felix's turned away.

A million thoughts, desperate ideas, all circle the drain that is quickly becoming his mind as the anxiety and the anguish sets in.

Unsalvageable. Past the point of no return. Irrevocably, awfully different.

With all he'd learned of you both, however, he couldn't just let it go to waste. Oliver had worked for all he had in this life, this prestigious place, among these self-important people. Despite his ongoing attempts to figure you out, he at least knew that if he was good to Felix, he was in good with you.

And Oliver knew exactly who Felix Catton wanted him to be.

[d1xonss]

Hi!! Could I request a one shot where reader and Daryl are like complete opposites?? But he realizes eventually he’s grown to love her or something like that?? Thank you!

Enchanting

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 5/6

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 3.6k

AN ~ Thank you so much for this request! I’ve been writing some pretty sad stuff lately so I’m glad to have something on the lighter side lol. I tried my best with this considering I haven't been writing much outside of the series I've been updating. But I'm always up for the practice. Hope you enjoy!

He just couldn’t wrap his head around it. How someone so fragile, so delicate, so perfect, survived this long in a world as shitty as this. 

Alexandria as a whole felt like a dream within itself. Arriving with his family at the giant gates after living a life of hell on the road, it was something he would call a miracle. Though he hardly believed in such a thing, he thought this was as close as it was going to get. Houses lined up down the road, running water, electricity, it almost seemed too unreal to him to even want to stay in a place like this. 

It took him some time to get adjusted, some of his people having to drag him out of the house by his hair to actually give this place a chance. They wanted him to open up, socialize a bit more with some of the people in the community seeing as they were planning to stay in this dream-like place. 

Carol was the most persistent of them all. She poked and prodded at him for days to get out of the house and actually give this place a chance. He would argue and say that he had left the house since their arrival, but in her mind, going out for hours to hunt was hardly the socializing she had in mind. All she wanted was for Daryl to be able to thrive here as the rest of them were slowly doing, not wanting to see him completely shut himself out.

So, after a whole week of trying to coax him out of the secure home, he finally agreed to a party. 

Did he enjoy parties? No, absolutely not. He didn’t know what to do at those types of events, not knowing how to really talk with others freely as it wasn’t exactly his strong suit. He would most likely just awkwardly stand in the corner by himself until enough time passed for him to be able to leave. And at least then he could say he tried.

When the day finally came it was safe to say he was a little nervous. He hadn’t talked to really anyone outside of his close knit group in what felt like forever. He had no idea if he would even be good at the whole “small talk” thing as he never once was to begin with. But still, he promised he’d try.

So, after getting back from a hunt he went on earlier that day, he headed towards the lit up house as instructed. Though the closer he got, the more nervous he became. His palms began to sweat a little as he wiped them a few different times on his jeans, trying to swallow whatever anxiety was creeping back up to haunt him. It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, but it was. To him, it was.

He eventually forced himself to open up the front door with almost instant regret, seeing a few turning heads to notice his presence in the room. Though he tried to ignore it for the most part, only nodding to the familiar faces he saw in different areas of the mostly filled house. He already grew uncomfortable at the watchful eyes that managed to follow him, purposefully looking away as he kept his head down while he moved.

Alright, time to find a corner, he thought to himself as he subtly scoped the place out, preparing to be alone for most of the night.

“Daryl!”

Damnit.

He reluctantly turned his head to see Carol approaching him rather quickly with a wide smile on her face as she quickly brought him into a hug, “Oh, I’m so happy you made it.” 

“Mhm,” he hummed with a nod as he patted her back awkwardly before she finally pulled away, “Said I’d try…so m’ tryin.”

“And I’m very proud of you.” she said sincerely as she placed a hand on his cheek for a moment, before pulling back with an even larger smile, “You want something to drink?” 

He dipped his head in a nod of appreciation as she tapped his shoulder, “I’ll be right back.” she promised, before turning around to maneuver through the sea of people.

Daryl patted the sides of his legs nervously as he waited for her return, scanning over different things in the house that caught his attention. One was the slightly flickering light above his head, another was the music playing somewhat softly in the background of people’s loud conversations. And the third was a laugh. A quite delightful laugh that had his attention from the second it hit his ears.

Daryl’s head whipped in the direction of the sudden delicate noise, his eyes catching sight of a woman he had never seen around the community before. Over the past week he had managed to see a few other residents of Alexandria when he traveled outside, sending them a polite nod when he passed through. But he had never seen you before.

He watched intently as you interacted with someone else from right next to you, whispering something close to your ear as you let out another light and enchanting laugh. His eyes moved over the features of your face, seeing your eyes crinkling at the corners and dimples forming on your cheeks from how wide you smiled. His lips parted a little at the sight, his head even tilting a bit to the side as he continued to study your movements.

You occasionally tucked a piece of hair behind your ear everytime it got in the way of your eyes, your hand effortlessly falling back down to grasp the cup of the drink you held in your hands. Your nose occasionally scrunched up a bit as you spoke, clearly about something that brought you joy and it intrigued Daryl more than he was willing to admit. A part of him wanted to get closer to hear the delightful story you were surely telling. He could in fact almost make out the sound of your voice from where he stood-

“Here’s your drink.” Carol’s voice quickly cut into his thoughts.

He practically jumped out of his skin at her arrival, glancing down to see the beer bottle in her hands before swiping it in his own grasp with a quiet thanks. Her brows furrowed in slight confusion as now all Daryl could seem to focus on was the ground, but curiosity got the better of her as to why he was so jumpy. Her eyes glanced behind her shoulder and did a scan of the surroundings…before a smirk was brought to her face.

“She’s pretty.” she commented casually.

Daryl’s eyes flew up to meet her smug expression with a scoff, “Dunno what yer talkin bout.” he brushed off as he raised the bottle to meet his lips.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “I’m not dense, Daryl, and neither are you…” she trailed off before glancing back once more to catch you laughing yet again, “I think you should go talk to her.”

A scoff was the only response he could come up with, a reddened pigment covering his cheeks at the suggestion. You were already having a good time, why the hell would you want to talk to someone like him instead.

“I’m serious.” Carol pushed, “I think it’s the right kind of socializing you need.” she finished with a wink.

He gave her a pointed look as he took another swig of the liquid, his eyes panning back over towards you as the person whom you were once talking with, suddenly walked away. So now you stood alone, swaying back and forth a little to the music in content as you occasionally took a sip from your own drink as well.

“Well, would you look at that…a spot seemed to open up.” Carol teased as she nudged his side a little to which he just brushed her away with an annoyed grunt.

Though he couldn’t argue as he continued to casually glance at you still standing alone, though it looked like you didn’t mind too much. You looked almost too peaceful in a cramped party filled to the brim with people. Maybe he should take a chance. Just this once in his life maybe the leap of faith would do him some good, giving him an opportunity to talk to you.

After having an eternal inner debate with himself and a loud sigh left his lips, he finally pushed himself to move forward. He tried to ignore Carol’s wide smile in encouragement as he passed by her completely, but it truly was hard to ignore. He huffed as he moved further, awkwardly squeezing by a few people lingering in the way before he could reach you.

Although it happened all too fast, now standing in front of you with somewhat of a blank expression as you now looked him in the eye. Daryl swallowed thickly as he stood frozen upon seeing your gaze match his, your eyes were beautiful as they seemed to hold something much more than he was expecting. Everything about you seemed to make time stop for him.

“Hi.” you greeted politely after a few seconds of silence, sending a smile his way that almost caused him to melt.

He cleared his throat, “Hey.” he responded dryly, now almost panicking as he didn’t think this through as much as he should’ve. He was suddenly rendered speechless, not knowing what to say next as you looked at him almost expectantly.

Though your eyes narrowed the smallest bit, the smile still remaining on your face, “I recognize you, you’re new.” you stated with a raised finger, “Apart of Rick’s group, right? Daryl?”

“Uh huh.” he mumbled as he continued to stare, almost in disbelief that you had recalled seeing him before, enough to recognize him and even know his name. He’d almost wished you would repeat his name again so he could hear you say it just once more.

Your smile widened even more if that were possible as you suddenly held out your hand for him to take, “I’m (Y/N).”

And just like that, after hearing your name for the very first time, he could never seem to get it out of his head. He didn't necessarily know it then, but you would soon become a person that Daryl cared very much for. Someone he would give up his life for. Someone he would grow to love.

He was infatuated with you, slowly finding the time to leave the house more and more so he could have a chance at catching you outside as well. Normally he would never be so bold as to plan something like this just to get a chance to talk to you, but he couldn’t help it. There was just something so special about you that he couldn’t ignore.

Months in the community went by just like that, getting countless chances and opportunities to spend more time with you on multiple occasions. You were honestly flattered that the stoic man wanted to seek you out whenever he got the chance, offering to help fix something in your house or inviting you out on one of his hunts, you were always excited upon his arrival.

In exchange you would always have something to give him in return for his countless acts of kindness. Whether it was giving him something you had baked or his worn jeans you offered to patch up and sew, you wanted to give him something. He always seemed to deny your persistence, wanting nothing in return as he thought you were the best gift he could ever receive. But still you pushed, batting your eyelashes at him until he finally agreed to take whatever you presented, leaving you smiling at his bashful state.

You knew of his growing feelings towards you, of course you did. You picked up on it after he stopped by your house about three different times to make sure the bathroom sink he had fixed was still working properly. Daryl however was still painfully oblivious as he failed to realize that after all this time, you too found yourself growing feelings for him.

“I think you should just bite the bullet and ask her.” Carol advised as she mauvered around the kitchen, cooking dinner for the two of them.

Daryl’s constant resort was to just scoff at her words as he held his head in one of his hands at the kitchen island, “Alright.” he mumbled sarcastically.

She whipped around with slightly widened eyes, “I’m being serious!” she said as she stirred something heated on the stove, “And you better do it fast before she gets swept up by someone else.”

His eyes quickly snapped up towards her at the possibility, “Ya think that’ll happen?” he asked, not even trying to hide his worry.

He cared for you deeply, unlike anything he had ever felt before, the last thing he wanted to see was you with someone else. But at the same time he was scared. Scared to ask you out for some kind of date if you didn’t see him the same way he saw you. He didn’t want to ruin what he already had with you, he didn’t want to scare you away. But the suggestion of you being with someone besides him now made him worry further.

“I think that it could happen.” Carol corrected, “She’s very kind and pretty, it’s hard for me to believe she hasn’t found someone yet.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing…” Daryl said as he trailed off, “Better then endin up with some asshole like me.”

The woman sighed heavily as she dropped the wooden spoon in her hands and turned around fully to face him, “Daryl, that girl absolutely adores you. You might not be able to see it, but I do. I think you should just…take a chance. Like you did with that party.” she spoke knowingly.

He sent her a glare through his lids, earning a small laugh from her as she turned back around. His mind seemed to wander for a long moment as Carol’s back was facing him now, thinking if now was really the time to make some type of move. He wanted nothing more than to just confess what he’s been feeling for so long, wanting to sweep you off your feet and never let you go. But it wasn’t that easy.

He had thought about this situation before in the past, a lot more than he was willing to admit, but everytime he seemed to always talk himself out of it. He didn’t know how you would react, if you would be offended or flattered. If you would turn him down easy for leave him brokenhearted. There were too many possibilities for him to ignore, too many scenarios to think through.

But in the end you were the kindest person he had ever met and he felt safe with you, safer than he had ever felt before. Perhaps that was the only reason he needed to finally take a chance.

Before he could even process what he was doing, he suddenly stood up from his seat and headed straight towards the front door, trying not to talk himself out of the sudden decision he just made. He was fast and light on his feet as he walked down the porch steps, nearly falling on his ass as he missed the last one in a hurry. But he hardly let it bother him, looking like a man on a mission to others he was passing by on the sidewalk.

The walk to your house felt fast and slow all at once, his heartbeat rapidly pounding in his chest with each step closer he got. He felt his hands begin to sweat a bit as he trudged up the steps to your pretty yellow house, noticing the arrangements of flowers you had on either side of the porch that matched your personality perfectly. He was inches away from the front door now as he stood back and hesitated to knock on the wooden frame to your home. His eyes glanced down for a moment to your welcome mat below his feet, scraping off his dirty boots as he would never wish to track mud into your house.

With his boots clean(ish) and a huff passing from his lips, he finally raised his fist up towards the door to give it a firm and heavy knock, waiting for you to answer. The seconds seemed to go impossibly slow as he waited, wondering to himself if you were even home. You loved to head to the gardens this time of day, picking your share of the fruits and vegetables being grown. Perhaps he had missed you completely, contemplating if he should just turn around and head back seeing as the seconds turned into minutes.

But then he heard it. The faintness of your voice calling through the house that you were coming, followed by the pitter patter of your light and delicate footsteps. He swallowed thickly before the door was suddenly swung open, revealing your smiling face that seemed to light up even more at just the sight of him.

“Hey!” you greeted cheerfully as you bounded forward to close the distance between you two, bringing him in for a tight embrace.

He grunted at the sudden impact, but smiled a bit to himself as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you softly. He feared that he would break you if he squeezed a little too tight.

You pulled back with a smile just as wide as your eyes lingered a bit over his face, “What’s up? You need something?” you asked politely.

He couldn’t help but think that he needed you and only you, but it felt a little wrong to be that blunt right away so he settled with a shake of his head, “Nah, just…just wanted ta see ya.” he spoke honestly.

Your eyes twinkled at the sweetness of him as you laughed lightly, “I’ve been wanting to see you too.” you admitted, “It feels like it’s been too long since we’ve hung out.”

“Yeah,” he grunted as he cleared his throat a little, “Shit’s gettin busier round here.”

You nodded in agreement, a little sympathy on your features as you knew how much he did around here for the community, “But- uh…” he quickly corrected, “I’ll always make time for ya…no matter how busy it gets.” he admitted nervously.

Your heart warmed as you smiled at him sweetly, “You sure?” you asked a bit playfully, “You sure you’re not too busy?” you poked as you ventured out to take his hand softly in yours.

He smiled down at you as you intertwined your fingers with his, as you normally would do, “Never.” he promised.

His eyes then took the time to take in your appearance as he normally would do. Your hair was pulled back a bit as it was tied up with a light pink ribbon, framing your face angelically as a few strands fell from the front and landed just above your cheekbones. He then noticed the sundress that fit your figure beautifully, finding himself loving the many skirts and flowy dresses you constantly wore. And then the jewelry that hung around your neck, a tiny pink diamond that was shaped into a heart as it sat in the middle of your chest.

It was actually a gift he had given you weeks ago, something he had found on a run that just reminded him of you. It was so soft and delicate, and the heart seemed fitting to your style. 

“Did you…want to come in for a bit?” you asked as you noticed him grow a little quieter than usual.

He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of your sweet voice, “Oh- uh- nah…I just came over here ta…ask ya somethin.”

“So ask.” you prodded gently with a soft squeeze to his hand that made his knees feel like jelly.

You knew that Daryl often had a hard time with things like this, seeing it made him uncomfortable to say or ask something out of his comfort zone. But you were always so patient with him it blew his mind, always willing to wait for him to just come out and say it.

“Alright, so uh…” he cleared his throat before swallowing thickly, “I was just um…just wonderin…if ya wanted to maybe…go on a ride with me sometime…?”

Your eyes brightened a little as you went to open your mouth to answer, but he quickly cut you off, “Nah, I mean- n-not like just a ride, but like…out together sometime…just the two of us...kinda like-”

His rambling went on for a few more seconds before you decided to cut him off instead. He suddenly clamped his mouth shut in a split second when he felt the softness of your lips brushing across his cheek, leaving a light peck before you pulled away with a smile.

“I’d love to.” you said.

The man was stunned to silence, feeling his face get hot and the burning of his cheek becoming more intense as he tired to process your actions. You couldn’t help but laugh a little to yourself as you gave his hand another comforting squeeze while gazing up at him through your long lashes.

“I’m free tomorrow at noon…if that works for you?”

He stood there in bewilderment for a moment or two before frantically nodding his head, not counting on his words in this moment in time. You nodded back before venturing your hand out of his hold and up towards his face to move some of the hair that had fallen over his eyes. He almost quivered at the feeling of your fingers gently touching his hair, silently wanting more though he would never ask.

“I can’t wait.” you admitted gently and quietly, lulling him back into the same enchanting trance he was hit with the moment he caught sight of you for the first time all those months ago.

~ Thanks for reading!

[fanficsat12am]

when the brothers realize how much MC loves them I Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus

📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜

Lucifer & Mammon

Happy New Year everyone!! Hope ya guys had a great flippin holiday time :> As always, notes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated <33 Have fun reading!!

Leviathan

Putting himself down was second nature to him at this point—sometimes he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It especially got even worse after getting into a relationship with you. His mind refused to believe that anyone could ever love someone like him. 

Levi dreaded the day you’d finally see what he sees and ultimately decide to leave, but he wouldn't hold it against you. Why would you settle for someone like him when there were countless others in the three realms who could give you so much more…

“Hey, you okay?” you asked worriedly, noticing his glazed look and how his eyes had dimmed. “O-of course I’m fine! Pft, why would I be lol,” he stumbles out, trying to keep up his facade—but of course, you saw through it. 

As he tries to get back to his game he can feel your eyes piercing him. 

“I’m going to ask you how you are one more time and I would like you to answer me honestly,” gently taking the controller in his hands from him and placing it aside. “Now tell me, what’s up?”

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, the words not too foreign to his tongue. 

“If this is about last week I've already told yo-” “Ugh, that’s not what I meant…” he cuts you off, trying to find the right words. 

“I-it’s just…you could have had ANYBODY else, but instead you’re stuck with me. I can’t 1v1 Beel's body, Diavolo’s money, Asmo’s looks- heck even stupid Mammon’s got charm! I'm just Levi, the plain old third-born…” he bites his lip, trying to keep his tears at bay. His efforts proved futile as he felt its warm trickle slowly dripping down his face, one after the other.

A part of him wanted to take back everything he just said—to restart and pick a different approach. But this wasn’t another one of his games. This was real life, and in here you've only got one shot. It was game over, he knew he had lost. 

He shut his eyes tight, listening closely for the sound of you finally walking out those doors. He couldn't bear to watch you leave him. 

You shake your head at the absurdity of his words, cupping his face into your hand. “I’m not stuck with you, silly. I choose to be here.”

Opening his eyes back again he's met with you smiling at him, the sight making his heart skip a beat. 

“I’m here because I can’t get enough of you. I love how your cheeks would go red when I catch you staring at me,” you say, leaning closer and leaving a kiss on his cheek. 

“How your brows would furrow and your eyes would squint whenever you’re focused on your game,” sending a kiss by the bridge of his nose. 

You gently grab his wrist and fumble on the soft skin of his palms with the pads of your thumb. “How you’d start gesturing with your hands a lot when you talk about the latest anime you’re into,” you reminisce, another kiss now to the back of his hand. 

“How right before you fall asleep, you hold me closer and whisper to the dead of the night how much you love me,” you say as you end it with a tender kiss to his lips. 

“And each day I find myself falling for you even more. They could try to give me the whole world, but they’ll never be you. So please, stop thinking you need to earn my affection because you don't. Not now and not ever.” 

You lift his face up to meet your gaze, looking at him as if you see right through him. “There is nothing I would change about you. You are perfect in my eyes.”

He felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He was left speechless, his mind going haywire with everything you had just said. 

Seeing how his brain had completely stopped working, he let his body do all the talking instead. He wordlessly wrapped you in a tight embrace, cherishing the warmth of your body against his. 

The bitter taste of the sin he was meant to represent felt absent. Levi sensed no need to be envious of others when he had someone like you to call his.

Satan

Not once had he let himself think that he could indulge himself in something such as love—for wrath did not deserve the peace of love. While love held everything together in its warm embrace, wrath tirelessly tore with its cold unforgiving hands. 

Despite their differences, there was no denying that both were blind. Just like a moth, you were entranced by the beautiful embers of his flame, blissfully indifferent to the heat. 

He stared at his reflection with disdain. The obsidian black horns adorning his head felt heavier the longer he looked, not to mention the tail that whipped mindlessly on its own. He gritted his teeth in disgust, delivering a blow to the mirror that sent it hurdling to the ground. Through his ragged breaths and the rapid beating of his heart, he hears a voice not of his own. 

"Satan?" you called, breaking him from his trance-like state. You softly closed his door behind you, hands outstretched and unsteady. 

With each step you took, he took two back—his mind screaming at him to stay away from you but his heart yearning to leap into your hold. 

"Hey, it's okay," you reassured, taking a step towards him. 

"No it's not!" he screams, backing away from your approaching form. 

Hearing the crunch of glass under the weight of his shoes, he takes notice of the mirror he broke just moments ago. Reflected on its cracked surface was a distorted image of him; a monster.

"Please, let me help," you pleaded, trying to close the gap between you. He hastily steps back, tripping on his own feet and leaving him a heap on the floor. 

"Don't come any closer!" he screams, the room shaking with the sheer volume of his voice. You kneel to his level, quickly engulfing him in your arms. 

‘Run. He doesn't deserve you. Just stay away.’ He repeated in his head like a silent prayer, hoping that by some miracle it would come true. 

But as he felt you hold him tighter, he knew you would do nothing of the sort. As he trembled in your arms, he wills himself to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind since the day you'd started dating. 

"Why?" he whispered softly, almost inaudible if not for the heavy silence of the night. "I could lose control. Why do you insist on staying? To even consider feeling anything for a monster such as myself is just…foolish."

You think about your answer carefully, knowing that what you say next will mend or break the man in your hold. "Loving someone takes courage. To trust someone with your heart and believe they would keep it safe. Keep you safe. Let the three realms call me foolish but there's no doubt in my mind that I love you, Satan. Not the Avatar of Wrath, you Satan,'' you answer truthfully, pouring every ounce of your heart into each word.  

Gently taking hold of his chin, you tilt his head up to meet your eyes. "Tell me now Satan, will you hurt me?" you ask, the demon shaking his head immediately. He wouldn't dream of ever wishing to cause harm to you. He would die first before anybody, let alone himself, hurt you. 

"Then it is not foolish of me to love you" you say, your words unfaltering. 

Tears welled in his eyes, accepting defeat at the hands of your love and melting deeper into your embrace. As he lays on your chest, he turns to face where your heart would be and whispers an oath. "I love you, MC. I shall protect you with my life" he vows, sealing his promise with a kiss.

Asmodeus

As the Avatar of Lust and the Jewel of the Heavens, he was always the talk of the town. You, on the other hand, weren’t too familiar with the gossip world. Although you knew that was going to change once you officially became a couple. 

You took no mind to it, brushing them off with a small wave knowing that the wrong move could only add more oil to their flame. But Asmo wasn’t like you. He could feel all the looks they gave him, the incessant whispers and murmurs whenever he’d turn his back. 

He typically had no care for whatever lies people have heard about him. The same could not be said though when they had the audacity to include you into the mix. It was slowly chewing away at him and he couldn’t deny the pit of doubt slowly churning inside him.

“I saw MC out with one of the brothers last week. They’ve been getting closer recently. I wonder what happened between them"

"I saw them leaving school with Simeon yesterday, I’m surprised that’d cheat on Asmo with someone like him” 

”They’ve got the most powerful people of the Devildom wrapped around their finger and they’re still with Asmo? Damn”

The final blow was realizing that everything was better without him in the picture. Your smile wasn't just bright, it was brighter, you weren't just happy, you were happier. 

He slams his door shut, sliding down the wooden surface as he feels his legs give underneath him.

‘Can’t you see? They were never the problem. No matter what you do, you could never satisfy them. Once again you've proved to be useless.’

‘You think they’d just be swayed by your face? By the number of followers you have? Underneath it all you're nothing. It's just pathetic.’

He shook his head, gripping and pulling on his delicate sand blonde hair. No matter how hard he cupped his hands over his ears, their words never ceased. His eyes pricked with tears, months of silent torture finally finding his moment of weakness.  

You on the other hand were beyond worried. You were no stranger to Asmo’s flamboyant walk outs but this was different. As you neared the door to his room, you could hear silent sobs and cries on the other side. Knocking softly, you worriedly call out to him.

“Asmo?” The sobbing stops, rendering the halls eerily silent. “Darling, what’s wrong? Can I come in?” Still no response. 

Asmo freezes at the sound of your voice, the loud thumping of his heart drowning out the constant knocking on his door. An internal conflict rages within him. Not only is the person causing all this mess of emotions on the other side of the door, but the only one who can make it all go away as well. 

“Please talk to me. I need to know that you’re alright.” Just as you’re deciding if you should get some help from the others, the door opens. From it, a hand grabs your wrist, swiftly pulling you inside and closing the door. 

Looking around, the usually bright and pinkish room was cold and dark. You could barely see anything with the only light coming from his window. 

The crisp silence of the night was cut by the uneven breathing of Asmo who was still by the door. You reach out to gently place a hand on his shoulder. 

“Sweetie?” you call, fingertips only a few milliliters away, when his voice stops you in your tracks. 

“Do you love me?” he whispers. 

“Of course I do,” you answer immediately, not missing a beat. 

You gently grab him by the shoulder and turn him to face you, your heart breaking at the sight of your lover being in so much turmoil. 

“Oh, Asmo…” your hand tenderly holds his cheek, the other wiping away the tears that have yet to cease from falling. 

“Each day, I hear another rumor about you finding somebody else…” he pauses, taking a deep shuddering breath. “If you’re going to do it, please just do it already and save me the mascara.”

He knows that watching you leave will hurt more than any hangover can ever do to him. It would be like he was falling from the pristine white gates of Celestia again, powerless as he saw all he held dear fade into a memory of what he had once had.

He could try to convince himself that the rumors were true. That you were only ever with him for his fame and looks and that he never cared about you. But of all the lies that have circulated, that would have been the biggest one.

“Honey, I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever,” you say as you tuck a lock behind his ear. “If you think I’d ever love someone after you then I have failed in showing you how much you mean to me.”

Through blurred vision, Asmo tries to find an ounce of deceit within the windows to your soul; a malicious grin, a break in eye contact, a drop of sweat. Nothing. 

He lets out a shuddering breath he didn’t know he was holding, pressing his soft hands upon your own and interlacing it with his. It was stupid of him to ever doubt your feelings for him. To hell with what they thought of the both of you. All he cared about now was now, being here in your hold, forever.

“You’re so cute sometimes, darling…" he whispers in amusement, a small smile finally making its way onto his lips. 

“Please tell me I still look fabulous even after all that tears. Ugh, my eyes are gonna be so puffed up tomorrow!” 

You chuckle at his comment, happy to see him start coming back to you. “Still ever so stunning, My Prince.”

“Let’s stay like this for just a bit more, hm? All this crying made me tired. Then after, we can run a nice warm bath for the two of us. Doesn't that sound wonderful?” He murmured, melting more into your touch.  

“Whatever you’d like, darling,” you replied, pressing your forehead to his. 

And there you stayed, forehead to forehead, hands intertwined, just you and him in the comfort of each other's touch.

AN: Thanks a bunch for reading!! Would love to hear your thoughts in the comments <33

[evie-sturns]

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

part 2 (part 1 here)

summary: you and your best-friend matt, have decided to sign up to be a summer camp counsellor for your school's summer project! will you two stay as just friends? or will this summer turn out different for you guys.

a/n: theres going to be smut in the next part, hope you guys like this, read part 1 first, linked at the top! fuck danielle

contains: swearing, fighting (physical at some points), kissing/making out

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abrubtly matt pulls away, he saw me. his face drops as dani stares at me. my heart thumps as i freeze. matt tries to walk over to me, but its too late, i've already took off in the other direction.

i've found myself in the empty staff bathrooms, hiding in the stalls. matthew wasted my time, i spent half the fucking roadtrip up here comforting him, then he goes and makes out with her a few hours later?

i can't even understand why im feeling like this, why am i so.. jealous?

the door to the bathrooms swing open, probably matt, coming to explain himself.

"hey, come out of the stall please." a female voice calls out, "who's this sorry?" i say, still on the verge of tears.

"danielle."

my breath hitches in my throat, before i swallow hard. "oh." i mumble, unlocking my stall. im met with her face, shes still wearing the same outfit she was wearing while kissing my best friend.

she suddenly interupts my thoughts, "look, i don't know who the fuck you think you are? but don't go snooping into me and matts personal business, unfortunately hes mine." she says while crossing her arms, i scoff.

"funny you say that, because the whole car ride up here matt's been dreading seeing you, his exact words were, 'fucking hate her' so if i were you i'd back away hm?" i say in a 'sympathetic' tone.

she clenches her fist, running her spare hand through her dark brown bob before smashing her fist into the side of my face.

"what the actual fuck!" i yell before jumping at her, throwing her to the floor. the next 5 minutes are a blur of screaming, punching, hair pulling before she gets pulled off of me.

its jessie, the owner of the fucking camp.

she looks pissed.

(15 minutes later)

ive been sitting alone in the nurses office for 10 minutes, its now 11:30pm, i have to be awake in 7 hours for breakfast setup.

the door to the room im in swings open.

its matthew.

"y/n, are you okay? i heard what happened" he says frantically, sititng down on the chair beside the medical bed.

"oh please matt, dont act like you care." i mutter out.

"what?" he says cluelessly.

"look, go find out how danielles doing, oh! or you could fuck her while your there, go back to your cabin with her!" i yell, matts eyes widen as he looks at me.

"we aren't sharing a cabin, im with lincoln, shes with paige." he mumbles as he fidgets with his hands.

i laugh out of disbelief before standing up, pushing past him out of the room im in before swinging open the door to the nurses office.

the cold night air hits my fresh wounds as i approach my cabin, the lights are on inside meaning Xavier is still awake. i swing open the door, xaviers face drops "babe what the fuck happened!" he says, running up to me and hugging me, "danielle happened." i sniff as he lets me go.

"you gotta get some rest, we're helping the kids do kayaking tomorrow okay? gotta be up at 6:30." he whispers, as he pulls the covers down on my bed, letting me crawl in.

(6:30am the next day.)

a loud honk blares through the campsite, before jessie on the megaphone starts "shark counsellers! the shark kids are lined up outside the breakfast hall, go help out in the kitchen"

i groan, my face still throbbing from dani's punches. xaivers sits up in the bed opposite me, "you feeling better.." he says, his voice raspy.

i nod, "mhm, not too excited about dealing with about 25 nine year olds." i mumble getting out of bed "you'll be right, theres 6 of us to control them we'll do it." he says optimistically.

i finish up getting changed, tying my hair into two braids. "you coming?" i say, looking at xaiver over my shoulder.

the hall is only a few hundred meters away from the staff cabins, which is now filled with 200 children. matt and lincoln are walking through the doors, dani and paige follow close behind them, too close for my liking.

i step inside, the smell of oatmeal fills my nose as i look around, theres countless tables filled with friend groups, in the back corner matts sitting alone on the last empty table, picking at his dry toast. i sigh loudly before walking over to him, he looks up at me, his eyes are puffy and red, he looks upset.

i sit down opposite him, his breathing picks up before he starts unannouced,

"dani and i.. have hated eachother since middle school. when i saw you get into your cabin with xavier i got fucking jealous. hate to admit it but i did. while i was walking towards my cabin dani approached me, she started touching up on my arms before pulling me off the path into the bushes. she kissed me, i don't know why i kissed her back, i think it was a jealousy thing, i wanted to get back at you?"

he sighs loudly as silence grows.

"look y/n, i really like you, and-" hes cut off by jessie on her fucking megaphone.

"helloooo campers! this is the first official day of summer camp and here are what each group is doing today!, crabs are doing rock climbing, which means it is mandatory to wear closed toe shoes. Sharks will be doing kayaking, please wear your swimsuit and your counsellers will take you down to the lake!"

i barely take in what jessie says, the only thing i'm thinking about is matt's previous sentence

look y/n i really like you.

look y/n i really like you.

(20 minutes later)

we've been sitting by the lake for a few minutes now, watching the kids attempt to kayak, im wearing a triangle white bikini with daisys printed on it, matt's sitting to my left, his eyes have been on me the whole time.

abrubtly he stands up, looking down at me. "come with me." he demands "huh?"

i stand up anyway, he takes my hand and starts to walk towards a shed, he opens the door and switches on the light. the dim warm lighting fills the room, revealing piles of wetsuits and life jackets.

he turns around and closes the door to the shed, locking it behind him.

he looks me in my eyes, his eyes dart down to my lips. "can i kiss you." matt asks, barely audible.

i gulp before nodding my head.

matt's hand holds my cheek gently before connecting his lips with mine. after a few seconds it turns into a makeout, his veiny hand holding my hair.

he pulls away slowly as his phone lights up, he scrolls through it before letting out a soft laugh "no way" he scoffs, rubbing his eyes.

"tonight were sleeping in the kids hall, like me and you, supervising.."

"you're kidding matt"

"nope, apparently theres a small cabin that connects off the kids hall, its got 1 bed that we share" he laughs

my cheeks flush, sharing a bed with matt, after this?..

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hope you guys liked this, like i said there will be smut in the next part!!

taglist:

@iammattsturniolo @iloveneilperry @tatumrileyslover @chrisstopherfilmed

[kakujis]

do you love me? 2;

synposis: they wake you up at 3am to ask if you love them. pt 1 here. 3 + 4

warnings: gn!reader, clingy bfs, no set timeline, kazutora's is a lil sad, insecurities, implications of cheating(there is none tho). not proofread!

feat: kakucho, kazutora, izana.

a/n: after i wrote the first part, i wanted to do the same thing but switched! this is the most flowery, fluttery, butterflies searching for a drink type beat drabble i've ever written. i haven't written like this in a while soo i hope it makes sense lol. the tone of kaku's is a lil different because i started his first oops! also big ty to @fuyuluvr for helping me finish izana's bit. ♡

kakucho had never once doubted you, not when you’ve told him he’s the sun and the moon and the reason why the stars gather in the night sky, cheesy words always getting a hot blush on his face. how could he, when you’ve barreled through the doors of your shared apartment to jump into his waiting arms, peppering kisses along his jaw, whines of “i missed you! i missed you!”. 

but it’s hard lately when he finds you and rindou with hushed voices at the gym, sitting on a bench, sheepish grins on your faces when he approaches to ask what the two of you have been talking about. 

“nothing!” you exclaimed, slipping your phone back into your pocket, scooting farther from the blonde beside you. “i’m gonna head out okay? i’ll see you later.” you exchanged one more glance with rin who nodded to you. kakucho remembers the surprised look on your face, when he pulled you into a particularly tight hug pressing his lips to your forehead, “see you at home,” you said, eyes softened before breaking free and walking out. 

he tried his best to not pry throughout his workout, tried his best to not get angry when rindou asked, “you alright?” when he noticed the particularly quick responses that kakucho was throwing at him. 

“yeah, i’m fine.” he assured, fighting the urge to accuse his friend of anything nefarious. but man was it hard with this little nail in his heart hammering away at his insecurities and worst fears. maybe it was time to take izana’s advice and “just ask them about it.” 

and that’s how he ended up here, sitting awake at 3am listening to the tick of a clock. even in your sleep you clung on to him, drooling and snoring on his arm. 

gently, he reaches over to shake your shoulder. the shift made you cling harder, eliciting a whine from your sleepy state. kakucho chuckles, before he shakes a little bit harder, already feeling a little silly at his concerns. 

“you awake yet?” he asks when you finally start to blink your eyes and glance up at him. 

“hi,” you yawn, using your hand to wipe at your drool, “what time is it?” you prop yourself up, squinting at the clock on the wall. 

“like 3am.” he says, unable to hold back the smile on his face as he studies your sleepy expression.  

“hmm? why are we awake then?” you yawn again, droopy lids starting to fall again, but kakucho stops you before you’re able to fall asleep. 

“wait,” he mutters, pulling you up so that you’re pressed against his chest and facing him. he places his hands on the sides of your cheeks, staring straight into your drowsy eyes. “do you love me?” 

the question catches you off guard, you’ve never seen him so serious before. there’s a crease in his brow and his heterochromatic eyes hold something like worry, something that’s scared, as if you’d say no. 

you blink off the sleep that once riddled your bones before scowling, “kaku.. what kinda question is that? of course i love you.” you assert, squirming until you’re straddling him. you place your hands on top of his own, prying one down to lace with your fingers. “why?” 

he looks away, burning under your gaze, “it’s nothin’,” he mumbles, dropping his other hand from your face. but since you’re fully awake now, the haze of sleep gone, you catch on fast, the wheels in your head rewinding back to earlier that day at the gym.

“ohh,” you hum, removing your hand from his and cupping his face this time so that he’ll look at you. “is this because of earlier? with rindou?” 

“maybe..” he says, eyes darting away from yours, “it’s just weird you don’t want me to hear what you two are talking about and it’s also not the first time so...” 

you sigh, climbing off of him and reaching over to the nightstand on your side of the bed to grab your phone. settling back next to him, you unlock the screen and click on your messages. you wiggle your phone at him adding, “i’ve got nothing to hide, see?” before you open the texts with rindou:

y/n: HEY

rindou 🙄: hi

y/n: IS PROJECT KAKUCHO STILL A GO??

rindou 🙄: project kakucho??? 

y/n: dont tell me u forgot… his birthday is coming up!!!

the conversation continues with the plans the two of you had made specifically for kakucho’s birthday, the venue, the people invited, what kind of cake you should get, etc. you scroll slowly, periodically glancing up at your boyfriend as the blush on his face deepens. probably from a mixture of embarrassment and the way every mention of his name has some type of adjective describing how cute he is. 

“see? i wanted to surprise you.” you say, beginning to hand the phone over, “you can scroll up even earlier if you want.” 

“no, i trust you…” he says before taking your phone and putting it down on the nightstand. “sorry, that was sort of stupid of me.” honestly, he had completely forgotten about the occasion, it was just another day for him. 

you shake your head, “well.. i can’t blame you. if i’m thinking about it from your perspective, i’d probably be a little suspicious too.” 

he blinks, caught off guard by the way you agreed without a hint of sarcasm. “really?” 

you nod, “yup… especially if i didn’t trust my partner, cmon now! rindou?” you tease and he groans out another “sorry.” 

“couldn’t you have thought i had a crush on one of your cute friends?” you scoff, crossing your arms. 

“rindou is cute though.” he says quickly and matter of fact, not really processing what he’s just said. 

“huh?”

“he’s… y’know, he’s good looking.” he repeats, gesturing with his hands and glancing down at you. your face is unreadable as you take in the information, those little gears in your head turning again. 

“hm. well, if he’s so good looking then you should totally date him.” you joke, trying your best to keep a straight face. 

“that’s not what i meant!” kakucho exclaims, running his hands down his face and you laugh. 

“gimme my phone, i’ll set you up.♡” you chime, holding your hand out. “besides i think he’s into you too! totally checks you out at the gym.” 

“can you stop?!” 

kazutora: 

kazutora has an annoying little habit, where he doubts if you really love him, which culminates in late night questioning. you’ve assured him many times before that you don’t mind, you’ll tell him as many times as he wants and you’ll reassure him whenever he’s doubtful, but he hates it. this little worm of insecurity that digs its way through his stomach, his chest, until it makes it up into his brain, shaking and bouncing off it’s walls until he can’t take it anymore. 

he hates this feeling, more so because he knows it’s stupid, he knows there’s no reason for it, there’s never been any indication for it and yet, he still cries or lashes out because of it. like maybe he's not that good of a person, maybe he's not what you need, and maybe he'll never be enough. what better time for insecurity to sink it’s fangs in than the dead of night? 

he rolls over, cheek squished against the pillow. reaching over to quickly pull you closer to him, back against his chest. you shift a little, rousing out of sleep, tilting your head up towards his with a little curl of a smile. it’s so easy to read him now and pick up on his mood changes, but you think nothing negative, instead feeling warm that sometimes he’s so vulnerable with you, searching for his security like a child looking for their favorite blanket. 

“hi tora,” you mumble, voice heavily laced with sleep, “what’s wrong baby?” he doesn’t answer at first, the only response to you being an even tighter squeeze under his muscled arms. you respond back, wriggling under his touch, pressing so far into him it’s as if the two of you are trying to mold together and become one. 

“do you love me?” he asks, voice barely louder than a whisper. 

“i’ve never loved anything more,” you proclaim and kazutora gives a little needy whine while his hands start to wander up the expanse of your skin and you giggle as his touch tickles you under the sheets. 

“you’d pick me every time?” he asks, the heaviness in his heart lightening with each breathy giggle of “that tickles!” but it’s his way of comforting himself, whether it’s running his hands over your bare skin or inserting them into your jacket pockets while he holds you from behind, kazutora finds solace in the warmth of your body. 

“mhm! every time, without a doubt! now stop!” you say in between laughs, desperately trying to push his hands off of you but he’s stronger, hands curling into the plush fat of your side and you yelp. “toraa!” 

“hmm?” he teases, continuing his relentless assault. but the way you’re kicking and squirming has his hold on you weakening. you’re unable to fully control your movement, thrashing as your elbow flies back, hitting him right in the stomach. “ow, fuck!” he groans, releasing you and rolling over. he grimaces as he places a hand where you hit him, curling inwardly on himself. 

out of breath, you roll onto your knees, sitting up while you scoot closer to him. one hand rests on your side, aching from your previous uncontrollable laughter. 

“not my fault.” you pant when he glances up at you with puppy dog eyes. “i told you to stop.” you roll your eyes at him, but the pout gracing his face persists and you give in. you bend over, brushing away stray blonde locks from his face before you bend down and give him a kiss. “sorry.” 

“s’okay,” he grins, eyes crinkling as he pulls you back down into his embrace. there’s a few minutes of silence, the only noise being the occasional swivel of fabric underneath your feet as readjust every so often. “you really meant it, right?” he asks, breaking through the silence, that pesky little worm still rearing it’s ugly head in his thoughts.

“every word.” you reply, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. you place a finger on his lips as you continue, hoping to dispel the rest of his worries. “in any dimension, in any lifetime. if i could live a thousand lives, i’d pick you every time.” 

he blinks before he’s pushing your head down to rest on his chest. there’s no vocal response, instead only the tremble of his body as his grip on you turns crushing, one hand’s fingers intertwined with the tresses of your hair. you realize now that it was due to his embarrassment, a silent plea to just this once, not look at him as his relief spills out as fat, droplet tears that run down his face and onto yours. but it’s okay, you’ve always embraced the rain. 

izana:

izana thinks its insane every time you pull at the that strings that hold together his weary heart. but you pluck at them with each call of his name that rolls off your tongue like a siren call, entrancing and pulling him towards you and only you. with those vibrations he seeks you like a moth to a flame, fluttering towards your light and basking in the glow. 

heavy and sluggish, he trudges up the stairs to your shared apartment inwardly cursing about how late it is. the plan is to take a shower and get in bed as quietly and quickly as possible. you’re definitely asleep by now, so he tries his best to enter silently, not wanting to wake you. but as he tiptoes into your bedroom, the sight of you asleep huddled under the covers as you hug izana’s pillow has him falling onto the bed, gently taking the pillow from your arms and replacing it with himself. 

you scrunch your face as you awaken, heavy lidded eyes blinking and adjusting to the blurry image of izana before you. pretty lavender eyes watch you with a small upturned grin that grows wider at your, “mm?” the chirrup of your voice like the birdsongs in the morning. izana thinks you’re the prettiest melody, better than any song on the radio or classical composition. 

“good morning.” he says and you tilt your head quizzically, squinting at the alarm clock on your nightstand, the lull of sleep still beckoning you over. 

“it’s 3am, zana,” you whine when you read the red blink of numbers, trying to roll over but he holds you still, arms wrapped around your hips. 

he shrugs, a smirk on his face. “and?” 

“and i was sleeping.” you mumble, irritation lacing through your voice before frowning and closing your eyes. 

the quirk of his grin falls, settling into a line, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt. he knows he came home late and he knows it’s probably annoying to be woken up, yet he was hoping you’d still be excited to see him, to be with him.

“do you love me?” he asks, knowing it’s a dumb question. your reaction is normal, but being around you makes him feel abnormal, and he’s so greedy for everything you’ve got. he thinks you’ll reprimand him again for keeping you awake, but instead you hum when he starts to caress your face, the pad of his thumb running over your skin in airy strokes.

“mhm. i love, love you.” you reply, happily keening up into his touch, pressing your cheek further into his hand. 

“say it again,” he says and you open one eye, quirking an eyebrow. you almost say, “really?” but the insecurity dancing in his eyes stops you and you comply.

“i love you.” you say again, a little louder this time. 

“again.” he commands.

“izana..” you huff. you know him, this could go on for hours if you gave in. 

“just one more time, please?” he pleads hanging onto his last word. he’s never told you, but this is his favorite song, the kind that always gets stuck on replay in his head. the one that he puts on to comfort him when the outside noise of daily life is a little too loud. 

“i love you.” you sigh, conceding and punctuating it with a quick peck on his lips and he grins. “happy now?” 

he nods, “i’ll never get tired of hearing that.” he presses a kiss to your cheek, letting you settle back into a more comfortable position. you lay with your back to his chest, as he cages you from behind. “now get some sleep, its late.” 

you’re quick to look back at him, eye brow raised in disbelief.  “you’re literally the one who woke me up?” 

“shh, that doesn’t matter, just go to sleep.” 

“but-“ 

“good night, love.” he interrupts, thinking that he should record it the next time you sing him such a pretty number. 

[wildandsmile]

Can you do upper moons with a bratty reader like if they doesn’t get what they wants they act out ? (Nsfw pls) btw I love your writings.

𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓬𝔂

Tw: Blood

Kinks: f-reviving, overstim, figuring, exhibitionsm, name calling, brat taming, cock sleeve, thigh riding, impact play, brush play, knife play, Dom Gyutaro (for once)

Word Count: 1.8k

Note: I appreciate the compliment and the suggestion, so I hope you enjoy this

Come back for Hantengu, Nakime,Daki and Kaigaku

Enjoy!

Kokushibo

Maintains a predominantly quiet demeanor, prompting you to playfully provoke him during your joint missions in order to coax him into conversation.

Most often, it proves ineffective, prompting your resourceful nature to explore alternative approaches, sometimes inadvertently exposing your cover or even unnecessarily harming a human or two.

You anticipated provoking a reaction from him, yet he chose to maintain his silence, unaffected.

Unbeknownst to you, he was meticulously tallying each minor error you had committed throughout the evening.

As you at last return to the estate, you sense his hands enveloping the back of your neck, his voice a hushed murmur, "Now that we've returned, it’s time for your punishment."

You whimpered, "Koku no more, no more pls" as your trembling hands tried to push him away from your now overstimulated clit, but he was letting up; he'd been at it for hours. At first, he'd made you look him in the eyes while he licked long laps across your slicked folds, but when he realized that was too much for you to handle, he decided to be a little nice He continues, "Come on darling, don't tell me that I've already fucked you stupid on my tongue" as he glides his mouth over your dripping cunt, making you flinch from the sensation of his hot breath against your cunt. As you groan and writhe on the bed, "Pls Koku pls" comes out of your mouth, and Kokushibo promptly stops you by pushing your hips into the mattress with one hand and bringing down hard with the other to spank your ass. Kokushibo says, "Come now darling don't be bratty just tell daddy what you want." You resist at first, but then you hide your eyes with your arm and give in. "Please koku, please just fuck me already," you beg, as he plants a kiss on your thigh, followed by a hasty "If that's what you want, darling."

Doma

Was a little different in his approach to dealing with your spoiled behavior, which consisted mostly of embarrassing you at the upper moon meetings

Typically, the two of you would assume positions on opposite sides, but whenever you displayed misbehavior or didn't provide the desired level of attention he wanted , he would promptly position you right beside him.

Initially, you didn't perceive these occurrences as problematic, assuming he would overlook your attitude, but your assumption couldn't have been further from the truth.

The instant Muzan appeared, silence blanketed the room. Sensing the opportunity, Doma deftly exploited the moment, discreetly slipping his hand into your dress.

You try to stifle a moan as you say, "Doma, please stop—we're having a meeting right now." Despite your pleading, he pumps his fingers deep inside you, curling them each time they touch your sweet spot. You started to respond, but Doma's thumb found your swollen clit and began rubbing sloppy circles, prompting you to grab on to his thigh for support. "You shouldn't be worried about me sweetheart, you should be focused on Lord Muzan," he says with a sadistic grin covering his face. You looked Doma straight in the eyes and pleaded, "Doma pls, stop I'm about to cum." But you had no idea that your pathetic expression and crocodile tears were only making Doma more enthusiastic. Finally, the conference is over, and Doma pulls you up into him roughly; upon standing, you tumble into his arms, at which point he bursts out laughing. His figure is covered in your juices, and he displays them to you while saying, "You know for such a bratty girl you sure fall apart like a dirty slut," and then he licks his palm clean and adds, "You know this is just the start of your punishment right sweetheart."

Akaza

Dedicated to continuous training, striving to overcome the Upper Moon One, Kokushibo, alongside the Hashiras.

Often, when you were seeking emotional reassurance or craving attention, it seemed elusive, leading to moments of emotional turmoil prompting your occasional acting out.

Primarily, you would engage in playful teasing during his workout sessions. Whenever he initiated his routine, you'd position yourself nearby, playfully bending and assuming various poses, catching his gaze and providing him with quite the view.

But what really got under his skin was hearing you groan while stretching, saying things like, "O these feels so good" or "I wish I had something that would stretch me out better."

Akaza, possessing zero tolerance for impudence, promptly halted his training. Striding over to you, he swiftly lifted you and carried you to his weightlifting area. Settling down, he positioned you on his muscular thigh, his strength and presence palpable.

You had been sitting on Akaza's thigh for some time after he encouraged you to "earn" his attention if you wanted it. You've spent the entire day craving an ogasm, and now you're dragging your clothed cunt across his flexed thigh to get it. Every time you felt that knot from within your stomach, you would start thrusting, basically humping his leg, and your cunt was throbbing and your clit was all nice and puffy, but this wasn't enough. You decide you need more and work your way down Akaza's thigh to his hard cock, but just as you're about to start touching it, he lets out a long groan and says, "Didn't I tell you that you had to earn this cock, you dirty slut?" You try to protest, but he stops you with a hard slap on the ass. Akaza says with a deep groan, "Brats like you don't get to talk back is that understood." You let out a small yes and go back to trying to make yourself cum by humping his thigh, but he finally had enough of your feeble attempts and bent you over his work table, ripped your pants off, and said, " I guess I'll have to fuck you silly like the brat you are since you can't even make yourself cum properly.”

Gyokko

Similar to Akaza, Gyokko remained unwaveringly dedicated to his tasks. When not engrossed in his work, his attention was invariably directed towards Lord Muzan.

Describing your relationship as more akin to that of a master and a devoted companion is a more accurate portrayal than labeling it as a romantic bond.

Typically, this would trigger your bratty behavior; however, unlike the other Upper Moons, it was notably effortless to provoke a reaction from him.

You'd frequently locate him in his chamber, engrossed in creating new artwork. To playfully ruffle his feathers, you'd comment on his latest piece, suggesting it was exceptionally impressive or innovative.

This would lead to a hint of frustration, prompting him to restart. However, your antics wouldn't end there; you'd venture into his collection, identifying something seemingly new, only to critique it with remarks like "It was an eyesore" or "Breaking it was a favor—it was painfully ugly." This chain of actions often culminated in pushing him to his breaking point.

In no time, you found yourself forcefully propelled onto the bed, and in that very instant, a sense of anticipation gripped you, indicating that you were in for an intense encounter.

Gokkyo warns you not to move lest he "mess up" as he runs the long brush across your tender nubs: "Stand still if you keep moving I'll mess it up." Because you ruined his painting, Gokkyo decided to use you as a canvas. Naked, you watched as he dragged the brushes across your icy flesh. It was causing your cunt to throb so much that you tried to close your legs together, but Gokkyo swiftly spread them out and pressed you even deeper into the mattress with his hand. By this time, you were writhing in pain from the combination of the brushing and Gokkyo's cold hand on your naked body, so he eventually dragged the brush down to your aching cunt and flipped it over to the dull side to massage your clit. You can hear him saying, "This is what you wanted right, for me to give this naught cunt some attention right" as he presses the brush firmly against your clit and begins to flick it up and down on his brush. You started to want more, so you clung to his forearm and moaned gently. Please elaborate. After quickly extracting his cock and aligning it with your soaping moist hole, Gyokko leaned in and murmured something in your ear. “Since you're not fit for artistic purposes, I'll just use you as a filthy cock sleeve.”

Gyutaro

Gyutaro diverged slightly from the other Upper Moons in his perspective. To him, the term "brat" signified an irritating child, making it challenging for him to perceive you in that light.

He consistently presumed your behavior was a result of a passing mood swing or that he might have inadvertently provoked your anger.

During a meeting of the Upper Moons, Doma initiated a discussion about his partner's mischievous behavior, referring to them as a "brat."

As Gyutaro listened to Doma's words, a transformation occurred within his mindset. Gradually, a growing anger took hold of him. He realized that you had been purposely avoiding him, refraining from his touch as part of your playful strategy to act out and grab his attention.

All you needed to do was express your desire; he found it impossible to refuse someone as beautiful as you. The realization that he had been contemplating seeking Daki's assistance in this situation only intensified his anger.

Gyutaro snatched you away from his sister the moment he returned from the meeting and hurried you into your shared bedroom. It didn't take long for you to freeze up after hearing Gyutaro exclaim, "This is what you wanted right to get punished to be pounded by my cock" as he licked the nape of your neck. And lucky for you, Gyutaro was enjoying watching your gorgeous eyes water and your hips try to stop bucking since you didn't want to cut yourself on his sickle. He warns, "You better stop moving, princess, or I might just cut you" as he draws a thin line of blood from your thigh with the blade of his knife. Gyutaro had never felt so hot in his life; ordinarily, you would be the one on top of his, but while the two of you were going at it, your stunning good looks and flawless physique were enough to render him helpless. So now that he had you where he wanted you, he had no intention of letting you go. Gyutaro whispers to you as he licks your hot tears from your cheeks, "Hehe you know princess you look a pretty when cry and you look even better when my hands are around your throat." His hands wrap neatly around your neck, gripping it just tight enough to where you could breathe if you worked hard enough. Your moaning was the result of Gyutaro ripping your clothing off with his sickle, quickly aligning his cock with your cunt, and then slamming his entire cock within. “Now that I have you here, Princess, I might as well make you as hideous as me, heh heh.”

[dark-night-hero]

i love the imagine u wrote where zhongli would give us up for the world 🥹🥹 and it got me thinking:

what if the reader gets incarnated to the current timeline we have and meets zhongli again? they don’t have the past memories but somehow zhongli feels familiar for them. Z thinks this era is the right time for him to take back the past and do things right so he spends time w them but he somehow finds out that reader has a lover (maybe another playable character). Z begins to asks questions abt their lover and idk how their convo would play out but I just imagine where reader gets a question where they answer with “i would give up the world for them (their lover)” and zhong is just hit with past memories and regrets wishing how he could have done things differently idk i j imagine it rly angsty 😭😭

Sorry to disturb but this has been on my mind i cant stop thinking abt it and i wanted to share 😭😭 Anyways, i look forward to more of ur works!! keep up the good work ur doing great 🥺🫶

: following zhongli (world > you)

Imagine how had Mor- Zhongli tried to get close to you, you who obviously was rather uncomfortable with his presence. And the only key to it was the traveller, the same old traveller that had help Liyue and Monstand and is now away on their venture in Inazuma. That being said, nowadays he had been keeping you company.

"You've been off since the departure of the Traveller." Zhongli spoke as he stand right beside you in the harbor.

"Really? I didn't notice." You have him a small smile.

"But I guess you're right, I've been missing the traveller so bad nowadays." You chuckle.

Imagine, at that very moment, Zhongli hoped he didn't not see you. Not when you're looking like that. Not when you're looking so soft, so lovely, obviously longing for someone, someone who definitely wasn't him.

Imagine the way his heart dropped to his stomach. The way his hand clenched around nothing before realising it. And after a few moments of silence.

"Do you.. Perhaps have feelings for the traveller?"

Imagine the way his voice shaken, obviously did go unnoticed by you. The way his amber iris were shaking, hoping and trying to deny reality as best as he can. He had hope for a chance. He knew this time, nothing can go wrong with the two of you. So he approached you, he tried to get close to you, he really did. But perhaps it was already too late, or was it? Did he even had a chance in this new persona he now possess?

"Honestly, I'm not sure myself." You chuckle.

"Or so I thought before the traveller left. Did you know? The traveller confessed to me, but Traveller also told me that they had so many things going on at the moment so.." As you look beyond the sea, you smile genuinely.

"I was wondering that in the world was the Traveller even thinking confessing and leaving me just like that, but now that I think about it. Its wasn't so bad."

Imagine the way you smile, the way your brush back your hair, trying to fix it upon the harsh breeze that have been messing with your hair earlier.

"If the world wants me dead, if the world see me as a threat, what would you do?"

"Huh?"

"What was the question that suddenly came into mind as soon as te Traveller confessed."

"What was the Traveller reply?"

Imagine the way you laugh, the way you smile genuinely as you recall the answer of that silly, adventurous, kind Traveller reply.

Imagine the way Zhongli kept staring at you, you who looked all refesh and happy, bright as you were before. Oh how much it hurts him he was no longer the reason why.

"How about a new world?"

"What?"

"I'll just have to take you to a new world. As you are already aware I wasn't from this world. All we have to do is to escape and find a new world where no one can take you away from me. Although my twin always somes first, I cannot afford to loose you, you know?"

"..." "(First name)? Are you o-?" "Pfff.."

"Did I say something funny?" "No.. hehe, I'm just.. I don't know." Was it relief that you felt?

Imagine the way you let out a sigh. Thinking about the Traveller only makes you miss them more. Perhaps you should have given the Traveller a reply back then but both of you agreed to put more thought into it and give them a reply upon coming back.

"Escape." It was just one word.

"I see." Zhongli replied, this time he looked away from you.

"If you don't mind me asking." "What is it?"

"If it's for the sake of the world, would you be willing to kill them?"

Imagine the way you once again let out a sigh, as you went quite only for a few moments, you face him and tug his sleeve.

"If that person meant the world for you, isn't that enough reason to be selfish?" You chuckle.

"Isn't a world without your beloved would only felt like a living hell?" You added as you never once look away from him.

"It goes on without saying that it's them over the world. That's how much they matter to me, that's how much I love them."

Imagine the way Zhongli chuckle and the way his lips form a bitter smile afterwards nevertheless, he agreed to you and eventually excuse himself. Leaving you all alone in the harbor, all waiting for the Traveller and not him. But it's alright, one way or another, he deserves this.

Imagine as Zhongli walks away from you, you stare at him and as you do so. He looks so lonely. But then you blink as a harsh breeze passes by, turning your look into the horizon, the sun was peacefully setting. How beautiful yet it left a bitter taste in your mouth in which you soon ignore.

"Escape huh."

Imagine, it's not like he did not think about it. But back then, the best choice was to kill you. But after hearing what you said, he starts to doubt if he did perhaps made a mistake, leaving regrets behind. After all, you were right. A world were he couldn't embrace you when you were right in front of him was like a living hell.

Imagine the way it was making him wonder if he was only a little bit selfish, if only he did not listen to the pleads of his people, his friends. If only he tried to find another way. If only he choses the other way. Would the two of you be happy and still together like you were back then?

He doesn't know, after all, those were the choices he didn't take. And this was the consequence he had to face.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°

: I think I strayed away from what was asked. Crap, did I do this right?