#and we usually have a good conversation flow so your not repeating yourself all day to different people

[seagull-scribbles]

I don’t want wholesome non binary characters, give them a bomb

Me and my friend are having a debate

[bratkook]

almost. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost, right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, baby angst, smut word count. 6.4k warnings. two idiots!!, pining, masturbation (m. and f.), use of vibrator, accidental voyeurism?,  more feelings come to light!! summary. jungkook tries to be the best wingman he could be in your new venture after your breakup. he could do it, right? note. part two of not yet, some more feelings are exposed, please don’t hate oc she is but a pendeja that doesn’t see the obvious feelings jungkook has but she has good intentions i promise<3 there will most likely be a final part,,if you guys are into it lmao okie bye

The cool summer breeze flows around you as you’re sitting under the shade, eyes focused on the chaos of runny yolk and hashbrowns that is your breakfast. Jungkook on the other hand, is focused on you. His signature yellow shades block out the sun reflecting from passing cars, concealing his eyes just enough for you to not see him blatantly staring at you while you stuff your face. 

The charmed smile he has falters slightly when you look directly at him, hashbrown lingering by your lip as you repeat his name. “Sorry, what?”

Your brows come together as you smile at his zoned out state, something you had grown fond of in the years of knowing him, always enjoying the small dazed look that graced his face whenever he was lost in his thoughts. His lips push out slightly in question, curious eyes wondering just what you could have been asking him. 

“I was saying that I think I’m giving up on crushes and love.” You say it so easily, mind made up as you grin at him before continuing to shovel hashbrowns into your mouth, only pausing to take a sip of your iced coffee. 

Jungkook tries his best to seem unaffected, nodding along in interest as he takes a steady bite of his own food. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking a look around at the people surrounding you: friends having breakfast together and snapping photos, couples feeding each other food with smiles on their faces, a lone man with his dog perched on the seat across from his while he worked on his computer. You briefly wonder if all of them, even the dog, have better luck with love than you do. 

“I think I’m cursed,” you continue. “All of my exes have been assholes, and I’ve always been too blind to see it until it’s over and I’m left crying over Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams.”

“Maybe you’re just looking for love in the wrong places,” Jungkook shrugs, internally screaming because he’s who you should be looking at if you wanted love. 

Not to toot his own horn, but Jungkook liked to think he was a good guy, a great boyfriend even. His previous track record of relationships could attest to that, all of them ending on mutual terms, still friendly and civil with each other. He’s almost certain if there was a Yelp page for him it would be at least 4.5 stars with comments raving about how great he is, even little anecdotal touches about how he always gave away his hoodies or offered to cook breakfast. 

He was a god damn catch, why couldn’t you see that?

“Maybe prince charming is a lot closer than you think,” he grumbles out, stabbing his omelette with a little more force than necessary, fork clanking against the plate. And when you gasp in realization he freezes, slowly looking back up at you and seeing the way your eyes widen. 

“Wait, maybe you’re right!” Your hand shoots across the table, gripping onto his forearm and it sends a shock throughout him, skin tingling at your touch. “You know that coffee shop below our building? That cute barista always puts a heart next to my name. Do you think I should ask for his number?”

Jungkook blinks once, slowly twirls his fork in his hand and blinks again before staring up at the sky, mentally asking why he couldn’t just go out and say it. “Hm, I don’t think you should.“

With a defeated sigh you retract your hand, slumping back into your seat and grabbing your iced coffee once more, stirring the straw and ice around as you nod. “True. What if he feels obligated to give it to me just because he doesn’t want to get fired in case I go all Karen on his ass.”

That wasn’t why Jungkook had said not to, but sure, that works too, so he hums along. 

“I bet he draws hearts on all the other girls cups too.” You huff, playfully wiping a tear under your eye with a smile. 

“I’ve actually—“

“You know what I—“

You both freeze mid sentence, Jungkook’s cheeks tinted a light pink as he stutters on his words, wide eyes staring at you as if he had caught himself before you cut him off. But as you’re about to tell him to go on, he waves you off and urges you to speak first. 

“I was just gonna say that maybe I should go through that wild phase people usually go through after breakups.”

He sets his silverware down on the plate and sips his water, giving you an odd look. “Wild phase? Like you wanna dye your hair red and get bangs?”

“No,” you cackle, ruffling a hand through your own hair as you picture yourself with that combination. “I should just go out and hook up with people. I feel like I’ve either been in a relationship or entirely single, so it could be fun right?”

“Uh, maybe...” he trails off, rolling his lips together in thought, not exactly fond of hearing you say that when he had felt the confession about to roll off his tongue. He takes a slow breath, trying to see this from a neutral point, the point of a supportive friend wanting to help you get over a breakup. 

“How do you go about it?”

“Me?” he chokes, pointing at his chest as if there was magically some other person you could be addressing. 

“Yes, you. Need I remind you, we share a wall between our beds.” You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face shows that you’re speaking of this lightly, not entirely annoyed by the fact that you had heard Jungkook during his own fair share of hook ups. 

He’s not ashamed of it, but considering he never really brought up being able to hear you, he thought you’d pretend to never hear him. It wasn’t too often that he had a girl over, the number of hookups only increasing after you got with Hajoon and loosely cut ties with Jungkook. But from what you had heard—and seen thanks to your nosey self looking through peep holes once they left—it was very rarely the same girl. 

So to you, Jungkook was a pro at the art of hookups. 

“Right, sorry,” he grimaces, a sheepish smile on his lips as he wonders just how many times his activities kept you up at night. 

“It’s fine, consider us even.” A teasing laugh follows your statement, enjoying the flustered look on his face, how his cheeks get even darker in embarrassment. Jungkook was used to the two of you talking like this, neither of you having a filter especially when it came to sexual aspects, but he hadn’t had a conversation like this since before you got with Hajoon. It would take some getting used to again. 

“So, give me the tips. Where do you find people?”

Jungkook leans back into his chair, arms stretching out on either side of him, short sleeves of his black tee bunching up and revealing more of his tattoos and the rippling of his muscles. With a small laugh he rakes his hand through his fluffy hair, giving you a small smile. “Honestly? Anywhere. I’ve gotten girl’s numbers at the gym and at coffee shops, but bars are the best bet for something quick.”

“Ugh, fuck you and your pretty privilege.” 

“What?” he guffaws, smiling wide and showing you his adorable smile as he laughs loudly, not caring about the attention he draws to your table. He doesn’t even realize how the table full of girls is now trying to discreetly stare at him, because his eyes are on you. You see it though, and it further proves your point. “What the hell is pretty privilege?”

Your wild hands gesture towards him, a look of disbelief on your face as you do so. “You! Of course girls line up to hand you their number, have you seen yourself? Pretty privilege,” you jab your fork at him in time with your final words, a smirk on your glossy lips. 

Jungkook feels his confidence grow at your casual compliment, tongue prodding at his cheek as he stares down at his food, trying not to smile too hard. You thought he was pretty, that was a win in his book. 

“C’mon,” he teases, foot gently nudging your leg underneath the table. “You could totally score someone's number. Plus there's always apps if you just wanna test the water.”

You give your plate a contemplated stare, “Sure, how hard could it be?”

Admittedly, the answer to that question was: not hard at all. You had met all your previous boyfriends in person, through mutual friends or shared classes back in college, never once dipping your toe into the world of Tinder or Bumble. Who knew all it would take was a couple of selfies and the strategic body shot to have boys circling around you like some new-age, slightly filthier version of rapunzel. 

Jungkook knew though, not at all shocked by how quickly you get a match the following day when he’s at your place. His eyes are focused on the screen in front of him, helping you beat a level in your favorite game that you had been stuck on. But the second you gasp as if you’ve won the lottery, he pauses the game entirely and gives you an odd look. 

“What?”

His answer comes in the form of your phone thrusted in his direction, lit up screen displaying your profile picture and the one of the boy you had just matched with. Jung Hoseok. Jungkook’s eyes narrow as he reads the name, trying to remember it in case he somehow had a friend in common that knew all the dirt on him. 

He has a similar pair of yellow shades on his own head, thicker black rims around them and a charming smile on his face. Jungkook chuckles to himself. Yellow shades? How original. 

“What do I say?” you question, eyes looking nervous as you wiggle the phone in his face. The small white bar beneath your match urges you to start a conversation, and coming up with the right words to say makes you overthink it all. 

“Just say hi and tack on some cute emoji. It’s not that hard,” he laughs, pushing the phone back at you. Jungkook knew you could start the message off any way you wanted and this Jung Hoseok would eat it right up. How could he not, the alluring smile in your profile photo would draw anyone in. 

“Okay, I did it.” Your phone is instantly locked and chucked aside in an attempt to be forgotten, choosing to grab the remote out of Jungkook’s hands for another distraction. It only lasts a brief second before you’re killed by the boss Jungkook was trying to defeat. 

“Really?” Jungkook huffs, yanking the remote back into his hands, needing a distraction himself. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you were searching for a fuck buddy while he sat beside you. How crazy would it be if he suggested being your fuck buddy, offered to help you through this so called wild phase you were searching for. 

No. That’s not what he wants. 

Would he enjoy it? Sure. But he could already imagine how much worse his heart would hurt if his feelings came to light and yours were non-existent. That is if you’d even agree to it. 

“Relax, he’s probably thinking of what to reply.”

You make a noise of disagreement, fingers itching to unlock your device to see if it was true, slowly inching towards it until you finally grab it and go back onto the app. Jungkook just chuckles as he goes back to helping you with your game, not wanting to look at you as you giggle at your device. He could already imagine what this guy was telling you for you to turn into a giddy mess not even two minutes in. 

He tunes it all out, eyes focused on the screen, fingers gripping the remote with a little more force than needed. His concentration helps him though, finally passing the level you’ve been stuck on for the past two weeks. 

“You’re welcome,” he sighs, making a show of stretching out and sending you a smile, having it falter slightly when he sees your eyes still focused on the screen of your phone. With a frown he looks back at the television, saving the game before turning it off altogether. 

Once he gets up from the couch, making his way over to the media console to store the remotes, is when you look up at him. “You’re right, this is easy!”

Jungkook doesn’t feel the usual pride that comes with being right, but the cheerful look on your face prevents him from feeling salty. Coming back towards the couch, he sits beside you once more, facing you as he rests his elbow on the back cushion to lean on. “Told you so.”

He keeps that same smile on his face as you mention how quick Hoseok was to ask you out on a date, even as you bring up the fact that this date would be at his place, and Jungkook could decipher netflix and chill any way some greasy boy tried to conceal it. 

“I hope he knows I don’t want anything serious,” you mumble, chewing on your fingernail as you scroll through the messages. 

Jungkook could almost laugh at how blissfully unaware you were of the piranha infested water that was the great sea of Tinder. Of course this yellow sunglass wearing wannabe version of him knows you don’t want anything serious, why else would he be so quick to invite you over with the cheeky excuse to watch movies. 

All he can do is shrug as he stares at you, lips pressed together in an effort to not say something that would totally ruin everything. Instead, Jungkook does everything he can to be the best version of a wingman you could get. He tells you the ins and outs of hookups, how you should definitely not text him the minute you leave his place and tell him you had fun, don’t talk about anything super personal involving family or your work, and if he doesn’t offer to go down on you but expects a blowjob he’s a loser. 

It’s solid advice that you mentally jot down, subjecting him to further questions your mind comes up with and even asking him for help on an outfit via text the night of your hangout with Jung Hoseok. 

Jungkook stares at the photos for a little too long if he’s being honest. They weren’t spectacular selfies that you had taken much effort for, their sole purpose being showing off the outfit, but the way you look so focused as you snapped the shot had him zooming into your face and smiling like an idiot. When you double text him with a long line of question marks he snaps out of it, deciding on the second option you picked of mom jeans and a cropped shirt. Cute and casual, and definitely something Jungkook preferred, but he’d never tell you that. 

When you finally text him a thumbs up and tell him you’re on your way out he just hearts the message before locking his device and trudging to the living room. It’s not often that he wallows in self pity, spacing those days out so far he barely remembers them. But they usually went exactly like this, ordering a large meat lovers pizza with extra cheese, drinking far too many Mike’s hard lemonade—because despite how much they made his stomach hurt they were tasty so he didn’t care—and binge watching his comfort show: Modern Family. 

But even as he sulks on his couch, practically sinking into the cushions with horrible posture and a slice of pizza resting on his chest, he can’t find it in himself to chuckle at Cam and Mitch’s usual banter. He’s too busy thinking about which movie you’re currently watching, if you were watching it. Who’s Jungkook kidding though, you were totally getting your guts rearranged right now. 

Taking an aggressive bite out of the crust he frowns and raises the volume up on his television, attempting to drown the mocking voice in his head calling him a loser for not admitting to his feelings. He knew this, knew he should have said something when he wanted to at breakfast, but Jungkook was afraid that if he confessed as you were talking about hooking up, that you’d see him as taking advantage of a situation instead of being genuine. I mean who wouldn’t? You say you want something casual and suddenly he’s spilling his heart out and you’re supposed to believe he’s not some pig trying to butter you up. He didn’t want to get labeled as a creepy neighbor after the good times you’ve had. 

“So stupid,” he grumbles to himself as he takes another swig, the last drops of the alcohol hitting his tongue with a tangy aftertaste. As he sits up to place the empty bottle onto his coffee table his muscles ache, neck stiff from the unfortunate position it had been subjected to for the last three hours. With a small huff he’s rolling his shoulders, reaching for his discarded phone to see the time—and also check if you’d sent him some SOS text—but he finds nothing besides the bright numbers indicating that it was nearing midnight.

In true pity party day fashion, he doesn’t even bother cleaning up after his mess, just tossing the dirty dishes into the sink to be washed tomorrow when he would force himself to be in a better mood. Instead, he grabs a water and his phone and waddles into his bedroom. 

The moonlight illuminates the space enough for him to keep the light switch off, undressing from his crumb covered sweats and shirt, choosing to remain in his boxers as he slipped under the cold duvet. The sheets feel fresh against his hot cheeks, flush from the alcohol, cooling him down and making his body relax. 

Jungkook knows he should sleep, needing to be up early tomorrow for work, but he can’t stop his mind from wandering into dangerous territory. His buzzed brain has no qualms imagining exactly what you were doing right now, wondering if you’d be the type to act shy at a guy’s house for the first time, if you’d initiate the first move or not. Jungkook had only seen it up close once under the flash of strobe lights and the haze of alcohol, but he can still picture the soft smile on your face before you go in for a kiss, and he grumbles under his breath when he realizes that he wouldn’t be the one kissing you tonight. 

What he doesn’t know, is that you wouldn’t be the one getting kissed tonight either. The Jung Hoseok you had perceived through Tinder, assuming he was all casual and DTF with his netflix and chill suggestion, had been anything but. What you thought would be a steamy night, ended up becoming a nice dinner and comedy watched, morphing into some version of game night where you discovered he was a little too competitive than you were used to. The only action you got was a kiss to your cheek as he walked you to your car and a promise for another date. A promise you would not be keeping. 

So as Jungkook lays in bed while his thoughts turn into some fantasy of you moaning out his name, you shuffle into your bedroom and slip into your pajamas with a defeated sigh. You had already texted your best friend telling her what a bust tonight had been, deciding to just tell Jungkook all about it tomorrow because you knew he was most likely fast asleep now. And as you settle under your own covers, inches away from Jungkook with only a wall seperating you, you decide to just call it a night and pretend it never happened. 

Just as you shut your eyes, nuzzling into your pillow, you hear the first moan come from behind the wall. A small cry of despair escapes you as you bury your face into your sheets, tugging them up and over your head to block the sound of Jungkook getting some action the same night you had been left high and dry. Of course he would, assuming you’d be getting the same treatment at your date's place, why wouldn’t he take advantage of your absence and not have to muffle his partner’s moans the way he usually did. 

You’re just going to ignore it, until you hear a moan that sounds strangely like your own name. Maybe it's wishful thinking on your part, your horny brain deciding to pretend that Jungkook was calling for you instead of whoever he was with. It might be a little wrong for you to have that fantasy of your neighbor, but you aren’t blind. He’s hot, and adorably sweet, the perfect package for any girl he tried to swoon. And judging by the cries you’ve heard of lucky girls prior, you know he was good in bed. 

You’re just desperate now. That’s the excuse you tell yourself as you slowly settle onto your back, feeling your body warm up when you focus on his muffled groans, desperate and needy. As your hand slowly slides down your shirt, you shut your eyes, biting down onto your lip to muffle any sound you could make when your fingers slip underneath your pants and past your underwear. 

Jungkook on the other hand doesn’t care about his volume. His boxers are tugged down his thighs, knees bent as he slowly ruts into his sticky palm. His hand is tacky with the lube he had messily squirted on, thick cock glistening in the light coming in from his window. He can’t look away from it, mouth dropped open as he groans, imagining it was your hand tightly wrapped around him, your spit covering his cock instead of that strawberry flavored lube. 

“Ah fuck,” he moans, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back onto his soft pillows when his thumb rubs along his slit. It continues to leak beads of precum, quickly wiped away to join the mess on his cock when his hand slides back down and squeezes along his base. 

You hear that loud and clear, and when the female voice you’re expecting never follows, you realize he must be taking care of himself. It makes you feel a little less guilty now as your fingers trail along your slit, collecting the slick coating your folds before you softly circle your clit. A choked gasp fills the air at the small sensation, your body already wired after having expected to get some action tonight; it totally had nothing to do with your hot neighbor jacking off inches away from you. 

With your eyes fluttering shut, you strain your ears to make out any other noise, muffling your own groans with a hand pressed against your mouth. The bed creaks lightly underneath you as you roll your hips into your hand, getting into a smooth rhythm that makes your body buzz. 

Slowly, your imagination runs wild, and you wonder just what Jungkook was thinking of as he did this. Was he watching some porn as he did it, using his own filthy thoughts to push himself to ecstacy, or was this just something he needed to do to be able to sleep? 

“Shit, so good,” he groans out, voice raspy, but you can sense his desperation through the drywall. It’s what has you sinking a single digit into your drenched entrance, biting down onto your lower lip when you feel the glide of your walls as you start to thrust into yourself, easing in another and mewling at the slight stretch. 

Jungkook would absolutely give his left leg to know what your pussy felt like, he didn’t even care how disgusting he sounded by admitting that to himself, it was true. Blame it on the hard lemonade that made his stomach ache and his mind unfiltered, but he could almost visualize how you’d look above him, could practically feel the warmth of your core wrapped around him, dripping down his length as he fucked into you. 

He knows you’re loud in bed, never being one to conceal your cries of pleasure and he would die happy to hear his name come out of your mouth as you creamed his cock. But for now, his hand would have to do. 

His lids feel too heavy, jaw slack as the pleasure flows through his body. The wet squelch of his palm fills the room, mingling with his pants and groans, air growing thick around him. It’s been a while since Jungkook had jacked off, and even longer since he’d been able to do it shamelessly in bed without the fear of you hearing him, but now that he thought you were gone he can’t find it in himself to cover his mouth or groan into his pillows like he usually did. 

The pent up frustration fogs up his mind, cranks the lust up to 11 until his free hand is gripping his sheets beside him, bed frame creaking as his thrusts speed up. The thuds of his headboard hitting the wall come from behind you, a choked moan blending in with it, and it has you scrambling for your bedside drawer. 

The pajamas you wear get yanked off your legs and tossed aside after you grab your trusty vibrator, settling onto your back once more with huff. All it takes is a press of a button for the device to come to life, buzzing in your hand as you trail it up your thighs. A gasp escapes you when you pass it over your mound, brushing against your clit and sending a jolt of pleasure through you. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper when you finally press the vibrating head directly onto your sensitive clit, legs spreading further apart as you increase the intensity. You could clearly hear the raise in Jungkook’s moans, and that's when the first irrational thought pops into your mind. 

How easy would it be for you to head over to his place and deal with both of your problems. Surely Jungkook wouldn’t have an issue with you offering to suck his dick, wouldn’t mind letting you sink down onto him if it was just a friendly favor. 

The little devil on your shoulder tells you it would be mutually beneficial, urging you to get up and walk to Jungkook’s with the vibrator still in your hand, but you can’t. This alone felt like enough of a dirty secret, a secret you’d have absolutely no problem keeping because although you feel slightly ashamed, you couldn’t deny how turned on you are. 

The flashes of all the times you’ve heard Jungkook with other people play in your mind, the screams of his name that he tried to muffle, pleas for him to go faster, the resounding smack of his palm on flesh that always left you wide eyed when you heard it. And you start to wonder if maybe you’d be into that, the feeling of his large tattooed hand connecting with your ass, gently tapping against your cheek for you to open up for his cock. 

That fantasy is like the first ember needed to start the fire inside of you, spreading uncontrollably until you’re bucking into your vibrator, teeth biting down on your lip to keep any potential moans of his name from slipping out. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he chants, the same fire burning within him. Maybe your minds are linked telepathically, his thoughts gravitating to the same filthy fantasy you had. Jungkook was very much an ass man, knowing very well how good your butt looked in jeans from how often he stared at it, he could only imagine how good it would look as he fucked you from behind. Picturing the way it would bounce back from the force of his thrusts, eyes glued to the way you’d soak his cock, mimicking the tightness of your walls with a firm grip of his palm. 

Jungkook can sense his orgasm approaching, leaves his chest feeling tight as he pants, legs gliding along his sheets for leverage to continue fucking into his hand. You’re not far off either, vibrator set to the highest setting you can practically feel your bones rattling, free hand slipped under your shirt as you pinch at your pebbled nipples. You’re both on the brink of falling over the edge, the same question playing in your mind: where would you want Jungkook to cum?

As his moans get breathier, whiny in a way you’d never imagine them to be, you mentally decide that you’d want him to cum inside of you, wanting to see the way his cute face would twist up in pleasure as he filled you up. Jungkook hopes you would, throwing all responsible thinking aside for that sweet moment of ecstasy and the mental picture is enough to finally push him over. 

“Ah shit, baby,” he cries out in his room—thankfully having half the mind to not cry out your name as he came—eyes rolling back as his cock twitches in his palm, ribbons of cum splashing onto his stomach and chest. The warmth hits his skin, more droplets continuing to leak out as his palm milks his orgasm, stomach hiccuping and back arching from the stimulation. 

The choked moan is what has your own orgasm washing over you, your palm slapping over your mouth so hard you know you’ll feel the ache later but you don’t care. A muffled gasp blends with the buzzing of your toy, thighs tensing up as your body tingles and writhes around on your sheets. 

The only thing you can think of is Jungkook, the charming smile he’d give you when he listened to you rant about anything, his annoying habit of rolling up his sleeves to show off his muscles, the cute scowl on his face whenever you managed to beat him at Mario Kart, and the soft feeling of his alcohol coated lips on yours. It leaves you feeling warm as your orgasm flows through you, lying limp on the bed as you mewl at the sensitivity. 

When you realize your thoughts have strayed from ‘pure sexy Jungkook fantasyland’, and switched over to ‘Jeon Jungkook your adorable neighbor’, your eyes go wide, finger immediately going to turn off the vibrator. In your haste to shut it off, you click the wrong button, changing the pulsing settings and nearly screaming when the device starts to buzz erratically against your overly sensitive clit. 

With a strained gasp you yank it away from yourself, turn it off and throw it aside, horribly miscalculating the size of your bed and watching in horror as it lands on the floor with a loud thud. The complete silence from both sides makes the noise sound deafening, and all you can do is sit on your bed, half naked, and hope Jungkook is still too busy basking in his post orgasm bliss to hear the bang. 

Although the blood is still pumping in his ears, he heard the thud clearly. His heart stops in his chest as he lays there, too scared to breathe in case he’d somehow make too much noise, suddenly afraid of being too loud after he had just made a show of himself. Jungkook slowly sits himself up, grimacing at the stickiness on his stomach before pressing his ear against his headboard to try to hear anything else. 

All you want to do is yank the covers over yourself and go to sleep, pretend your horrendous date and your dirty thoughts about your friend never happened. The sobering mentality that comes after an orgasm settles into you, leaving you staring at the floor with a crease between your brows as you wonder what the hell came over you. 

When Jungkook hears nothing else, he sighs in relief, hauling himself out of bed to grab another pair of underwear before entering his bathroom to clean up. As he stares at his own reflection in the mirror, he frowns at how pathetic he feels. The throbbing headache of his earlier drinks is already starting to kick in, body now sweaty from exertion, stomach covered in his cum. 

“Such a loser,” he grumbles out, grabbing a wad of tissues to wipe away the mess on his skin before walking back out. Here he was, getting off to the thought of you, while you were out having your post-breakup wild phase. 

His hands grab his phone as he reaches his nightstand, flopping back onto the bed and unlocking the device. It’s now one in the morning, and you still hadn’t text him, which either meant you were having the time of your life, or Jungkook had to track down this Jung Hoseok. The slightly protective side of him won’t allow him to sleep until he hears back from you, fingers already typing out a message and hitting send. 

Jungkook 1:23am : you safe or am i gonna have to go all Liam Neeson on this guy?

When your phone vibrates on your nightstand you gasp, grabbing it before it could make any more noise. Seeing Jungkook’s name flash on the screen makes your blood run cold, already imagining what the text could be: calling you dirty for getting off on him, making fun of you, telling you to come ove—no stop that. 

Finally mustering up the courage, you open it up, a small laugh spilling out as you read his message, relief flooding through you as you realize that meant he thought you were still with Hoseok. 

Y/N 1:26am : oh yeah, you gonna show him your very particular set of skills? lol

Y/N 1:26am : i just got home though

Y/N 1:26am : like right now

Y/N 1:26am : still sitting in my living room

Y/N 1:27am : haha

He laughs at your string of texts, something you hear as he settles into bed. Jungkook ebbs away the small feeling of jealousy in his chest, trying to see the silver lining of this. You weren’t rushing to tell him anything about your date which meant it either went so good you wanted to keep it to yourself, or it was subpar and you wouldn’t be seeing this yellow sunglass wearing copycat again. 

Jungkook 1:29am : glad you got home safe, goodnight y/n!

Sending back a goodnight text, you lock your phone and slide deeper into bed, pulling the sheets up to your chin as you stare at the ceiling. You already know the only thing you’ll be dreaming about is your cute neighbor with a bunny smile and body proportions that contradicted it. And as Jungkook lays in bed, wondering if he’ll have to push the crush aside, you’re barely coming to terms with the fact that the small glowing feeling that came with being around him might be something else. 

Every single one of your interactions gets rewinded and played back like a seamless montage, remembering just how many almost moments there was between you. The way his eyes would flash down to your lips whenever you playfully argued on your couch, hands yanking the remotes from his in a game of tug of war that left you way too close in the heat of the moment. How he’d let you braid his hair anytime you found a new youtube tutorial, his starry eyes staring at you with so much adoration it made your stomach flip, brushing it off as love for a friend. 

Then came the jokes from your friends, constantly teasing you about Jungkook, playfully saying they would try to sleep with him just because they liked the scowl on your face, and how quickly you tried to play it off. How the sweet old lady from the convenience store downstairs always assumed you were dating when you came in together, the low jab she sent when you walked in with Hajoon and she said she preferred you with Jungkook. That argument had been one of the ones that left him bolting out of your apartment with a nasty slam of the door, spewing nasty words at you, calling you blind for not seeing it and dumb for acting like you had no idea what he was talking about. 

And for the first time, you come to the sudden realization that Hajoon was right. His deep set insecurities about Jungkook had stemmed from scraps of the truth, not just from him but from you too. The amount of times you’d find a way to slide Jungkook’s name into a conversation about anything, telling him funny stories about him, too lost in thought to see that while you were giggling as you reminisce, he was staring at you in disbelief. 

The final thought that makes you want a blackhole to swallow you up, comes in the form of you, grabbing Jungkook’s face before planting a kiss on his unsuspecting lips at the club. You want to scream into your pillow as you recall it, how he had almost leaned back in to kiss you again before you had sobered him up with your dumb question rooted in revenge. 

“Oh my god, I’m such a bitch.” you whimper. Subjecting Jungkook to be your wingman, jokingly telling him he should be your fake boyfriend more often, asking him for tips with hook ups. If everyone else could see it but you, he probably thought you were purposely friendzoning him. 

The guilt piles on top of you as you start to piece together every moment that flew over your head, only making you bury yourself deeper into your sheets. It makes your heart twist, taking note of how Jungkook was always so quick to put a smile on his face despite how naive you were to it all, wondering if maybe it was too late to try to make something of this now. How many times could you call Jungkook ‘bro’ and treat him like you didn’t see him romantically, before he decided there was no hope for him anymore. 

So as you force yourself to sleep, nerves and uncertainty weighing heavy on your mind, Jungkook snores away as he dreams of the almost moments that could have been.

[farfarawayinthelandof]

Hi! I saw you don’t have any miraculous stuff yet. Can I request a Marinette x f! reader. Reader is new to the school and quickly becomes her friend and Marinette doesn’t know how to react when she finds out reader has a crush on her. She realizes that she fell for reader while she was hanging out with Adrian. Please.

MARINETTE X FEM!READER ONESHOT

Thank you so much for your request(s)! I absolutely love this one.

fem!reader

warnings: none!

ੈ♡˳·˖✶

As the students of Francoise Dupont got into the routine of the new school year, there was a last minute transfer. That transfer being you, Y/N. You were full of excitement and nerves to finally be starting at a new school, thrilled to meet new friends, but also nervous, for fear of being left out. Your fears has faded away, however, when you met your new classmates, especially her.

Her being Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the class president tasked with showing you around for the day. She had a creative and talented personality, and a helping attitude, and every task, favor, and assignment never seemed to be a problem, or worry for her. You weren't sure if you wanted to be her, or with her.

By lunchtime, you had figured you wanted to be with her. You had also figured that half the class felt the same way, how could they not?

As you walked to the restroom at the end of lunch with Alya and Rose, about a week after you had first been introduced, they struck up a conversation about Marinette.

"You and Marinette are getting close? Should I have to watch my back so you don't replace me as her BFF?" Alya asks, with a light tone. Rose laughs.

You inhale sharply. "No! No, it's not like that! I would never! I-"

"Girl, relax." Alya laughs. You ease up a little bit. "I'm just teasing you. All the girls in our class are tight."

"Oh! That's nice to hear! I hope we can all be great friends."

Rose and Alya nod. "But anyway, about Marinette. You like her, don't you?" Rose asks.

'Was it that obvious?' You think woefully.

"I guess. But I know she likes Adrien." There was no point in hiding it. You trusted the two girls, and it was just a little crush.

Rose opens the door to the bathroom, holding it for you and Alya. As you thank the blonde, Alya speaks up. "I what it feels like to like someone who doesn't like you back. Nino used to have a crush on Marinette. Come to think of it, pretty much everyone in our class has had a crush on her at one point or another." Rose nods, laughing as she sprays some perfume on herself.

"Adrien?" You ask.

"That boy is absolutely clueless. His skull is *ahem* very thick. He's so dumb, for someone so smart." Alya says.

Rose agrees thoughtfully.

After your conversation with Alya and Rose, you return to your seat with newfound hope. Marinette must know Adrien is hopeless. Feeling bold, you come up with a plan.

ੈ♡˳·˖✶

Marinette had only known you for a few weeks, however, she had already felt a connection with you. She was really looking forward to becoming better friends.

On another note, Marinette had also made plans with Adrien later in the day. She had been looking forward to this project ever since she had been paired up with the young model.

Stopping at her locker, she noticed you walking towards her. You looked nervous. Had you forgotten your locker combination?

“Hey Marinette!” You said, voice masking the uncertainty you felt.

Marinette smiled, turning her attention towards you. “Hi, Y/N!”

“So, um… I was wondering - and I know this might be sudden - but I was wondering if you wanted to go out… together?”

To say Marinette had been taken aback would be an understatement. And while she liked the forwardness, Marinette had to turn you down. Who knows what could happen with Adrien tonight, even if he’s a bit clueless?

“Y/N. Listen, I… Uh, appreciate-”

You sigh. “Let me stop you right there. I understand. Hopefully we can still be good friends.”

Marinette sighed in relief. “Yeah, friends!”

You nodded towards Marinette, signaling goodbye. Well, you tried, right? And they say you miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take.

The ravenette couldn’t help but feel guilty as she walked to Adrien. Why were you the only thing going through her mind when Adrien was right there?

This question had repeated itself throughout Marinette’s head all afternoon.

Until she realized.

Marinette felt a connection with you she never had with anyone else. It was a deep admiration, but not putting you on a pedestal, no. She saw you as real, and attainable. Unlike Adrien.

“Hey, earth to Marinette! You look a bit pale..” Adrien says, confused.

“Heh, sorry Adrien.” How was she supposed to face you tomorrow? Somehow, Marinette knew she blew it.

‘Oh, I’m no good at love!’ Thought Marinette, woefully.

The next day, you greeted Marinette as usual. But she couldn’t help but want more. And you couldn’t, either. But what were you two to do? Wasn’t any chance you two would ever be together destroyed?

After school, it had begun to rain. You sighed in defeat. You didn’t have an umbrella, and your parent(s) were at work. There was no one to help you. You tried to ask Alya or Nino for a ride, but they already left before you could.

Damn.

“Hey, Y/N?” Said a timid voice.

You turned to find Marinette, sheltered by the school’s roof, standing behind you.

“Hi, Marinette!” You say cheerfully. You are doing your best to make sure that your confession doesn’t get in the way between you two.

“If you don’t have an umbrella, you can use mine” She said, smiling nervously.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. My parent(s) will be off soon, I can wait for them.”

“Please… or at least walk back to my house until you can get picked up.”

You struggle for a bit. That did sound like a good deal. Plus, you could show Marinette that you could be friends and not make it weird.

“Alright,” you say.

“Perfect!”

You and Marinette begin walking to her house, talking about all sorts of things, like new video games, the best ways to bake cookies, and current fashion trends. The conversation flows naturally, never leaving an awkward moment between the two of you.

Marinette now knew 100% that it was you, not Adrien that she liked. Everything with him felt forced, but with you, it was all natural, and so fun.

You both walked into the bakery, Marinette holding the door out for you while you walked in. You greeted Marinette’s parents having already met Tom at a school function.

Marinette walks you to her room where you both spend the afternoon playing video games and procrastinating homework.

It gets a little quiet after Marinette wins the match for the hundredth time, and she looks over to you.

“I’m… sorry. I hope my rejection didn’t make things awkward for us.”

You smiled, albeit fake, reassuringly. “No, no! It’s totally fine.” Not really sure what else to say, you stop there.

Marinette looks down at her hands. “The thing is, yesterday… when I was at Adrien’s house, I realized that I…”

Your internal dialogue was going crazy. ‘Oh my gosh, does she not want to be friends?! Doesn’t she want to be more than friends?! Please, spill it out!’

“… I really like you” Marinette finished.

Your head spins suddenly to face Marinette, giving you whiplash. You cannot believe what you just heard.

“You… do?” To be honest, you weren’t even 100% sure she liked girls.

Marinette nods.

But now… everything has changed. You smile to yourself.

“Cool”

“Cool?!”

“Yeah,” You say. “Let’s go out. Right now.”

“Right now?!”

“Yes!”

Grabbing your shoes in coat, with Marinette en suite, she grabs the black umbrella, and you both bid goodbye to her parents.

“Alright, where to first?” You ask her, laughing.

“I think I know just the place.”

“Well then, please,” you gesture your hand out to her. She grabs it. “Lead the way.”

I tried to not make this too long/dialogue heavy. I hope you liked it!

no beta, we're dying like men

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 3)

Summary: Reader earns her nickname, and Spencer sinks to a new level of sin. A/N: Here, take your first dose of smut 💊 ✨ Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Drinking, alcohol, masturbation (male) Word Count: 5.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

If I had to pick my favorite thing about working for Spencer Reid, it would probably be something that most people wouldn’t expect. Sure, it was nice to be able to work with a human encyclopedia, and he was definitely very nice to look at, but neither of those things contributed to my love for my job.

It was the sense of belonging. An overwhelming feeling of serenity that existed, flowing freely beneath the surface like a network of roots twined together. I never felt out of place when I was with Spencer — which couldn’t be said for basically any other time. Especially not now.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays because it’s just absurd. You harass your neighbors while dressed in a costume and they reward you with something sweet (or, in some cases, change). As I’ve grown older, not much has changed aside from the creativity and length of the costumes.

... and the sweet treats being replaced by the bitter sting of alcohol.

“You do realize that guy was hitting on you in there, right?” my friend shouted from less than a foot to my right.

“He was just being nice.”

“Yeah... in a bar,” another girl chimed in, “On Halloween.”

I tried to remember the face of the man they were talking about, but my memory of his eyes blended into the flashing lights of the club. Even if I wasn’t drunk, I knew it would have been hard to remember him. Because the truth was that he wasn’t the person I wanted to see when I closed my eyes.  

“Leave her alone. She’s trying to stay pure for her professor,” my friend snickered.

Despite the treachery, I still caught her before she almost pushed us both straight off the curb in her drunken state. But it wasn’t her opinion I was worried about, because at that point, I was certain she would remember none of it by the time class rolled around come Monday. It was our other acquaintance that I responded to, with a very squeaky and unreliable, “I am not doing that!”

“Yeah, what she wants isn’t pure at all,” the mess on my shoulder droned. That was enough of a reason for me to drop her, although it really resulted in both of us barely staying on our feet on the somewhat crowded sidewalk.

“Stop! It’s not like that!”

“Sure it’s not.”

Then, something else caught her attention. Knowing her, I figured that it was either a man in a scandalous costume, or it was a two for one drink deal plastered in front of a bar. I assumed it was the latter, because as soon as she finished talking, she grabbed hold of our hands and yanked us against the brick wall of the next bar.

“So you wouldn’t mind if, theoretically, Professor Reid saw you in your costume?” she asked.

I like to think that I am a relatively smart girl. After all, I had made my way to graduate school, and Spencer seemed to think that I wasn’t a complete hopeless idiot. But in that moment, I couldn’t understand why on earth she would ever think to ask me that.

Running my hands over the fuzzy pink bodysuit I was wearing, I tried to picture his reaction. As soon as I tried to look down, however, the two floppy bunny ears affixed to the hood dropped over my eyes.

“I-I mean, I guess not…?” I mumbled, my face growing hot from something other than the alcohol, “I’m wearing it in public, so...”

But then she said it — the most terrifying two words I’d ever heard in my life.

“Okay ­– good.”

My eyes shot up immediately, trying to follow her eyes through the crowd of drunk, costumed people. By the time that I spotted him, somewhat thankfully dressed in normal clothes, I was powerless to stop it.

“Dr. Reid!” My friend’s voice rang out into the night, “Dr. Reid, come over here!”

The moment our eyes met, I knew I was fucked. Totally, completely, and utterly fucked. A clever little grin filled his cheeks as he quickly spotted me trying to hide under my hood.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shrieked, but he was already on his way over.

“You said you didn’t mind!”

In a panicked whisper, I bit back, “I didn’t say call him over here!”

When he grew closer, though, I corrected myself. Because it was not just Spencer who was walking over. There was someone else with him. Another man, just as tall and just as beautiful as Spencer, but with a dark complexion and an even more wicked smile.

As for my company, they had already scattered into the bar behind me, leaving me with a wordless, dumbstruck look on my face that was very poorly hidden behind bunny ears.

“H-hey Prof— Dr. Reid,” I managed to get out.  

“Hey,” he answered in a tone I’d never heard before. A slightly guarded, very entertained but mostly awkward stretch of the vowel.

The man beside him, however, was quick to question.

“Who’s this?”

As I said before, I like to consider myself a relatively bright person. But the alcohol that night had been both free and strong. So, when I was asked by a handsome man who I was on the Devil’s night, I answered honestly.

“I’m a bunny!” I cried, bringing my hands together over my chest and turning to present the small pink pompom affixed to my lower back.

“I can see that,” the stranger replied through a genuine chuckle. But while the action was amusing to at least two of us in the conversation, Spencer looked mortified. It wasn’t necessarily negative, though.

I couldn’t be sure, of course, considering that I had already consumed more liquor that night than I had in the past month, but something told me that Spencer was less humiliated by me, and more worried about how blatant his response to my answer was. Because when he spoke, he did so through a smile.

“She’s uh... my teaching assistant.”

“Teaching assistant, huh?” his friend repeated, clearly amused.

There was almost a challenge to the title. Something about the way he said it setting my heart into overdrive. Unable to control my own treacherous tongue, I continued to dig myself a wonderfully sized hole to jump in to.

“I’m also very good at hopping,” I said.  

Once again, the better company of the two laughed. Spencer, however, covered his smile with a hand that brought attention to just how red his face had grown over the course of a few seconds. I was so distracted by it, lost in the way I could still see upturned lips just from his eye shape alone, that I failed to acknowledge the other man for a suspicious length of time.

“Well hey, don’t let me get in the way of you two catching up. Reid, I’ll go tell the hostess we’re here, so the others know where to go.”

With a firm pat on the shoulder, the man almost turned to walk away. But before he could, I drew him back again.

“Ooh, is there a party?”

Spencer, finally able to speak again, rushed his reply.

“No, it’s nothing.”

It was obviously not nothing, though. Judging by the toothy grin that his friend flashed, it was a very big not-nothing.

“Did he not tell you?” he asked with an incredulous, mischievous tone, “It’s his birthday.”

And it was, by far, the most insulting, scandalous news I’d heard that night. Enough to elicit a sharp gasp and hand reaching out to grab his wrist in a way I knew I shouldn’t have.

“You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday!”

My mind was racing, kicking myself for having not figured it out sooner. I was trying to recall the monthly staff newsletter, but then quickly remembered that I usually relied on Spencer to summarize them for me.

“It’s not my birthday,” he explained with a sigh, “It was a few days ago.”

His friend seemed pleased by my response, although he clearly saw it dwindling. My heels had already dropped back down with my hands that fell away, signaling a very different emotion than the excitement from seconds prior.

“We’re meeting up with some people for drinks and dinner. You want to come?” he asked, trying to convince me before it was too late.

But the moment had passed, replaced by loud, insecure ranting that insisted that Spencer wouldn’t have avoided telling me his birthday unless he didn’t want me to know. That meant he either didn’t enjoy making a fuss out of his birthday, or he didn’t want me to, specifically.

“Uhh...”

“Don’t answer that,” Spencer cut in, swiftly raising a hand to dismiss the other man whose name I finally learned. “Thanks Derek, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Suit yourself,” he mumbled back. But Derek, in all of his disappointment, didn’t fail to draw out one more flustered laugh from the two of us who remained as he gave a tiny half-wave and sang, “Goodbye, Bunny.”

Spencer’s neck craned back, never once leaving his friend until he had safely entered the restaurant. Once he was sure that he was safe from ridicule, or at least observation, his entire demeanor changed.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offered, but I couldn’t accept. If anyone had been a bother here, it was me (and my friends).

“No, I’m sorry I bothered you!” I rushed.

The silence stretched between us, an unsettling reminder that we rarely interacted outside of work. That he’d never known me to party, and I’d never thought of him doing something as routine and normal as celebrating a birthday. It shouldn’t have been strange, but it was.

Perhaps that feeling was what drove me to continue, proudly stating, “I promise that I will have all your work ready first thing in the morning.”

It wasn’t until Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened in a strange, lopsided grin that I’d realized I made a mistake.

“Um...” he spoke through laughter, “Tomorrow is Saturday.”

“I’m very motivated?”

Thankfully, he saw the humiliation and was happy to offer me a graceful escape from my humiliation. “How about I give you until Tuesday, instead?”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best, huh?”

I gladly took it, staring down at my heels as I tried to find anything else to focus on. Anything that wasn’t his eyes that seemed even more powerful after dark. But true to the magnetism I always experienced in his vicinity, I was drawn back into golden irises full of an emotion that made my heart beat twice as hard.

“Where did your friends go?” he asked. I didn’t trust myself to answer, so I just threw my thumb over my shoulder and towards the bar behind me. I didn’t turn away from him then, too scared to acknowledge that I would be leaving him soon. That we would go our separate ways again and I would have to wait until Tuesday to drown in the honey of his eyes again.  

Sure enough, Spencer gave a solemn nod and cleared his throat before mumbling, “Right. You should probably go find them, so they don’t get worried.”

But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with him, the rest of the world be damned. I wanted to feel his eyes on me longer, especially when they started to wander my figure that I’d secretly hoped he would see.

I could pretend to hate my friend for calling him over all I wanted, but when I slipped into the costume hours earlier, I’d wondered what he would do if he saw me like this. And now that the answer was in front of me, torn between the exposed skin of my thighs and chest, I wanted to experience it for as long as possible.

With my fingers on the zipper to try and calm my heart, the inebriation manifested in soft giggles as I replied, “I think I’m pretty safe with you, Professor.”  

Spencer didn’t need to vocalize his disagreement. I saw his contention in the form of wayward eyes falling to my hands that fiddled with the tiny piece of plastic keeping me covered. When they trailed back up the zipper teeth to meet my eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that took my breath away.

Unfortunately for us, though, our smitten haze wasn’t shared by anyone else in the vicinity. Especially not the drunk pack of men who passed, completely unaware of the amount of space they took up on the sidewalk. I don’t even remember one of them running into me, but I definitely remembered what followed in extreme, vivid detail.

Spencer caught me, quickly and more gracefully than I thought him capable of moving. His arms were locked around me, not only preventing me from face planting on the concrete but causing me to press my face directly against him.

Before he had a chance to say or do much of anything else, I placed my hands on his chest and tore myself away from the warmth of his embrace. Because I was already drunk enough on the alcohol — I didn’t need to be any more inebriated from him.

“S-See? You caught me!” I squeaked.

I didn’t miss the fact his hands stayed on my waist even with the added distance, his fingers subtly digging into and stroking the plush fabric. I didn’t try to stop them, either.

“Are you going to be okay? Should I take you home?”

I knew it wasn’t how he’d meant it, but my inner voice still pleaded, Yes, God, please, yes! My outer voice, however, clung to reason and respectability.

“No! Don’t miss your birthday dinner!” I insisted, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, seriously. I just suck at walking in heels.”

Any part of me that would have normally been offended by his insistence that I couldn’t handle myself while drinking was quelled by my desire to keep his hands on me as long as possible. Although there was enough space for my arms between our chests, I swore I felt his fluttering heartbeat against my fingers. I thought of hummingbirds.

Resigned to my stubbornness, Spencer took a moment longer to stroke patterns through the pink fabric wrapped around my waist before he sighed, “If you say so.”

“I do!” I giggled, leaning closer like I might convince him not to leave at all, “So you better listen up, mister Professor man.”

The look he gave me was sweet, honeyed bliss. But even that seemed minuscule in comparison to the way his hands slid over my sides, making their way over my shoulders and gently brushing the errant bunny ears back out of my face. He left them there, too, with a barely-there caress of my face.

“You look cute,” he said, like it wouldn’t break my heart.  

Shier than he’d ever seen me before, I somehow managed to still look him in the eye as I answered, “So do you.”

It was a good thing I’d been paying attention, too. If I hadn’t been staring into his eyes, I would have missed the flash of chaotic playfulness that appeared just as he glanced down at the space between our chests.

I wouldn’t have been prepared at all when he dropped one of his hands from my face to the zipper of my costume. Not to say that anything could have prepared me for the way it felt to have his knuckle brush against the skin just below the lace bralette that had been meant to protect my modesty.

Before I could even comprehend the delicious friction of our skin, it was gone. Spencer pulled the zipper up to my chin, releasing the plastic in favor of grabbing hold of my chin once more.

“Be careful with that zipper,” he instructed, “I don’t need you getting hypothermia this early in the semester.”

Unsure of how else to respond, my body responded on instinct as it stammered, “I-I promise.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, and my autopilot continued.

“Double promise. Promise squared.”

“Okay. You have my number so... call me if you need anything.”

I absently nodded, but Spencer accurately concluded that I hadn’t actually processed what he’d said. When he let go of me, he took the time to smooth out the bunched up fabric over my shoulders. I tried to convince myself that he was just interested in the soft fluff, but it was hard to ignore the hunger that’d only grown stronger. The darkness that rivaled the moonless hallow’s eve.

“I don’t mind giving you a ride home if it means you get back safe,” he said with a deathly seriousness strongly contrasted by the flippancy that followed. “Otherwise I’ll have more work for Tuesday.”

I was grateful for the shift, because it made the loss of his hands hurt less. My chest filled with laughter that quickly burst from me with frantic, messy words.

“Of course! The work. For Tuesday. Okay! Thank you!”

“For what?” he also said through laughter.

“I— don’t know.”

Spencer turned away from me, looking behind him at the obligations that would tear us apart. I wondered if he, too, was busy contemplating how well it suited just how different we were. How two establishments side by side could house such different things. How we were frequenting opposite ends of the spectrum.

Whatever he was thinking about, however, it didn’t break his spirits too badly. Because before he sent me on my merry way, he flashed me the goofiest little bouncing peace sign before he sang, “Hop along, little bunny.”

So I did, turning back to my life and letting him return to his. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes following me until the darkness of the bar swallowed the space between us.

Still, I didn’t need him to be there to remember how it felt for his hands to roam my body like familiar territory. I saw that look in his eyes every time that I closed my own and remembered how it made my legs shake like weak stems bending to the wind.

I decided then that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that he’d seen me in my costume. In fact, I think he quite liked it.

 ——————————————————

 There are few things more relentless than Derek Morgan. Death and taxes, perhaps. When it came to mocking me, there wasn’t a single missed opportunity. Even at the darkest hour, I trusted him to be consistent and predictable.

That was precisely why it made no sense that I had made it through an entire dinner and drinks outing with the team without him mentioning what had happened. Not even once. I almost let myself be relieved. Perhaps time spent with a child that can talk back did him some good, I thought. But when the time finally came for us to take our leave, I realized my mistake. He wasn’t holding back out of the kindness of his heart.

No, Derek wanted to wait until there was no escape route. He wanted to have me trapped in a car hurtling down a highway before he spoke the words that he’d been waiting to say all night.

“So... Bunny.”

“Her name is (y/n),” I quickly corrected. Unfortunately, Derek wasn’t in a merciful mood. Although there was a notable smirk on his face, his next words were uttered with a hefty dose of skepticism. A warning that it was a subject that ought to be approached with a critical sincerity.

“Her name is Trouble. That’s what her name is,” he said, shaking his head.  

“She’s just my teaching assistant,” I said like I might actually convince myself, though we both knew that I wasn’t going to convince him. “It’s fine.”

“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”

But that time, it was me who issued the warning.

“Stop,” I ordered, meeting his eyes to find him hiding his genuine concern under jokes that weren’t really jokes at all. “I respect her. She’s very bright and she earned her position.”

“I never said she didn’t. I know she’s probably smart, but I also saw the way you looked at her.”

The words felt like a blow to the stomach — yet another reminder that my affections for her were so thinly veiled they might as well be scrawled across my skin. He didn’t need to be a profiler to notice that I was fond of the girl, but it certainly made it worse.

Because he knew that I was lying when I muttered, “You don’t need to worry about it.”

He knew that I was lying, but he still asked, “Why’s that?”

“She’s...” I started, pausing while the word tried to form on my tongue. The word that had haunted me ever since those damned girls mentioned it. That short, simple little noun that had taken a cursory affection and turned it into full blown lust.

“She’s a virgin.”

Derek’s brows jumped up his face, his jaw dropping the same way mine had when I first heard the news. Then, just as I had, he put the pieces together and realized that it should have been a foregone conclusion.

“Trouble with a capital everything,” he half laughed.

But this wasn’t a joking matter, and I really wished that I could make him believe that. That definitely wouldn’t happen, though. Not when he looked up to see me hiding behind my hands, sinking into my seat like it would get me out of the conversation.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s obviously waiting.”

It was the wrong thing to say. I should have seen his response coming from a mile away. But I didn’t, and so I was forced to listen to his childish giggles that were followed with an even more lighthearted crooning.

“Yeah, waiting for the right professor to come teach her the lesson on the birds and the bees.”

“Cut it out.”

Without even looking, he astutely observed, “Kid, you’re blushing.”  

“Yeah, because you’re talking about me fuc–”

The word never made it out, getting caught between my teeth as I bit down on my tongue damn near hard enough to make it bleed. I wished it would. I wanted the iron to drown me and rid me of the sinful things it sought to do, instead. Opting for a more… distinguished explanation, I eventually stammered the rest of the thought.

“You’re talking about me... deflowering my significantly younger employee!”

“You can say fuck, Reid,” he deadpanned, “I think you’re old enough now.”

“I don’t want to. It sounds too... crude.”

I didn’t expect him to understand. How could he? He’d only seen her when she was at her most provocative… by far. Part of me envied him, to be able to sequester her innocence and view her as just another girl.

But she wasn’t like anyone else. She was an untouched bloom, a magnolia of unearthly shades. A beautiful blossom that had broken through the concrete walls I’d maintained for so many years. A tantalizing taste of the life outside that I refused to let in.

A fucking tease.

“Too crude for little miss innocent bunny?” Derek cooed, and it was so uncomfortably close to my thoughts that I couldn’t help the way I snapped back.

“Are you done?”

As we pulled into my parking lot, Derek just waved off my hostility, recognizing it as nothing but misfired shame and anguish at the thing I wanted being out of my reach.

“Yeah, I’m done. I hope you had fun, even with the teasing.”

I chose not to dignify the second half of the statement, climbing out of the car like I couldn’t step away from the conversation fast enough. But of course, I knew that only made my guilt more apparent. My culpability was clear and conclusive. There was no argument to be made.

“You know I’m right!” he shouted just before the door shut. A final reminder, one last cautionary call for the beast inside of me to keep itself hidden lest I allow myself to sink my teeth into something pure.

“Goodnight!”

Few things changed when I reached the confines of my apartment walls. Fantasies had only devolved into a vividness that was borderline frightening. How easily I could get lost in visions of her, only promising my return in exchange for my imagination agreeing to become a reality that I would get a chance to experience.

But that wasn’t fair to her. She was just a girl doing her job with an astounding amount of patience and understanding for her hopeless romantic of a boss. For a moment, the guilt became so overwhelming that I let it win. I managed to swallow my newly acquired memories well enough to navigate my nightly routine without wishing she was there every step of the way.

Wishing that she would call me. That she would grant me the excuse to return to her, to touch her as freely as I had earlier. I imagined a world where, upon arriving to her destination, she invited me in.

As I collapsed on my bed, I wondered if she would have preferred the privacy of my home. A place far enough away from other students and academics to finally see me as something more than a superior. Something attainable in a way she never seemed to be.

Just as I closed my eyes to give in to the dreams, my phone buzzed. The sound set off every nerve in my body, all of them very poorly coordinating to allow me to grab the device and turn it on to reveal her name.

“Hey Professor! I just wanted to let you know that I got home…”

I’d never opened a notification so quickly, but I should have waited. I should have paused and taken the time to notice that what I was opening wasn’t just a collection of letters and symbols.

It was a set of pictures.

Pictures of her.

“Safe and sound and zippered up. No hypothermia for this bunny tonight,” she tagged onto the end, “Sweet dreams!”

How could I ever dream of anything but her? How was I meant to turn off my phone now, knowing that she was there; her drunken, lustful stare on display? I only tore my eyes away from her face long enough to notice her surroundings. I took extensive, painstaking notes on the color of the sheets on her bed and the way the zipper I’d tugged at to control myself from taking her had fallen away again.

I could feel the softness of her skin against my knuckle again. I heard the way her breath nearly broke at the force with which she sucked in air at the feeling of me touching her. How hard she pressed herself against me, how her back arched when I held her and how she never even tried to stop my hands from finding new places to rest.

They worked diligently now, too, trying to keep her awake and with me for as long as I could, but also wanting to free myself of obligations so that she wouldn’t notice how long I’d stared at the pictures she’d sent.

“Goodnight, little bunny,” I sent before adding, “I’ll be counting rabbits instead of sheep tonight.”

As if to reward my efforts, another picture flooded my screen. Her face was scrunched up in an adorable innocence, half covered with her hand but still effortlessly beautiful.

I stopped myself from responding again. I forced myself to stop, to prevent treacherous hands from calling her and begging her to let me come to her. It wasn’t fair — it was manipulative, downright evil, even — to take advantage of her inebriated state to hoard any insight she might provide.

But she’d already sent these… So, would it be so wrong to indulge in her? By touching my own body to the thought of her, would I taint her? Did I care even if it did? Maybe it was for the best to plant the seed of impurity now, to strip her of her power over me.

But deep down, I knew that I would still want her. I would still wish that the hand that sneaked beneath the sheets belonged to her. I could almost feel it as my hand traversed familiar territory. It would be new for her, and it would be new for me to feel the delicate, unmarred skin of her palm slowly sliding down my stomach. Her fingers bashfully brushing through soft curls at the base of me, still too nervous to hold me the way I needed her to.

Her face would be buried in my shoulder, with dew from her breath wetting my neck and raising the hairs on my arms. I would take her hand in mine and guide her to wrap her trembling hand around my cock.

Just like I was doing to myself now, with my other hand still holding the phone displaying the image of innocence. My hand wasn’t as soft or inexperienced as hers would be, but as long as my eyes stayed on her half-lidded gaze staring back at me, I could pretend.

I could hear her panting my name— my real name, Spencer— in my ear, praising the feel of silky skin beneath her fingertips. She would whisper about how she wanted to feel it elsewhere, too. She would beg for me to replace a hand for her most precious place.

That damned angelic girl showing her hand on the zipper would beg me to steal away her innocence. She would unveil herself slowly, knowing that I needed the time to memorize every inch of her skin as it was seen by another for the first time. Seen by me, and only me. The vision would be for my consumption and indulgence.

I wanted it. I wanted her.

My stomach tensed as I pictured the girl staring back at me straddling my hips. I stroked myself harder, faster, letting my thumb trace down her body on my screen.

If I stole it from her, would it be mine?

Would she be trapped as I was, only able to feel anything when I was with her? Would she dream of me? Would she cherish each and every memory of my touch and play it back in her mind? When she felt the urge to break and burn, would she picture my hands lighting the match?

If I ruined her, would she be mine?

I pictured the girl on the screen with tears in her eyes, her mouth stuck open in a silent scream and her hands clutching desperately to mine. I imagined how tightly her body would grip me as I fucked her. How hard it would fight the intrusion of my sinful touch. How I would hold her down despite the resistance until she gave in to me. Until I broke her, thoroughly and irreparably.

She would be mine.

That was the thought that took me over the edge, all energy that was not delegated to my hand feverishly stroking my cock remained with my other hand to hold her picture in front of me. It never even wavered, never once shaking and risking losing any clarity. Even my eyes refused to close all the way.

She would be mine.

The warm, sticky mess of my desire coated my hand and stomach, but all I could think was how it would feel to mark her as mine. To feel the excess drip back down my cock as she collapsed against my body. To know that she would never be the same, never be wholly herself again. That she’d let me inside of her soul and that when I left, I hadn’t left empty handed.

She was already mine.

 ——————————————————

| Part Four |

[sunarinluvr]

|| haikyuu boys finding you asleep on the couch after an argument ||

includes: kuroo tetsurou, miya osamu, & oikawa tooru

a/n- hello! sorry for posting so late, but this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and i was actually in the mood to finish it so i hope yall enjoy! oh and im not really sure about how i feel about it,,, might take it down later we shall see.

warnings: none ( lmk if there’s anything! )

KUROO -

last night you saw a post kuroo’s “work wife” had made on instagram with her kissing him on the cheek, and it didn’t make you feel the best, so you decided to bring it up to him the next morning. and you did, just as he was getting ready for work you talked to him about it.

you were standing in front of him filled with anger arguing about how it made you uncomfortable, “can you please listen?! i dont feel comfortable with your “work wife” kissing you?” you yelled. “Y/N it was on the cheek its not a big deal!” and to be honest you just wanted to cry. 

finally, he walked past you and opened the door. “i don’t have time for this y/n, stop being so insecure! at least she wouldn’t argue over something so small!” and with that, he slammed the door and you stood there stunned. kuroo knew that he shouldn’t have said that, instant regret and guilt filled his gut.

 but he already said it, he can’t do anything about it now. with a frustrated sigh, he went to work. hoping to fix everything when he gets home. you stood there speechless, as you realized you still had work so slowly you made your way to the bathroom. 

after getting ready and grabbing a quick snack you were out the door with a heavy chest. once you get home, tired and feeling worse than before. you trudged to the couch and plopped down letting out a shaky sigh remembering the argument and the words he said repeating in your head. 

you broke down crying, and before you knew it, the exhaustion from today took over and you were sound asleep on the couch. kuroo got home an hour later, he felt guilty and was already practicing how he’d apologize to you as he walked in.“y/n? kitten?” no answer. 

he called out again, and was met with silence, he made his way over to the living room where he found you sleeping on the couch. gently walking towards you he knelt down, and saw your tear-stained face which made his heart sink. “i fucked up” he said to himself.

giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead he softly apologized and carried you to the bedroom. you ended up waking up when you felt his body weight dent the bed. “tetsu?” you said softly squinting at him. relief rushes through his body at the sound of his nickname. looking at you with guilt in his eyes

“im so sorry kitten, i shouldn’t have said that. i didn’t mean to hurt you” he said gently. at that tears started flowing again and he was quick to hug you and wipe your tears with his other hand. “it’s ok, i shouldn’t have been so insecure anyways” 

he shook his head with a frown “no it’s not your fault ok? i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you so so much and i’m so lucky that you’re mine” you look up at him and gave him a small smile “okay” before cuddling closer to him. giving you a soft kiss on the lips he hugged you tighter as you both fell asleep.

OSAMU -

osamu was just having a horrible day, his head was pounding and the customers he had to deal with today were just plain rude. then he had to do most of the work since one of his employees called in sick, and for some reason, everything just annoyed him.

you on the other hand did not know about his day at all and thought it would be nice of you to make a surprise visit. walking in with a huge smile on your face stopping midway when you realize he wasn’t at the counter. “where’s samu?” you asked sweetly to the employee

“he’s in the back, i think he has a headache,” she says giving you a small smile. you can tell something was off by the way she spoke but decided to just brush it off and make your way to the back. “hi samu! surprise!” you exclaimed cheerfully as you make your way towards him

he just kind of looks at you, which you thought was weird, but you decided to hug him anyways. when he doesn’t hug you back and groan, you pull away and look at him “baby i heard you had a headache. i didn’t bring any medicine, but we could eat first and i-” 

you couldn’t even finish your sentence since osamu just stood up. he was infuriated and had no clue why, usually loved listening to you but today he was just annoyed. “look y/n a don’t mean ta be rude, but a don't have the energy for this right now. please just go home.” he said coldly staring right at you.

“excuse me? i came here to surprise you and this is what i get??” you said in shock, voice a little louder this time. rolling his eyes “Oh wow am so surprised! now will ya please go home? a don’t wanna argue right now!” he yelled. with tears forming in your eyes you quickly wiped them and left. osamu knew he shouldn’t have said all that, but he was too mad to run after you in front of all the customers. 

you rushed home and sluggishly made your way to your room to change into something comfier, making your way to the couch, curling up into a ball allowing your tears to fall, and somehow falling asleep, after getting tired of crying. he gets home a few hours later, guilt building up in his stomach as he mentally slaps himself for the things he said. 

walking into the living room he opened the lights and you were the first thing he noticed. seeing you curled up into a ball on the couch made his heart drop to his stomach. you on the other hand woke up because of the sudden change of lighting. 

gradually adjusting your sight you see him and switch your gaze onto the floor when you saw him look at you too. seeing your puffy eyes he walks towards you slowly and sits beside you giving you enough space. “am sorry, a shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on ya.”

you look at him with watery eyes and his heart sinks “yea i was just trying to be nice, sorry i didn’t warn you before coming” he opened his arms and you instinctively scooted closer to him, he sighs “no a love it when you surprise me a was jus having a bad day a love ya so much ok?” finally hugging him “okay i love you too” giving you a quick kiss he offered to make you food and of course you said yes.

OIKAWA -

you love oikawa, and you’re very supportive and understanding especially when it comes to his career. but he has an awful habit of overworking himself and as much as you love him you can't bear the fact that you couldn’t even see him anymore.

he goes home late at night -as in you’re already sound asleep late- and when you do stay up to see him, he’s too tired to even keep a conversation. then the next morning he’s gone before you could even wake up. you’ve spoken to him about this many times, but alas nothing changed.

you woke up to an empty bed as usual, but today was different though, you’ve planned a dinner for about 2 weeks now. you were very excited because it’s been so long since you both spent some quality time together and he promised to come home early. 

getting up you send him a little text reminding him of your dinner tonight, with a smile you head on over to the bathroom to get ready for work. once work was over you made a quick visit to the grocery store to buy the ingredients you’ll need to make tonight’s dinner. 

quietly humming to yourself while going through each aisle, and double-checking your list to make sure you’re not missing anything while checking your phone here and there. oikawa still hasn’t replied “he must be busy,” you say to yourself as you send him another text about the dinner just in case. after about 30 minutes you get home rushing since it was already late, and immediately getting started on dinner. 

once you're done you sat down and waited, and waited, and waited. it's been 4 hours. dinners cold and still no sign of your boyfriend. you decided to call him pissed off that he couldn’t even show up to one dinner, “hello? y/n i can't talk right now i still need to practice” 

he said as soon as he picked up. “tooru? did you get my texts? what about dinner, we’ve made plans for this 2 weeks prior! i even-” you were cut off “look just eat without me ok? we can eat again somet-” now it was your turn to cut him off. 

“oikawa tooru, you leave the house while i’m asleep and come back when i'm asleep. i just wanted to spend time with you..whatever good luck at practice,” you replied as you hang up. his heart sank when he heard the crack in your voice rushing to his car on his way home to you because he knows he fucked up. 

buying your favorite flowers for you on the way home cursing himself and the world for making it traffic at that exact moment. when he got home the first thing he saw was the food and you fast asleep on the couch. he felt a pang of guilt about being late. 

“y/n chan?” he said while gently waking you up. you stare at him with red puffy eyes and he hugged you giving you the flowers “im sorry baby, i should’ve prioritized you and our dinner. i promise ill do better” you saw how genuine he was being so you accepted the flowers and hugged him tighter as he offered to reheat the food you made.

reblogs are highly appreciated!

[yunopouts]

touch - l. jeno

hi. i re-wrote it so it's not a virgin!reader anymore. now it's reader finding out jeno is secretly kinky... anyways, sorry about the original, it was dumb of me to even have virgin!reader and breeding kink in the same work :// okay anyways i hope everyone can enjoy this one :)

request:

I just want to preface that none of the gifs i use are mine unless i clearly state so!!

→ pairing: dom!jeno x girlfriend!reader

→ genre: smut

→ warnings: unprotected sex (wrap before you tap children!!), fingering, dirty talk, mirror sex (kinda), rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, corruption kink (kinda,,,)

→ word count: 2.6k

RUN THROUGH: I went through and checked everything from top to bottom. The first part was changed in the conversation, the middle was mostly kept the same, with the exception of some edits here and there. the end was also kept the same, again only a few changes were made.

You walked into your dining room, looking to ask your boyfriend a question. Poking your head out from behind the entry way, you smiled when you saw the blue haired boy sitting at the table staring at his computer. You watched him as he huffed a tired sigh, pushing up the round glasses that had slid down the bridge of his nose. Silently giggling, you straightened yourself out and made your way to the table, sitting in front of him.

“Hi baby.” He grinned at you, his eyes sparkling when they met yours. A shy smile crept on to your lips as you responded with a small 'hi'.

Minutes passed as you watched in silence while the boy switched in between typing on his computer and scribbling into his notebook. His feet tangled with yours when he stretched out his legs, the two of you starting a game of footsies, your giggling voices filling the air around you. Your feet stayed tangled, and your boyfriend started to work again, when your question from earlier popped in your head again. You looked up eagerly, watching him lift his mug to his mouth.

“Hey Jeno,”

“Yes baby?” he replied, not looking up from his work.

“You know we don’t have to be vanilla all the time, right?” you quirked a brow.

The boy choked on his coffee, frantically looking for something to wipe the dripping drink. You handed him a napkin, which he snatched out of your grip and patted his mouth dry, coughing into it. “W-what?” He took his time to slowly recover from the sudden attack. “What are you talking about? I love being v-vanilla.” The way he said it was not convincing at all, so you just blinked at him and bit back a laugh.

“Well, I the other day I was cleaning up the room and when I was organizing the desk the Swiffer hit the mouse and woke up the monitor.” You explained, looking him straight in the eye. “You left that tab open.” You emphasized the word ‘that’ and noticed how the boys body tensed at the word.

A nervous chuckle left his lips, shutting his laptop and dodged your eyes every time you tried to look at him. “Sorry.” He mumbled.

“It was just porn.” You shrugged.

“Y-yeah but it was…” Jeno trailed off, trying to make ends meet. “You know.” Silence settles around you, Jeno’s aura seeming to affect it and make the situation awkward.

“Well, I’m saying that we can do what you want, all you have to do is just ask.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Wait, really?” you thought the hope in his voice made him even cuter than his already nervous self.

“Yes, of course.” You nodded with a slight smile. The boys body noticeably released the tension in his muscles, but he still seemed anxious.

With a huff, Jeno looked back into your eyes, irises darker than usual. “Um, a-alright.” He started, placing his notebook on top of his computer, moving it to the side. “Well, go… do whatever it is you need to do to prepare. Meet me in the room in five minutes.” You nodded, getting out of your chair, and headed to the bathroom. Fixing yourself up, you reassured yourself that your shower from two hours ago still had its effect, and that you were still clean. After that you brushed your teeth, flashing yourself a bright smile in the mirror once you had finished.

In the bedroom, Jeno was sitting on his side of the bed, body as still as a rock. He didn’t notice your entrance, so you waved in front of his face, which got his attention. The boy patted his lap lightly, signaling for you to sit. Complying, you didn’t want to put all your weight when you went down, but his hands shoved you on to him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” The boy glanced up at you with hesitant eyes. Sighing heavily and rolling your eyes, you took the hands that were resting lightly on your back and moved them to your ass. You scoot in closer, his eyes growing wide.

“Jeno, didn’t we just talk about this?” the question was rhetorical, but a blush creeped on to his cheeks, taking a break from your eyes. It took him a few seconds to respond, like he actually had to think about the answer.

“Understood.” His calm voice was different from what his expression said, but your upcoming commentary was forgotten when Jeno placed a hand on your neck, pulling you into a gentle kiss. His pillowy lips moved softly against your own, in a passionate manner, like they’ve done hundreds of times. Hands sliding from your neck to your jaw, his thumbs rubbing on the bone as he deepened the kiss by adding his tongue. Jeno’s touch becomes hot against your skin and your lower half starts to move back and forth on his lap, to which Jeno let out a loud groan. His actions soon become rougher, teeth now clashing together as the session grew longer and messier, and you pushed Jeno back so that he was flat against the mattress.

Your boyfriend flipped your current position, so that he was hovering atop of you, pinning your wrists above your head. With a smirk gracing your now swollen lips, you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him down to meet your core, just like he did you twenty minutes earlier. He ground himself into you while nipping at your earlobe. Moaning his name as he peppered kisses from your jaw all the way down to your exposed collar bones.

“Shirt…” you muttered. He loosened his grip on your wrists and your hands flew to the hem of his sweater, pulling up over his head and arms, throwing it somewhere in your bedroom. Jeno did the same to you, pulling off your t-shirt, exposing your guarded chest. Your hands travel up and down his chiseled stomach, muscles tightening under your touch while the boy was attacking your still covered chest, leaving markings everywhere.

Moving away from your body, he stared down at you with hard eyes. As he towered over you, thinking of how to go about this, you noticed how his expression changed from earlier; his nervous and innocent look had morphed into a dark almost threatening one. “Face the mirror for me, baby.” His voice was low.

“T-the mirror?” you stuttered, now feeling anxious. The boy nodded, jutting his head towards the full-length mirror that was your closet door. With hesitance, you shifted your body and faced your reflection. You watched Jeno through the mirror, his smirk growing as he fixated himself behind you, his bare chest pressed against your back. The boy brought his hands to the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down with the help of you lifting slightly. Just like you did with his sweater, he flung your clothes across the room.

“Would you look at that.” He chuckled as he took your hand in his. Jeno lead them south, hovering them above your core. He dragged your nimble fingers along your slit, making you feel the wetness your body created. “How fast do you get wet?” he questioned, followed by a scoff. The deepness of his tone sent shivers down your spine and the feel of his skin against yours created little tingles that flowed through your body. “Someone must be excited.”

With your head against his shoulder, Jeno first stuck two in, to which you moaned loudly, closing your eyes. “Watch my fingers.” Instantly, your eyes shot open and were back on your reflection. Jeno’s mouth was right at your ear, so you could hear and feel the hot and heavy breaths that left him. In your ear the boy whispered things that made you feel dirty, in a good way. This was far from what you and he have ever done. When it came to sex, you always thought the two of you were on the same page: simple sex, nothing like what you were doing now. But that didn’t mean you weren’t open to it, obviously you were because here you are, watching yourself get finger fucked through your reflection.

“God, look at how you’re squirming.” He chuckled darkly. ��I haven’t even fucked you yet, but you still look like my cockslut.”

You liked this new side of Jeno; well, it probably wasn’t new, but since he always been soft with you, it was indeed "new" in a sense. You loved the way he spoke to you, the grittiness in his voice, the way he was roughly moving his fingers inside of you. “I can’t wait to fuck you raw.” He practically growled into your ear.

“Jeno…” your breath hitched at the familiar knot of tension that had start to loosen.

“That’s it,” he eased. “cum for me.” Squeezing your eyes shut as you came on your boyfriends’ fingers. He let you grind on his hand, riding out your orgasm. “Fuck yourself on my fingers.” He ordered, taking his other hand and bringing it to your clit to rub it. When you whined, Jeno let out a laugh and curled the fingers inside you up.

“Jeno, fuck, that feels so good.” Your back arches off his chest, but he just follows your movements. His fingers move harder against your g-spot, sending shocks through your body. “Oh my god.” You repeated and repeated, on the verge of cumming again, after it barely being five minutes later. “Fuck, Jen- shit.”

Suddenly, he pulled away from you and left from behind you.

Whining in annoyance, you brought your own hand and got off without him. It felt good, but not as good as when he did it. You had come down from your second high, but you were still trying to calm your breathing. You couldn’t see Jeno’s expression when he found you whining and writhing on the bed, but boy was it hot. “I can’t believe my eyes.” He laughed. “Never thought I’d see my innocent little Y/N fuck her own cunt.” Your eyes now wide open, you found the boy standing at the edge of the bed, still half clothed.

“What do you think I do when you’re at work and I’m horny.” You rolled your eyes as Jeno let out a loud laugh. “Jeno.” He brought his now dark eyes to your own, showing him on your needy expression. “Please…” you averted your gaze to the massive strain in his pants, which made Jeno scoff. He shook his head with a devilish smirk. You scrambled on your knees and undid his pants, yanking them down, along with his stained boxers.

“You wanna suck my dick?” he raised a brow when you grabbed his fully hard length. You don’t really like giving him head, since you’re not the best of it, but today was different, something sparked in you.

Cracking your mouth open, you stuck your tongue out and let his cock slide to the back of your throat. Jeno let out a low moan, slowly thrusting into your mouth, pushing your hair away from your face you wouldn’t eat it too. (DAISY INTERRUPTS: BYE WHY DID I WRITE THAT) “Fuck baby, look at you deepthroating me like the angel you are.” He jerked his hips slightly harder than before. “You look so good with your lips wrapped around my cock.”

You coughed and choked a few times, making Jeno pull out to make sure you were okay, since he knew you weren’t used to it. “That’s enough.” You looked up at him with pleading eyes, wanting him back in your mouth. “Don’t worry, there are other ways of filling you with my cum.” He winked before easily shoving you further back on the bed. Just that statement had your pussy overflowing with arousal.

Jeno split your legs apart he leaned down and pressed a kiss on your cheek. He drew his cock up and down you slit, mixing his arousal, your arousal and saliva. He teased you by bringing his cockhead to your entrance, pushing in slightly and pulling out right after. Each time Jeno did this you hummed in anticipation before you whined in annoyance, his smirk growing wider and wider by the second.

“Jesus Christ, Jeno, just fuck me already.” You glared up at him. To your request, Jeno did just that and plunged right into you. His pace wasn’t too fast but still not too slow, but he pounded into you hard. His heavy thrusts made you reach for his back, clawing at the bare skin. Jeno let out a gruff moan, reveling in the feeling of your tight walls and the stinging on his back. “Faster.” Jeno’s eyes widened, and his hips slowly gained speed, soon starting to drill into you. You moaned loudly, begging him for things that you could never say in public.

“Oh, look at my little angel, so fucking tight for me.” He clenched his teeth. “Look at what a slut you’ve turned into, begging me to fill you up with my cum. God, what have I done.” His voice grew louder as he slammed his hips against yours. He looked down at your chest, eyes landing on the jackpot, which was conveniently placed in the front. Reaching his free hand forward, he unclasped your bra, revealing your tits. Jeno’s dark eyes glowed as he watched them move with his thrusts. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. I love your pretty little pussy and how it clenches around me. God, I just want to fuck it until I get a baby in you.” You whimpered at the thought of his cum filling you.

“Do it.” You hissed. “Please Jeno, harder.” You begged for the umpteenth time that night. He pressed a kiss into your calf, plunging his cock into you at an impeccable pace.

“There’s not much more room left.” He warned. “But, fuck, you’re taking me so well.”

“Just use it all. Good god, Jeno, just please, please, please,fuck me.” You sobbed out of pleasure. Jeno growled at the request, pressing your hips down into the mattress. With his cock practically hitting the entrance of your cervix each time he moved, you felt your climax beging building up, the tension starting to feel like the type you get when going up a roller coaster, but more… pleasurable. “Soon… close… cumming.” You muttered.

“Me too, angel.” He slid his hand up your stomach, touching your soft skin. “Shit, I’m so ready to fill you up. Do you want it? Want me to fill you up nice so that you’ll be full for days? That your pussy is stuffed with my cum and can’t hold anything else?”

“Fuck yes.” Your voice was breathy. “I want it so bad. Breed me.” Jeno almost screamed at your words, his cock twitching with anticipation.

“You’re gonna look so fucking hot when you’re pregnant.” His fingers got a hold of your nipple and started to pinch it, still continuing to relentlessly ram his cock into your hole. “I’ll fuck you and fill you everyday if I have to.”

“Fuck! Jeno, Jeno, cumming.” You screamed, your back arching, that roller coaster feeling finally crashing down into your third orgasm of the night. Jeno’s hips jerked back and forth to reach his own high, not pulling a single inch of many out when he did.

Slowing his hips down, he hunched over into your nape, muttering how “fucking good” he feels and more sweet nothings into your glistening skin. Your boyfriend stayed this way, finally growing soft inside of you minutes later.

Lazily knocking your head against his, you kissed into his hair "Not so bad was it?"

A dry chuckle came from his mouth. "Let's do it again."

[artzee-bee]

Best friend’s ex | Benny Weir x reader

Fandom: My babysitter’s a vampire

Request: “ Um if you don’t mind can you write for mbav? Something along the lines of the reader and Ethan try a fake relationship thing cause Ethan asked her to? Like to get to Sarah/ or get her attention. And everyone is shocked cause they thought Benny and the reader would date instead cause all 3 of them are childhood friends”

Genre:Fluff mostly but I guess a little angst torwards the end

Warnings: some arguing and also it’s LONG, don’t say I didn’t warn you

A/N: This has a little Ethan x reader too but over all it’s Benny with a guest apperence from jelous!Benny torwards the end (or at least that’s what I was going for)

~~~

“Wait, you’re dating?! Like for real dating?!”

 You clinged tighter to Ethan’s arm “Yeah, we are” but you weren’t. You didn’t want to lie to your friends and it was honestly making you kinda uncomfy but you were doing it for E.

“Ok so how long has this been going on for?” asked Benny. You and your entire friend group were gathered around his locker and you decided to break the news to them about your and Ethan’s “relationship”, which was all bullcrap. He had asked you a couple nights before to pretend. He was hoping it would get him closer to Sarah.

“Um, no more than a month” E said, trying to sound as confident as possible and doing a fairly good job at it. Of course you saw right through him but everyone else seemed to buy his act.

“Well that’s...interesting news” Sarah laughed awkwardly

“You think so? Why?”

The group went silent for a moment

“Well, just cause” Sarah started, nervousness laced into her tone “I mean I would have guessed that Benny and Y/N were going to get together eventually.” Rory and Erika just nodded in agreement while Benny tried to suppress a nervous laughter.

“I mean, come on guys” he said “ I’ve known Y/N for just as long as Ethan.” 

“Yeah, but you two just always seemed, I don’t know, closer?”

“Well” Ethan interrupted “ seems like you were wrong on that one.”

Suddenly aware of how rude she sounded, Sarah babbled some lame excuse and left quickly, face red from embarrassment. Rory and Erika left as well, each in their own direction, but not before congratulating the couple once more. Benny was the only one left.

“You good Benny?” E asked

“Yeah, I guess it’s just interesting seeing you like this”

“I hope you’re not mad or anything I mean we…” you were quickly cut off by Benny

“No, no, absolutely, not! I’m really happy for you guys! My two best friends are in love, that’s really cool!” A pink tint made its way onto your cheeks hearing Benny say “in love”, even though you knew it wasn’t true. E smiled at you and hid his face in your hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he placed his hands on your hips, swaying you two back and forth for a moment

“Alright, well I gotta go. Chem starts in a few” you told your boys and headed to class, not before hugging both of them and leaving Ethan with a quick peck on the cheek

As soon as you got to class however, you texted your “boyfriend”

“Think that went pretty well”

“I think so too. Everyone seemed to buy it!”

“I know!” you said and the conversation ended like that. 

You switched your attention back to your teacher, who was discussing your next assignment but even though your eyes were on her, your mind was replaying Sarah’s comment on repeat. You and Benny, huh? You couldn’t say you disliked the idea or that you’ve never thought about it. You’ve always felt different when hanging out with him compared to all your other friends.You felt more free and comfortable. You couldn’t stop the smile on your face from the fuzzy feeling you got just thinking about Bens and you together.

“So how long are we gonna be doing this for?” you texted Ethan. Now that you thought about it, you could never date Benny after this. The sudden realisation made your stomach twist in knots. He would never even go on a date with you if he thought you to be Ethan’s ex! Bro code or whatever but you couldn’t blame them!

“I don’t know for sure, I don’t see why it should last more than a couple months.”

“Ok” you didn’t mind helping E. He was a great guy and one day, some amazing girl is gonna see that and be all over him, even if it’s not Sarah! And he’s going to fall in love and have a beautiful wife and a happy family and this thing you are doing right now is just gonna be a silly high school memory to look back at. You tried not to overthink everything like you usually do and go with the flow, have fun.

It was surprisingly easy to do. Holding hands and occasional cheek kisses didn’t mean much and you never had a “proper kiss”, telling everyone you were simply not fans of PDA. It didn’t feel much like you were a couple, just closer friends. Touchier.

About 4 months down the line, you and Ethan go on your last “date”, which really just meant pizza night at Morgan’s.

“Thanks for all this Y/N, I know you didn’t have to and it might have been awkward at times but it means a lot that you went with it all this time” Ethan says sincerely while pouring you a glass of soda

“Don’t be silly E! You are one of my best friends. I would do anything for you.”

“Yeah but, now you and Benny won’t be…” he didn’t finish his sentence, as if he wasn’t sure if bringing this up was even a good idea or if it was gonna make you mad. You told E about your crush on your best friend not long after your first day as a “couple”. You couldn’t lie to him and quite honestly, you needed someone to vent to. The more you thought about Benny, the more it hurt and while you weren’t mad at Ethan for bringing it up now (you knew he had the best of intentions), it was putting you off

“Let’s not talk about that tonight” you said softly

“Right, yes, of course! Sorry” you giggle and reached out for your glass of soda, raising it up

“A toast!” you declared dramatically, making E laugh “To our breakup!” Ethan raised his own glass and clicked it with yours 

“To our breakup!” he said before you both took a sip of your drinks

You laid down on the couch, getting ready to watch Scare Finder. Your head was resting on one of Ms. Morgan’s decorative pillows and you placed your feet on E’s lap. He rolled his eyes at you and you giggled

“I love you!”

“I love you too babe” he joked before laying down next to you and wrapping you in a hug. The couch was a bit too small for the both of you to lay down side by side and you felt the left side of your body  hanging off the edge but E’s arms were around your waist, holding you and you felt safe

“Can we..” Ethan whispered nervously “can we keep cuddling during shows even if we aren’t boyfriend- girlfriend anymore?” 

“Yes of course” you giggled

“Good, cause this is really comfortable” he whispered in your neck

“I know, I love it too”

~~~

 Your breakup was a much bigger deal than you anticipated.Your friends seemed not only shocked, but heartbroken too. You didn’t tell them anything about why you ended your relationship, saying it was too early and you didn’t feel like talking about it but that you were still close friends and nothing was going to change

Things went back to normal afterwards, except now you were single and so was Benny and you couldn't help the invisible pull, dragging you closer and closer to him. Everyone of his silly jokes made you crack up and you couldn’t even be mad at him when his failed spells ended up in a big mess that you and the friend group needed to solve. You hadn’t realised how much you missed him until you broke up with E. Whether or not that relationship was real, it felt like a real reason to stay away from Benny. It felt like you were taken because everyone else belived you to be. You couldn’t make a move on him because everyone knew you to have a boyfriend but now you didn’t and you couldn’t help yourself from looking at B in a different light.

You were over at his house, helping him pack some herbs he had to organise for his grandma, as punishment for wasting all her old ones on some spell. You were stuffing dried leaves in tiny jars, while Benny was busying himself attaching little tags to them, with the name of each plant.

“Thanks again for coming to help me, you didn’t have to”

“Anytime Bens, you know I’m always here for you” you looked at him and smiled sweetly. He looked into your eyes and said

“I know, Thank you” you nodded and switched your focus back on the plants, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush on your face. Lucky for you, he started telling a story that happened in his geography class and things slowly fell into their usual, casual place, at least up until you had to leave.

You placed the last little jar in its respective spot on the shelf

“I think this is it, right?” Benny asked

“It should be”

“Perfect, I’m in dire need of a snack. You want chips? I have some upstairs”

“No, it’s late, I should head home”

“Um, ok yeah. No problem” but none of you moved after that, you just looked at one other for a little bit, until the awkwardness got too much and you took your backpack and headed to the door

“Thanks again” Benny said right when you reached the door

“No problem” and then time froze again. You got lost in his pretty eyes and barely noticed his chest rising and falling faster with every second that passed until, you both found yourselves in each other's arms, kissing deeply and desperately, as if you’ve waited all your life for this. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling at loose strands, his hands running up and down your back, bringing you as close to him as possible. All your senses were intoxicated with him and finally, the little pit in your chest disappeared. Your lips fit together like puzzle pieces but than, all of a sudden, Benny pushed you away aggressively

“No, I can’t do that!” his back turned to you, but you saw the red in his face and his hands went to his head, massaging the back of his neck just like you had been doing

“Benny…”

“No, no, you are Ethan’s ex and we can’t do that! I can’t do that!”

“B, listen to me!” you tried to step towards him but at your slightest movement, he jumped back, finally turning to face you

“Y/N, that was a mistake and I’m sorry! We shouldn’t have done that! It was a mistake” your eyes stung from the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks

“Don’t say that…” you could barely hear your own voice and were genuinely surprised when B replied

“Of course it was! As much as I wanted to do it and as right as it may have felt, it’s barely been a few weeks since your last relationship with MY BEST FRIEND and your best friend too and we can’t, I CAN’T do this to him! You, you guys dated and…”

“But we didn’t!” you said

“Of course you did, are you out of your mind?” Benny looked at you, teary eyed and desperate “I saw you, we saw you! Holding hands and cheek kisses! He had his arm around your back every moment of every goddamn school day and every time I wished it was me! He had all of you and he could hold you during movie nights and spend all his free time with you and kiss you and run his hands through your hair and everytime he did it I imagined that I was in his spot, hoping you would look at me with the same love and admiration that you looked with at him but now it’s too late! It doesn’t matter that he didn’t cherish you better while he had you because I still can not take you! I can’t do that to him!”

“Benny it wasn’t real!”

“What does that even mean Y/N?” he was yelling now, but you knew he wasn’t angry, just hurt. You saw the tears in his eyes and how hard he tried to stop them from running down his face.

“We weren’t ever dating! We just pretended!” the madness in his eyes turned to a question, an invitation for you to continue “It was all a show Bens. He wanted to impress Sarah. He asked me to fake a relationship with him.”

Benny leaned over the table, resting his body on his arms. He seemed to be thinking for a while, until he said “That’s a stupid idea”

You laughed “I thought so too when he told me” Benny seemed to think some more before saying

“Such an Ethan idea to have” which only made you laugh more

“So it was never real?” he asks you finally

“No! It was just an act” but even now, Benny couldn’t say anything. He was looking at his hands nervously. You took a deep breath and said the one thing you could think of

“He knows if that’s what you are wondering” the boy looked at you with questioning eyes again “Ethan I mean”

“Ethan knows what?”

“That I like you” Benny straightened and looked at you with soft eyes once more, you felt your cheeks heat up and turned to walk away but Benny quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, holding you in a tight hug. 

“So, does that mean I can kiss you again?” a small smile tugged at your lips

“Please do”

[ronnie-azumane]

Rebound

Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader 18+

NSFW, IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT

Warning: mentions of breakup, cunnilingus, 1 photo taken (nature of which is slightly nonconsensual), aftercare

A/N: So, uhh, these past few months have been wack in regards to my love life. I went from breaking off an almost 2-year long distance relationship, to proclaiming that I’m gonna have a hoe phase on Tinder, to actually meeting a guy who I actually like (who knew I would have a successful Tinder relationship?!?!)…….. soooooooo

ALSO-- this is my first (serious) smut I've ever written. Please be kind.

ALSO ALSO-- if this gets enough love, I might make this concept into a full-blown fic

You did everything right. You made time for him. You gave him gifts. You sent him both a good morning and a goodnight text every day. You fulfilled his needs, even when it didn't necessarily benefit you.

Or so you thought.

If you didn't answer that butt-dial from him and heard the pants and moans coming from his end, you would have lived happily in ignorant bliss. If you didn't go to check on him to see if he was ok, you wouldn't be in the predicament you found yourself in currently.

Now you find yourself, wrapped in blankets, crying on his neighbor's couch.

Your boyfriend would always complain about his next door neighbor Tetsurou Kuroo, how he would be the reason your boyfriend got in trouble with loud music and smoking with the landlord. However, despite your boyfriend's hatred of him, you grew close to the rooster head, becoming proper friends and not the girl who apologizes after every night she gets a little loud. He didn't approve of this friendship, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

Now that he's your ex, there is absolutely nothing he could do about it.

"So you walked in and saw him banging his coworker?" Tetsurou asked, placing a glass of cold water into your hand. Your body shook as you lifted the glass up to your lips to take a sip. You then set the glass down on the side table.

"Yes, and it was the one he told me not to worry about." you stuttered. You didn't care much for that coworker. She always seemed to weasel her way into your relationship. Date nights were cut short by her calling your [now ex] boyfriend to help her with a problem. He always seemed to be texting or calling her, and when you would ask why, he would just say 'work' and close his phone so you couldn't see. You would express your concern, but he would assure you that he only had eyes for you.

What bullshit.

Your wails of agony have since subsided to small sniffles. Your breathing was still rapid and without control, but for the most part you were calming down.

Then your phone went off, sounding a text tone that you had specifically saved for your now ex boyfriend.

As you reach for your phone, Tetsurou grabs a hold of it.

"Gimmie that," you whine.

"Password," Tetsurou demands.

"W-what? I'm not just gonna give-"

"Password!" Tetsurou demands even louder. Sighing, you tell him your password and he unlocks your phone. He reads over the text your ex sent you, talking about how you didn't know the whole story and scoffs. He taps on your phone a bit and gently tosses it on the couch cushion next to you as she sits himself down.

"Blocked him for you. He was going on about how you don't know the whole story and that this was the first and only time he messed up. Newsflash, I'm his neighbor, and the girl he has been with the last few weeks definitely wasn't you."

"Oh," you sniffle. So your suspicions were correct. This had been going on for quite a bit. "If you knew, why didn't you tell me earlier?" you asked Tetsurou.

"Well, honestly, I just put the pieces together this morning," Tetsurou replies. The walls are thin, so he could hear every gasp and moan that happened on the other side. He figured it was you, since you were his girlfriend after all. He would just turn on a show and watch it to tune out the love making on the other side of the wall. However, when he didn't receive the usual sorry note under the door that you would write, he knew something was up. The amount of times he would have to turn on his show wasn't going down, but the amount of the little notes he received was.

"You know, I don't think he ever loved me," you say, turning away from Tetsurou. "I honestly think he only liked the idea of me." The waterworks started to flow again.

"I tried so hard, you know? I know he didn't treat me the best, but I stuck with it because I thought he truly loved me," you sob into your hands. You smash your palms into your eyes as you cry out, as if you are trying to stop the tears coming out of your eyes. But they don't stop. If anything, they start to flow out faster.

"What did I do wrong?"

As soon as that question escaped your lips, Tetsurou pulled you into his lap and pressed you head against his chest. You cried even harder, balling his tear-soaked t-shirt in your clenched fists. He ran his nails across your scalp, lightly scratching it in an attempt to calm you down. Usually you would tell him to stop so as to not mess up your hair, but hair was the last thing on your mind at the moment. His other hand was rubbing your back, grounding you from the emotions racking your body at the moment.

"You did nothing wrong," he whispered over and over again in your ear, repeating until you calmed back down. He reached across from you and grabbed the glass of cold water and placed you off of his lap.

"Please drink up, I think you cried half of your water weight in the past 30 minutes alone," he joked, earning a small giggle from you. "I hate to leave you alone, but I'm going to change real fast and get you some bubble tea from that place down the street you like. Sound like a plan?" He asked, earning a nod from you.

With that, he stood up and left to go change and get some tea. You sat back on the couch and watched the door close shut. Now you were alone.

You had been in his apartment a couple times before, but now you were truly looking around at his décor. He didn't have much hanging on his walls, but he had a few pictures here and there. One was of his old volleyball team from high school. He stood in the middle with his red number 1 jersey sticking out for all to see that he was the captain.

Another picture he had on the wall was a picture of a small girl in his arms. After recalling a couple of conversations the two of you had, you remembered that he did have an older sister who had a daughter of her own. His niece.

Her short black hair was sticking up into two little pigtails, each decorated with a small pink bow. Her fluffy pink dress contrasted beautifully with the black dress shirt Tetsurou was wearing. Both of their smiles reached their ears.

He looked pretty good.

You sit there thinking, realizing only now that Tetsurou, the 'nasty neighbor' of your ex boyfriend, your friend, was pretty attractive. How come he didn't have a girlfriend of his own? Did he maybe swing the other way? You shook that thought out of your head when you remembered the stories he would tell of his high school sweetheart.

What happened to her?

While you're lost in thought, you don't hear the front door opening up.

"Here!" Tetsurou shouts, scaring the living daylights out of you. In one hand he's holding two cups of tea with the little tapioca balls at the bottom, and in the other are two straws. You sigh in relief as he sits down next to you, handing you your tea and straw.

"Tetsurou, what ever happened to that girl you dated in high school?" you ask as you stab the straw through the plastic.

"Oh, Alisa? It wasn't too brutal. Our futures were going in different directions and we just fell out of love," he shrugged as you sipped some tea and a few balls of tapioca.

The silence is deafening. Every time you glance at him, you shutter. 'How did I not see how hot he is earlier?' you scold to yourself.

The longer you look at him, the more you get worked up. Your eyes travel downwards to his neck. His Adams apple is sticking out, not too much, but just the perfect amount. They continue downward to his arms, which are framed beautifully by the cotton t-shirt he's wearing. His veins twist across his muscular arm and down to his hands.

Oh god his hands! The roughness of the veins popping out contrast with the smooth, even coloring of his skin. light callouses dot his palms, but for the most part, his hands are soft. perfect for caressing-

Not paying attention, you start to choke on a tapioca pearl. Coughing and wheezing, and with a little help from Tetsurou, you get it out of your windpipe. You pull the straw a little higher to avoid any more tapioca at the moment to catch your breath.

"You alright?" Tetsurou asks, and you nod a little too frantically. He squints his eyes and stares at you for a little bit, seeking confirmation that you're actually ok and not lying to him. Pursing your lips together in a sort-of smile, he takes that as the confirmation he needs and moves back to his drink.

The way he sips on the straw, how his soft, supple lips form around the straw and suck. The way the tea he's drinking dribbles down his chin just a little bit. The way he moves his thumb over his chin to wipe it up.

It shouldn't be getting you this worked up.

"So, is there anything you want to do now?" Tetsurou asked, reaching for the remote as if to imply that they should watch something on the TV. The way his arm flexes as he reaches across you.

You can't take it anymore.

"I want you to fuck me!" you blurt. As soon as the words left your lips, your hands shot up to cover your mouth.

Now it is his turn to choke on his tea. He drops the remote and it breaks apart on the wooden floor. Your hands migrate from your mouth to cover your face. This has to be the most embarrassing moment in your life.

"W-what?" Tetsurou asked, finally catching his breath. You keep your hands on your face, as if they are glued in place. The last thing you want is to look at him, much less in the eye.

"Ju-just ignore what I said! It's not important!" you frantically wave your hands around, hoping maybe they can help you fly away from the current situation.

Alas, you are merely human, and must suffer through the consequences of your actions.

Frantically, you shoot up from your seat, mumbling a string of farewells as you walk toward the door. However, you do not make it far, as you find your hand encapsulated in Tetsurou's as he yanks you back onto your spot on the couch.

"You can't just leave after saying something like that," Tetsurou mumbles. His ears are burning bright red while his cheeks are dusting a soft pink.

"Don't worry about it, I'll just download tinder and relive my frustrations there," you stutter, trying to stand up. However, under Tetsurou's grip and stare, your attempts are rendered futile. Fully realizing the situation, you sigh and throw your head back against the back of the couch.

"Fine," you mumble, blushing, "sorry for making you uncomfortable, I definitely did not mean to say that out loud."

Silence.

Unsure of what to do, you start to explain yourself.

"I'm just so frustrated, and I just wanted to... you know... get him back, like an eye for an eye type of deal," yo ramble on.

Tetsurou dropped his head into the palms of his hands, nodding his head left and right.

"And while you were gone, I kinda realized how attractive you were and i-"

"I never said I wouldn't, did I?" Tetsurou asked, not lifting his face out of his hands.

With that statement, the air is sucked out of your lungs. Your heart beats faster in your chest, while simultaneously wrapping itself tight within your body.

"No, uh, you don't have t-"

""Honestly, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to... for a while now," Tetsurou admitted, "So I'll do it, my only rule being that we won't go all the way today."

You press your fists into your plush thighs. "Why not? You literally just admitted that you were attracted to me," you ask.

"Because I don't want to give myself false hope."

"Why would fucking give y-" you tried to ask before Tetsurou interrupted your interruption.

"You just broke up with your long time boyfriend, a messy break-up I may add. Your emotions are all over the place. I really like you, (y/n), I just don't want to be your rebound. I want to be with you because you truly like me, not to get back at your shitty ex next door." He let out, like a breath held underwater.

"Oh," you whisper. He made a great point. What were your intentions right now? Was this all a ploy to get revenge on your ex? Did you actually like Tetsurou that way?

Did it really matter?

"So what?" you ask, stunning Tetsurou into silence.

Tetsurou swallows the lump in his throat and asks you to clarify.

"Well, there is a mutual attraction, and we both clearly want this, why don't we just go for it and see what happens?" you ask.

The pause is long and silent. Tetsurou’s eyes were looking everywhere but at you. Did he actually want this? Yes, but in this way? He took a glance in your direction and saw you still staring down at your tea, swiveling the ice around in circles.

You were definitely a sight for sore eyes in Tetsurou’s ever so humble opinion. The way your face was tinted the slightest red color made his heart melt. He would never forgive his neighbor for what he did to you, making your larger than life personality look small and meek.

Overwhelmed with feelings of both attraction and adoration, he simply couldn’t help himself. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this, but after all this time of him secretly crushing on her from a distance, he just couldn’t hold out anymore.

He grabbed your face and turned it toward him, crashing his lips onto yours.

The kiss became more feverish as the seconds passed. A simple peck turned into moments of locking lips, trying to taste each other.

His lips were thin, however soft, with the slight sting of mint chapstick tingling your tongue. You decided to take initiative and slipped your tongue out to taste his bottom lip. He took the signal and included his tongue in the dance, the two muscles stroking together as he grasped the hair on the back of your head and pulled you closer.

As the make-out session continued, the two of you started to position yourselves on the couch; you lying against the armrest and him balancing himself on top of you. Once in this position, his hands started to wander across your body.

Every curve of yours was not left without attention. His hands traveled from behind your head to your chest, from your chest to down your stomach, from your stomach to your thighs, and finally spread your thighs apart to gain access to your covered core, where you wanted to feel his hands the most.

His kisses started trailing south to the crook of your neck, moving from kissing to sucking as he started to rub your clothed slit. An airy gasp escaped your lips, enjoying all the sensations you were feeling at the moment. Once he was satisfied by the purple bruise left just above your collarbone, he started to sit up, causing you to whine from the loss of contact.

Your whining soon stopped however when you noticed him grabbing at your shorts, working to pull them down. As he started to pull down, your breath got caught in your throat, causing it to be held in. Flinging your shorts and panties behind him, he gently kissed your thigh and asked, “Do you still want this, you seem a little tense?”

“Yes!” you gasp a little too fast. His breath was so warm against your wet pussy, teasing you to the point of no return.

“Ok, you have to let me know if you get too overwhelmed or want to stop at any point,” he says before diving down. You are about to acknowledge him until a heavy gasp escapes your lips before you can give your confirmation.

Tetsurou didn’t hesitate going down on you. He simply couldn’t wait any longer. Simply pumping his fist wasn’t doing it for him anymore.

He started to kiss, flick, and suck at your clit, making you breathe harder with the rising pleasure. His movements were soft and light, but they were shaking your very core. He grabbed your thighs and placed them over his shoulders, giving him more access.

His movement was simple, something you could easily replicate with your fingers and maybe a quality toy, but that didn’t change how it was working on you. Your heavy breaths turned into soft whimpers as the pleasure began to bubble up.

You were progressing nicely, but Kuroo didn’t think it was progressing fast enough. To remedy his frustrations, he rubbed his fingers against your wetness, slicking it up to start thrusting into you.

The anticipation of his fingers slipping into you made your whimpers louder. He switched up his mouth to sucking your clit between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue and slowly inserted a finger. He pressed the pad of his finger against the ceiling and started to thrust in and out, rubbing against the entirety of your g-spot softly.

This new sensation had you bucking your hips and bubbling over with pleasure, pretty much ripping the orgasm out of you. Tetsurou smiled as you rode out your orgasm, moaning and whimpering small vowel sounds.

The orgasm was nice, but Tetsurou knows you can be louder, he's definitely heard you get louder at least.

Before you can fully recover from your high, his lips reattach to your clit and insert two fingers into you. The moan that escaped your lips was loud and almost pornographic. He smirked, knowing your shit ex next store most likely heard it.

Although, he knew that the fun this round was only just beginning.

Instead of thrusting his fingers in and out, he started to press his fingers up against you, as if he was motioning for you to come here.

The new motion of his fingers mixed with his lips sucking and tongue flicking at your clit was causing you to sprint to the edge way too fast. You couldn’t hold back your moans by control alone, so you bit the back of your hand in an attempt to suppress the noise.

Tetsurou was having none of that today. Using his other hand, he rips your arm away from you, silently implying that he wants to hear how loud you were being.

You try to ground yourself by grasping the armrest behind you, although that doesn’t do much to stop yourself from the orgasm that's rising far too quickly.

Your moans are getting louder and louder as you get closer and closer. Tetsurou has you teetering on the edge as his movement gets faster and faster. Soon your coil snaps and you find yourself cumming harder than you ever have before.

You thrash your head side to side as your hips buck up toward his fingers. He removes his lips and fingers and starts to quickly rub his fingers back and forth on your clit as you ride out your orgasm, extending the peak longer than what you're used to.

As you start to once again come down from your high, you hear soft chuckling coming from Tetsurou. You look up to find his shirt soaking wet.

“Di-did i-i do that?” You ask, afraid of the answer.

“If you’re referring to the squirting, yes, you just did. Hard,” Kuroo smirks, causing your already flushed face to burst even more red in embarrassment. Instinctively, you hide your face behind your hands, as if you could magically disappear if you couldn’t see him.

“Pretty hot,” he mutters to himself before beginning to suckle on your inner thigh, allowing you to completely come down before going back at it. Beyond your blissful sighs, Tetsurou heard your phone buzzing in the background.

Blocked Number.

An evil smirk came to his face as a sinister idea popped into his mind. While you were blissfully unaware of your phone buzzing, Tetsurou opened your phone and unblocked your ex, just to see if he was reacting to the pretty sounds you were making.

And reacted, he did.

Countless messages flooded your phone after Tetsurou unblocked his number, with messages ranging from ‘come back, let’s talk baby,’ to ‘you better not be with Kuroo right now.’ The final message read, “I know that’s you at Kuroo’s apartment, you fucking bitch.”

“Tetsurou, what are you doing?” you ask, finally in grip with reality.

“Just giving your ex a bit of a show,” he replied, diving right back in.

Breathlessly, you grasp his bed head, trying to get a grip on your once again slipping reality. In the heat of the moment, he pushed your thighs down to each side, revealing your flushed pussy. While flicking his tongue on your clit once again, he snapped a selfie. In the frame was his face, smirking with his tongue out flicking your clit. To make the picture even better, your manicured hands were in view, gripping his hair in pleasure.

Perfect for a porn twitter account.

Tetsurou typed out ‘your loss, pal,’ and sent the text, blocked your ex’s number once again, and tossed your phone to the side, getting back to work, soon bringing you to your third and final orgasm.

After cleaning you up and bringing you a glass of water, Tetsurou snuggled up to you under a cozy blanket. As your endorphins went down, the pure dread of what your ex did came back.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N), do you regret what we did?” Tetsurou asked, the expression of pure concern expressed on his face.

“No, I’m just angry about this whole thing! Three years gone!” you shutter, trying to hold back tears. Tetsurou held you tighter.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he whispered, brushing your hair out of your face.

For the next ten minutes, you were crying into his chest as he rubbed you back and whispered soothing words.

As you calm down and sip your water, Tetsurou breaks the silence saying, “We need to talk about what just happened and what we are.”

You don’t reply, instead, you stare off to the side past Tetsurou’s shoulder.

“I kinda like you, but I’m not sure,” you meekly reply.

“Understandable. I want you to sleep on the idea of us. After you think of it, I want you to call me. Then we can get dinner.”

Space is what she needs, and space is what Tetsurou is willing to give her.

“Sounds great, but can I stay a little longer?” you ask, nuzzling seemingly closer into his warmth.

“Stay as long as you need, sweetie.”

[biaswreckme]

caught in a lie | pjm

Part of the Sons of Midas Collab

Summary: As the heir of the King’s Conglomerate, sweetheart Park Jimin has been spending his time at the hospital run by his father, shadowing his footsteps. And it is where his life entangles with yours with lunch dates, caring touches, and whispered promises. But what happens when he finds himself caught in a web of lies?

Pairing: Chaebol!Jimin/Nurse!Reader

Members: Jimin, Jungkook

Length: 8.5k words

Genre: romance, angst, smut, strangers to lovers

Rating: 18+

Triggers/Warnings: explicit sexual content, oral (f and m giving and receiving), fingering (f receiving), lowkey dom!jimin, dry humping, praise kink, accusations involving drugs/meds, lying, incrimination

A/N: This fic is a two-shot part of the Sons of Midas collab. I wanted to start by thanking mars @joheunsaram so much for inviting me to be a part of this incredible collab with such beautifully talented writers ♥ and also for being my beta-reader, thank you so much bb ♥

part one | part two (June 25th)

You were sitting down having your lunch as usual, headphones on, watching a drama on your phone when you noticed someone settling opposite you. You had seen him a handful of times before around the hospital, but he was in a suit that was tailored to fit him perfectly that you could not imagine it being anything but expensive. He was always walking around, observing things, talking to people, but you did not think he was a doctor or another nurse or even anyone who worked there. Maybe he had a chance of being part of admin, but he looked too nice for that. Your train of thoughts was interrupted by his voice, so you paused what you were watching and took off your headphones.

“Hi.”

“Hi?” You were somewhat uncertain, not knowing what he wanted interrupting your lunch, but you noticed he had a tray on the table in front of him.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” His big smile and the way it made his eyes turn into small crescent moons made it impossible to say no, but you looked around and there were empty places.

“Ok?” You asked, confusion stamped across your face. “Do I know you? Did I… do something?” You couldn’t help but ask, this was not an everyday occurrence.

“No, no, I just… I’ve seen you around, you seemed nice, so I wanted to sit here to keep you company, well, if you want to, of course. Whatever it is you’re watching certainly must be more interesting than a random guy asking to sit at your table.” He started to ramble and opened his eyes in shock. “I’m coming off as a total creep, aren’t I? I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

You smiled, shaking your head in negation.

“You’re not, I've seen you around too. I’m Y/n Y/l/n”,” you extended your arm, presenting your hand for him to shake.

“Y/n,” he repeated, almost as if letting your name roll around on his tongue. But he stopped, seeming to think about what he was going to say for a moment before continuing. “I’m P… Jimin. Just Jimin.”

“Well, just Jimin, nice to meet you. If you’ve seen me, you might have figured I’m a nurse here. What about you? You don’t dress like one. Or like a doctor.”

“I’m… I’m a business student.” He hesitated, but he wasn’t sure whether you’d noticed.

“Business?” You asked, your tone clearly indicating you were not happy with his response. “Business… profits and losses are all you care about? This is a hospital, we treat people here, people who need and not always have the conditions to pay for it. This shouldn’t be a business,” you started getting up, and he did the same, hands up in the air as if trying to maintain peace.

“Please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Please let me explain myself,” he begged, surprised by your reaction. “I’m a business student, yes, but I’ve been going around, trying to get to know the people who work here, the people who are the backbone of this place. People like you, that truly care about the patients.”

You sat there quietly, still unsure about him, but you were willing to listen. And you were glad you did. The more he talked, the more you could see the passion in his eyes the same eye people had said before they saw in yours when you talked about your job. You were still uncertain as to why he was giving you his attention, but for the first time in a while you felt yourself truly seen by someone.

You hated to admit it to yourself, but you were lonely. Moving to Seoul for the nurse position at the hospital had been an impactful decision in your life; it meant leaving everyone you knew behind and moving to a large city by yourself. By then you had some acquaintances, but no one you could truly call a friend. Your tendency to be more introverted and not open up to people that easily both protected and harmed you, but there he was. Jimin - wanting to talk to you, to have lunch, to get to know you. He got you a small bouquet of daisies once, saying he saw them in the florist on the way to the hospital and upon inquiring about their meaning, he said they reminded him of you. And so he took to calling you Daisy, and you started wearing a daisy pin on your scrubs, causing him to smile whenever you crossed paths at the hospital but could not talk to each other.

And soon it turned into a routine. If you had the night shift, he’d usually come by in the morning to have breakfast with you, taking you to the small coffee shop you adored. If you had the day shift, he’d be your company during lunch time at a hidden table at the corner of the cafeteria, choosing to eat your lunch later than usual to not be in any of the gossipers’ radar, your dramas long forgotten during this hour. You would catch up on them later, but you didn’t have to hide behind your screen anymore, in fact, you wouldn’t even touch your phone in his presence. You got to know more about him, but there was still some aura of mystery around his family, with him saying he didn’t feel comfortable talking about them, and you hoped that maybe one day he would feel comfortable enough to open up. But regardless, your conversations were always enthralling and you were filled with sadness when the hour was up.

That is, until the week routine blended into weekends as well, thanks to you taking the initiative. You had taken to cooking for both you and Jimin whenever you knew he would show up, so this proved to be the perfect opportunity - and excuse - to invite him over.

“This is delicious, Y/n,” Jimin started, almost moaning at the taste, “how can you be this good?”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” you decided to be blunt, “cooking in particular, but I have a wide set of skills.”

Jimin just sat there with his mouth open in shock, then blinked rapidly as if to shake some inappropriate thoughts away, but momentarily speechless.

“How about you come to dinner at mine this Saturday?” you asked, deciding to go for it. You liked Jimin and you were pretty sure he also liked you, if all the time you had been spending together was an indication of that.

He took a moment to answer, still seemingly speechless by your forwardness, so you spoke again.

“I’d like to get to know you more outside this hospital, Jimin. We’re always rushing because my hours are crazy, I just… I just want some quiet time with you. And no beeping or smell of disinfectant and people running with a crash cart interrupting our lunch or coffee.” You expressed your tiredness at the situation, always being interrupted by an urgent call or trying to avoid people.

“Tell me when and where and I will be there. I want to be alone with you,” he said, staring into your eyes, then quickly blinked and continued, “I mean, I want some alone time with you too, away from this, not implying anything else, I’m sorry.”

You chuckled; it was rare to see Jimin get flustered over anything at all, it was surely a change, and you could not wait to see what other sides of him you would get to know once you were away and by yourselves.

You opted for a casual dinner, after all, it was at your small apartment, but Jimin’s definition of casual was definitely not the same as yours. He showed up in sinful pants, tight, showing you his muscular thighs - you had learned he was a dancer, yet the muscles that strained the fabric were still a surprise - a black shirt and a leather jacket, which you had carefully put in the hanger by the door, leaving him to roll up his sleeves. You were wearing a black dress, no shoes, and some nice underwear just in case, as you had told yourself.

You had cooked something light, prepared a simple salad, and poured your favorite white wine to accompany the food. Conversation flowed nicely, and it was a nice change in scenery to be able to talk and laugh with Jimin without having to worry about being too loud or calling too much people’s attention. But as nice and calm as the situation was, the tension between the two of you was palpable in the air throughout the dinner. Whenever your fork touched your lips, he would stare, unconsciously licking his lips and taking his own fork to his mouth, his fingers tightening around the silverware.

You had finished eating for a while, just talking at the table when your eyes locked in an intense stare, and you could feel your breath starting to quicken. Jimin licked his lips slowly, his pink tongue darting out and wetting them, and your eyes could not help but focus on the motion. He bit his luscious bottom lip, seeming to think for a second, before closing the distance between your bodies. The position was a little awkward on the sofa, having to turn your bodies, one of your legs bending to give him space to get closer to you. His soft lips pressed onto yours and you felt his tongue seeking permission to deepen the kiss, his hand going to your neck to hold you closer to him, his fingers itching to entangle in your hair. You let out a soft moan when he deepened the kiss, his hand grabbing your neck so tight you could almost feel his short nails on your skin, and you whispered ‘bedroom’ in between kisses.

You wasted no time in pulling him up and towards the bedroom, mentally thanking yourself for having left the condoms in the drawer in your bedside table. It was a small apartment, so it was only a few steps until Jimin was gently pushing you on the bed, stepping out of his socks and hoisting your body up so he could lie on top of you. You opened your legs slightly so he could fit between them, and he slowly rolled his hips into yours as he kissed your neck. You grabbed his hair, your fingers tugging on his blonde strands while you lifted your leg and put it around his hip, pressing down, needing to feel him. Your dress was hoisted up, only the barrier of your lace panties and his pants (and underwear) between your bodies. You could feel his hardness pressing deliciously against you, and you pulled his hair to kiss his lips again.

His hands freed you from your dress, leaving you in the simple pair of lace lingerie, his eyes seemingly darkening seeing your body for the first time.

“You are beautiful, Y/n, such a pretty flower, I can’t believe I’m this lucky” he said, licking his lips while slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

You sat up, helping him in the process, wanting to feel his skin under your fingertips, pushing the garment away from his body. Your fingers immediately went to the side of his body, ghosting over the letters in his tattoo, then going for the deep v on his front. He stood there kneeling on the bed in front of you with his erection straining against his dark pants, and you pressed your hand against it, not hesitating to undo the button and pull down the zipper, and he helped you push it down alongside his underwear. It was a little awkward to take his pants off from his position and both had to maneuver, softly laughing at the moment, the tension and pressure of the first time easing in the room and leaving both of you more comfortable.

He helped you out of our bra, his mouth immediately latching onto one of your nipples, sucking, teasing, biting gently, leaving you a panting mess on the bed while his hand gave attention to the other nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. You could not keep your moans in, needing to let out your pleasure under his ministrations. You hoisted your hips, trying to have him press against you again when he changed his focus, but he was having none of that. He looked into your eyes while his fingers hooked on the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down, a string of your wetness visible in the light sticking to the fabric.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he said as if he did not believe it, but continued, “can I taste you?”

You could only nod, spreading your legs further so he could lie between them hoisted by his elbows. You adjusted yourself on the pillows so you could watch him, and his eyes did not stray from yours as he lowered his mouth, his tongue out, that first lick from bottom to top having him moaning and closing his eyes. He circled your clit once with his tongue, wrapping his lips around it to suck on it while holding your legs wide open. He let it go with a pop and looked at you.

“Grab my hair, Daisy,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

You did as he demanded, your fingers entangling again in his soft hair, pulling him towards you. On a particular flick on your clit that left you breathless you tugged on his strands and he moaned, so you did it again, the vibration against your bundle of nerves increasing the pleasurable sensation that had been building up until you couldn’t stop your hips from moving, chasing the high that you were about to fall from. And just as you were about to reach that delicious edge, he stopped.

“Jimin,” you whined and pulled his hair so he would keep licking you, but he shook his head.

“I wanna feel you come when I’m inside you,” he stated, kissing up your body until he reached your lips and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “Let me…” he started, moving away from you, looking around, but you just reached your hand to the side, pointing to the drawer, understanding what he wanted. His eyes tightened into the tiny crescent moons you adored, his hooded gaze of hunger for you turning you on.

He reached into the furniture and grabbed the bottle of lube and the strip of condoms. He opened the foil packet, rolling the condom on his erection and squeezing the lubricant onto it, lathering himself up. You barely had time to appreciate it for itself; it was average in length, the pink of his bulbous head matching the color of his tongue and swollen-from-kisses lips, and you were certain that you were going to feel the girth tomorrow, already anticipating the heavenly stretch that was about to come.

No words were necessary at the moment. Your bodies joined perfectly as if you were long time lovers, no more awkward touches between the two of you. He moved his hips slowly at first, letting you feel the drag of his thickness on your walls and giving you time to adjust to it, not wanting to hurt you. When you were all but clawing at his back he quickened his hips, rolling them just right to have you clenching the pillows under your head, pleasure overtaking your body. The cadence and way in which he moved his hips showed the dancer in him - you had yet to see him dance, maybe you could convince him to do it naked just for you. You could feel the overwhelming sensation building up again, chasing that high that was approaching quickly yet not fast enough.

And it was as if Jimin knew exactly what you needed, canting his hips up at the same time he pressed on your clit, snapping that coiled band forming inside you. He swallowed your moans with a kiss, moaning into it himself, feeling you tighten around him as he wanted. It did not take long for his hips to falter and you tug on his hair and pull him to an open-mouthed kiss as he came, sweaty lithe yet muscular body shining under the bedroom light with the effort.

“So how was that for dessert?” You asked and he chuckled, his lips pressing against yours, still out of breath.

And so your dates continued, alternating between your place and cozy restaurants, never seeing his place. You had an inkling of why he had been avoiding it, but you decided not to press the issue for the time being, wanting to enjoy him and his company as it came, not wanting to complicate things and push him away if he was not ready for that yet. He was slowly opening up, mentioning his family more, making it clear to you that his last name, still a mystery to you, was linked with affluent and influential people, and you did not want to break the bubble you two were inhabiting. Not yet.

That evening, he had taken you to a small family-owned dumpling restaurant. It was the best one you had ever been to, but what certainly contributed to your high opinion of the place was Jimin. He had been looking so good in the navy blazer and tight black pants, his intense eyes staring into yours throughout the meal that all you were thinking about was rushing home and getting him out of that and under you, above you, whichever way it happened. You learned to read his body and you knew he had been thinking about the same thing, his eyes darknening and his tongue peaking out to softly lick his lips and tease you. Thankfully, the restaurant was not far from your apartment, and once you were inside, he pushed you against the wall, molding his body onto yours, his muscular thigh coming in between your thighs, pressing against your center. You moaned at the feeling and started to slightly move your hips back and forth, letting your weight drop so you could feel his thigh even more. You felt him grabbing your hair and tilting your head to the side so he could kiss your neck, biting it, soothing the sting with his soft tongue. You could barely hear him, his words so low into your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

“You wanna ride me?”

You nodded your head, your mouth opening into a moan. “Yes, please… Jimin...”

“Shh, I’ve got you, Y/n,” he whispered, his lips sucking your earlobe making your legs falter. “Remember your safeword. Use it if you need it.”

He quickly looked around your apartment, pulling you towards your couch and sitting down on it. He tugged on your hands to make you sit on his lap, his legs slightly spread, and the moment you lowered your hips, your center came into contact with his erection. You moaned, pressing down, needing to feel more of him against you. Jimin adjusted himself lower on the sofa and his hands grabbed your hips, forcing them to move back and forth on him, looking into your eyes to gauge your reaction. You closed your eyes, his look paired with the feeling between your legs proving to be too intense for you to sustain his gaze. You could feel him, big and heavy pressed against you deliciously, and you canted your hips up an inch and then he was pressing just right, enhancing your pleasure. Your arms went around his shoulders and you hid your face on his neck, your hips moving slightly faster with the aid of his hands, small whines coming out of your mouth.

“You’re so hot like this, so needy for me,” he tugged on your hair while he said this, “look at me. I wanna see your face, come on, come for me.”

You pressed down harder, your legs trembling when pleasure overtook your body, the tingling spreading from the depths of your belly to the tips of your toes and fingers, and he urged you on, not letting you stop until you the small aftershocks were hitting you and you mumbled that it was too much. He kissed you, his tongue caressing yours as you slowly stepped up from his lap and kneeled between his opened legs, hands reaching to take his pants off. You almost blushed when you saw the wet stains on the front and he smirked. Jimin raised his hips, helping you, his erection finally freed from its confines as you tugged his pants down.

There was a soft stain on the front of his underwear too from where you had humped him, showing how wet you truly were. You mouthed his cock through the fabric, your nose touching the skin above it, inhaling his sweet scent, and it turned you on even more to feel how he’d been preparing for you, how he knew pretty well by this point how much you liked to smell the soft skin starting on his neck, kissing him in trails until his scent inebriated you. You followed the outline of his erection until you reached the bulbous head, snapping down the fabric so you could engulf it with your lips. He moaned and bit his full lips, one of his hands pushing your hair back from your face. You licked the wetness from the small slit, your tongue circling its head while you pulled down the underwear just enough so you could have access to his entire erection and balls. You let some spit dribble out, using your hand to stroke him up and down a couple of times before sucking him into your mouth, slowly moving and fitting more of him.

You felt his breath falter for a second before he inhaled deeply, soft high-pitched moans starting to leave his lips, almost as if he was trying to hide them from you for now but was not able to, the intensity of your touch too much for him to be quiet and not to react. You took deep breaths through your nose as you did it preparing to take his full length inside your mouth, pausing when your nose touched his skin, feeling him at the back of your throat, while you felt his left hand following the trace of your face lightly, caressing your cheek, and moaning very low ‘yes, just like this, please’. You choked once, twice, and then backed up, showing him the tears gathering on your eyes and the string of spit not breaking the connection between you and his member, knowing he liked seeing you getting messy like this - and this evening you had gone light on your makeup, thinking you should have used some more mascara to have it running down your cheeks so he could praise you and look more ruined, but alas, he praised you anyways, those words soft and warm coming from his lips as he pressed your head down again. You wiggled your tongue to lick at his base while going down, his hands tightening on your hair, his balls starting to draw up from the pleasure and you used your hands to give them some attention, caressing them softly as you tasted him.

“If you keep this up I’m not gonna last,” he let out in between moans.

You nodded; it was exactly what you wanted, because as much as he loved seeing you being wrecked, you loved watching him fall apart under your ministrations, knowing you were the one making him lose control and feel this good. You intensified your movements and sucked harder, tightening your mouth around him, getting him deeper into your mouth each time until your lips were pressed directly on his skin, the trimmed hairs tickling you.

“Let me take care of you, Chim,” you said as you let him go with a pop, your voice hoarse. You pressed your mouth on him again, this time more sloppy as you got him closer to the edge, loud slurping sounds coming from you as you focused entirely on his pleasure. You felt his balls tightening under your hands, and you increased the suction, going down fast and choking on him, constricting your throat. His voice was beautiful moaning out your name into the room, thick spurts hitting the back of your throat as you swallow. You let him go, licking him clean, out of breath and throat feeling rough. You could barely catch your breath before he was pulling you up onto his lap again, kissing you deeply and hugging you tight against his chest.

“How about we clean up and I make you some tea?” You heard him speaking, his tone low, not wanting to break too much of the daze. He looked into your eyes, smiling upon seeing you still hazy from giving him pleasure. “I…” he paused, shaking his head as if to let go of a thought and change what he was about to confess, “now let me take care of you.”

You tried to be discreet around the hospital, avoiding prying eyes and gossiping mouths the most you could, but your loving looks and soft passing touches struck the attention of one particular set of eyes.

Unbeknownst to you, Park Jimin, as the heir of his family’s conglomerate and the future chairman of the hospital, was expected to marry well and into another affluent family. More specifically, conversations were being held to reach an agreement for him to marry the beautiful heir of the Choi family, Hyuna. She was his age, went to all the same schools and frequented the same places Park Jimin did. That is, until she could not find him anymore in their usual favorite restaurants and clubs and found out he had been spending almost his entire time at the hospital.

For two people who were supposed to be getting to know each other better to make the engagement official in a few months, she surely missed him. So she took it upon herself to go to the hospital, his future hospital, and find him. It did not take her long to ask around to find he was in the cafeteria - why he would be there completely went over her mind, because he could not be actually eating there, could he?

Not only he could, but he was eating accompanied by someone. It must have been just any nurse, all part of his plan on getting to know the people at the hospital - for what reason she could not fathom, after all, he was going to basically own the place, there were other people who should care for the people. He needed to focus on the business, put his heart into it or else he would get too soft, even softer than he already was for someone who was supposed to inherit the entire conglomerate.

So she let it slide. Until she saw him again with her. And again. And once more that same week, the same month. The pattern became too obvious to her, and it was a sure explanation on why he had been avoiding her texts and invitations for dinners and parties they had an obligation to attend.

So a plan started forming into her mind. She had to get that girl out of the equation, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t done that before - albeit it didn’t work exactly in her favor as she planned when she was much younger and had her eyes on Kim Namjoon. And now Choi Hyuna got what she wanted when she wanted. Nobody, certainly not a no-name little nurse would come in between Jimin and her, not after all the planning and work she did to convince both of their families they would be the perfect match.

You were doing your rounds, visiting the patients on the floor that were under your care, going into one room after the other, checking the monitors and their stats, and comforting the family members that were anxiously waiting for updates. So you entered the room absentmindedly, and abruptly halted, surprised upon seeing who was sitting beside your patient’s son, Jeon Jungkook was his name, if you were not mistaken. Ms. Jeon was one of the most recent patients that fell in your route, and when you saw the familiar blonde man that made your heart flutter every time you even thought of his name you had to pause to collect yourself momentarily.

“Oh, hi,” you stopped, chart in hand, looking at Jimin, a little confused.

“Hello, nurse Y/l/n.” Jimin answered, trying to hide his smile.

“You two know each other?” Jungkook asked, pretending not to know, watching your reactions.

“Yes, uh, we’ve seen each other around the hospital,” you were quick to answer. “he’s been making his rounds as a business student, right?”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods his head. “Right, Jimin is finishing his business grad.”

“I told you, I’ve been getting to know people here. But don’t let us disturb your work. Go ahead.” Jimin gestured with his hands, sitting down to give you space.

You felt shy under his intense gaze, as this was the first time he was watching you work, but you shook your head and focused on the task at hand.

“I think she is mom’s favorite,” Jungkook commented to Jimin, looking carefully at both of you. “Not all the nurses talk to their patients like that.”

“It’s always good to talk to them, explain what you’re doing and what’s going on, even if they can’t respond to it,” you explained, going over the numbers on the monitor. “Alright, Ms. Jeon, everything looks good today. Did your son tell you he has someone with him today?” You lower your body so you can whisper in her ear in a way that they can’t hear, “His companion is quite handsome. I like him a lot. That’s our secret, okay?”

You did not notice, but Jimin was looking at you with such fondness in his eyes that alerted Jungkook, who mouthed a “we need to talk” to him.

“Mr. Jeon,” you said, with a normal tone in your voice, trying not to look at Jimin, telling yourself mentally to be professional. “Your mother seems to be recovering quite well, and from what the doctors have been discussing it seems she might be ready to wake up soon. Good day, excuse me.” You said, leaving the room.

As soon as you stepped out and closed the door, Jungkook looked at Jimin with seriousness stamped across his face.

“What are you doing, hyung?” Jungkook asked.

“What do you mean, Jungkook?” Jimin seemed confused at the question.

“Does she even know who you are? Who you truly are?”

“Not yet.”

“You have to tell her. If you love her you have to tell her the truth. You can’t keep lying.”

“Okay, wait a minute. One, I’m not lying per se. I’m just… omitting some information that could be bad for us. And two, I don’t love her. We’re not there yet. I don’t think so. I… I don’t know.” Jimin sighed, letting his head drop into his hands, running his fingers through his hair nervously.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her, the way you talk about her. You can’t just choose and say that you don't love her, that’s now how it works. You just fall in love.” Jungkook said, his eyes shining. “And that’s why you need to tell her you’re Park Jimin. The Park Jimin. It will only get worse if you wait more.”

“I’m scared, Jungkook,” he confessed, shaking his head with his eyes cast down. “I’m scared she’ll run away after learning the truth.”

“The longer you wait the worse it will be, hyung. Does she even have any idea how much money your family has?”

“Not really… I was thinking about inviting her to your birthday as my plus one, could I?”

“You’re not thinking about telling her the truth at the party, are you? Hyung, no! I mean, you can invite her but please tell her before that. She needs to know at least what to expect.”

“I… I’ll see. I’ll invite her and see what I’m going to say…”

“She seems good. And she seems good for you, too. Don’t fuck this up, Mr. Park.”

“I’ll try not to. I like her, Jungkook. I like her a lot,” Jimin sighed again, confessing, “Help me not fuck this up, please.”

Now, you see, Choi Hyuna did not believe herself to be lying about this particular information. She had been introducing herself as Mr. Park’s soon-to-be daughter-in-law, and whenever she got the question of “Oh, Mr. Park Jimin’s girlfriend?”, she corrected them to fiancee (well, soon enough anyways).

Using this, it was easy to learn what she needed about you. It took her a few weeks to gather all the information so as not to arouse too much suspicion, talking to different people around the hospital, to the point in which she had access to your hand-signed charts. Hyuna was particularly proud of her handwriting and signature forging skills, which only helped solidify the plan in her head.

She just needed some copies to show Jimin at the right moment. Until then, she could wait, getting to know her acquaintance at the hospital a little better so he would help her with exactly what she needed to get Y/n away from her man.

He brought up the subject of Jungkook’s birthday party when you were both lying down, sweaty bodies snuggled close, your head resting on his chest, still trying to catch your breaths after the intense and vigorous activities of the night, your body still high strung sensitive from the three orgasms in a short time and sequence, Jimin always trying to do more than the previous times to completely wreck you.

“It’s nothing fancy, just a get together to celebrate his birthday.”

“Yeah, sure, I’d love to go with you. Where is it going to be?”

“At the yacht,” he says nonchalantly.

“Yacht?” You got up onto your elbows, looking at him with disbelief stamped across your face. “Jimin, that’s not nothing fancy, that is probably one of the definitions of fancy if you look it up in the dictionary.” You shook your head, a chuckle almost in a mocking tone coming from your mouth. “I know we are not in the same financial range, but… what should I expect? I’ve tried not to pressure you to talk about your family or friends, but I need to know what I’m getting into. Because if I’m there, I’m going to meet them, aren’t I?”

He nodded in response, affirmatively.

“So I need to know some. I know the topic is uncomfortable and we don’t need to make it an issue, but I’m not going in blind.”

He sighed, pulling up your covers seeing the goosebumps starting to cover your skin at the sweat drying, and turned his body to face you.

“My family is… comfortable.” He opened his eyes wide in surprise at your laugh.

“Jimin, I am comfortable. It’s a small apartment but I earn enough to rent it, get groceries, and have some fun… Are you scared?” He nodded. “Of what? My reaction?” He nodded again in answer to your question, and you were rendered speechless.

“Yes and no? I’m afraid our bubble will no longer exist. It has been good. There has been no pressure to attend parties and pretend to enjoy conversations with people I despise with you by my side. I like being Jimin, your Jimin, not my family or money’s Jimin.”

“If you’re scared of what I’m going to think, this is not going to change what I think about you. I’ve gotten to know you pretty well, and I lov…” you paused, biting your lip, but decided to continue. “I love who you are, Jimin. You care about me, you care about everyone in that hospital, differently from any other man in a suit that has been around. You are thoughtful, kind, and sensitive. I… I love you, Jimin. Even if I don’t know your last name because it comes attached with pressure and probably an insane amount of money, I still love the person that you’ve shown me.”

For what seemed like an eternity, he just stared at you. In his mind, he was taken back to the conversation with Jungkook, reminding how he said he did not love you, that you were not there yet. But looking at you like this, the soft moonlight sneaking in through the partially open window shutters, what seemed like a glow around your body enhanced by the dimmed reading lamp by the bedside table, your cheeks still flushed with pleasure, your hair in disarray, he realized he would not want to be anywhere nor with anyone else but you. His heart pounded in his chest and it was almost as if he could feel it enlarge upon the realization of what he truly felt for you. He brought you closer to his body, kissing you deeply, leaving you out of breath once more.

“I love you, my Daisy.” He confessed in between small kisses on your cheeks, on your forehead, tip of the nose and eyelids, hugging you tight against him. “I’m scared of losing this, of losing you. But you are right, you need to know. I come from money, a lot of money. And when I say a lot, it’s probably more than what you’re imagining. As in this yacht party is nothing, one yacht is nothing really financially speaking, for both my family and my friends’.”

You nod, understanding some; he was sure, you could probably not imagine, but all you cared about was that this would not change what you had and how you felt for each other. You felt warm in his embrace, both body and heart.

“So… Now that I know, can I finally see your place? I’m pretty sure my neighbors are about to start a petition to evict me for all the noises at night…”

He chuckled, lighthearted and feeling free from some of the things that he had been hiding. There were still some details that he chose to omit, but he did not think they were so relevant at the moment. The way your bodies moved with the laughter started to have an effect on him and that he was not able to hide from you.

“How about we give them a true reason to complain?” He asked, pressing his hips against yours, and your laughter died with a moan.

You could barely wait until your shift was over to get home and relax before getting yourself ready for Jungkook’s party. You had come to know him a bit from the time he spent in his mother’s room at the hospital, especially after you found out he was a friend of Jimin’s. But now you were finally going to meet Jimin’s other friends, the ones he mentioned only by name, get to know more about his life and who he was when he was not with you and at the hospital.

You were nervous, knowing the party was in a yacht, and deep down you were scared that the people around him would judge you and him for being with you. He had told you not to worry, that he would be by your side the entire time, and that he was proud to be dating you. You only had to get to the yacht and meet him, and then everything would be alright with him by your side.

“What are you doing?” Your colleague asked upon seeing you looking at Jimin. She had sat down by your table at the cafeteria and you quickly made eye contact with Jimin, trying to signal to him before he came by your table, as you were still keeping your relationship under wraps at the hospital.

“What? Nothing. Just eating my lunch.” You shifted your gaze to your food, avoiding looking in his direction again.

“Girl, get out of your mind. He’s hot, but he is way out of your league. Don’t even dream about it,” she laughed, as if the idea was absurd. “You do know who he is, don’t you?”

You shook your head, pretending not to know, as if you were just admiring him from afar with a crush.

“That’s Park Jimin. From the Parks, you know, owners of the King’s Conglomerate and owners of this fucking hospital.”

To say shock came across your face would not have been enough. Park Jimin?

“You mean as in Mr. Park, the chairman Mr. Park?” You felt a tremor run through your body, a foreign feeling taking over as you learned the entire truth. So that was what he had been hiding from you.

“Yeah, that is his son. He’s been going around the hospital, shadowing his dad and looking at how everything works. I’m pretty sure he might take over soon, the man is surely getting old.”

“I… I had no idea.” You raised your head to look at him, but he was nowhere to be found.

This would not change things. You understood why he had omitted this information, and you had to admit to yourself that although this had the potential to change your relationship, you would fight to not let it happen. Everything had been working out fine. Everything would work out fine.

Jimin was anxious. The party had started, people mingling, drinking, not so subtle glances as the night started to progress. Daisy was about to arrive and he could not wait until he introduced her to the other guys. He kept looking at his phone and around the entrance, her text saying she was waiting for the transportation to the yacht still open. When he looked around again, he was met with Choi Hyuna, smiling and waving discreetly before approaching him. He sighed, thinking that he had been stalling for too long, he needed to tell her about Daisy and end the arrangement, no matter what his parents thought.

“Hi, Jimin,” she said with a wide smile still on her lips, hand clutching her purse tightly.

He nodded with a polite smile, and averted his gaze to search for Daisy again, and Hyuna could not help but notice the motion.

“Expecting someone?” She asked, a soft voice pretending confusion.

“Ah, yes… you’re probably going to meet her tonight, and you and I will have to discuss some things regarding our parents’ wishes.” He began, looking at Hyuna, but missing the way she tightened her fingers around her bag.

“Is everything okay? Who am I going to meet, Jimin? It’s not that nurse you've been seen around the hospital with, is it?” Her voice expressed her surprise and discontent, not being able to hide everything from him.

It was Jimin’s turn to be shocked; he thought he had been careful enough, avoiding people’s eyes, but he should have figured they were not as discreet as he thought. Well, he was one to strike other people’s attention, being who he was, so of course someone had seen him with Daisy.

“That’s her, her name is Y/n.”

“I didn’t want to be the one to break the news to you and here of all places, but I found some shady stuff about her, and if she really is coming, I think it’s for the best that you know this now, let’s go somewhere quieter.” Her acting was on point, convincing Jimin to go with her to a room. When they got there, she continued. “I was at the hospital earlier today looking for you, I know how much time you’ve been spending there, when I noticed something and talked to this other nurse who works there. He let me know some things have been missing, Jimin, meds.” She paused and opened her purse, taking some folded pieces of paper and handing it to him.

He grabbed them, unfolding, and it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing. They were copies of ID logs, schedules, reports on missing meds on carts. He was confused, your signature on some of the documents were not out of place, but he had to gather his strength not to crumple the papers when Hyuna continued.

“Look at the reports and her schedule. It’s too much of a coincidence that those meds suddenly disappeared just when she had her shift on that floor, is it not? And she even dared sign some of those herself! I’m sorry, but she must not be that smart, huh? That’s a crime, Jimin, and you as the future chairman of the hospital need to do something about it. Her colleague will probably make a formal complaint soon enough, he said he would try to talk to her, maybe she has an addiction no one knows about and can get her help…”

Jimin closed his eyes, his heart shattering into innumerous pieces inside his chest. He started shaking with heavy breaths, as pulling air into his lungs seemed like a herculean task. He let the papers fall onto the floor, not caring about them, clutching his hand to his chest, trying to dig into his skin to cradle his fragile heart.

“She must have known she could get more access and get away with it being with you for who you are.” Hyuna’s voice was muffled in his ears, and he signaled for her to leave him alone, not sure if words came out of his mouth, but he heard the door closing.

He didn’t know how long he was there, at some point he dropped to his knees, hands on the floor and hair in disarray; his entire body shaking as if he was cold, a foreign sensation dominating his body. He could have sworn he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket a handful of times, but he didn’t have the strength to look at it.

He heard his name being called, a familiar voice entering the room and closing the door, and he had to clench his teeth to gather whatever energy he had in him to deal with the situation. To deal with you and your betrayal.

You entered the room and saw him on his knees, closing the door quickly to get to him, worried about his state. Someone had let you know where he was, and you went straight into the room.

“How long have you known who I am?” It was the first thing he asked, not looking at you, when you lowered your body in front of him.

“What? I know you’re Jimin, just Jimin, remember? You told me that, but someone told me at the hospital today and I was going to talk to you about it soon but...”

“Today? How can you lie to me after I told you I loved you?” He shook his head, disbelief in his voice.

“I only knew what you told me, another nurse saw me looking at you at the cafeteria, remember the woman who was with me during lunch?”

“What are you on right now?” He finally looked at you, his eyes squinting with anger.

“What are you talking about? Jimin…” You were confused, as if you were having two different conversations.

“Or maybe you’re not on anything, you just sell it, is that it?” He got up slowly, grabbing your arm and taking you with him in the process, making you get up as well.

“I’m confused…” You tried to talk, but he interrupted you abruptly, letting your arm go as if your skin was burning his.

“When did you decide to use me and my family to get away with your problems?”

“I…”

“You know what, I don’t want to know. You broke my heart and my trust with this, I never should have trusted someone whose money…”

“Whose money what, Jimin? You told me it didn’t matter. I certainly don’t care nor want your or your family money. What did I do? I don’t understand!” You exclaimed, frustrated, confused, tears starting to fall from your eyes, his words piercing you.

He silently grabbed the scattered papers from the floor, thrusting them into your hands with force, and you looked at them. How did he have a copy of your schedule? And those signatures, they looked similar, but you did not remember touching any of those documents before. And the missing meds reports… and it suddenly started to dawn on you, but what he said next still shocked you to your core.

“Don’t you dream about stepping foot into the hospital again. If you dare show up next shift, I’ll have you arrested and sued for so much money your little mind can’t even begin to wrap around it,” he spit out, venom in his words, so different from the kind man you knew. “Now get out of here. I don’t want to ever see you again.”

You stood there without any reaction, the impact of his words freezing your body into place while you tried to fully understand the situation. You had nothing to do with those papers, but when you opened your mouth to attempt an explanation, he interrupted you again.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have someone drop whatever you have in your locker. Tell me, will we find shit there too? Or are you too smart to risk it? And how the fuck did you hide this from me?”

“Jimin, I…” you started, shaking your head, but he didn’t let you continue. He opened the door abruptly, turned his back on you and walked towards a security guard, pointing to you inside the room.

You let your tears fall free as you ran towards the same corner from which you entered the yacht, ready to leave, still confused as to who would do this to you. But it didn’t matter, did it? Jimin chose his side, and it was certainly not yours.

As you were getting ready to exit the boat, you were leaving him behind. You were leaving your hope. You were leaving your job. You were leaving your sweet memories with him on the water. You were leaving all the past months, buried in a pile of lies and you had no idea how far they went, how far someone was going to get you away from Jimin. You were leaving your heart, destroyed, stepped on, bleeding, in that room alongside those papers.

And somewhere on that yacht the love of your life was seeking that someone, also leaving behind memories of you.

“Hyuna,” Jimin started, looking at the woman when he finally found her again. He took a deep breath, resigning himself to accept his family plans for him. “We should announce our engagement soon.”

--

taglist: @veronawrites @oftenderweapons-a-companion

Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it ♥

[blzzrdstryr]

Misery

Sadistic!Yandere!Diluc x Fatui Harbinger!GN!reader

Wordcount: 6748

CW: torture, sex, foul language, isolation, sensory deprivation, extremely unhealthy relationships, dubcon, mindbreak, violence

Diluc isn’t a cruel person. Not necessarily. He punishes you only when you are difficult and for the last few weeks you tried to stay on your best behavior. Ragnvindr is nice to you, benevolent even, willing to look past your former affiliations and shower you with love. At times his affections seem suffocating and irking, blood red eyes following your every movement and him absorbing your every word as if it is a holy scripture, but you remind yourself that his love is the best thing that happened to you in your whole life.

Truly, Diluc is so kind to take you in and help you fix the errors of your old ways, even when you were snarling and spitting insults in his face, too stubborn to see how wrong your old life was. You were ignorant and ungrateful back then, seeing nothing but a Harbinger title and service to Tsaritsa. You forced Diluc to lock you up to make you realize that you didn't need your title or your vision or your archon. He is there for you and it's all that matters, you can rely on him for everything and he is happy to provide, persistent in his care for you and even now he is patient with your… deficiencies, waiting when you stop staring into the distance with vacant eyes.

You stand in front of an open but barred window, a typically Mondstadtian landscape revealed to you - bright green grass and patches of dandelions and windwheel asters growing in small groups with tall trees of the same shade finishing the picture. A gentle breeze flows through the opening, playing with your hair and caressing your skin, yet you imagine another type of wind - stronger and colder, relentless and carrying small snowflakes on the way. You close the eyes and see another image - tall, leafless trees covered by multiple layers of snow and the white ground between them. Snow shines and glitters under the pale winter sun, and you feel alive and bitter at the same time.

You know the place, having been there once, but your memory now is too blurry and fuzzy. All of the events prior to Diluc fixing you up are too foggy to make out the finer details and it somehow makes you feel sad, when you should be grateful instead. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t make them stop, rapidly going from silent crying to full on hysterics.

You hear Diluc asking what’s wrong with a concern in his voice, his hands slightly shaking your crying form. You can’t answer him, wailing even louder and stronger, hiding your face in both hands, ashamed from the sudden outburst and overwhelmed from unreasoned sorrow and heartache. Only when Ragnvindr painfully squeezes both of your shoulders and demands to know what is wrong with you in that tone that makes you shiver and gasp, do you stop, looking at him with wide scared eyes, hands that were used to cover your face, are now up in the air in a semi defensive stance.

He seems uncomfortable by your reaction, a slight frown appearing on his face, scarlet brows knit together and corners of mouth turned downward. “I am sorry”, you say, voice small and pleading, eyes casted aside not meeting his out of embarrassment. Why did you start to act so childish out of the blue?

“There’s nothing to apologize”, Diluc takes off the glove, using an uncovered hand to wipe away the tear tracks from your cheeks. There’s no irritation in his voice, just concern, so you risk a glance at him, as he continues: “You are just making me worry”

“I am sorry” you repeat, feeling a prick to your heart, as you process his words - Ragnvindr is so good to you, providing with everything you could ever ask of, and here you are, making him concerned and anxious over some silly daydreams. “It’s really nothing, I just need to be more attentive, that’s it”

You noticed that it’s harder for you to stay in the moment as you start to frequently space out, mind too occupied by the memories of days long past - playing with peers, entering Fatui, receiving a delusion. It’s a futile thing, but images still consume all of your attention and focus, keeping you from sleeping and eating.

“[First], I...” he starts, but then trails off, huffing to mask his hesitancy. Instead of talking he takes your face in one hand and leans in, his lips meeting yours. It's a slow and gentle kiss at first, but just like all other things with Diluc it quickly escalates into something more: his hands now take you by your waist and tug you closer to him, making you press with your entire chest against him, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue freely exploring the confines of your mouth as you moan into his from pleasure and such close proximity.

When you two part, Diluc leaves you flushed and dizzy, with heart quickly pounding against the ribcage. You feel a fire of arousal igniting inside of you, it travels from your chest to belly and soon spreads to the rest of the body. Your cheeks heat up as you stand up on tiptoes to whisper “Can we do it right now?” in Diluc’s ear, voice full of both shame and anticipation.

“Of course, my dear”, there are hints of a smile in his tone and he effortlessly lifts you up and heads for the bedroom and as he carries you you can’t help but zone out again, the memories of past days flashing in your mind.

***

Your first meeting happens during one winter night, as you receive the order to deal with him day prior, at a Harbinger meeting in the Zapolyarny palace. Eleven of you stay kneeling in the main hall, awaiting for Her Majesty to come in as Scaramouche and Tartaglia start to bicker as usual.

“I bet it’s about that mysterious person who’s destroying one stronghold after the other” Childe starts, voice full of bravado and smugness, fake smile blooming on his face: “Fortunately, Tsaritsa has me to take on whatever this stranger is”.

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, Tartaglia”, Scaramouche remarks, almost spitting out the last word.

“Why shouldn’t I? I am the youngest here, yet I am also the strongest. Why are you so upset? Feeling envious of my power?” Childe retorts, voice still sounding too cheery to be natural.

“If there was anything to envy. You may be the best at fighting among us, but it’s the only thing you are good at”.

“Huh, it seems I was wrong. Maybe little Scaramouche wants to be as tall as me and that’s why he spits out his funny silly slander”.

It must have struck the nerve, as Scaramouche snaps back with an angry tirade, from which their exchange escalates into a heated battle of barely hidden insults. You, just as the rest of other Harbingers listen to their conversation, half amused and half irritated, lifting the brows at the creative mockings.

“Silence”, domineering and overpowering voice says and you still yourself, eyes casted downwards, as Childe and Scaramouche stop their exchange at the same moment. Footsteps echo throughout the hall, as a feminine figure takes its place on a high throne in the middle of the hall. Tsaritsa has arrived.

“As I can see my children already know about the perpetrator attacking my servants” archon starts, divine power and absolute authority evident in each syllable. You feel how the deity’s eyes look at all of you, despite still keeping head bowed and stance obedient.

“Innamorati”, you hear your title and lift up your gaze, ready to take whatever order the Goddess has for you.

“I entrust you with this task, don’t disappoint me”.

***

Diluc is not a coward and he never was one, but now he can’t help but feel a pang of fear, looking at your approaching form.

“Let’s test our delusions, shall we?”, you almost purr, voice soft, silken smooth and full of unspoken threat. It sends shivers down his spine, yet he still equips this cursed thing and braces himself for the upcoming battle.

There’s a stillness in your moves, a confidence that whatever Diluc has in his arsenal, you can endure and answer with something deadly in return. This dangerous calm both disturbs and excites young Ragnvindr.

He lashes out on you with a stream of accursed chains, filling the air with the sickly sweet scent of mist grass. You easily side step his attack, letting out a cheerless laugh and then come back with a cold gust, frost air currents easily cutting through his skin.

He barely dodges the attack, slowly registering the pain from injury. It’s a shallow cut and a testament to your strength, Diluc thinks, as he touches the scrape, marvelling at your speed. In the end, Diluc can’t stand against you - you’re stronger, have more experience and infinitely faster than him, bringing down one overwhelming attack after the other, a catalyst shining and glowing as you do so.

He jumps and ducks and runs, avoiding one hit after the other, yet there's only so much his body can do. Soon his limbs grow heavier and his breathing labored, Diluc slows down and that's when your attack finally strikes him. It pierces his body, pools of blood quickly forming under him.

Diluc falls down, his battered body no longer able to stand. Memories and regrets alike flood his mind, reminding him of deeds he wishes he did and deeds he wishes he didn’t. He remembers his childhood - all daydreams and high hopes, the world around him bright and friendly. He remembers his father's dying face and Kaeya’s guilt-ridden expression. He remembers overwhelming helplessness and grief transforming into righteous anger and hate.

It all seems so pointless now - leaving the Mondstadt, breaking all bonds with Kaeya or spending years in a mindless massacre, satiating his thirst for revenge by destroying one Fatui stronghold after the other, with no regard for his body or spirit. What was the point of it all, if he's still there, lying and bleeding to death, as you look down on him?

He throws, what he thinks, the last glance at the world, a strange thought appearing in his mind as he looks at you: I want them. As Diluc's consciousness fades he misses a sound of an observer's footsteps.

Later, as he gets saved by the said third party’s observer, who commented and praised Diluc’s methods, he replays the encounter in his mind, getting confused at this particular thought. Why would he want you? Maybe he wants you to die or maybe he wants to see you defeated, but in no way he sees you as desirable. In the end he blames everything on his oxygen deprived brain at the time, explaining the strange attraction he felt for you at that moment.

Having a near death experience and a taste of his own dying regrets, he decides to return to Mondstadt and as he does, thoughts about you continue to pester him. They fly around and buzz, reminding Diluc of your face, eyes and voice, of your body and skills and that terrifying speed you attacked him at. He swats them away like a noisy, annoying flies, suppressing and burying feelings deep, deep down, and naming his interest in you “a desire for revenge and retribution”.

***

Your second meeting happens once the news of a sudden Stormterror attack reaches Tsaritsa’s ears - a perfect opportunity for acquiring anemo archon’s gnosis and a new step in her rebellion against Celestia. She thinks about sending La Signora at first, as your fellow Harbinger is fast and ruthless, able to complete a job no matter the cost, but soon archon changes her mind and picks you instead. For secrecy and subterfuge, she adds, don’t disappoint me.

I won't, you promise more to yourself than her, as Tsaritsa never asks but orders. With your head bowed in deep respect and the heavy gaze of the goddess on your form, you decide that you will do your best to bring cryo archon's vision into reality. You are dispatched to Mondstadt the same week, first by ship, then by carriage. Pristine white landscapes of Snezhnaya quickly morph into bright Mondstadtian green, and you finally arrive.

Despite or maybe because of Mondstadt having almost nothing similar with Snezhnaya, it steals a breath from you for a moment - city stands on a lone isle in the middle of deep blue lake, tall windmills and bright red roofs seen from a distance, along with a giant statue of Barbatos blessing the city.

Acting Grandmaster Jean greets you, her stern blue eyes intently observing you, as she says standard Favonius salute and you return your own cliche lines - about Tsaritsa’s concern and a peacekeeping mission, empty phrases that don’t elaborate on what actually Fatui will do. She fails to suppress a frown upon hearing it, sensing your real intentions, but you pay it no mind - Jean has no way or reason strong enough to ban you from Mondstadt without causing a diplomatic conflict.

You turn on the heels after brief negotiations, heading for the Goth Grand Hotel, mind already full of plans and schemes of obtaining the Gnosis. Before you departed, Tsaritsa shared a very interesting fact to you - throughout the centuries Barbatos used only one mortal form, disguising himself as a young cheerful bard named Venti. You dispatch a couple of agents and cicin mage to look for a person fitting the description, and then turn your attention to the rest of the fatuis.

You scold Anastasia for unprofessional rudeness towards Jean. “We need to maintain a benevolent image”, you say to her, right before demoting her and temporarily sending her off to Dragonspine as a punishment. Under your rule fatuis cease sneering and belittling Mondstadt in public, lessening no doubt growing ire of locals.

All goes well, until several events happen. Stormterror attacks the city and some blonde foreigner fights off the dragon, wielding mind blowingly strong anemo powers and riding the wind, like a flying bird. Then your agents finally find a bard, reporting that “Venti" prefers to spend a considerable amount of both time and mora in two local taverns - Angel’s Share and Cat’s tail.

You don civilian clothing, heading for the former tavern and send off a couple of other disguised agents to the latter one. Now, stripped of your mask and harbinger attire, citizens stop gawking and staring at you, their eyes passing your form, as you make your way as an ordinary passerby.

No one pays you attention, as you enter the tavern, save for the strange six fingered bard at the entrance. He tries to sell you his performance, but you wave him off, heading for the bar. And here you see him again - you recognize the unknown attacker, his bright red hair and eyes betraying him the same second. Your faces mirror in recognition as a tense silence settles between you.

“So what is Fatui doing in this tavern?”he asks loudly and half of the customers stop drinking and stare at you. You sigh “enjoying” the atmosphere he created, and utter a premade excuse: “Mondstadt is known for its wine industry and the best wines are sold by Dawn Winery. It would be a shame if I left the city without tasting its finest drinks first”.

You glance at the red gem on his collar, an obvious heirloom of a famous clan: “Didn’t know that Ragnvindr heir would spend his days working as a bartender. You must be Diluc, then. Am I right?". He doesn't dignify you with an answer, preferring to wipe the glasses and serve other customers, his eyes still observing you from time to time.

You quit the tavern early, as “Venti”, as it turns out, leaves the same second he hears about your presence. You order agents to spy on him, waiting for the right opportunity to strike, that you don't get a chance to act on.

You get attacked by Diluc on your way to the Windrise tree, where according to your intel, Barbatos decided to go. He slowly pulls out his claymore and you notice a difference between old and current him.

He is calm this time, his movements lacking fervent hatred and anger that was present during your first battle. He must have gotten stronger then, if he feels so confident, entering a battle with you. Or grown foolish, your mind supplies.

You start to fight, exchanging one blow for another, as he surprises you - there's no barbed chains rushing into your direction, only an orange light fire surrounding the claymore. A pyro vision dangles on his waist, glowing and shining as he activates it's powers. You masterfully dodge his hits, shooting combined anemo and cryo attacks from the catalyst.

Suddenly you step on a burning grass, and hiss and close your eyes from the sudden pain. Diluc uses this time to disarm you, his heavy claymore crushing a delicate catalyst into small pieces. It happens so fast, that you are left speechless at the sudden turn of the battle tides.

With no weapon left, all you can do is dodge and run - you almost reach the city again. it’s walls become visible as you do your best to push your body beyond limits, fatigue weighing down on every muscle. Diluc sends a phoenix - a damn phoenix! - on your way. Fire licks your skin and scorches ends of your hair, but you manage to dodge it too - if only by a small chance - and fall to the ground, mind drifting off to the unconscious world.

***

You come up to your senses slowly and gradually; first there are sensations - a rough rope around your wrists, wet, yet rugged stone walls, then the smells, tastes and sounds - stale, musty air, a coppery blood on your tongue and a shift of a fabric, and then the images at last - dark basement and a bright red blotch, that after a time becomes a head.

There’s a man sitting beside you, Diluc Ragnvindr, your memory supplies. You feel calm and confused for a moment until you remember the fight you both had. Seems, he finally overpowered you.

“You are awake” he says, voice grim and quiet.

“It seems I am. Let me guess, you dragged me here because you want to know what this big bad harbinger plans to do?”. Control your breathing, don’t let him hear the tremble of your voice, don’t let him see the fear in your eyes.

He looks at you with an unreadable gaze and you hold his stare, looking absolutely untroubled in return, a knowing and somewhat self-confident smirk playing in your lips. No matter his status in Mondstadt, Diluc kidnapped you, one of the fatui Harbingers and a close associate of Tsaritsa. His action, no doubt, will force Fatui to severe action, an action that neither his nation nor his people will be able to withstand.

“Think bigger”, he finally says: “I don’t care what you planned to do. I already have you here, weak and helpless. No, what I want is intel on what your goddess and organization are after”.

“Oh, mister Diluc, you want to play a big game? It’s dangerous in case you didn’t know. Maybe after I tell you all of our wicked plans, you will wish you had never asked” you purr, sensing how it grates his nerves, despite him keeping his face and stance impassive.

“How so?”

“Tsaritsa is the greatest of all seven, her vision is absolute. Even if you learn of her plans I doubt you will be able to stop any of them”.

“I asked what the plans were, not what you think of cryo archon”. Diluc’s voice becomes a tone louder, the already present frown on his face subtly deepening.

“Then I am afraid you won’t get any from me”.

He suddenly gets closer to you, his hand yanking you by your head. You hiss, trying to free the bound hands, as he drags you to a nearby barrel with water by hair and then he dips you in it. You instinctively jerk in his hold, a cold water seeping in your nose and mouth as he holds you underwater. Ten second passes, twenty, thirty, you jerk again, your head throbbing and aching from the lack of air, he pulls you upwards.

You nearly black out from the abrupt change, gulping down in the air and coughing out water. He repeats his question and you deny him again. He dips you more, each time becoming a bit longer than the last, only to repeat his query. You lose how many times he lowered you into liquid, absolutely wet and shivering now, when he finally stops and ties you up to the same place you woke up to.

“We will continue tomorrow, I have business to attend to. I suggest you use this time to rethink whether you want to tell me Tsaritsa’s plans or not, as I can get much worse” He heads for the exit from the basement, as you greedily inhale the air.

“Wait”, you say, still breathing heavily: “Aren’t you afraid of the punishment? You kidnapped me, a harbinger, and then proceeded to torture me. Tsaritsa will have your head for this slight against her.”

“Tsaritsa won’t find out. Your Harbingers won’t find out. No one will find out if there’s no evidence”. He steps closer to you, his voice becoming firmer with each word.

“And how do you think you will manage to hide the evidence? You left the knights years ago, you are nothing but a businessman at this point. I doubt they will cover up for you”.

“How did..”

“Oh, Diluc, people talk and I am very, very nosy. That girl, Donna, she told so much to my subordinates about you ”, you mock her, imitating her high breathy manner: “Oh Diluc, he was the youngest captain, but then he left. I wonder why he left? Maybe the knights wronged him!”

“Honestly, with the amount of ire you subject poor knights to, only a deaf and a blind won’t know about how much you despise Favonius Order'', you continue, anger and hatred seeping into your voice.

“I still have connections”, he says absolutely nonchalantly.

“Oh, do you bribe them, then? You criticize the knights for being corrupt, yet you are willing to ask them to hide my abduction? It’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it?”

Diluc doesn’t answer this time, finally stepping out of the room and locking the door. You sit alone in a dimly lit room, water still all over you and heart quickly beating in your chest, trying to calm down. Later, when your heartbeat stops booming in your own ears, you pray to Tsaritsa, asking Goddess to grant you strength and endurance.

***

You manage to doze off once your clothes are almost dry. The dreams you see are vague and murky, dripping with a sense of unease and anxiety, you see dark silhouettes that morph into looming shadows that later transform into phantasmagorical monsters. It must be why you wake up the same second door opens with Diluc entering the room.

He looks grimmer now, more determined. You brace yourself for his hands tugging at your hair again and lungs burning from lack of oxygen, but none of it comes. He uses a dagger to slice your clothes off, careful not to damage skin underneath. Out of pure nerves you quip some stupid joke about dining first, but he pays you no mind, his hands soon touching your bare legs and looks at them with a filthy stare, his red eyes consuming revealed flesh.

You still under his stare, heart pounding as you try to distract yourself from the thoughts of what he might do to you right now. Almost a minute passes, when he finally stops staring at your legs and begins to move his arms, caressing your inner side of the thigh instead.

You shift from the discomfort, alarmed when his palms start to heat up. He wants to burn me, you think and barely stop yourself from screaming by biting your lip. A disgusting smell of burnt flesh fills up your nose as tears start to travel down your face. He removes the hand, revealing two angry red imprints with a collection of small blisters already forming. Diluc, again, asks the same question, and just like the last time you refuse to answer.

He does upkeep his threat of becoming much worse, with his hands burning your naked body - he targets sensitive spots or joints,so everytime you shift or move they throb and burn, disturbed at the smallest of motions.

“You're not the one to think about the consequences, are you?”, you ask when he finishes, voice quiet and raspy from screaming.

"No one will find you".

"I am one of the Tsaritsa's most trusted servants, of course they will find me", you pretend you don't hear desperation in your own voice.

"Time will show", Diluc says philosophically, looking as gentlemanly as possible despite him torturing you seconds ago.

"Yes, it will", you agree with him, picturing the bastard's face once he gets thrown in prison.

He leaves the room and you allow yourself to slump, careful not to move burned areas too much, and then he returns again, this time with food and medicine. He works fast at bandaging and disinfecting the burns, seems he is as intent at patching you up, as he is at tearing you apart. As he swathes another burn, you look at the brought food.

It’s unlikely he would drug it to make you tell the truth, given that he already tortures you and he doesn’t seem to be a type to play mind games. It still could be laced with poison though, not lethal one, that would be counterproductive, but the one that can cause pain and tremors all over your body. You’ve seen such substance at work once, when Il Dottore decided to show you the fruits of his experiments - victims were thrashing and shaking on the floor once a five minute mark had been passed, by the twentieth they already admitted to all crimes, regardless of how innocent they were.

It might be even a new torture method, devised by Diluc, just to strip you from the short respite when you are not in pain. He finally looks up to you, finishing the bandage, noticing the stare you look at the food with. "It's not poisoned" he guesses your thoughts, taking a small bite and a sip to prove his words. A minute passes, then the second and the third ones, nothing happens with him, no blushing or paling skin, no wide blown or pinprick pupils, nothing. It still could be a slow acting poison, but you doubt it - they're usually harder to cure, Diluc wouldn't willingly consume it given the long list of aftereffects that remain even after antidote was administered.

Thankfully, he doesn’t stay to feed you, leaving you with food alone. It’s a potato hash browns, absolutely unseasoned and cold. You almost swallow them whole from hunger, realizing how starved you are once the smell of food reaches you. After a day(?) of fasting, satiation hits you full force, drowsiness pulling at every muscle. The tableware he brought is metallic and easily bends, so you can't smash it and use sharp pieces, nor are there any utensils to weaponize. You lay down on the side, as something falls on you. It's a stone.

Your hands take it, feeling its shape - mostly smooth with one angular protrusion. It's not sharp or pointed enough for you to cut through the bindings, but with enough time and effort it can break the rope with friction alone. You begin to work, grating the rope again and again, fighting off the sleepiness.

***

Diluc nods to Adelinde, as he returns from Mondstadt after signing the contract with winesellers from Inazuma. She understands this wordless gesture, starting to talk: “The.. guest you brought has eaten, last time I checked they still were awake. I did my best to be quiet, master Diluc”.

He dismisses her, thanking for her observations and decides to go down himself. A strange sort of fascination fills him, as he turns the key in the lock, that also prompts a burning shame that he grew accustomed to in the last few days.

It’s an awful thing, to find pleasure in another’s suffering - a trait of a heartless monster, as his father once said, but despite the chagrin he still can’t help but feel a quickening of the pulse as a pained whimper escapes your lips. It’s addicting honestly, to have you of all people, naked and trembling and helpless at his total control, when you were so close to ending his life just a couple of months ago. He supposes it's a type of karmic punishment to you, a fatui harbinger, no doubt a killer and horrible person - you deserve it, he tells to himself - you deserve it for being a fatui.

Moreover, you are not only a terrible, terrible person that deserves much more gruesome torture that he allows, you are also a source of priceless information - how many lives will be saved and avenged if you just tell him what fatuis plan to do. You are a harbinger, you are bound to know something, unlike most of the fatui.

Diluc carefully glances at you as he enters - you are still sitting in the same spot he left you in, head slumped low and shoulders relaxed. It seems you are asleep. He still makes his way to you, steps slow and quiet. Your hands are bound with rope and Diluc knows how much the rough fiber pulls and chafes at skin, grating it to the blood and ropeburns - he needs to use this short respite to quickly disinfect and bandage you again.

Diluc crouches down, as you twitch and then something aims for his head, he flinches a second too slow to dodge. You nearly manage to hit him right in the temple. His head almost splits in half from the burst of pain, vision blurry and disoriented.

You quickly stand, enduring the pain from the burns and make your way to the room. Diluc runs after you, panic and anger distorting his face in equal manner - he can’t let anyone see you like that! - but you manage to lock him in using his own keys. He kicks and thrashes the door, angry at himself for not carrying claymore with him, as something loudly collides with the wall at the other side. He hears a short surprised yelp and whimper - your whimper and the too familiar footsteps descending down the stairs- Adelinde.

“Master Diluc? Is everything okay?”, the headmaid unlocks the room, concern in her voice:”I saw.. the guest running out of the basement, so I pushed them back before other maids could see”

“Everything is fine, check on the Harbinger, I still need intel”.

Turns out, you blacked out upon the impact, a small trail of blood making its way down the head. Diluc is still angry at you, head throbbing and hurting, his hands itching to hit and burn you, but he can’t allow himself to lose control: you are hurt and he doesn’t want to kill you.

In the end, it’s all predictable, Diluc muses, you are an animal first and human second, your allegiance testament to that. He was too soft, too forgiving on you and you decided to twist his kindness like a blade in the back. His head still hurts, but he finally calms, reasoning your attack as an outlash of a mindless beast.

He carries your limp body in hands, finally taking out of the basement and takes you to one of the guest rooms at the second floor of the winery - it’s a risky move, but you injured your head and in Diluc’s experiences such traumas almost always carry a great risk - maybe you will even forget who you are and there’ll be no one for Diluc to interrogate to.

Placing your body on the bed he clasps a cuff around each of your limbs and gags and blindfolds you. After a second, he asks Adelinde for cotton and stuffs your ears full of it.

Human mind stripped of all stimuli is such a dangerous thing, tearing itself apart.

***

You wake up to darkness and silence, head slightly pulsing from pain. You lie on some sort of very soft bed, silk smooth sheets consuming and hugging most of your body as you wiggle your limbs, tugging at the cuffs.

A small wave of panic washes over you, as you remain absolutely blind and deaf to the world, but you try to remain calm, unsure if Diluc is standing near or not. The bindings on your hands are made of iron now, so you soon stop, knowing it's a futile thing. The only thing you can do is wait.

You don't know how much time passes between you regaining consciousness and the air shifting around you. Having been stripped of both sight and hearing, your other senses became a bit sharper, mind focusing on them to compensate. It's a subtle change of pressure but you still feel it, it's enough for you to guess where this person stands. Suddenly hands grope at you, touching and probing the place near burns. You would scream if it wasn’t for the gag, from pain and violation alone. It's a smaller palms, judging by sensations, they change the bandages. After whoever that was finishes patching you they leave you alone, their departure evoking both relief and sadness - they were a source of stimulations, stimulations that your mind desperately needs.

You start to tug at the bindings again - this time to procure pain, just to feel something again. You are bored, you are in pain and you are scared - not the best combination. Soon, you decide to distract yourself from ever increasing boredom with memories. Images of your past life flash and change before you - here’s you playing catch and hide and seek, here’s you receiving a vision, here’s you entering fatui and climbing through the ranks, here's you receiving delusion from Tsaritsa’s own hands and here's you battling Diluc for the first time.

I should have killed him, you think, I should have spent less time talking and more time fighting, the bastard wouldn't live to see another day and I wouldn't be here.

A strange feeling of panic settles in your bones, as you try to occupy yourself, it's subtle but never ending, slowly growing with each second. You try to daydream but you can’t, not when you are cuffed and your body burns. You try to reminisce again, but you can do only so much, memories becoming dull and repetitive. Soon, the subtle panic becomes not so subtle and you realize you are gasping and thrashing, limbs achings as you rub them against the rough shackles.

You must have blacked out or drifted to sleep, because the next time you wake up you feel a bit different - a little cleaner and more sated - they tend to me, when I am unconscious you realize. Diluc wants to limit all interactions I have.

You don't know how much time you spend there in the end, but it has a profound effect on you - at first the concept of sharing fatui plans with your captor seems nonsensical and traitorous, but after a couple of days-weeks(?) of being chained to one place with limited movement and perception, it stops looking like such a bad idea to you.

Time distorts around you, you can't tell how long you were lying there, seconds turning into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into near eternities. At one point you started to cry again, scared and panicked and then you proceeded to scream.

***

Diluc comes to you again, taking out the cotton and blindfold from your person. Your eyes hurt and your head starts to ache again from the rush of noises, and you blink a couple of times to see the man before you. A strange mix of emotions washes over you - you hate Diluc, you truly despise him with every fibre of your being, yet now Diluc is the only person you have, the only person you see. It’s so confusing and overwhelming that you start to cry, unable to process any of the feelings.

Diluc looks as prim and proper as ever, as he shushes your crying and promises to let you go if only you will tell Tsaritsa’s plans. You almost believe him, Fatui secrets dancing at the tip of his mouth, yet you hold on to the pieces of your loyalty, slowly shaking your head. He asks you again, doubt and concern in his voice. It will be better if you tell me, he says, his hand still stroking you, don’t you want to walk and see again?.

His hand stops stroking you, face turning back to stone when you refuse him for the second time. He fixes blindfold and cotton again and part of you is howling - it’s scary, so scary to be left alone with nothing but your thoughts.

This time you start to break far faster, having tasted freedom for a mere second. You break down and tell Diluc everything you know next time he visits. His hand on you feels like salvation and punishment at the same time. At the end of your confession you are too empty, all of your secrets laid before him, no place for sadness or grief left inside of you. You feel whatever was inside of you was scorched off by Diluc and it left you thoroughly burnt. Dead. Made of ash.

“My name is [First]”, you wail and howl, shoulders slightly shaking as you do. You want so much to have some human contact, to hear someone call your name for once.

It’s cathartic in a way, to tell all the secrets your mind has been bustling with ever since becoming a harbinger. He doesn’t flinch or frown when you tell what exactly you witnessed or did, intently listening to each word.

He keeps his promise and uncuffs you from the bed, but you are still not allowed to leave the room, which doesn’t really disappoint you. There are books and a small barred window that opens a view to the wineyard, a feast for the starving mind. You spend at least an hour standing at the window at first, amazed that you can see people working.

He gifts you clothes and other books, assigns a housemaid to look after you, the same one that pushed you down the stairs when you were running away, she doesn’t speak to you, preferring to avoid your gaze.

Sometimes you do feel sad - you betrayed Tsaritsa, you betrayed your homeland, you lost both vision and delusion - but you quickly shove it down, unable to process feelings properly. You know you are defeated, having seen similar behavior from fatui prisoners, and Diluc knows it too, a malice and triumph and satisfaction burning on his eyes, despite the impassive face.

He sees you as a trophy, a reminder of how he reduced the great fatui harbinger to your current condition. He orders you around and punishes when you disobey, calls it reeducation, calls it teaching you how to be a decent person, calls it a punishment for your sins. A part of you wants to retort and point out his own failings, but you stop yourself at the root, unwilling to be stripped from the world again. You comply, you suppress, you break little by little. It all pleases him.

You learn to love what hurt you the most out of pure fear.

***

“First?”, it’s Diluc, shaking you slightly by the shoulders. You snap back to reality, seeing that he already carried you to bed and undressed you.

“I am here, you can continue” you whisper as he leans down to pepper your chest and collarbone with kisses, and then hiss as he bites you.

“Mhm, that’s good,” he says, warm hands traveling down to your thighs, caressing the inner side: “Could you spread them a bit?”

You obey, equally parts scared and excited.

Truly, Diluc is the best thing that happened in your life.

Note: All fatui harbinger names are taken from commedia dell'arte. Innamorati are a couple of lovers, madly in love with each other and with the idea of being in love. I thought it would be ironic.

[ophelia-writes]

fragile - xiao x reader

warnings: mild language

being one of the most prominent young designers in teyvat meant that you were on the road constantly. by now, you were used to it, of course— you had found a temporary “home” in every region that you visited. that way, if you ever had to come back, you would at least have some sort of familiarity. it just so happened that one of those homes was wangshu inn.

due to liyue being the city of commerce, you found yourself having to travel there a lot, be it for business meetings, selling your works at festivals, or even the occasional commission from some of liyue’s most affluent families. at this point you were on a first-name basis with the inn’s owner, verr goldet, and you stayed in the same room every time. you liked it there. it was quiet and peaceful, and the golden light of dihua marsh made for a surprisingly inspiring atmosphere, so you usually ended up getting some extra work done. however, tonight was one of those nights when inspiration just refused to strike.

you quietly climbed the stairs to the upper balcony, the wood floors sending a cold shock to your bare feet. you hoped that a bit of cool night air would get your ideas flowing. but when you got there, it seemed the balcony was already occupied.

leaning with his back facing you stood a slender man— a boy, even— the wind gently tussling his turquoise hair. you froze, unsure of whether you should leave and look for another spot. however, before you could turn around and make a graceful exit, the man turned around, his intense amber eyes locking with yours.

“what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice quiet and disinterested. you stood there, gaping. there was no need to be rude! you were a guest of the inn, after all, and you just as much of a right to be there as he did.

“if you must know,” you began, folding your arms, “i needed a little fresh air. but i don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

the man scoffed. “you mortals have no respect for the adepti.”

wait, the adepti?? as in, the protectors of liyue? you thought those were only a legend. surely this asshole couldn’t be…

whatever, it didn’t matter anyway. you weren’t from liyue in the first place, so you didn’t really owe this guy anything, adeptus or not. “hm, is that so,” you replied sarcastically, setting your materials down on the balcony floor. “maybe we ‘mortals’ just have bigger problems to deal with than appeasing the egos of some hypothetical wannabe archons.” you heard the man make an indignant sound, clearly offended by your words. but you never look up from your work.

the so-called adeptus cast you a glance, watching your delicate artisan’s fingers sweep over the fabric with an elegance that he would never expect. how could someone with such a sharp tongue be so gentle with their work?

when you caught him staring, he quickly looked away, a tint of rose dusting his cheeks. “what is it, mr. adeptus? want me to make you a pretty dress too?” you teased, although you were only half joking. he would actually look pretty good in a dress.

“of course not, i—” he cut himself off, an annoyed look in his eyes. “i was simply surprised by how fragile you are.”

you dropped your needle and thread, leveling him with a deadly glare. “how what i am?” you asked incredulously, rising to your feet. “you’re the fragile one, what with your delicate ego and all.”

the adeptus crossed his arms, staring stubbornly out at the marsh below. “i don’t know why i’m even entertaining this conversation,” he said after a moment of silence. this time, his words weren’t laced with malice— honestly, he sounded rather defeated. you wondered if perhaps you had gone too far with the adepti slander. you were a bit of a diva these days, as your friends were prone to telling you. maybe coming to liyue and insulting their beloved guardians wasn’t such a great idea.

“hey, i’m sorry.” you leaned against the railing beside him, your height nearly level with his. you weren’t a particularly tall person, but for so reason you just never expected someone of his demeanor to be so… small.

so fragile, as he so kindly put it.

he let out a grunt of some kind, and you assumed that meant that he wasn’t really interested in saying anything else. “you know, if you really are an adeptus, then i guess meeting you was kind of lucky, right?” you said, almost more to yourself than to him. “i mean, some people spend their whole lives trying to seek audiences with the adepti, and here i just happened to stumble upon one during my midnight stroll. it’s kinda funny.”

you stood there in an awkward silence, not sure if he would ever respond. he did say that he was done entertaining the conversation, but still… you sighed, letting the breeze rustle your hair as you watched the peak of the sun start to rise over dihua marsh. it seemed that the two of you had been out there all night.

“look, i don’t expect us to be besties or anything, but could you at least tell me your name? it feels weird, having nothing to call you but ‘’mr. adeptus.’” you turned to look at him and saw the fresh sunlight glinting in his eyes, giving them a sparkle that they didn’t have before. he looked down, a small sigh escaping his lips.

“xiao,” he said quietly.

you can’t help but smile, somewhat pleased with yourself for getting him to give you any sort of personal information. “hmm… xiao,” you repeated, turning your gaze back to the mottled sky.

so the two of you watched the sunrise in silence, both so unbelievable fragile, yet so deceptively strong.

thank you for reading! if i’m being honest, i don’t usually plan things out before i write them, i just kinda have a general vibe or idea and then just kinda see what happens?? and this was one of those fics where idk where any of the ideas came from and tbh i don’t even know if it’s coherent lmao. but uh xiao is my absolute favorite character in genshin impact (ive been saving for his rerun for months) and i’ve been wanting to write for him but i just feel like he always ends up kinda ooc when i do. idk. anyways, that definitely won’t stop me from trying to write more for him in the future <3

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Odd Hours//Getting Even

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Warnings: Cursing; Fluff; slow burn but not nearly as slow as my usual slow burns. Notes: This is uh... I don’t know, I’ve had the idea kicking around in my head for a while. Also please excuse the film trivia. I will take any excuse to talk about The Man Who Came to Dinner. I couldn’t decide on which title would suit better so I named it both. Not beta-read. Summary: You’d never spoken to the your new neighbor before, just traded friendly waves… At the oddest times. 

Your new neighbor looked very put together all of the time. Well… The couple of times that you’d seen him in passing. He was always in a suit, his tie was always straight, and his hair was always coiffed so neatly. You just assumed that he looked that good all the time. You’d seen him with a beard once, and then the next time you’d seen him, he was clean-shaven. He was gorgeous both ways, but that beard… Fuck, it had looked good. You’d never spoken to the guy before, just traded friendly waves… At the oddest times.

-- The first time you spoke to him was evidence of that. It was almost three in the morning. You’d just gotten off of work at one of your jobs at a bar. You stifled a yawn as you stepped off of the elevator and fished into your pocket for your keys. You managed to dislodge something on your way, but you didn’t notice. At least, not until you heard: “You dropped this.” You turned to see your neighbor holding out the foldable reusable bag you tended to keep in your pocket. “Oh!” You reached out, smiling, “Thank you-- I didn’t even notice.” “Sure,” He nodded, “We haven’t met, I’m in 5B.” “5A,” You jerked your thumb over your shoulder to your door. “Marcus Pike,” He held his hand out to you, and you shook it, giving him your name. “Long night?” You asked, and he chuckled, nodding. “Very.” The two of you linger for a moment longer before you nod over your shoulder, “I’ve got a couple of hungry cats to get to, so.” “Right,” Marcus nodded. “Nice to meet you.” “You, too.” You ducked into your apartment, shutting and locking the door behind yourself. You flicked the living room light on and tossed your keys into the bowl beside the door. You stepped further inside, smiling at the sight of your two Siamese cats, Princess and Pyewacket. They lifted their heads from where they were both lounging on the couch. “I met our neighbor,” You told them. Pyewacket got up, stretching before jumping off of the couch and following you into the kitchen. “Yes, he seemed very nice,” You answered the cat’s unasked question as you reached down, scratching his chin above the black moon and star patterned collar he had on. Princess slinked into the kitchen behind him, a matching pink collar around her neck. “And hello to you, too,” You murmured, “Let’s get you fed.” -- The next run-in was almost two weeks later. It was nearly noon, and you were coming off of your other job at a bookstore nearby. You ran into Marcus as he was leaving his apartment, and your brows rose. “Hi there,” he greeted, smiling. “Hey,” You shift your bag on your shoulder as you twirl your keys around your finger. “How are the cats?” You laughed a little, nodding, “They’re good. I won’t say they were happy to see me, but I fed them, so they tolerated my existence for another day.” You eyed his pristine-as-usual-suit. “Heading to work?” “Yeah, just came off of a late night. I actually just kinda...Came back to shower and change,” He absently swept his hand over his tie. “Oh, yikes,” Your brow furrowed, “What do you do?” “I work for the FBI, International Art Theft.” Your brows rose. “Wow.” “Surprised?”

“A little,” You admitted as you walked to your door, “I had my money on your being a lawyer.”

“Really?”

You lean back against your door, waving at him, “It was the suits.” 

He chuckled, “I should get going-- as long as you don’t have any stolen art in there.”

“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you, now would I?” You teased, shooting him a wink, “Have a good day, Agent, and uh-- try to get some sleep at some point.”

--

It wasn’t every day that you got a knock on your door at two in the morning. Your hackles were immediately up, and you were quiet and careful as you crept toward your door. You peered through the peephole, frowning at the sight of Agent Pike-- And one of your cats. You hurriedly flicked your light on and opened the door. “Is, uh, this one of yours?”

“Pye,” You groaned, reaching out to take Pyewacket out of Marcus’ arms, “I’m sorry-- sometimes he slips out when I come in, and-- He’s such a weirdo, he always waits right out here.” You cuddled him close to your chest, smiling a little as Pyewacket pushed his head up against your chin. “Thank you,” You added, scratching Pye under the chin, “I hope he didn’t bug you.” “No, he was pretty friendly.” Your brows rose. That was rather unlike Pyewacket. “I’ll be honest, I was a little surprised to see you holding him-- Though that was more because, you know.” “It’s like two in the morning?” Marcus asked. You laughed, nodding. “Another late night for you, Agent?” “Slightly,” Marcus admitted before reaching out and scratching Pyewacket under the chin, “But I appreciated the welcoming committee.” You smiled, glancing down at the cat as Marcus’ fingers brushed yours. “Well, I’m glad Pye could be of assistance.” “‘Pye’?” Marcus repeated, leaning in your doorway, “Like the food?” “Oh, no. It’s short for Pyewacket,” You explained, shifting the cat in your arms. “Like in Bell, Book and Candle with uh-- Kim Novak and Jimmy Stewart?” He asked. You blinked up at Marcus in surprise. “Uh… Yeah,” You nodded, and laughed, “Sorry, just-- Most people don’t know that.” “I’m a fan of classic movies. --Who’s this?” Marcus looked down.

You followed his gaze, laughing, “Someone that was feeling left out. That’s Princess,” You smiled. You took a little bit of a step back as Marcus crouched down to pet her. You were suddenly acutely aware that you were in your pajamas and Marcus was still very...very suited. You couldn’t help but grin as he cooed over Princess, though. “I’m not gonna lie, you strike me as a dog guy,” You admitted. “Oh,” Marcus scooped Princess up, cradling her against his chest, “I do like dogs, don’t get me wrong, but my grandmother had a cat-- big fluffy Persian named Chester.” You were quiet for a moment, watching Marcus and Princess before you glanced into your apartment. “Do um--” You hesitated, “Do you wanna come in for a drink or something?” Frankly, standing across from a cute guy as you each held one of your cats had to be the weirdest way you had ever asked a man into your place. But it wound up with you and Marcus on your couch with a beer each having a shockingly nice conversation. You didn’t keep him long - you could tell it had been a long night for him and you didn’t want to keep him late - not to mention you had come off of a shift at the bar and you were pretty tired yourself.

Pike was out of there by 2:45 (though you’d gotten his number in your phone and yours in his by 2:42). Pyewacket trotted after him to the door. Marcus gave him one last scratch under his chin, one last look at you before he murmured, “Goodnight.”

--

Smitten was not the word you would use.  It was what you were, but you wouldn’t admit it. Hell, you barely knew the guy, had only met him a couple of times. But he seemed sweet-- and your cats liked him, that was a good sign. 

You tried not to reflect on the fact that that thought made you sound like your Great-Aunt Cecily.

You held off on using Pike’s phone number for about two weeks. Then one night, around 10:30, in the middle of a William Powell marathon on TCM, Pyewacket jumped off of your couch and trotted over to the front door. You frowned, watching him and muttering, “What the fuck, dude?” before you heard the jingling of keys. You smiled when you realized why he’d gotten up - and went out on a limb as you pulled your phone out and texted Pike:

-Either you just got home or the ghosts in the hallway are bothering my cat again

You raised your phone, snapping a quick picture of Pyewacket at the door before sending it off. You glanced down at the lone messages in the chat before you closed it, tossing your phone onto the couch cushion beside you. It didn’t stay there long, though-- it buzzed a moment later.

5B: You’ve got a great alarm cat

5B: Just how often do the ghosts in the hallway bother Pyewacket?

5B: And how many ghosts are we talking?

-Like once a week, they’re very mean to him.

-And at least two ghosts, I’m convinced

You put your phone down, figuring that that would be the end of it. You were wrong. 5B: They bug Princess, too?

-Nope, they don’t dare. No one fucks with Princess

-How’s work?

5B: Busy.  -Long day?

5B: Excruciatingly

-Sorry 😞

You winced, resting your head on your hand and considering.  Why did you use an emoji? You raised your phone and snapped a picture of Princess where she was curled up on your lap.

-You could take Princess with you next time if it’ll help?

5B: Might take you up on that. I’d prefer not to be fucked with tomorrow

You smiled. -I’ll see what I can do about a leash

5B: Very kind of you

-Anytime

--

5B: Okay, I don’t wanna be weird, but I feel like almost every time I come in around dinner time, whatever you get or are making smells delicious

You looked down at your phone as it buzzed and chuckled, picking it up from where you’d left it on the counter. 

-Not weird. Not to brag but I’m kinda the slow-cooker queen

You glanced at the slow-cooker, and the timer reading fifteen minutes left on the food you were making. It was a large batch - you’d wanted to have enough so that you could bring lunch to work at the bookstore. But there was enough to spare. You hesitated before texting,

-Hungry? 

--

Marcus brought wine, and stayed for three hours. The two of you ate dinner, did the washing up, and wound up on your couch watching It Happened One Night. Conversation flowed over most of it - you’d both seen it several times. The movie gave the two of you the chance to watch and weave in and out of conversation and film trivia without pressure. Pye and Princess curled up on the couch between you like sleepy little chaperones.

By the time he left, the bottle of wine that he’d brought was empty, and he had cat hair all over his pant legs.

“Thanks for dinner,” He turned around to face you as he stopped in the hall.

“Sure,” You leaned in your doorway, tucking your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants.

“I’ll have to have you over sometime, make us even.”

Your stomach flipped at the offer and you nodded, “I’d like that.”

--

“What’s got you out so late?”

“Work.”

“I’m guessing it’s the bar and not the bookshop?” Marcus asked as he watched you slouch against the wall of the elevator. You smiled a little tiredly. “I see those sharp skills aren’t just reserved for art thieves, Agent Pike.” He chuckled as the two of you stepped off at your floor. “What about you?” You asked. “Grabbed drinks with the team after work. We closed a case.” “Congratulations,” You smiled, “What happened?”

“It’s a slightly long story,” Marcus shrugged, “...Would you like to come in and hear about it?” “Gimme half an hour to shower and feed the babies and I’ll be right over.” --  “...Shit.” “What?” You lifted your head from his shoulder. Considering the last two times Marcus had been to yours, you hadn’t had any reservations about going over to Marcus’ in your comfy clothes. You’d shuffled over in your slippers, and when Marcus had opened the door, you’d held up a bottle of white wine. He’d grinned and told you it would pair well with the grilled cheese he was planning on making for the two of you. Without the cats between you, you and Marcus had settled close together on the couch. As the late night wore into early morning, you’d wound up tucked into his side as you talked. “It’s almost four,” He chuckled, looking away from his watch. “Oh,” You yawned widely, “I should let you get to bed.” “I’m the boss, I can get in a little late.” You smiled, tipping your head up and finding him watching you. “You don’t seem the type to abuse that power,” You teased. “Long as it doesn’t become a habit.” “Mm-mm,” You shook your head a little bit and sat up, “I don’t wanna be a bad influence. I save that for Pye and Princess.” “Can I walk you home?” You laughed and nodded as you and Marcus got up from the couch. You missed the warmth of him as soon as you were up, and you were so tempted to turn back toward him and cuddle into his chest-- if only to warm back up. You chatted a little more on your way to the door, and you tried not to overthink the way Marcus put his hand on your lower back as he opened the door for you. -- “Can you recommend a good book?” You didn’t look away from what you’re shelving, but you couldn’t help the slight flurry of butterflies in your stomach at the question. “That depends on what you’re looking for.” “Oh...Maybe something on classic film.” “That’s gonna be two aisles that way,” You nodded over your shoulder, “Back wall.” “Could you show me?” “You really don’t have anything better to do today, Agent Pike?” You teased. There was a pause before you heard him drifting closer to you. He peered over your shoulder, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmured, “Well, I was hoping I could take you to lunch, if you’ve got time.” “You trying to even out our meal score?”

You glanced up as he leaned against the shelf beside you and met your eyes. “I’m trying to spend more time with you,” He admitted, “If you’re interested.” You lowered your eyes to the books you were shelving, unable to help the smile that grew on your lips at his bluntness. “I’m interested.” 

-- 

Lunch ended with plans for Marcus to come over after your shift at the bar the following night. He dropped you back off at the bookstore and left you with a kiss on the corner of your mouth that you thought about for the rest of your shift. --

TCM was airing a Bette Davis marathon. By the time you got home, it was nearly 10:30. You showered, neatened up the apartment, cleaned as much cat hair off of the couch as you possibly could, and told Princess and Pyewacket to behave themselves. Princess blinked at you; Pyewacket flicked his tail. You texted Marcus that he could come over whenever he was ready, and there was a knock on the door ten minutes later. Marcus looked cozy in a way you hadn’t seen before - sweatpants and a t-shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and strong arms. You stepped back and nodded him in, and grinned as he crouched down, immediately scooping up Pyewacket as he came over. --

“You know, Bette Davis wanted John Barrymore to play Whiteside,” You were cuddled against Marcus’ chest; his arm was curled around your shoulders, fingers skimming along the strap of your tank top, “But he was drinking so heavily he couldn’t remember his lines. They wound up going with Monty Wooley-- he played Whiteside on Broadway, too.” “Really?” Marcus’ question was mumbled against your temple. You nodded a little. “Mhm. Cary Grant was set to play the role at one point, but Davis was so against it that he withdrew.” “Something tells me you like this movie.” You laughed, reaching out and absently picking off a piece of cat hair off of his sweatpants. When you’d disposed of it, you rested your hand on his knee lightly, giving him a chance to shake it off. Marcus just gave your shoulder a squeeze, and you gave his knee one in turn.

-- 

The two of you watched The Man Who Came to Dinner and All About Eve. “I’m worried that I’m setting a dangerous precedent for your sleep pattern,” You sighed as the credits rolled. It was almost half past three. “Mm, don’t worry about me,” He murmured, nuzzling into your neck. You closed your eyes, shivering a little bit. “...Do you wanna stay over?” You offered, raising your hand and lightly running your fingers along Marcus’ arm. “I’d like that.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “C’mon,” You urged, patting his thigh and standing. “Should we clean up?” Marcus stood with you, looking at the empty popcorn bowl and discarded cans of beer on the coffee table. “Nah, we can deal with it in the morning,” You took hold of his hand, leading him back to your room. Marcus glanced back toward your cats, to where Princess and Pyewacket were still settled on the couch. “Do the cats sleep with you?” He asked. “Sometimes.” “They gonna be mad if I shut your door?” “They’ll get over it.”

-- It was your alarm that woke you up. You leaned across Marcus, mumbling your ‘sorry’s and shutting it off. Once you did, you leaned back down, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes again. You smiled as his arm curled around your waist. “You need to go?” He mumbled. “No, just-- Forgot I had it set.” “Good.” You smiled, turning your head and nuzzling against his shoulder. “You sleep okay?” “Mhm,” He hummed, sliding his thumb along the hem of your shirt, “You should stay over at mine next time.” “So we’re even?” You blinked up at him as his fingers curled under your jaw, tipping your head up to look at him. “Things aren’t always about getting even,” He smiled sleepily down at you. “What’s it about then?” “...Why’d you ask me to stay over?” You hesitated before you pushed yourself up to lean over him, “I thought you’d look good in my bed. And whaddaya know? I was right.” Marcus laughed, using the arm wrapped around you to draw you against his chest. “You know what I’ve been thinking about?” He asked. “Mm?” “Kissing you.” Heat curls in your stomach, tingling and pleasant. “Something stopping you?” You asked. The hand on your jaw slipped down to rest on the back of your neck. His eyes darted between your eyes and your lips for a few moments before he leaned up, brushing his lips against yours. You felt that spark grow in your stomach, and you dipped your head a little closer, chasing the chaste touch. You shifted, leaning more heavily against him and resting your hand on his chest, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, hooking in his collar. When he pulled you closer and turned, settling you down on your back, you went easily, letting your thighs splay so that he could lay between them. You moaned quietly as your kisses became warmer, more insistent. You wrapped an arm around Marcus’ shoulders, sighing as he slipped a hand under your shirt. And then you heard a yowl at your door. You groaned quietly, dropping your head back as Marcus laughed, resting his forehead against your neck. “I told them to behave,” You whined. “Don't blame them, this is on me. I should’ve kissed you last night,” Marcus murmured against your throat. You shivered, chuckling a little. “I should feed them before they do something rude like continue to yell... or throw up in your shoes.” “Would they do that?” “Oh, god yeah. I love Princess, but she’s an asshole.” --

You reached down, setting Pye’s food dish down for him and scratching him behind the ears as he began to eat. Princess was already halfway through her food. You glanced over at your phone as it buzzed on the counter and grinned when you saw who it was.

❤️5B: How’s unpacking?

-Nearly finished. A couple of boxes left. Pye was sleeping on a stack, so I couldn’t touch it.

❤️5B: No worries, baby. On my way home. Need anything?

-Cat food and popcorn. Humphrey Boggart marathon starts at 8

❤️5B: Takeout?

-Nope, got dinner covered. ❤️5B: You’re my favorite. -Don’t let Pyewacket hear you saying that. ❤️5B: Favorite human.

-Better. Btw some couple moved in across the hall. I think they have a dog?

❤️5B: I’ll make sure Pye doesn’t get out when I come in

Tag list: @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo; @fantasticcopeaglepasta; @paintballkid711

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Another One (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! Pre-Civil War (but getting much closer). Inspired by Sam Smith’s “Another One”. Let me know your thoughts! Also, I do have the next part done as it was the first one I wrote a while ago, would you all be interested in me posting it earlier or should I save it for usual post time on its own day?

Summary: A look at the aftermath of heartbreak and the first interaction with Wanda following the incident.  Good old fashioned angst.

“Congratulations, you found the one, another one. I think I can finally face it, I’m not the one, never was the one.”

The sunlight that slowly began seeping into your room came as no surprise. You sat up with a sigh. Sleepless nights were more common than not these days, not that sleeping was easy before, it’s just been much more difficult to put your mind at ease lately. It had been a few weeks and the adjustment hadn’t been easy. 

Dealing with a heartbreak never got easier. 

Figuring there was no point in staying in bed, you got dressed in your usual training attire and headed down to the kitchen. Maybe you would finally take Steve up on his offer of an early morning run.

A quiet curse escaped your lips when you saw a lone figure sitting at the counter already. The one person you’ve been avoiding. As quietly as you could, you slowly began to back out, hoping you hadn’t been seen yet. “Hi, Y/n.” the figure said quietly, not turning to face you. You’d been caught.

The sound of her voice still hurt, but you knew you had to face it eventually. Might as well be now. “Wanda.” You replied flatly as you once again began to walk into the kitchen to make coffee. All the while trying to ignore the way your heart pounded heavily against your ribcage. 

You didn’t look at her long, but long enough to see the look of surprise cross her features when you responded. 

She cleared her throat which caused you to turn to glance at her again, taking note of how she spun a ring on her finger nervously. You wondered if she did that before meeting you. “Do you think we could talk?” she stuttered timidly. 

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you leaned against the counter behind you. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The way that her eyes filled with sadness made you want to take her in your arms and hold her until they shone with happiness again. You fought the urge. “I miss you-“ She began anyway.

You quickly interrupted her. “Don’t.”

A hint of desperation slipped into her words as you tried to block them out. “I do though. We were best friends before everything. I don’t want to lose you completely.”

It took everything in your being to not cover your ears and scream like a child so you wouldn’t have to listen to her words. All each word accomplished  was cutting deeper into your still bleeding wounds. “You moved on immediately, Wanda. You can’t just expect me to be okay and accept second best after that.”

Her head dropped. “I know, but I just… You were never…” her words were jittery, as if she thought better of each sentence. Conflict was clear in her eyes. “I never thought of you as-”  

“You’re with Vision now, yes?” You asked seemingly randomly. She bit her lip apprehensively but nodded nonetheless. “How do you feel about him?”

A small shake of her head was your only response from her. “You wanted to talk, I’m talking. I think I deserve a little honesty.” 

“We have a connection, I feel like he understands me.” You bit back a bitter laugh because once upon a time you would’ve described your relationship the same way. “I think we are meant to be intertwined because of how we developed.”

“Well, congratulations, Wanda. You found the one.” You couldn’t help the sarcasm that laced your words. “Another one.” You mumbled as an afterthought. 

She just stared at you for a moment, her lips trembling. You pretended you didn’t see the way her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Y/n-“

Already over the conversation, you interrupted her. “Honestly, I’m happy for you. I’d never, ever, wish you harm. Just make sure you treat him like someone. I wouldn’t want someone else to feel how I’ve felt the last few weeks.” You told her honestly. 

It looked as though she was about to say something else when Vision phased through the wall, starling you both as he looked between you. “Am I interrupting something?” he questioned.

You wanted to laugh at the sheer irony of his words because it wasn’t long ago that you were the one asking that same exact question. “Not at all.” You huffed as you started to walk out the kitchen, your coffee long forgotten. 

You chanced one last glance at Wanda who simply looked down and leaned into Vision. “Wow, I dodged a bullet.” You muttered with a bitter laugh as you exited, not sparing either of them another moment.

Deciding you didn’t need to go with Steve anymore, you quickened your pace as you left the compound, taking off in what was almost a sprint as soon as the fresh air hit your face. 

Flashbacks of moments with Wanda kept racing through your mind, making you want to scream. Each time this happened you just quickened your pace. You hoped that maybe running from your thoughts would work just this once (it didn’t). 

You must have been running for over an hour when the sounds of heavy footsteps approached, “On your left!” With a groan you came to a halt as Steve sprinted passed you, looking back in confusion. “Giving up so easily, Y/ln?”

Without a word you walked over to a grassy area of the park and rolled onto your back, flinging your arm over your eyes. “Not in the mood today, Rogers.”

You felt him take a seat next to you, staying silent for a moment as he just observed you. “Wanda again?” he questioned gently. 

The arm over your face shifted so you could meet his worried eyes. “I spoke to her today.”

It was clear he was surprised, but tried to mask it. “It’s been weeks. How’d that go?”

“Not well. She basically told me she wants to be my friend again and how her and Vision are meant to be.” Your defenses fell around Steve and you couldn’t contain it anymore. A tear fell down your cheek and you shook your head angrily at yourself. “Why am I crying? I shouldn’t be crying.” 

“Hey,” Steve said, his voice gentle. “You have every right to feel like this okay. You didn’t deserve what she did. Just take it one day at a time, okay?”

At his words, the tears began flowing more steadily. “That’s what I used to tell her.” You said with a laugh, your heart clenching. 

He slapped a hand to his forehead at his poor choice of words. “Alright. No more moping. We’re going to take your mind off this.” Without warning, he picked you up and began jogging back in the direction of the tower.

“Rogers!” you shouted, pounding on his back. “What the hell? Put me down, right now!”

Despite your words, Steve kept jogging, laughter in his voice. “No, I don’t think I will.”

After a few hours of Steve’s idea of a distraction (which was just hours of extra intense training) F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice came on over the speakers. “Ms. Y/ln, you have a phone call.” 

“Patch them through.” You answered as you wiped the sweat off your brow with a towel that Steve offered you. He gestured that he was going to be back, and you merely nodded back at him. 

There was static for a moment until an all too familiar voice sounded. “Y/n, I was hoping you had a moment.” Nick Fury began formally.

You took a deep breath, Fury rarely ever called. This must be serious. “Go ahead.” You replied.

                                             _______________

“Okay, repeat that back to me because I feel like I’m imagining this.” Steve told you, the look of disbelief from when you first told him the news still present as ever.

You shrugged. “Fury wants me to help run an undercover mission to get victims out of several Hydra facilities and aid in their adjustment with training once they’re out if they need it. Similarly to how I got here. Then possibly help establish a branch overseas like what we have here.”

“How long would you be there?” Steve questioned seriously.

Again, you shrugged. “Fury said it could take a year or two. Possibly indefinitely.”

Heavy silence hung in the air between you as Steve took in your words. “Are you going to take it?” he finally asked.

For a moment, you didn’t want to answer, but you knew you couldn’t avoid telling him. “I think I am.” You finally replied quietly. “I think I’ve fulfilled my purpose here, Cap. Maybe it’s time to start a new chapter.”

Steve understood he couldn’t argue. If leaving meant you could finally heal then he wouldn't stop you. No matter how much he’d rather you stay. “Just consider all your options is all I ask.” You simply nodded and tried to offer a reassuring smile. 

As you were both exiting the training area you crossed paths with Wanda and Sam who were entering for a different training session. She met your eyes and offered you a small wave. You nodded in response, searching her eyes. Searching for something that you knew you might never find again. Her brow furrowed questioningly as she sensed you analyzing her. You finally tore your gaze away, silent understanding between you two was a thing of the past now. 

“You okay?” Steve asked with a frown of concern once you were both far enough away.

Hesitantly, you nodded. “I think I’m ready to face it… I’m not the one.” Your words were steady. The tone of acceptance.

“Y/n-“ 

You shook your head. “I never was the one.” You said in a neutral voice, trying to ignore the tears welling in your eyes.

“You just made your mind up, didn’t you?” Steve questioned quietly, knowing the answer but needing to ask either way.

A weak smile covered your lips. “I think that I’ve been offered different chances for what I need in life. You offered me a hand to save me from drowning before and I took it. I think this opportunity is the hand that’s going to keep me afloat. To get me through this broken heart. I need to take it.” 

For a moment you thought back to the conversation you had with Wanda once on the roof. The conversation that opened your heart to her and revealed your scars. The true beginning of something beautiful. That moment was a thing of your past now, just as she was. Maybe it was time to let go. Time to try and stay afloat once again. After all, there was nothing else left for you to fight for here.

And there is part 6! The paths are beginning to take form. As always, hope you all enjoyed and remember thoughts and comments always welcome. :)

[hyunjilicious]

that night [harry styles]

A best friends to something else type of story. Exactly 7.8k (literally 7800 words which is scary) and you know I can’t write that much without SMUT. This takes place during a sleepover at the end of quarantine! Maybe tell me what you thought? :) (I promise I’ll edit this soon!)

-

“Show me yer phone, love” Harry groaned, sending you the coldest of death stares. The night started off as usual, you two just watching some old documentaries, paying more or less attention to them as you mostly just sat and talked. Things took a turn when your phone started blowing up with messages. Being the kind of person who always replies in an instant, suspicions arose when you decided to completely ignore the texts. Although Harry never violated your privacy and never pushed you for answers you didn’t want to give, when you started laughing and got nervous about whoever it was that kept texting you, he figured it would be worth it to push your buttons.

“I said no” you repeated yourself, standing up from the couch. There were two main reasons you didn’t want to talk about the person texting you, and these 2 reasons were also probably the only two things in the world you wouldn’t want to discuss with him.

“Why no’?” he asked offended, following you into the kitchen, like a small child begging his parents to let him have his way, “What can be tha’ bad? I wouldn’t have asked any questions if yeh hadn’t been so off about it from the start”

You turned and looked at him dead in the eye, contemplating what to say next. He beat you to it.

“Is it a guy? Have you been seein’ someone?” Harry asked as he walked over to you, completely ignoring your personal space. “Is tha’ it? I don’t wanna read yeh texts, just tell me yes or no, and I’ll drop it. Promise”

You took a deep breath. “Yes, it’s a guy” you said calmly, “But we’re not seeing each other”

“Then why does he keep texting yeh like crazy?”

“Crazy…” you sighed, tapping your chin, “Good description”

“Come on, Y/n” Harry whined, tapping your shoulder as he walked past you and towards the refrigerator, “Just tell me, I’m really curious, crazy how?”

“Promise you’re not gonna freak out?” you laughed, grabbing whatever he was pulling out of the fridge and handing to you. You stopped paying attention after three cups of pudding and one bottle of wine.

“When have I ever freaked out?” he joked, mocking himself. He was usually a calm person, more composed than anyone you’ve ever met, and he less than rarely got angry. And from those times when he did lose his temper, 90% of cases were mild and he was still calmer than anyone else in that kind of situation, but that 10% left was pure terror. When his friends told you years ago that nothing’s scarier than Harry when he was truly mad, you didn’t quite believe them. You had to see for yourself to accept it. It only happened a few times in almost 5 years, but you always still did everything you could to keep him from going off again.

“Ok, so” you started speaking as you rummaged around your kitchen for bowls and glasses, “His name is Marcus and we actually met on Tinder-”

“Wait a second” he cut you off, “During the lock down?”

“Oh, no. It happened before all of this madness. Around january, I think”

It was obvious he was already bothered by how this conversation started, but he did his best to control himself so you wouldn’t decide to drop it. “Pretty serious, then, huh?” he said eventually.

“Literally the opposite” you laughed, pouring the pudding into the bowl, “We saw each other once-” and it hurt you to say the following part but you did it nonetheless, “hooked up, and didn’t talk since”

Pure annoyance was readable on his features. “Apparently haven’t talked until now?”

“Yeah, I mean-” you cringed, “He texted me like a week or so ago and we didn’t - vibe, and he got weird, so like I muted the conversation for 7 days because I didn’t want him to bother me anymore but he got so defensive it was funny so I didn’t really wanna block him”

“Yeh muted the guy a week ago and he still keeps trying?” Harry asked, completely taken aback, “Can’t blame him, but still, tha’s a bit much”

“It is” you nodded in agreement, and motioned for him to open the bottle of wine for you.

“He must have liked yeh a lot” he mumbled, twisting the corkscrew into the top of the bottle, “Maybe you two had a really great time, and he-”

“Harry” you stopped him, leaning your head to the side, “I know you’re squeezing information out of me right now, but I honestly don’t think you want to hear more of this”

“Ok” he sighed defeated, “I’m gonna stop pushin’ yeh. Thanks for tellin’ me tho. And sorry if I crossed any lines''

“You haven’t, H” you smiled, giving him a hug from behind. “It’s fine”

After gathering everything you had fixed up to take into the living room, the pudding and the wine, as you passed the threshold of the kitchen, you heard Harry speak up, traces of amusement audible in his voice. “But like… At least was the sex good?”

“You want me to answer that?” you chuckled, plopping down on the couch. “Do you seriously want me to answer that?”

“Yeah” Harry shrugged, smiling innocently.

“It was horrible” you said bluntly and watched his grin wilt away. “Probably the worst sex I’ve ever had. No, no, no.. Definitely the worst sex I have ever had in my entire life”

His mouth fell agape. “Seriously? Why?”

“Well, i got to his house… And you know, up until then everything was fine, like he seemed like a completely normal and fun guy while we texted but like, as soon as i got to his place he became really… I don’t even know how to put it, he was um.. Very clingy and weird and we talked for a bit but then when we went to his room he turned into literally the biggest asshole I met”

“What?” Harry exclaimed, “Tha’s not wha’ I expected”

“Exactly!” you laughed, “Neither did I!”

“Then wha’ happened?”

“I went down on him and he didn’t do the same because apparently he finds that gross? That’s what he told me but I didn’t wanna get into it because I went there to get dick so I was like let’s just fuck, and we did… We made out a bit, got him worked up again, and when we fucked I literally thought something was wrong with me, because he just.. I don’t know. Bumped into me and after he finished I was there like… What just happened?”

“Yeh were right when yeh said I didn’t wanna hear this”

“Told you” you giggled, grabbing your pudding and toying with your teaspoon.

“Jus’ stop using Tinder, please” Harry eventually shook his head.

“A girl has needs, ok?”

He was enraged and completely ignored your words, “And wha’ does he want from yeh now? He really thinks yeh’d see him again? Really?”

“I don’t even know what he’s been saying, honestly” you shrugged.

“Can I see?” 

“Can you like, read from the notification box? I don’t wanna leave him on seen”

Harry nodded in agreement and you gave him your phone. He pressed the lock button, the screen lit up, and it was instantly flooded with texts from him. Since you put the conversation on mute a week ago, you had no idea what he had been saying. It seemed that he didn’t appreciate your lack of interest and that he didn’t bother to hold back.

‘You pathetic whore, u really think ur gonna find someone better than me? U think ur so high and mighty and hot but  ur gonna die alone you bitch. Do u feel better about yourself if u juts ignore my texts???? Well good for fucking u-’ and Harry locked the phone, the screen going black.

“The fuck did I just read?” he questioned, his annoyance from earlier, now morphing into pure anger.

“You said you wanted to read” you shook your head.

“Why does he think he can talk to yeh like that?”

“I don’t honestly care” you sighed, “It’s not like I’ll ever see him again, so he can go and say anything he wants”

“‘S not how that works, darlin’” he said.

"Can we drop this, please" you sighed, unable to quite look in his direction, "I don't like this"

"Well-" Harry erupted and judging by the way his voice instantly died down, you could tell he almost lost control, "I don't fucking like it either, ok? But yeh shouldn't jus' accept tha'!"

"I wouldn't call it acceptance, H" you shook your head, discarding your bowl of pudding and jumping straight to the bottle of wine. "I told him I'm not interested, and I stopped replying. It's not acceptance... he just keeps trying"

"But for some reason yeh're letting him talk t' yeh like tha'"

"Well-" you shrugged, and took a big gulp of red wine, "He talks by himself"

"Y/n…" Harry called, his voice soft and you could tell that there was anger hidden somewhere deep inside, but you still appreciated the fact that he managed to keep it contained. He extended his arm, his fingers brushing against the side of your thigh. It was a soft, delicate touch, that made every hair on your body stand up. He did it to get your attention and boy, did it work. Instantly, your eyes snapped to his, and were met with something you did not see coming. "Can I say something?" he asked cautiously, his eyes shining with genuine worry.

"You're making this into something much more significant than it actually is"

"I'll drop it" he eventually nodded, "If you promise me something"

"What?"

"If anythin' similar to this happens again, tell me"

"And what are you gonna do about it?" you giggled, trying to lighten the mood. As you kept staring into his green eyes, you brought the wine bottle up to your lips, took a long sip, and then handed it to him.

He took the bottle out of your hands, seemingly not giving more than two shits about it. The warmth in his eyes accentuated as his eyebrows gathered into a concerned furrow, "Make sure it doesn't get to yeh"

"It doesn't" you smiled.

"Lemme make sure" 

"Ok, Harry" you laughed, "I promise you that the next time a guy from Tinder gets mad about me not reciprocating the feeling, and he starts sending me that kind of texts, I will tell you"

The sarcasm just flowed out of you, and he was not impressed.

"I meant in general, love"

"Any guy?" you taunted, "Not just from tinder?"

"Fucking put on tha’ movie" he shook his head, "I know yeh too well. Won't get anywhere until you get some wine in tha’ belly"

"That's your plan?" you laughed, "Get me drunk and make me spill all my secrets?"

"I never assumed you had any secrets, but yeah, now I wanna know those too" Harry grinned, throwing his arm around you and pulling you to his chest. Although this kind of intimacy was something you've been somewhat used to, tonight it was just a bit more difficult to bear. And it may all have been due to the way he mentioned he wouldn’t want anything to get to your head, and the way he said he’d make sure of it. Even though you weren’t truly clear how he’d do that and what exactly was going through his head, it was crystal clear how you’d have him do that.

But now was not the time. You glued your eyes to the TV screen, and begged your brain to focus on the movie in front of you and not whatever Harry was thinking about, mere inches away from you.

There had been something in the air that night, because neither of you managed to pay any kind of attention to the movie anymore. You talked, the conversation not going back to the previous topic, you laughed, gossiped like there was no tomorrow, and now it was almost 4am, and you and Harry were 3 bottles of wine in. Deciding to cut the alcohol before it was too late, you settled for water, as Harry went on to finish a weird story he once heard from a hippie touring the states in his van. He was completely smitten, his eyes shone with admiration for the old man. Harry spoke with words of great respect about a life he wished he could once live. It was only a matter of time until it would get to you.

“But,” you sighed, laying down and placing your head into his lap, “You really seem like the kind of guy to pack his bags and just leave. Like get a couple of friends or something, leave a note saying you’ll eventually be back, and just travel around the world”

“I kinda already do tha’ love” Harry laughed, double chin showing as he looked down at you.

“Not what I meant” you shook your head, “And you know it”

“Wha’ did yeh mean, then?”

He looked down at you, his hands finding their way into your hair as you contemplated how to put the words together. “I don’t know… Less social interaction-” you finally said, “Make it less about living the same songs in front of thousands of people, and more about living a completely new experience as you really get to know just a handful of people”

He didn’t look convinced. His dimples were showing, and a chuckle was threatening to escape his lips.

“That didn’t make any sense, did it?” you laughed.

“It did” Harry smiled, “Might have’ta resume this in tha’ morning, but i think i got the idea”

You pointed your finger to him, “Best”

“Me?” he grinned, grabbing your hand, “Oh, stop it!”

“Not you, your idea”

“Nice save, love”

You wanted to object and keep this topic going as the butterflies in your stomach started to riot, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, the sound of your phone receiving another text filled the air. In an instant, your eyes locked with Harry’s and you knew he wasn’t gonna let any of that shit slide. Not wanting to give him the chance to protest, you sprung up and leaned towards the coffee table, your fingers barely managing to brush against the side of your phone before Harry grabbed your waist and yanked you back, pressing you against the cushions of the sofa as he hovered above you.

The intimacy and urgency of this whole charade made your skin crawl, and you couldn’t help but let a few giggles escape, “What are you doing?” you laughed.

“Not lettin’ tha’ asshole ruin your night, love” Harry smirked, tilting your head so that you had to face him. 

“I’ll see the text in the morning and it will ruin my whole day” you played along, but as it turned out, you dug your own grave.

“Oh?” he grinned, “So it does get to you”

“No!” you belted, “That is not what I meant, Jesus harry”

“Come on, hon” 

His head tilted to the side, before he leaned down and nudged the tip of your nose with his. “Jus’ say the word”

That sent burning chills down your spine, and your cheeks couldn’t do anything but to comply and turn an erotic shade of pink.

“I’m not sure what to say” you mumbled, fighting against the urge to jump on him.

“I’m yer best friend, love-” he made a small pause, for dramatic effect, and just stared down at you while your blood boiled, “Lemme show yeh how good yeh can feel”

“I-”

He cut you off, obviously proud of himself, “I obviously wouldn’t have asked twice if I hadn’t felt you squeeze your thighs around me”

“Fuck, Harry-” you said, embarrassment rushing all over you as you threw your hands in the air.

He leaned down, and brushed his lips along your jaw, “Yeh could be screaming tha’ name”

Regaining your composure, you grabbed his chin and forced him to make eye contact once again, “What does this mean to you?”

“It doesn’t have t’ mean anything we don’t want it to” he nodded, “Just friends looking out of one another”

“Mhm..” you choked, “Yep”

“Tell me, and I’ll get off of you”

Your answer came a short second later. “Yeah, get off” you said sternly.

His features barely got a chance to show the disappointment that enveloped him, because as soon as the words left your mouth, you pushed yourself up. Excitement started showing on his face as you pushed yourself up. With a devilish smile on your lips, you grabbed the hem of his shirt; not giving him a chance to secure his balance on his knees before you pulled the material up his body. He clumsily shuffled out of it, his tattoos coming into full view.

“Is that a new one” you asked, pointing to his left shoulder.

To your surprise he took you seriously, and looked down, obviously confused, “Which one, love?”

“This one” you grinned, pushing yourself up and against his chest, this way, giving yourself a chance to press your lips to the base of his neck.

Harry’s whole body shivered under you as he let out a small chuckle. Instantly, his hands found your waist. Once your lips grazed his sensitive skin, the muscles of his neck relaxed as if under a spell and his head fell back. Harry’s fingers dug into your sides as your teeth sunk his flesh, sucking profusely. Having waited for this so many years, it felt all too real and completely unreal at the same time. There was a fire burning inside of you and the soft moans slipping past his lips were no help with taming it.

“Having fun?” Harry laughed, but his confidence and usual air of self control were shaking.

As a response, you bit into his ear lobe and delighted yourself with the whimpers of pleasure he didn’t even try to hide.

Although burning for it, you didn’t have it in you to go for his lips, so when he was the one to do it, all your radars went crazy. The way he grabbed your chin and pulled you closer, it was all you wished for. Years worth of pent up emotions dripped from your lips and onto his.

How ungrateful and inappropriate would it have been for you to beg for more and guide the situation in a different direction? Even if his gentleness made your knees weak, the heat between your legs begged for a less kissing and a lot more biting. 

It was when he pressed you down against him that made you forget about everything that held you back. His erection was rubbing against your thigh as you grinded down on him, and you couldn’t help but break the kiss and sink your teeth into his lower lip.

Harry threw his head back against your touch, and a proud smile lifted up the corners of your mouth.

“Come on” you moaned, kissing your way down to his ear, “Show me how you should treat a girl”

His fingers snuck into your hair and pulled your head back, forcing your eyes to meet his’, “Is it me? Or are yeh a bit more excited for this than you initially let on?”

Your eyes sparkled as you let out the fib, “It’s just you”

Grinning, he shook his head in mock approval, and secured you in his hold, before effortlessly spinning the two of you around. Now, a mess of limbs, you looked up at Harry with what could only be described as pure lust. And it all reflected on his features. His ridiculously messy curls framed his face perfectly, allowing his proud gaze to fuel your engines.

With all your might you wanted to let him take the lead and not show too much enthusiasm, but it felt next to impossible. Before you knew it, your hands were cupping his cheeks again, forcing his body flush against your own. He kissed you back with no hesitation, as if he too waited years for this to finally happen, as if this was his dumb way of confessing to you that he too, was head over heels for you. But that was a scenario that regardless of its likelihood, was sure to ruin your mood. 

So you pushed it aside, forced your mind to fall on standby, and instead, you concentrated on the way his hands explored every single inch of your body. When he broke the kiss, you wanted to protest, your tongue crying from the sudden loss of contact. But his lips traveled lower, kissing all the way over down your neck, along your collarbones, and across your chest. It was all aggravated and hungry, as if he couldn’t get enough. 

“Yeh good?” Harry asked, looking up at you, cheeks all flushed.

“Yep, yeah” you whispered, the weight of the moment turning your voice into a light chuckle. Breathless and innocent, you were on cloud nine, and all your struggles to keep that hidden were in vain.

Delicately, as only he could, Harry pushed your shirt over your head, leaving you exposed, a fact which sent a whole new wave of pleasure down your body. This gesture alone shook your whole world, but he wasn't wasting any time. You barely even got a chance to catch your breath before he lowered himself, and cupped your breasts into his palms. Your back arched in an instant, and when his warm lips connected to your skin, goosebumps propagated all over your whole body. As circled his lips and caught your nipple between his teeth, your mind went crazy, muscles sizzling with anticipation. A suggestive moan slipped from your throat, and you could tell it surely tickled his ego.

“Gettin’ there?” he questioned even if he already knew the answer.

You threw him half a shrug, tilting your head to the side and pressing your cheek to your shoulder.

“So fuckin’ cute, angel” Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he crawled up your body, “Why’re yeh so cute?”

“How would I know?” you blushed, playing along with his overly teasing approach, “You’re the one who sad it”

“Don’t know why I think yeh’re cute?”

You nodded no.

A small but sure fire lit up his features, and he knew it was on. He did maintain the eye contact for a while, but when he finally looked down at your body, nonchalantly staring at your chest, that was when your breath got caught in your throat. The pressure was building up, yet Harry kept pushing your buttons. 

In desperate need to pick up the pace, you nudged his chin with the back of your fingers, and when his eyes caught yours; you raised one eyebrow, motioning for him to continue. “Wha’ do yeh want me t’ tell yeh, love?” Harry grinned, leaning down to kiss your neck.

“Tell me what you like about me” you laughed, linking your fingers in his hair. While you laughed due to the amount of different emotions that coursed through you, Harry made it all the more difficult for you to keep it together. His kisses were light enough for you to feel the ounces of love that dripped from his lips, but carnal enough to keep you on your toes.

“I love everything about yeh” he murmured against your skin, his chain of passionate kisses crossing over to the other side of your neck, “I mean, wha’s there not t’ like?”

“Word” you giggled, your sarcasm coming in perfect contrast to the weakness his question brought to your knees.

“Fuckin’ love every inch” Harry said, having completely ignored your joke, “Every single part of yeh, yer body and god, yer mind”

His hands cupped the sides of your rib cage, as his lips traveled down your sternum. He seemed lost, completely absorbed. Every time he looked up at you, it was impossible not to notice how out of this world his eyes seemed. Glossy and dark, extravagant green looking to explore more of you. And those were only the times you managed to catch him staring. The pleasure this man provided surpassed the moaning level, he got you working hard not to scream in ecstasy, as his tongue ran laps around your nipples, and the way his lips sucked with that specific amount of pressure. It looked as if he already knew where all your buttons were, he acted as if he knew your body better than you did. And for you, that was a new experience, which would’ve already been too much, even without Harry involved. But seeing your fingers get lost in his absolutely perfect in a messy kind of way locks, as he treated your skin with such refined skill, you found yourself way too close to the edge.

In the high of the moment, probably following an unidentifiable stimulus, you found yourself concentrated on the way his palms felt against your skin. He held you in his arms as if you were the most precious thing he ever laid eyes on. And for some reason, that feeling alone had you skyrocketing.

It was when you moaned out loud, for the first time not holding back, that he finally decided to give you what he promised. 

“Yeh sure this is ok, angel, yeah?” he murmured, looking up at you. 

His light stubble tickled the lower side of your abdomen as his breath barely managed to reach your skin. 

“Yeah” you clumsily nodded, your words coated in fervid enthusiasm.

Something happened. Something clicked inside of him. You saw it in the way his eyes warmed up. For a second he didn’t move, instead he just took in everything that was happening. When he eventually pushed himself up, you expected him to help you or motion for you to undress, but he didn’t. Harry lowered himself on top of you, pressing his chest against your own.

His fingers locked themselves against your chin, “I really wanna fucking do this right for yeh”

His confession took you aback. The seriousness in this tone was not something you anticipated. At first, he was the one who made it all seem like a meaningless game, yet right now, it seemed as though he fell into his own trap. 

All you could do was nod. Nod in approval, nod as a sign for him to keep going. As a promise that it was all ok. This attitude of his was not something you signed up for. Even if it looked like the beginning of what you always wanted, it also felt a little bit too sudden.

“Come here” you cooed, cupping his cheeks in a loving manner.

In an instant, he leaned into your touch, his skin burning against your damp palms. For the x-th time that evening, his lips melted onto yours, but something felt different. But you kept going, allowed the moment to carry you further without giving yourself the burden of dictating a direction. 

And seconds passed, and with each one, his touch became more and more aggravated. You could feel his need, and you have loved to think that what you were feeling from him was love, but it was just too big of a step to take right now. Not too shortly after, the situation escalated towards the point you left off earlier. You let him take the lead, and he soon returned to his usual self.

Harry made his way down your body through a chain of lingering kisses, each one of them awakening yet another side of you. This time, you were given no time to prepare. His experienced hands grabbed your thighs, groping their way up to your hips. Although it was fairly fast, it felt like an eternity. You breathing picked up when his fingers hooked themselves into the waistband of your leggings, and without even thinking about it, you pushed yourself up, allowing him to take them off. 

Now, you hadn’t seen this coming, because if you had, you probably would have chosen to wear something less embarrassing than your Superman underwear. Your cheek heated up as if it was the first time a man had seen you naked, and all your insecurities washed over you. None of those thoughts crossed Harry’s mind though. 

He just smiled - a gesture whose roots you’d never know. 

Harry positioned himself between your legs, his fingers gingerly tracing up and down your outer thighs. “Really fucken gorgeous, yeh know tha’?”

His compliments have never been this hard to receive, “Shut up” you chuckled, rolling your eyes as you couldn't help but squirm under his stare.

“Wha’?” Harry grinned, leaning his head to the side as he let his teasing side take over, 

“Tha’ tinder fuckface never told yeh just how perfect yeh look?”

“This is still about him, huh?”

“It’s about yeh, love” Harry rolled his eyes, letting his nails graze your skin, “Always been about yeh, always will be”

With each word that let his mouth, he leaned down, lower and lower, until every inch of his body was pressing against your own. He dominated the moment, and you love it.

When he engulfed your lips into a kiss, his right hand traveled between your legs. That alone made your core vibrate, and knowing there was no way to hide your enthusiasm, made you smile.

You felt the back of his fingers trace up and down your opening, and his words confirmed your suspicions. He pulled away from your lips just enough so he could speak, but he was still too close for you to properly see his features - he was just a few literal inches away, “I can’t wait to taste yeh, doll”

The grin on his lips and the pride of his tone, had a visible effect on you. The hairs on your body stood up in anticipation, and you couldn’t help but arch your back and close your legs around him. You kissed him back, and this time, it was on.

As his tongue pushed past your lips, Harry’s hands lewdly traveled down your sides, caressing every inch of exposed skin they found in their way. You didn’t see the eagerness coming, but when he reached between your legs, the flimsy material of your underwear didn’t even begin to come in his way. He shoved his hand under your panties, his fingers instantly coming in contact with your opening.

It was solely the emotional value of the moment that made you nearly gasp. Harry took his sweet damn time, as if you needed any more foreplay. The pads of his fingers gingerly traced up and down your opening a few times, before coming back up again to rest against your clit. It was soft and easy at the beginning, but the feather light touch of his fingers started gaining more and more pressure as subtle circular movements started to form.

When you looked up at him, you were met with the mess of curls that had fallen onto his forehead as he had his head hanging low, with his eyes trained between your bodies. With a gentle nudge against his chin, you prompted him to look up. At first he seemed a bit disoriented, but a wicked grin shortly appeared on his lips. It made you smile.

He was the one to resume the kiss, making it gentle this time - in perfect contrast with the action of his fingers, as he slowly made his way past your folds. When the first finger went in, you curled the corners of your mouth in anticipation. It felt fine, but it was just the tip of the iceberg and you knew it. Eager for more, you allowed your teeth to lewdly sink into his lower lip, willing to show him you wanted more. 

With a grunt, Harry shuffled a bit, his knees bucking into your hips. The deep breath he released tickled your skin, but you weren’t going to let this go. As you forced your teeth just a bit deeper into his plush skin, Harry let his forehead fall against yours. 

His tongue neatly traced along your upper lip, and you thought it was in response to your actions. And this erroneous thought kept you from anticipating his next move. When Harry pushed one more finger in, your senses went mad, and the simple fact that he didn't give you too much time to adjust before he pushed a third finger in, rocked you completely. 

You moaned in return and arched your back.

"I got yeh, baby girl" he whispered softly, "Look at me, I got yeh, ok?"

After receiving an enthusiastic nod from you, Harry made his way down your body. This time, he swiftly shuffled to the side, pulling your legs together and riding you of the unnecessary piece of underwear you still had on.

Not waiting for him to take control, you spread your legs, and feasted on the carnal look he had in his eyes as he looked down at your body. He didn’t waste any time before finding the perfect spot between your legs. Your whole body shivered as he leaned his head to the side, his light stubble tickling its way down the inside of your thighs. 

And following the rough feeling of the still shy beard you didn’t think he was able to grow, when his soft lips brushed against your skin, you involuntarily clenched. You bucked your hips and your legs tried, but to no avail, to close the distance between one another. You wanted more - needed more. And he noticed it.

Looking down along your body, you could only see the top of his head. And his fingers, pressing into the skin of your legs. And the tip of his nose as he proceeded to tease you into oblivion with millions of kisses, each of them nothing less than heavenly, but still, nothing compared to what you knew was coming next. The only warning he gave you as a hurried grin, and it was nowhere near enough.

It was on. Elegantly, but with traces of dominance in his touch, and with two fingers, Harry spread your pussy wide open, his tongue lewdly slipping right inside you. The contact and the buildup made you gasp. Had you not been so over the moon and distracted already, you’d have heard him snicker in response to the sound you just made. But you were too caught up. You felt him on every inch of your body, and the signals your core were sending you, were not what you wanted.

You wanted this to last. To have him go at it, lapping at your core for hours. To feel his tongue wag until your senses went numb.It might have been the dry spell that was forced upon you as the pandemic overtook your life, or the timeless, painful crush you’ve had on him for years, but you were already on the edge.

Trying hard to make the moment last, you curled your pointer finger and shoved it into your mouth, biting down hard. Your back arched dangerously as your head flew back, but it all just worked in his favour. Your pleasure was building up, and the careful, experienced movement of Harry’s tongue against your clit was only gaining momentum.

“Yeh taste like fucking heaven but I think yeh already knew tha’” he said, for a second pulling away from your core and giving you a chance to catch your breath.

All you managed was a pathetic excuse of a nod, along with a shy roll of your eyes.

“None of tha’” Harry laughed, licking his lips, “Don’t care how close yeh are, ‘m not gonna stop until yeh moan my name, love”

“Jesus christ, Harry!” you panted, shaking your head.

He responded in a similar manner, and again, with no warning whatsoever, he went back in. This short break allowed you to regain your composure, even if it was just a tiny bit. Your excitement, although still there and just as consuming, was easier to control now. You felt his touch all throughout your body, his tongue tickling all your senses.

What brought you closer into the moment was the feeling of his hands, as he grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs up onto his shoulders. For whatever reason, this felt even more intimate, and as his fingers sank into your flesh, you felt your engines start up again.

The delicate flicks of his tongue were getting more and more aggravated by the second, and now it was close to impossible to keep calm. Sweaty palms gripping tirelessly into the cushions under you, your back under constant strain, your eyes squeezed shut - he had you entirely.

And as if that wasn’t enough, he went further. Harry pushed one finger inside of you, moving his lips up to fully concentrate on your clit. His tongue prepared you, got you all ready and wanting, and then, he wrapped his lips around your bundle of nerves and sucked - gently and with a minimal amount of pressure, but god-

“Fuck, Harry-” you called out. It was more of a cry, choked back in the depths of your throat, all breathy and muffled.

“Come on, angel” Harry whispered.

As you looked down, past your heaving chest, your eyes landed conveniently on the top of his head. Complete chaos - his unruly curls tickled the inside of your thighs, as his fingers dug into your flesh. The two rings he never takes off were sure to leave proud indents on your skin.

Harry sucked at your bundle of nerves, the eager touch of his tongue awakening absolutely every need inside your being. Add the experienced pumps of his fingers and the fact that this was Harry Styles and none other, and you were done.

With each passing second you started to lose more and more of the control you had on your body. Sweating nervously out of every pore of your body, you squirmed under his weight hoping you’d make the moment last.

“‘S good, love, isn’t it?” Harry smirked for just about a second, “I can see yeh, yeh’re a mess fo’ me”

“Fuck” you whined, covering your face with your right palm as your head tilted backwards, “Shut up”

“Oh!” Harry faked surprise, “Gettin’ cocky?”

As he spoke, Harry curled his fingers inside your pussy; maybe intentionally - maybe by chance, hitting all the right spots and making you moan out loud.

“I’ll take tha’ as an apology”

You scoffed.

Harry shook his head. When you looked down at him again, you caught him licking his lips. It was obvious he waited for you to catch him doing that.

Already at the edge of your self control, you curled your fingers into his hair, motioning for him to resume his work. He followed your lead without any complaints, and when his bottom teeth grazed your clit, even if it was light as a feather you lost it.

Your mind became numb, drunk on the pleasure he provided. Your eyes rolled back as you enjoyed every second of your high. Harry kept you spiraling, continuing to lap at your core as the muscles of your legs tensed uncontrollably around his frame.

“Holy fuck-” you breathed out, voice shaky and wounded.

He made sure to milk every ounce of pleasure out of your being, leaving you a heaving mess under his stare.

Harry pushed himself up, nonchalantly wiping his chin, his eyes not allowing yours to look away.

As you gathered yourself and worked on bringing your breathing back to normal, there was only one thought going on inside your head - that it would only be fair if you reciprocate the gesture. Thinking about it was enough to make your core buzz again, but you didn’t have it in you to bring it up, and instead hoped he’d show he wished things didn’t stop either.

But he didn’t.

However, you got to kiss him again. And no matter how badly you wanted to keep the atmosphere on fire, he had other plans. 

“Did I take good care of yeh?” Harry asked as he leaned down beside you. His hand found your cheek, keeping you in place for another longing kiss, “Did I do yeh right?”

You nodded against his lips, not willing to actually word the answer.

His chuckle made it clear that the point got through. And for a second it seemed as if the night wasn’t done. None of you was willing to pull away, and allowed the minutes to go by without a care in the world, lost in each other’s arms.

“Freakin’ love yeh, angel” Harry said.

It wasn’t the first time you’d hear this coming out of his mouth, but you couldn’t help but smile thinking this time it was meant in a different manner. You answered him by cuddling deeper into his chest, and that was a moment you wouldn’t have traded for the world.

And you fell asleep like that. No matter how big and luxurious your couch was, you still spent the night glued to one another. Harry felt every calm breath of yours on his skin and everytime he moved a bit to adjust his position, his hold tightened around you to make sure he wasn’t pushing you away.

After what was probably the best sleep you’d gotten in the whole year of 2020, morning came around. Actually it was lunch time, if we’re being generous. The sun was high up, proudly making its way into your living room, past the curtains to forgot to draw the other night.

When you awoke, Harry wasn’t there anymore. However, panic didn’t have the time to settle in as you heard movement coming from the kitchen, and the strong smell of coffee reached your nose in no time.

You got up from the couch, with herds of butterflies in your stomach. Harry’s words from last night still echoed in your head, and even now, with no alcohol in your system, they managed to bring goosebumps all over your skin.

“When did you get up?”

That was how you made your presence known.

Harry turned around with a smile on his face. He had a bag of avocados tucked under his arm, as he typed away on his phone. His undone pants were hanging onto his thighs for dear life, and the only other piece of fabric on his body was a thin, brown hair tie around his wrist. There were a few purple marks along his collar bones and his hair looked rougher than usual, things which deep down, shook you up a bit.

 “Wanted to take yeh out fo’ breakfast, but I gotta leave in like an hour, so I figured this should do”

“Yeah, yeah sure” you agreed, “It’s perfect”

“Would’ve done mo’, but Y/n, yeh have no food in this house”

You laughed, walking over to slump down into one of the chairs, “Didn’t get a chance to get any perishables”

“You got some” Harry chuckled, “You got weeks’ worth of everything you need to make guacamole and pancakes”

“I have no idea how that happened, those will spoil” you shook your head, “You can take some of them actually”

“Or I could just come over”

“Even better”

The food was ready in no time. Harry had everything done and set while you washed up a bit, and after that, you both sat down to eat. Minimal and light, but still, there was a weight in the pit of your stomach.

“About last night-” Harry began to say, but you tried to stop him.

“You don’t have to-”

“We kinda do, love” he smiled, “I need to apologise, angel”

You squinted your eyes, “For?”

“I don’t really have t’ apologise fo’ what I said because I meant every word” Harry slowly said, as if he has a hard time putting his thoughts together, “I jus’ wish I hadn’t said it like tha’ though”

“Like what?” you questioned, a bit lost.

“Like I had the right to say that kind of crap” he laughed. It was nervous laughter, like he was afraid of what was coming next, “I do fucking love yeh, but I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted to hear that”

“What are you talking about, I don’t understand” you groaned, growing a bit tired of the impatience he brought upon you.

“You’re my best friend, ok?” he sighed, “That’s all we are, Y/n, and that was not supposed to happen”

The food got lodged in your throat, and you felt like if you didn’t stand up, you’d no longer be able to breathe. “It was your idea” you scoffed.

Harry’s eyes followed your frame, but he remained seated, “I know”

“So what changed? If anything even changed. I don’t understand what the problem is. You regret we did what we did-”

“I don’t regret anything” Harry butted it.

“You said it was not supposed to happen!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes as you walked over to the sink, just to make yourself useful and to stop just standing in front of him.

“The things I said to you-” he said sternly, pushing his chair back and throwing his hands into the air, “I shouldn’t have said those, ok? It doesn’t matter who meant what, I told you things that-”

“What did you tell me that’s bothering you so much?” you almost yelled, annoyance dripping out of your pores. You walked over to him, and he closed the distance by standing up.

“I-” Harry stuttered, playing with his hair to buy himself some more time. “All the-”

“What?” you pushed, “That you like everything about me? That’s what you regret saying? And what else?”

“God” he groaned, “I don’t regret saying tha’, it’s just tha’ it wasn’t my place to say it”

You fell silent.

“If I were you... I’d want to hear those things from someone that is more than just a friend to me” he confessed.

“And you can’t be that to me? More than a friend?”

After a few seconds of painful silence, realization hit him, “Y/n…”

He did reach out. He took a step towards you but you stepped back. The remorse in his tone was too painful to ignore. So you moved away from him and slowly made your way out of the kitchen.

“Y/n!” Harry called, following you.

“Just go”

“Please...”

“Please what?” you shook your head, but he didn’t have the words you needed to hear.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s fucking fine” you sighed, walking backwards towards your room, “Just show yourself out”

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Pregnant!Female!Reader) pt. 12

Cult girl deals with an unexpected and unwelcome guest.

@wisesandwichshark @pearlstiare

Trigger warnings: pregnancy, emotional manipulation, emotional abuse, infidelity, threats of violence

Step three: kill Anna

So maybe there was an understanding that the pregnancy was to be kept secret from Anna.

The withdrawal of Archie and Max from the picture left a hole in the plan. Just when it looked like you had secured that much-needed victory, it shriveled up and died right before your eyes. That much was certain. Everything else was a big question mark.

Ever since he felt the baby kicking, Hannibal became even more hopelessly enamored with the idea of being a father. He never mentioned it, of course, but it was there. It was there in the way he cooed at your stomach and how his hand lingered after he felt a kick. He was in heaven.

For a few days, it looked like the downward trajectory was beginning to flatten. Then you remembered your favorite line from Ryan Reynolds' Deadpool:

"Life is an endless series of trainwrecks with only brief, commercial-like breaks of happiness." You repeated to yourself as your phone flashed Theresa's call icon.

It took you a minute to remember that Theresa in your phone was actually Anna, because you hadn't bothered to change it. In a way, it was symbolic. Theresa was the head you cut off, and Anna sprouted up in her place. All in the pursuit of making your life unbearable.

You pulled the toothbrush from your mouth and placed it next to the sink. Lazily, you brought the phone to your ear. "What?"

"Hey pretty girl!" Anna said, using her most transparently fake cheery voice. "How's it going?"

Then it clicked. You felt kind of stupid that you didn't see it coming. In the world of cults, this was known as 'lovebombing'; a manipulation tactic in which the cult leader showers their target with affection, compliments, validation or anything that would make them associate good feelings with the group. In any other context, it would be called 'ass-kissing'.

You narrowed your eyes in skepticism. "What do you want?"

"Jeez, who crapped in your corn flakes?" She scoffed. "Can't a girl just call her little sister to say hi?"

It would have been one thing to say 'cousin', which, despite your bad blood, would have been technically accurate. But 'sister' was crossing a line. The blood that binded you and Anna together was thinner than water.

"We're not sisters, Anna." You corrected. "Why are you calling?"

"I just wanted to let you know that all is forgiven." She said, slipping back into that phony cheerful tone. "That little fiasco at the funeral, it's water under the bridge."

What Anna didn't know was that the water under the bridge was never water, but gasoline. Every drop that flowed under that bridge only created a more dangerous blaze for when you finally burned it down.

"Awesome." You said, flatly.

"I also wanted to say, 'may the best woman win'." She jeered. "I don't want to alarm you, but Liam and I have been fucking like bunnies."

You gagged. "I'm not alarmed but I certainly didn't need to know that."

"I've been keeping track of my ovulation," She disregarded your objection and continued the conversation she wanted to have. "And I even put child locks on the computer so Liam can't watch porn. Can't spare even a drop, y'know. It's too crucial."

"I will literally let you have the entire inheritance if you please just shut up right now." You said through gritted teeth.

"Oh?" She perked up. "Come on, don't give up. Don't make it too easy. Winning is just more fun when someone else loses."

She was growing into her Theresa shoes quite well.

"Seriously, though," You raised your eyebrows. "If it means I never have to see you again, by all means. Take the damn money."

"You know I love you, right?" Anna blurted out, pretending to be offended. "You may not think so, but I love you like a sister."

Again, you fought the urge to feel bad for her. Her model of sisterly love was Theresa. She could use the word to invoke sympathy, but would never know what it meant. It hit your ear exactly the same as when fundamentalist christian strangers said they loved you and that's why they were harassing you. Just an empty annoyance.

You rolled your eyes. "Goodbye, Anna."

"Wait!" She shouted as if she was about to die.

You threw your head back in exasperation. "What?!"

"I wanted to give you a little good-luck gift." She said.

You were slightly interested. "Oh?"

"Yes." She answered. "Can I swing by and drop it off later?"

You sighed. "Whatever. As long as you make it fast."

You were most certainly noticeably pregnant, but a fluffy robe obscured any misplaced curves just enough. You just hoped she wouldn't ask why you were wearing a fluffy robe in July. Anna arrived at the house, with Liam, who was holding a small basket of colorful jars and bottles.

You waited a minute to see if she would just leave the basket on the porch, but she didn't. You resignedly opened the door.

"[F/N]!" She shouted with that hyper-enthusiastic smile. You cringed, trying not to let her presence trigger your morning sickness.

The smile disappeared from her face. "Jesus H, you look like hell."

You desperately wanted to inform her that it was the strain of growing a human inside your body, but you held your tongue and thought of an excuse.

"I'm hungover." You said. Yeah, that would work.

"The usual, I see." Anna snipped at you under her breath.

You eyed the basket. You didn't even bother to mask your disappointment when you realized it wasn't food. "What's this?"

"Oh, this?" Anna said as if she were starting a sales pitch. "This is my olive branch. My exclusive DoTERRA fertility rejuvenation kit."

Your brain refused to process that Anna had been sucked in to an MLM, as it was really only a matter of time. You just didn't think it would take this long.

"Dude, you're twenty-nine and I'm twenty-six." You narrowed your eyes at her. "What on earth are we rejuvenating?"

She pointed to a collection of little bottles. "So these are for the initial cleanse. Put a few drops of this in your food, and some of this in your bathwater-"

She rattled on with practiced certainty about the fictitious health benefits of thyme and geranium oils, how they promote fertility and whatnot.

"Thanks, Anna." You cut her off, reaching for the gift basket. You didn't intend to use any of it, but you could pawn it off on some struggling hunbot for less than they would buy it new.

Anna pulled the basket out of your reach. "Oh. I wasn't giving it to you."

Nothing surprised you anymore, and this was no exception. "I thought you said it was a gift?"

"Oh, god no." She shook her head. "This whole kit costs, like, five hundred dollars."

You grimaced. "So you came here to show me your snake oil collection?"

"I came here to tell you in person about this amazing business opportunity." She said, returning to her fake smile. "For just $1000, you can be part of this amazing company-"

"Anna, what am I studying right now?" You cut her off.

She looked at you with round, clueless eyes. She looked back at Liam for help. He tapped his head to give her a hint.

"I want to say..." her voice trailed off. "...brain surgery?"

You shook your head. "No. Liam?"

"Clinical psychology with a specialization in cults." He answered. "You want to be the next Steven Hassan."

Anna didn't deserve Liam.

"So you're saying you're too smart for me?" Anna said, crossing her arms. "You're too busy going to your fancy college, living with your fancy boyfriend to support your own sister's hustle?"

"I'm saying you're in a cult." You countered. "A pretty obvious one, at that."

"Oh, when your only solution is a hammer every problem looks like a nail." She scoffed. "You think everything is a cult. Why can't you just be happy for me?"

"I'll be happy for you when you accomplish something that isn't built off the backs of people you fucked over." You said, allowing yourself to finally snap.

Anna's jaw hung open. "Do I even need to gesture to this house? Those clothes? That degree? All paid for by your rich boyfriend."

It's time.

You stepped on to the porch and shut the door behind you. "Liam. I have something to tell you."

Liam handed the basket off to Anna and approached. "Alright."

"No she doesn't, Liam." Anna objected. "Don't listen to her. You know she's a liar."

"Liam." You said, looking into his eyes. "Do you remember Nathan Sparks?"

"Anna's ex from college?" Liam folded his arms and looked at his wife. "Vaguely."

Anna gritted her teeth at you. "I swear to fucking god, [F/N]-"

"Anna, stop." Liam cut her off. "Let her speak."

"Anna continued to see him for two years after you got together." You smirked.

Liam's dial-up internet brain sputtered to life.

"Oh my god." His mouth hung open. "...is he 'pineapple'?!"

"Nope." You said. "You are."

"Is this true, Anna?" Liam said, in the overlap between denial and anger. "Did you keep seeing Nathan after we got together?"

Anna threw the basket on the ground, jars shattering, releasing a noxious cloud of concentrated snake oil. She was too busy glaring daggers at you to answer her husband.

"Fine. Don't tell me." He spat, turning back to you. "I'll hear it from you, [F/N]. You're the only one in this family who's been honest with me."

"She only wanted to get with you because your uncle is CEO of that publishing house." You added. You felt bad for essentially rubbing salt in the wound, but he was right to assume he wouldn't hear it from anyone else.

He placed his hand over his head as if to nurse a migrane. "How could I be so stupid..."

"Liam-" Anna said, her voice jumping a few octaves.

Liam put up his hand. "I don't want to hear it."

"I'm sorry, Lee." You offered. Even though you loved seeing Anna caught, you felt bad for every person she victimized along the way. Liam was no exception.

He dropped his shoulders and sighed. "Thank you, [F/N]. I'll be out of your way, now. Anna--"

He stopped himself, presumably to avoid saying something he would regret. "...find your own way home."

He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away, leaving Anna with you.

"Thanks for coming." You sneered at her, feeling around behind you for the door handle. "I'd call an uber if I were you."

"You twisted bitch." She scowled, hands hovering in your direction. "You just get off on ruining people's lives, don't you?"

"Oof, that's some serious projection, Anna." You said, unconsciously untying the belt of your robe and pulling it off your shoulders.

"You're-" She sputtered, her eyes growing to the size of personal pizzas. "You're fucking pregnant?!"

Shit. You thought, cycling through whatever braincells you had left for an idea of how to play this off as if you meant to do it.

"Surprise." You shrugged. Yeah, that would work.

"That's impossible!" She stammered. "You're- you're not even married!"

"Grandma never said anything about marriage." You grinned.

Anna struggled to find her words. "That is unfair!"

"So now that you're not winning, the game is unfair?" You raised an eyebrow.

She pursed her lips and pointed at you. "You aren't going to get away with this."

"Just like you didn't get away with cheating on your husband?" You taunted.

"I'm serious, [F/N]." Anna said, backing down the porch steps. "I will destroy everything you love just like you did to me."

For a half a second, the voice in your head told you to beware, that the threat should be taken seriously. Upon remembering it was coming from Anna, you pushed the thought from your mind.

You shouldn't have.

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Chapter 7

⚠️WARNING: Mentions of previous characters' deaths, swearing, mention of unhealthy coping mechanism

• ────── ✾ ────── •

You gasp as you wake up, your eyes attempting to discern anything in the dark.

What the…

Not even two seconds ago you were playing volleyball back in the Aoba Johsai gymnasium. It was a silly two on three game, Oikawa and Mattsun vs you, Makki and -

Oh.

Oh.

Tears well up in your eyes, fast and hot. They flow down the side of your face, into your hair and the pillow. You do nothing to stop them, crushed by the sudden wave of sadness.

It was a dream. It was a freaking dream.

You’re alone in your apartment in the middle of the night. You’re a college student at Sendai Uni. You don’t play volleyball.

And Hajime is dead.

The sobs come out unconstrained, as you were too heartbroken to try to stop them. How could you, as it was the only way for you to let out the sorrow and anguish coursing through your blood right now.

C’mon Y/N, get yourself together. You will yourself to calm down, getting the sobs to subside. The tears don’t slow though, as you sit up to grab some tissues from your bedside table. You clean yourself up, sniffling and grabbing your phone.

It’s only just past 1am, and you can’t fathom the idea of falling back asleep. Not when there’s the chance of you falling back into that dream. Not when you can be fooled into thinking that you’re playing volleyball, still trying to receive Oikawa’s serves and laughing when Hajime yells at Makki to take this seriously -

Your eyes well up with fresh tears and you clutch a tissue to your mouth to muffle the cries that want to escape.

The only thing you’re sure about right now is that you don’t want to be alone. You can’t be alone, you just can’t.

You unlock your phone but staring at your screen you don’t know who you can call.

Ok, that’s not true. You have a lot of people you can call. Your parents, Oikawa, Mattsun, Makki, hell even your therapist gave you her cellphone to call if you need her. And you know that all of those people wouldn’t hesitate to listen to you and help you.

But do you want to call any of them?

This isn’t a life or death situation, and you don’t feel like you are a danger to yourself so it would be irresponsible to call your therapist. It’s the middle of the night and your parents still work so you don’t want to wake them up.

That leaves your friends, the people who honestly could still be awake and maybe even wanting to talk to someone. But Makki has Mattsun, and vice versa. Which would leave Oikawa, but honestly? He’s been more than unbearable lately, and you’ve been walking on eggshells around him, scared that anything you say will set him off.

So you’re here, laying in your bed with no one to call. And the one person that you desperately want to call is dead.

Sniffling again and wiping the fresh tears from your eyes you pull up your texts. Maybe you can send a funny meme to Makki and start a meme war - it’ll take your mind off your current predicament at least. But your eyes fall to the chat you have with Osamu, close to the top of your messages.

Huh, you didn’t really think of him.

Not that you wouldn’t want to talk to Osamu. He’s actually very funny, with his dry humor and easy banter. Your friendship, despite its more than unusual beginning, has blossomed into something you’ve come to cherish.

But you can’t bother him with this, no no. You guys can, and have, confide in each other about your struggles and your complicated feelings and emotions. But it’s mainly been small bits and pieces shared over coffee.

But it couldn’t hurt to text him, no?

You wouldn’t say anything about your dream. Maybe you can find a funny meme to send him, or ask a question about lunch tomorrow.

You methodically type out your message, finding a meme to almost perfectly capture your mood (but not too accurately.)

You send the text before talking yourself out of it. It wouldn’t surprise you if Osamu didn’t text you back - it’s late (or early, depending on your opinion) and he should be sleeping.

You sigh deeply, finding yourself back in square one. Square one plus a stuffy nose, aching head and absolutely broken heart. You close out of the messaging app and decide to find some show to binge while you wait for the sun to rise.

Your phone begins vibrating and you’re surprised to see what comes across your screen.

Osamu doesn’t text you back. He calls you.

You pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“I hope that photo isn’t a subtle request to have me come over and cook for ya.” The soft, calm voice coming through the phone makes your chest tighten. It brings a wave of relief because you’re not alone but drowns you in guilt at inconveniencing your friend.

You clear your throat and sniffle. “No, sorry.” Your voice cracks and you wince at how obvious it is that you were just crying.

Osamu picks up on your current state. “Hey, are ya alright?”

He sounds so concerned, the teasing lilt in his voice instantly dropped. Your eyes start to water again and you can’t stop the sob that escapes your lips in time.

“Hey, Y/N are ya okay? Where are you, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” you croak out. Your voice sounds horrible, extremely hoarse and tight as you try not to let more sobs spill out. Gritting your teeth helps keep them at bay but it does nothing to stop the flow of tears. You sniffle, loud.

“Where are you? Are you in danger?”

“No, no. I’m at my apartment. I’m okay.” You take in a shaky breath, sniffling again and clearing your throat. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“It’s okay,” Osamu replies. He doesn’t sound as frantic as he did before but you can detect the worry in his voice. “I was still up so it’s no bother. I don’t even know why I called honestly. I think I just wanted to see what ya were doin’ up.”

“It’s fine, you can call me whenever,” you reply earnestly. “I….just had a dream.”

A split second of hesitation is all you’re allowed to mentally scream at yourself for breaking the one condition you set when you decided to text Osamu. “A dream?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. “Yeah, and I’m sorry for bugging you because it’s not fair to you but I just have to tell someone or else I feel like I’m going to fucking suffocate. I know I should just call my friends but they don’t want to hear me go on and on and -”

“Hey, hey Y/N. Calm down and take a breath.” You listen to Osamu, taking a pause to breathe. Your head is now throbbing painfully and your throat feels wretched. “What was yer dream about?”

“I was playing volleyball with my friends and...Hajime.” You are silently screaming at yourself. You were not going to do this to Osamu, you were not going to burden your friend, who is already facing struggles of his own, with your problems.

But...he did ask what your dream was about.

“We were playing volleyball together,” you go on. “And it felt so real, like one minute I was in the middle of a play and the next I was waking up in my bed, searching for the ball. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was all a dream, and, and,” your breath hitches again and you feel more sobs bubbling out. Again you feel the grief take control of your body and you start crying.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay Y/N.” Osamu is trying to soothe you but it’s not doing much to calm you down. If anything the added reassurance was making you cry harder “It’s okay.”

It’s not okay. It’s so far from okay that you can’t even imagine how you would get to okay.

“I’m sorry,” you sob. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Ya don’t hafta apologize,” Osamu replies. “Just let it out, Y/N.”

Oh boy, do you let it out. You cry and cry, curled up in a ball in your bed, lamenting the loss of your best friend and trying not to drown even more in your sorrow.

But you’re not alone, really. There’s not another person in the apartment with you, but you have Osamu on the phone right now. He’s reaching out to you, reaching through the dark and trying to get to you.

You’re not alone.

You feel the sobs subsiding as your breathing returns to normal. Your entire head is throbbing, you have no chance of breathing out of your nose and your eyes are painfully dry.

“Are ya alright?”

“Yeah,” you rasp out. “I’m sorry again, for that.”

“Ya don’t ever have to apologize to me,” Osamu says immediately. His insistence brings a small smile to your face. “If ya ever need to talk about yer dreams or anything, that’s what I’m here for.”

“Thank you,” you reply. Your voice is nasally but you try to get as much sincerity in it as possible.

“Of course, and ya can call whenever. I don’t sleep so there’s a good chance ya’ll catch me anytime.”

You pause in wiping your face with your tissues as you take in what Osamu is telling you. “You don’t…sleep?”

“Nah.” Osamu's nonchalant answer makes your cock your head in confusion. “I don’t think I can remember the last time I actually slept through an entire night.”

“So,” you pause, still not comprehending. “What do you…do?”

“I do my homework, I’ve got a job at the convenience store and I usually work the night shift. Sometimes I read or binge watch a new show.” He laughs. “Usually every three or four days I just pass out for 14 hours or so, and then repeat.”

“Osamu,” you chastise. “That’s not healthy.”

He laughs again but it’s not the light chuckle from before - it’s a hollow laugh with a hard edge. “Yeah, well it stops me from havin’ the kind of dreams yer havin’. The kind where I forget that my brother is dead.”

You’re taken aback from the harshness in Osamu’s voice. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sound like that. It could be considered in the same category as his usual tone - dry, sarcastic and nearly apathetic. But his regular tone is part of his sense of humor and how you two converse. You’ve never felt unease from those conversations, but now you do.

“And ya know what's worse than those little dreams?” Osamu doesn’t wait for input. “The worst is when I’m not even asleep and my stupid brain will give me random reminders from when my brother was alive. Like ‘don’t forget to wake up early and shower before Atsumu uses all the hot water!’ Or,” Osamu takes in a harsh breath, the noise making your phone speaker crackle. “Or the reminder to grab another sports drink at the store for Atsumu because he’s a scrub but he’s my brother and I love him. Or to save the mushrooms from my dinner even though they’re gross but Atsumu will trade his broccoli for them.”

Osamu blasts on, speaking fervently. Someone listening in would think he’s mad at you, but you know his frustration isn’t directed at you.

“But then I remember that I live alone, and I don’t need two bottles of sports drink and my plate is full of fucking mushrooms for no god damn reason.”

“And then, after feeling like the world’s biggest idiot for forgetting that my own twin brother is dead, I remember how alone I am.” He lets out another laugh, but it’s not light nor is it bitter. It’s worse, full of self-deprecation and pain.

You wait with bated breath, waiting for any sign on life through the phone. But when Osamu speaks, a small, broken voice comes through the line and nearly breaks your heart.

“It’s like - finding a life raft in the middle of the ocean but when you get to it it’s just a bundle of seaweed - it gets me every time.”

You inhale quietly. You want to reassure him but you can’t find the right words to say.

You can’t, because you know exactly how it feels.

The cold hard truth is that Iwaizumi Hajime is dead. There is nothing in the world that can bring him back, and there is nothing you can do to change that fact. Some days you can accept this fact easier than others.

On the easy days you feel most like yourself carrying a small rock. The weight of Hajime’s death will be something you will always carry with you. But on those easy days you can slip the rock in your pocket or hold it in your hand and carry on through life.

On the hard days it takes way more effort to lug the boulder around. You don’t know if you should drag it, heft it over your shoulder, tie a rope around it and yank hard. Sometimes you’re left to your own devices, sometimes your therapist or your parents can tell you the best way to carry it. Even your friends have stepped in to help you carry it, despite their own rocks to hold.

But the absolute worst days are the ones where you lose the rock, but you haven’t realized it. Where are you going to find it? In your pocket? Your bag? Will you trip over it?

Or will it come crashing down on you like an asteroid hellbent on wiping you out?

And it’s not even the impact that’s the worst part! Sure, this asteroid comes down on you with enough force to kill you, but the shockwave is what really destroys you.

When you have those moments when you forget that your Hajime is dead, the realization of his nonexistence is the asteroid’s impact on you. The cruel realization that his nonexistence is permanent for the remainder of your life is the shockwave.

This cruel one-two punch is devastating. It knocks you down and out, merciless in it’s destruction.

For what it’s worth, Osamu’s solution to dodging that one-two punch is not terrible, although it will have major consequences for his body and mind that he will have to face someday. But you can’t blame him for doing something to avoid the heavy blow.

It does destroy. It does make you feel like you’re drowning. It does nearly kill you.

“Ah, I think she fell asleep.” You’ve been quiet for so long that Osamu thinks you’ve fallen asleep on the phone.

“No, I'm here.” You murmur. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Ah, a dangerous pastime.” Osamu jokes, but it doesn’t quite land. Could be from his full disclosure or from the strained laugh he gives at the end of the sentence.

“It is,” you agree. “But I was thinking about what you said.” He doesn’t respond, letting you continue. “And I just wanted to say...I get it.”

There’s silence on the other end. It’s so quiet that you fear for a second that Osamu has hung up the phone in anger, or maybe he’s drifted off to sleep. But then you hear another breathy exhale, a laugh from a person who is the furthest from laughing.

“Ya know Y/N? I think you’re the only person who does.”

You exhale and close your eyes. You find it hard to open them back up, pure exhaustion taking over your body.

“We’re still on for lunch tomorrow, right?”

“Of course,” Osamu answers. “But ya gotta rest now if ya wanna wake up in time for it.”

A small smile crosses your face. “Sure. Promise me you’ll try to get some sleep too?”

A noncommittal hum is the answer you receive, not ideal but you don’t push him. You feel brittle and fragile, and you’re sure he’s the same.

“Osamu, thank you.” You want to convey how thankful you are, not only that he called you tonight but for coming into your life at a time where you needed a friendly face. You know your gratitude doesn’t come close to covering the vast expanse of your gratefulness but you hope you’ll have time to show him.

“No worries, get some sleep. I’ll see ya tomorrow. Good night Y/N.”

“Good night Osamu.” Your eyes slip close, and you let yourself fall into a dreamless sleep.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: 😔😔 y’all this story is making me Big Sad and I wrote it. 🥲 Thank you so much for reading!!! I should probably mention that the time stamps in the chat and on the tweets and such are accurate - the story is moving right along!

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