#if you are sad she just silently pushes a cup of drink over to you

[binah-beloved]

you learn how to brew Binah's favorite tea perfectly, and in exchange she learns exactly how you prefer your favorite hot drink. even if it isn't tea

[hearts4renaa]

DON’T BE A STRANGER.

summary: seeing him for the first time after the breakup. featuring kaeya and xiao. (separately)

contains: angst, post-breakup, one mention of the holiday season, gender neutral reader with the use of “you” as a pronoun

a/n: did you miss me? happy holidays from rena 🫶 listen to scott street by phoebe bridgers while reading

Nothing screamed holiday celebrations more than a couple drinks with friends at Angel’s Share, and that’s exactly what Kaeya did. Unfortunately, you had the same idea, sitting at the bar and sipping on a drink. The breakup was still fresh in your mind, and you just needed someone to talk to. Was your ex’s brother the best therapist? Probably not, but Diluc was the closest thing you had to a friend right now.

“It’s just…bad timing, you know?” You rant off to Diluc, who patiently listens as he polishes the plethora of cups in front of him. “I shouldn’t be this upset, I know, but-“ The bell above the door rings from behind you, and chatter of the new customers fills your ears. One of them chuckles, and you feel your shoulder tense at the familiar voice. It was Kaeya. Diluc shoots you a sympathetic look as Kaeya and his friends stride right by your seat to a table in the corner. You go silent as your eyes direct themselves to your cup, but in your peripheries, you can see the silhouette of the man you once called yours.

Even seeing someone who looks remote similar to him makes your heart ache, so actually seeing him brought upon a different kind of pain. You know it wasn’t anyone’s fault and that sometimes things just aren’t meant to be, but you’re confident that you’ll never love someone the way you loved him. You know you’ll look for him in everyone you meet, and that’s what really hurts. Most of all, you know that the two of you will probably never get back together; but a small part of you can’t help but hope. You shake your head to get out of your thoughts.

You down the rest of your drink, tapping the glass back down onto the bar. “I’m gonna head out.” You mutter to Diluc. He nods in understanding.

Diluc calls to you on the way out. “Y/N.” You turn back to listen to him. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Your throat tightens up, and you can’t conjure up a response. You nod, giving him a sad smile. Your eyes automatically drift to Kaeya’s table, and you find that he was already looking at you. He swirls around the drink in his left hand, not paying attention to the conversation of this colleagues.

He nods his head and gives you a small smile, and that’s how you know it’s really over.

—

The storms in Liyue haven’t been very kind to you lately. The thunder claps are booming, and the rain never seems to stop. You find yourself walking into Wangshu Inn, dripping from the rain. Verr Goldet waves cheerfully as you walk in. “Y/N!” She greets. “Here’s a towel. It’s pouring out there.” She tosses a plush white towel your way. You nod gratefully, placing the towel over your shoulders. “Head on upstairs,” She tells you. “Xiao might be up there.” You feel your stomach twist into knots. He didn’t tell her?

The two of you had been broken up for two weeks now, and almost every night, you tear up just thinking about it. He pushed you away, claimed he did it to protect you. That he was too dangerous, too troubled, too much of all the wrong things to be deserving of your affection. Xiao’s head told him it was for the better, but his heart was screaming for him to never let you go. You ultimately accepted his decision, and with a heavy heart, you said goodbye. You simply nod at the inn owner’s words, biting your tongue and heading upstairs. You weren’t really going all the way up to where Xiao normally was - instead, you figured you’d just find a table and sit until the storm passed. You found a little nook against a window and let your shoulders ease as you relished in the shelter from the storm. Your mind wanders as the rhythmic “pitter-patter” of the rain lulls you. I wonder if Xiao’s really here-

“What are you doing here?”

The voice makes you jump. You whip your head around, and you’re met with Xiao’s face. Your eyes widen, and your mind frantically searches for something to say, but you aren’t fast enough. Xiao keeps talking. “Didn’t I tell you that it was dangerous being around me?”

You swallow thickly and stand up from your seat. “It’s pouring out there.” You tell him matter-of-factly. “I’m waiting for the storm to pass.” Xiao’s face is emotionless as his eyes simply scan over your face. You notice the grip on his polearm get tighter. What you don’t know is the way Xiao bit the inside of his cheek. He was foolish for even hoping that you might have come back to him.

His heart takes control of him and he feels himself spewing words he doesn’t mean. “Good.” He spits out. “Mortals have no business being around an adepti. If it were a perfect world, we would have never met in the first place.” His words sting a little more than you’d like to admit. Xiao regrets the words as soon as they leave him mouth, and it felts painful for him to see the pain flash across your face. There is so much he wishes he could say to you. He turns away to leave, and you have to physically stop yourself from grabbing ahold of his cape.

“Xiao-“ His name falls from your lips before you can stop yourself. He doesn’t turn around, but he stops in his tracks. “Don’t be a stranger.” You whisper. He says nothing back. You blink, and he vanishes in an instant.

Only until after he leaves is when it really hits you: You will never say his name again.

[drefear]

The Lonely (Christina Perri)

Miguel X Reader

TW: drinking: getting drunk, implied smut, a lot of angst and sad feels

A/N: Y'all. the sad/angsty feels are wild rn. This can be read as a part two to Distance, or alone.

“2 a.m., where do I begin?

Crying off my face again”

The small pat of your bare footsteps against the hardwood floor of your apartment was barely audible as you snuck out of your own bedroom to your kitchen. Just a glass of water, that’s all you wanted, you told yourself. 

Really, you needed a second to clear your head, to not have Miguel’s arm draped over your body and suffocating your mind. You’d been going crazy recently, and you could barely function without thinking about him constantly. 

His beautiful presence was everywhere in your life. His scent was soaked into your sheets, his dominating personality was all anyone even spoke about in the Society, and when he wasn’t being spoken about or sleeping in your bed, he was buried deep within you and kissing the column of your throat. 

As you sipped the cool liquid, your eyes closed and you felt yourself get completely overwhelmed. You were drowning in your love for Miguel O’Hara. Tears streamed down your cheeks and onto his shirt that you had claimed as pajamas for the night. Resting the cup down on the countertop, you tried to catch your breath in between quiet sobs, completely unaware of Miguel listening and feeling his heart break from the other room. 

"The silent sound of loneliness

Wants to follow me to bed"

You slipped back under the covers and cuddled into him closer, but instead of holding you tight and refusing to let go like he normally did, he turned onto his other side and gave you his broad back. You didn’t think much of it, assuming he was still sound asleep, and tucked yourself into a comfortable position. 

"I'm a ghost of a girl that I want to be most

I'm the shell of a girl that I used to know well"

Miguel watched you become a stranger, pushing you away after that night. He distanced himself to avoid breaking your heart even more than he already had, not wanting to be the reason you cried anymore. 

His chest felt like it would concave into itself if he spent one more day avoiding eye contact with you, one more day without holding those perfect hips and kissing those rosy cheeks. He felt like without you, he was dying, but he’d rather die than hurt you. 

"Dancing slowly in an empty room

Can the lonely take the place of you?"

You were lost. Had you done something wrong? You almost always ended up having him follow you home and sleep over that night, sharing passion and fire with one another after a lost, frustrating day of saving the multiverse. 

But recently, he’d completely ignored you. He’d barely grunt a hello at work, then not even answering your texts and finally giving you back the spare key you had given him when you started this unspoken arrangement. You found it in your locker during some basically training and working out, feeling as if you’d actually gotten sucker punched in the stomach at the very sight. 

What had you done? 

"I sing myself a quiet lullaby

Let you go and let the lonely in to take my heart again"

Days became weeks, and you began spiraling into curiosity. You’d asked Lyla what was going on with Miguel, and she always answered with a shrug. 

But now she’d said something that made your skin crawl. 

He was seeing someone. 

And that’s how you ended up wondering your own apartment in sweat pants and a too-big band shirt. Hair a mess, mascara streaks down your face, you laid back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, feeling a numbness take presidency over your heart. The world felt cold to you, almost bitter as a tingle ran through your muscles. It was like you weren’t in your body anymore as you put pieces together. 

You two weren’t together, he didn’t owe you anything and vice versa, but it would have been nice to hear it from him instead of his AI assistant. 

"Too afraid to go inside

For the pain of one more loveless night"

This made you finally stop reporting to the Society, giving your watch to Ben and staying home. You abandoned your duties as Spider-woman, deciding to leave everything that reminded you of Miguel behind. There were plenty of other super heroes, they could handle it. You just wanted to float in space, not having to feel the emotions you have been stranded with. 

"But the loneliness will stay with me

And hold me 'til I fall asleep"

More time passed as you refused to leave your apartment, hugging your knees as you shook from your sobs. You were heartbroken, your bedsheets still smelling like his cologne and musk. You couldn’t eat or sleep, you could barely shower, everything felt wrong. 

"I'm the ghost of a girl that I want to be most

I'm the shell of a girl that I used to know well"

One night, after doing your constant crying like you’d been doing for a few weeks now, you saw yourself in the mirror and actually jumped a little. You didn’t recognize yourself, dark bags under your red, glassy eyes, face completely chapped and flustered from crying so much, lips bitten and a little bloody from trying to stifle the painful whimpers. 

You were a stranger to yourself now. 

"Dancing slowly in an empty room

Can the lonely take the place of you?"

You began to start playing music as you cried, trying not to drown in your sorrows. One night, you’d decided to go out and try to be in the world again. At a bar, the jukebox played love songs over and over, prompting you to throw back many shots as you wanted to cloud the music from your ears. It was a terrible idea, you knew, but you couldn’t help it after how much you’d missed him. 

This drunk state caused you to end up dancing alone at closing and being gently escorted out of the bar, then walking home. Entering your quaint little apartment was the saddest feeling you’d felt in a long time. 

You’d been so heartbroken that you went out and got drunk by yourself. What had gotten into you? But the truth was, you didn’t completely mind because the alcohol made you at least think less.

"I sing myself a quiet lullaby

Let you go and let the lonely in

To take my heart again"

Music flowed throughout your place as you found more comfort in a bottle of red wine. Spinning, you mumbled the words and took a large swig of the contents. A knock on your door made you wobble to answer it and swinging it open, you were greeted with a confused but familiar face. 

The pregnant spider woman stood opposite from you. As you tilted your head and asked about her coming here, she just scanned you and understood your drunken state a bit more. 

"Broken pieces of a barely breathing story"

Jess sat you down and tried taking the bottle from your grasp, but you were fast and chugged the rest of its liquid. Laying back on your couch, you stared at that same ceiling you’d gazed at after finding out the painful truth from Lula, your eyes filling once more and bursting out frantically. Jess’s hand rubbed your back as you babbled about your feelings, barely coherent as you drunkenly cried to her. The next morning was almost as painful as the previous night, as you tossed up the contents of your evening into your toilet while Jess held your hair. She clarified that everyone was worried about you, and that your presence was missed at the Society. You shook your head, saying you were no longer who you once were. 

She left soon after, leaving behind a certain gizmo and asking you to rethink it. 

"Where there once was love

Now there's only me and the lonely"

You played out in your bed, still breathing in the lingering smell of Miguel on your pillow, and crying once more. This time, though, you screamed out loudly and let yourself wail without holding anything back or numbing the pain. You clutched that pillow to your chest as you soaked it, black makeup rubbing into the material as you shoved your face into the cushion. 

"Dancing slowly in an empty room

Can the lonely take the place of you?

I sing myself a quiet lullaby

Let you go and let the lonely in

To take my heart again"

The lonesome nights were never the same, until a familiar tap at your window made you jerk up. You shifted, finally thinking you might have lost your mind and we’re hallucinating until you saw a shadow at your fire escape. Opening it up, you saw the hulking figure of the man you’d let in so many times before. 

Your eyes scanned him over, and his did the same. You looked so tired, so drained, and he hated the sight of you this way. He climbed through your window and into your apartment, towering over you and watching you carefully, unsure of how you’ll react. 

You let out a breathy whimper and he couldn’t control himself anymore, his arms reaching out and pulling you to him, practically crushing you into his chest as you let out the pain and cried without hesitation. Hearing your upset that he had caused by pushing you away, lying to Lyla and making you want to leave, he fell to his knees and buried his face into the soft plush of your tummy, your arms wrapping around his head and pulling him into you. He gripped your biceps and spoke with a shaky voice. 

“I’m so sorry…”

@liz96893

[irlrachelamber]

BITTERSUITE - PREVIEW

Ellie Williams x ExGf!Reader

preview for my upcoming fic " BITTERSUITE " ,, based on Billie Eilish's new album / songs.

" , but I gotta be careful ,"

She was standing at my door. Her entire body was shaking and soaking wet, and she looked at me with an expression of sadness. I looked back at her, my heart breaking at the sight of Ellie standing at my doorstep once again, like she had been earlier this morning. I swore to myself I'd never see her again in this position, her most vulnerable and my most sensitive. Her green eyes meeting my blue ones. I couldn't believe I was letting her in. I just gotta be careful..

" ... gotta watch what I say... "

Her sombre eyes watched as I brought her over a towel. She took it in her hands and said a quiet thank you before throwing it over herself. I sat in front of her, my eyes piercing into her own. She was shivering violently and avoiding all forms of communication between us. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. All I was left with was air. She shifted her weight from side to side as she tried to make herself warmer. Her hands were clasped together in a ball, her fingers crossed over one another.

" Do you want a hot chocolate?"

" God, I hope it all goes away.. "

I placed the mug on the coffee table in front of her. She nodded and picked it up, her hands immediately wrapping around the ceramic. She blew on it a few times and smiled down at the liquid contents before drinking some. I continued to look at her. I realised she wasn't wearing the outfit I saw her in this morning. Her t-shirt was ripped and fraying at all sides, the soles of her shoes were breaking apart, and her jeans had even bigger holes in them. I studied her face as she drank the beverage, her eyes all bloodshot from what looked like crying. The thunder struck from outside the house, and she violently jerked, her face striken with fear. I looked outside, watching the trees sway from side to side in the wind.

"God I hope it all goes away, huh?"

I said to her, turning away from the window and to her curled up figure. She nodded and cleared her throat, giving me the cup.

"Yeah I hope so."

" 'Cause I can't fall in love with you.. "

"Ellie. Why are you here?"

I said, my arms crossed over each other. She looked up at me, her eyes darting around. She sighed and stood up gently.

"I wanted to say that i-"

"If you wanted to say you were sorry, you would've done that earlier when you came and got your shit."

She looked at me stunned, her mouth hung open.

"You know I'm really sorry. I didn't know that she was gonna kiss me at that party."

I felt a rage burn right through me as she spoke. She spoke as if it wasn't her fault, as if she didn't cheat and enjoy it.

"Oh Ellie, you and Dina did a lot more than just kiss. You fucking know that."

I spat, pointing my finger in her face. I could feel my blood running cold as she stuttered, trying to make up and excuse.

"Cmon babe. You're being dramatic, it was a party!"

"Yeah, but if I was there, would've Dina and you fucked?"

She stood silent, her face rested in a soft frown. I felt tears run down my cheeks, and I let out a stifled sob from my chapped lips.

"Everyone was right. I should've never picked you up on that offer to go out for coffee."

"Oh stop being pathetic, you don't mean that. Please. I'll make it up to you, it'll be like we fell in love all over again!"

I stood up angrily and pushed her too the door.

"Ellie, I wish I could but I can't fall in love with you again."

(c) irlrachelamber 2024

[lokislastlove]

Rules and Regulations (Dark!Bucky x Reader)

Summary: You’re a bartender at an A-lister club with a very powerful admirer.

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, cuckolding, humiliation, mention of a plug, but if pet play, fingering, oral, sex… probably more but I suck at listing this shit.

Note: So life has been rough and my writing is slow going. Honestly surprised I managed to do this at all. Hope it doesn’t suck. This is Bucky from my ever-expanding Avenger Football AU. ❤️ ~4k

“Come on,” he whines endearingly. “This has to be my hundredth time asking you for a dance in the past week. You have to have breaks sometime.”

He sets both elbows on the bar and leans over the counter as far as he can, desperate to get closer to you. You try to fight the smile. He’s cute, sweet, and persistent.

Since the first time he came in and ordered a drink from you he was hooked. Every night since he has bypassed the sea of scantily clad women in order to sit at the bar and flirt with you, seemingly unbothered by the long gaps when you get busy and have to ignore him. You know you shouldn’t but you find yourself checking often if he’s still there. When you do, he catches your eye and you have to bite your lip to temper your grin.

You let out a deep sigh and he reaches out to catch your hand before you can pick up the next glass to dry, “come on. Just one dance. Please?”

Your eyes fix on his long fingers resting softly across yours, thumb brushing over your suddenly very sensitive knuckles. You feel your cheeks burn and look up into his big dark round eyes.

“I can’t, Joey” you whisper regretfully, heart aching as his fingers slip away and he sits back on the stool with a sad smile.

“Oh my god,” your boss groans dramatically from your side. “I can’t watch this any longer. Lily! Get over here for a minute.”

You gape at her sudden outburst as she snags the towel from your hand and grabs you by the arm. She pulls you along the length of the bar and you prepare for a scolding.

“Nat, I’m sorry –“

She snaps her fingers tersely and you fall silent as she impatiently watches the petite blond girl, Lily, bounce across the room.

“Yeah boss?” Lilly lilts.

“You’re going to help me behind the bar for thirty, it’s time to teach you some stuff anyway and I cannot listen to this lovesick pining any longer.”

Nat pushes you out from behind the bar and raises a brow at you when you try to object. Lily giggles and eagerly takes your place while a figure steps up behind you.

Nat points over your shoulder with a serious look, “thirty minutes and then she comes back - make it worthwhile lover boy.”

Your mouth falls open and you hear his soft chuckle. You turn to find him beaming at you with his hand already extended like a gentleman.

He raises a teasing brow at your hesitation, “any other excuses?”

You bite your lip and scan the crowd, stomach fluttering in nervous excitement as you place your hand in his. His hands are soft, enveloping yours in a comfortable warmth as he leads you to the dance floor. Couples lost in the music dance all around you as he turns and flashes you a brilliant white smile.

“Just tell me if I make you uncomfortable, okay?” His free hand slides up your arm slowly and he starts to sway. He keeps your eyes locked with his, never straying for a second even when you look away in embarrassment.

His fingers tickle over your skin, careful to avoid any areas that might push your boundaries. You follow his lead and you move to the beat, hips swiveling slowly as you loosen up and let the tension melt away. He releases your hand, fingers gingerly finding your hips and pulling you closer. You let out a soft sigh as you brush up against him.

“You smell good,” you let out unthinkingly, eyes closed as his hips move with yours.

He cups the side of your face, thumb flicking over your lower lip, “you are so beautiful.” His voice is gentle and deep in earnest.

You take in a quick breath as he leans in closer, eyes flicking down to your tongue as it pokes out to wet your lip. Suddenly, you panic and turn away, spinning in his arms until your ass grazes his bulging jeans. You feel his chest rumble as he chuckles and pulls you closer.

His lips brush against the shell of your ear, “tease.”

You laugh as his breath tickles down your neck and he breaths you in. Your bodies move in perfect rhythm, this position giving you a little more control and some necessary breathing room. He places a soft kiss to your shoulder. Your eyes flutter as you moan and he takes it as approval for more.

“I have thought about nothing else since I first saw you,” he admits into the crook of your neck, his hands gliding down your hips to the outside of your thighs and back up.

You get lost in the feel of him. You’ve been thinking about him too, imagining how good it would feel to let him touch you. It’s a relief to discover that reality is far better.

“You have to let me take you on a proper date,” he insists pleadingly. “Please.”

He groans out the last word as you rotate your hips a little harder against him. He’s rock hard and your pride swells in the knowledge that it’s all for you. You suppose it can’t hurt to make time for him, right? You deserve to do something for yourself.

You bite your lip again as you nod, grin growing wide at the way he lets out a happy moan and squeezes you to him.

“HEY!”

You startle at the hostile bellow that cuts through the room. Everyone on the dance floor pauses to look over at the entrance where a fresh crowd of patrons loom intimidatingly. It’s their size that strikes you first, all of them are huge, at least a head taller than a majority of the room.

Then you see him pushing past his buddies, his long dark hair kissing the shoulders of his navy blue suit. You stiffen as he steps forward, his stormy blue eyes enraged at the sight of you. Even in the hot crowded room his gaze is enough to make you shiver. You frantically push on the hands still gripping your hips and step away from your dance partner.

“Oh my god… is that Bucky Barnes?!” Joey asks excitedly from beside you.

You shift uncomfortably and whisper out the side of your mouth, “get out of here!”

Bucky pushes through the crowd in a straight shot toward you, making your heart beat violently in your chest. Joey looks between you and the famous wide receiver in confusion. Bucky grunts as he shoulders through a star-struck couple and you quickly jump in front of Joey.

“Bucky,” you warn before melting under his fuming glower. You swallow thickly but don’t move. “It was just a dance.”

“Is that right?” He nods and purses his lips before sizing up the man behind you. “Is that all it was, pal? Just a dance?” His tone is mocking, laced with threat.

Joey takes a moment to consider the situation. He isn’t exactly a small guy, likely not used to bowing out of confrontations. But did he really want to fight a professional football player and a bunch of his teammates?

“Are you her boyfriend?” Joey asks diplomatically.

“I’m asking the questions here.” Bucky takes a menacing step forward and you press your hands to his chest… as if that could stop him.

“Well if you’re not her boyfriend… I suggest you wait while I finish our dance and then you can ask her nicely for one yourself.”

You grimace and let out a breath.

Well, shit.

“What the hell did you say to me?”

“You heard me,” Joey steps up behind you and you hold out a hand to his chest too, trapped in a tense testosterone sandwich. “You think just because you’re a famous football player you don’t owe the lady some manners? A little chivalry might do you some good.”

In your head you’re doing a standing ovation, his words only make you love him more. But he’s an idiot. You watch Bucky’s lips curve into that familiar cruel smile your blood runs cold. He brings his hands together, twisting the three large Super Bowl rings on his finger calmly.

“No, no, no. Bucky please…” you plead.

Bucky steps past you, smacking your hand away as he lands a solid punch to Joeys jaw. The crack is loud enough to make the whole crowd gasp and take another step back. Several cameras flash as two of Bucky’s friends scoop up the wobbling Joey from the floor and drag him toward the clubs exit. Bucky’s hand grips your wrist and you have no choice but to follow him.

You meet Natasha’s apologetic eyes and she mouths a quick, “I’m sorry,” before you are dragged outside.

“Bucky. Just let him go,” you choke back a sob as the two guys toss him into the back of the black suburban waiting on the curb.

Bucky tugs you so that you crash into his firm chest, “is this what you’ve been doing while I was away? Huh? Just whoring yourself out to every man who would have you?”

He squeezes your wrists so hard you think they might snap. You whimper and shake your head, “no.”

“This is not the welcome home greeting I was expecting, kitten. I’m very disappointed in you.”

“I didn’t know you’d be back today,” you whine. “I swear he just wanted a dance and Nat –“

“Nat?” Bucky interrupts, surprised. “Well, I’ll have to have a little chat with her later about who owns this place. I thought the rules were clear when I had you put behind the bar.”

Bucky wipes away a stray tear as it trickles down your cheek and you do your best not to flinch. Your lip quivers as he leans down to smell your hair and brush his lips across your crown.

“Now, I think my little kitten needs to be reminded who holds her leash. Hm?” He pinches your chin as his eyes rove down your body.

You yelp as he turns and shoves you into the car, following close behind. You stare in horror as Joey sits across from you, smashed between two boulder-sized men. His head droops as the car moves and his eye lids struggle to stay open, lip torn and bleeding from the hit. Your heart aches for him. He doesn’t deserve this. He was just trying to defend you.

“Where are we going, Bucky?” You ask meekly.

Bucky slips his hand up your leg, fingers digging into the soft skin of your inner thighs. “Home, of course.” He pauses and leans over to growl in your ear. “Though… if you keep talking like that I might not be able to wait.”

Bucky’s lackeys grin as they leer at you. Bucky has never had qualms about being watched. You drop your eyes submissively and shut up. Bucky will use anything as an excuse to humiliate you, best not to give him a reason. Whatever he’s keeping Joey around for can’t be good, but for now he’s your reason to play nice, and for his sake you’ll do it.

“Ah, finally,” Bucky complains as they pull up to his apartment building.

Bucky hauls you from the car and you watch them drag Joey out too, his arms slung over their shoulders, toes barely touching on the ground. You meet his eye over your shoulder as you pass through the doors and try to convey all the regret you feel for everything that has happened… and is about to happen. He shakes his head at you, almost imperceptibly.

“Good evening, Mr Barnes. Good to have you home, sir.”

“Thank you, Tom.” Bucky beams at the doorman. “I can always count on you for a warm welcome.” He looks at you pointedly before noticing Toms concern. “Oh, my friend here has had a bit of a rough time I’m afraid, so we’ll be having a quiet night at home. If anyone comes calling just take a message for me will you?”

“Yes, of course sir. I’ll see to it you are not disturbed.”

“Best perk of the building, Tom,” Bucky praises as he slides a rolled up hundred dollars into his doorman’s jacket pocket.

The elevator is silent as your mind races with what Bucky could possibly have planned. If he had intended on killing him surely there are places with an easier clean up. Roughing him up is a possibility. But the answer becomes devastatingly obvious when you walk through the door and Bucky instructs his boys to tie Joey to a chair in the living room.

“Bucky,” you beg while Joey hisses in pain, the ropes digging in painfully to his biceps, wrists and ankles. “Please. You don’t have to do this. I get it, okay. I’m yours. I won’t disappoint you again, I promise.”

“Kitten,” Bucky coos, ignoring you as he pets your cheek. “What is the first thing you’re supposed to do when you walk through those doors?”

Your eyes widen, voice caught in your throat. You glance nervously over at Joey who stares back in concern.

“Brock,” Bucky calls without looking away from you.

The muscular man finishes taping Joeys mouth, nods back at Bucky, stands to his full height and delivers a harsh back-handed blow to Joeys cheek. Joeys head whips to the side and he grunts weakly.

“Do you want us to stay?” Brock asks, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he looks at you and rubs his hands together.

“No. Take the night off,” Bucky answers absently as he slips a finger under the thin strap of your dress.

Brock lingers, eyes following the fabric as it slips down your shoulders. You look over shyly at the extra pair of eyes watching you and flinch as Bucky suddenly decided to tear it down the middle. After getting an eye-full, Brock smirks cruelly and finally leaves. He knows Bucky doesn’t like to repeat himself.

“Go on, Kitten,” Bucky says as he swats your ass. “The longer you take, the longer you leave me alone with your little boyfriend here.”

The threat is effective. You quickly run down the hall and return in under two minutes. Rounding the corner to the living room, you find Bucky sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows on his wide knees as he talks to Joey in a quiet timber.

“Ah, there she is,” Bucky’s face brightens as he spots you.

Thankfully Joey has his back to you and makes no effort to look, you savor those last few steps before he sees the real you. The you that Bucky has made you.

Bucky stands up and holds his hand out to you. You close your eyes and with one last breath you take his hand, allowing him to pull you in front of Joey.

“My. Sweet. Little. Kitten,” Bucky praises. “You can see why I call her that now, don’t ya kid?” He mocks as he runs his fingers down the long white tail and tugs it sharply.

You wince and clench your ass to keep the plug in place. Bucky chuckles softly as he turns you, giving Joey the full view of your pink collar, silky white lingerie, cat ear headband and knee high socks, complete with pink paw prints on the feet. Your skin burns in humiliation as your gaze finally meets Joey’s wide eyes.

“Pretty, isn’t she?” Bucky provokes as he runs his hands down your sides and curls them around to squeeze your tits. “You want to hear her purr?”

You let out a breath as Bucky cups your cunt and begins to rub. His thick fingers slip easily along the thin satin fabric, pressing with just the right amount of pressure to make your stomach spasm. You try to hold in the moans, those noises he has become so good at extracting from you. You want to resist for Joey’s sake, knowing every second pushes him further and further away.

Bucky pushes aside your wet panties and slides two fingers deep inside you. The squelching fills the room as your knees begin to tremble, but his arm around your ribs keeps you from escaping his forceful attention. The obscene sounds alone are enough to betray you. There is no denying at least some part of you wants this – at least, that’s likely what Joey believes.

Your eyes roll and your body hums with pleasure. His fingers fuck you hard and fast, curled at the perfect angle with his palm presses firmly to your clit. What starts as a sob finishes as a drawn out moan and you cum shakily in his arms.

“That’s right, kitten,” Bucky kisses your neck. “Only I get to make you come... Not you, not that ex husband, and certainly not this little boy you found.”

His hand flies to your throat, still sticky with your come, and he squeezes, “who do you belong to?” He shakes you when you keep your mouth closed. “Say it.”

“You,” you struggle to get out.

“Good. Now, be a good girl and go sit in his lap.”

“Wha?”

“Hey, you picked him. If you didn’t want to include him you shouldn’t have let him touch my things,” Bucky growls as he pushes you between Joeys legs. “So let’s get nice and cozy, huh?”

You sniffle as you delicately lower yourself onto Joeys lap, trying to balance on his thighs and not further back against his crotch. Bucky watches with a smirk, enjoying the tension building between you.

“Now lay back. Show me that pretty pussy. I’m sure he won’t mind,” Bucky chuckles.

Joey stiffens as you settle over him and rest your head on his shoulder. You start to slip and reach down instinctively to push yourself back into place. Your hands graze his hips and you wiggle against him. You feel his cock pressing sharply into your lower back and you freeze, eyes wide.

“What is it kitten? Disappointed to know your white knight is just as depraved as I am?” Bucky laughs and he leans down, eyes dropping to where you try to arch your body away from Joeys erection. “No matter how nice you think they are… all men are animals. I’m just more honest about it.”

Joey growls, his chest vibrating at your back as Bucky lifts your legs and kneels before you. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and grips your thighs tight as you whimper in anticipation. You’re still sensitive, but that’s when Bucky loves to taste you most.

Bucky locks eyes with you as he dips his head down and licks along the crease of your thighs, humming happily as he cleans up your slick. His rough tongue around your outer lips and the heat at your back has you shaking. He loves to take his time, it’s the anticipation that destroys your resolve. You know he wants to hear you beg for it.

“Best I’ve ever tasted,” Bucky licks his shiny lips, kissing your thighs. “mmm, I don’t blame you for wanting her. But this is elite grade pussy, not suitable for just anyone. Is it kitten?”

You turn your head away from Joey, your eyes shut tight in shame. You’re dripping and it only gets worse with Bucky’s praise - something he doesn’t give often. Bucky’s arm adjusts as he reaches over to slap your cunt.

“Is it?!” Bucky snarls.

You cry out and try to cover yourself but his nails dig in to your thighs until you submit, “no! No! Only you, Bucky! Please.”

“Good girl,” he coos relaxing his fingers before burying his head between your legs.

You arch your back in surprise, your ass pressing into Joeys hard cock as you grip his arms still strapped to the chair. Your breath comes out in heavy puffs, chest heaving at the way he plays with your clit.

You feel his digits trace your slit as he sucks your clit softly, he circles your entrance, spreading your slick before shoving a finger back inside you. He pulls his mouth away as you start to moan weakly, your hips grinding against his hand.

Joey groans softly and you turn to look at him instinctually. His eyes are fixed on your cunt being stretched by Bucky’s fingers. Your skin grows sticky with sweat as Joeys heat combines with your own. Bucky takes you in, smirking at the way Joeys eyelids grow heavy and his hips buck to add more friction against your ass.

Bucky stops right as you near your second orgasm and stands, pulling you up with him, “eh eh eh, don’t get greedy now, boy.”

“Bend over, kitten. Hands on the back of the chair, so he can hear how much you like it,” Bucky orders, pushing your shoulders down until you bend at the hip.

Your trembling hands grip the chair right above Joeys shoulders, face close enough to his to smell his cologne. He smells just as good as he did on the dance floor, better even. You focus on the memory it brings until you whisper a soft, “I’m sorry,” in his ear.

At that moment Bucky plunges into your swollen cunt. His rigid cock stretches you painfully, walls protesting as you try to stifle your noises. But when he hits that spot deep inside you, that spot that makes your knees go weak, all bets are off. You let out a long moan, pushing back your hips to meet that blissful pain of him scratching that deep itch. Hands on your hips, Bucky sets a steady rhythm, balls tapping your sensitive clit with each thrust.

“Oh fuck, Kitten. I’d take this pussy over a Super Bowl win any day… can’t believe you thought I’d ever let another man touch you.”

Bucky’s smacks your ass sharply and you cry out into Joeys ear. You can hear him still moaning at the sight of you, the noises you make. You imagine it’s him behind you. Imagine that when it’s finished he’ll cuddle up with you and kiss your forehead tenderly.

You settle in that rapturous fantasy and let it carry you through your next two orgasms. It is finally broken by Bucky shoving you to your knees and coming on your face. He stumbles backward and falls into the couch with a sigh before tucking himself away.

“Bad kitty,” Bucky smirks. “Look at the mess you made.”

Tears flow freely down your cheeks, mixing with his thick cum as you sit at Joeys feet. You can see the betrayal in his brown eyes, the hurt that you didn’t tell him sooner. You suppose it was selfish of you to hope for something real.

“Do you understand your place now, Kitten?”

You wipe the wetness from your face as you nod, “y-yes.”

“Good. Now, go clean up,” Bucky orders, standing once more and fiddling with his rings. “I’ll make sure the boy gets home safe.”

You sniffle as he nears you and you look up at him. He cups your chin and hums with a smirk, “if I catch you doing something stupid like this again, I won’t be so generous. Got it?”

“Yes, Bucky,” you reply.

You wobble as you get to your feet and give Joey one last apologetic look before walking gingerly down the hall. Your night is far from over. He’ll likely save the really brutal stuff for when he returns… but at least you can be happy Joey made it out alive.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen @queenoftheworldisdead @buttercupfangirl @emberenchanted @lokiswildheartcantbebroken @needleandhammer @thiskindahotkindamusic @threeminutesoflife @jaspearl31 @queenyanna111 @phildunphyisadilf

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

A Memory

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x F!Reader

A/N: I’m on a writing hiatus. Yes I am. But I also needed to get this out because I was all kinds of sad yesterday. Anyway as usual it’s unbeta’d and probably terrible.

Summary: Lord Morpheus helps you relive a memory that you cherish.

Warnings: children, child loss, sadness, grief and a brief suicide mention.

Word Count: 1275

You knew the door bell was about to ring and people you hadn’t seen in years were going to come piling through the door all smiles and laughter. Today was a joyful day and yet, you carried a heavy sadness within you. It was like an old friend by now; coexisting with such a weight had been a burden at first but you eventually accepted it for what it was. A part of you.

Your eyes rose at the sound of someone entering the kitchen. She was beautiful, glowing with the radiance of the day as she pottered about the kitchen humming a tune you knew intimately. Warm air wafted from outside but you knew it wasn’t going to last.

Pushing away from the counter your feet were silent on the cream kitchen tiles. You saw the garden was laid out with pillows for the children around a long, low table, cups, plates and hats of various pastel shades were arranged neatly for each place setting. To the side was a white gazebo, balloons waved gently in the summer breeze and you saw the cake standing tall and grand ready for the birthday girl. Unicorns danced between rainbows, clouds fluffy and white filled the gaps and your hand slid up the column of your throat as though to try and strangle the emotion that threatened to burst forth.

The doorbell went. A faint tinkling you would be able to tell from any other doorbell. Voices drifted towards you, voices so happy they carried through the house. Peeking round the edge of the gazebo you saw your family spill into the garden. Your mum, your sister, her kids, your brother. They were all complimentary, eyes taking in every detail and pointing out items on the cake.

Then you heard her. The sound of her voice alone could bring you to your knees. Hair almost unnaturally black it was so dark and eyes so rich with the depth of an old soul. She was your heart, your one true love; a piece of you walking around as her own person.

She darted between the family, brushing past you and she grabbed her grandparents hand in excitement. It’s my birthday today! Yes, it was her birthday. A day you held onto and cherished. A memory you hoped would never fade but as time marched on it became harder and harder to recall the finer details.

More people arrived. Children and their parents; your friends. Hugs were given to out, presents piled on the table and food was passed to the small ones. Music played in the background, the adults had drinks and you remembered feeling so pleased with yourself that you were a good host that day.

Part of you didn’t want to watch because it hurt. The pain of seeing yourself so happy and light compared to who you were now was soul shatteringly painful. You were so naïve, oblivious to what was just around the corner.

But still, you stood with everyone else, your cracked voice blending with the rest of you family as you sung your perfect girl happy birthday. One last time.

Tears trickled down the smoothness of your cheeks and with a sigh of irritation you wiped them away. You wanted to see her, to commit her face to your memory all over again. To sketch the scent of her into yourself, to record her laughter so you could play it whenever you needed to just hear her.

The pain of missing her was crippling. It eviscerated you in more ways than one and it had nearly cost you your life. But he had saved you at the last moment. Shown you what he could do to keep you afloat, because in part, he felt like he had inflicted this on you.

Your mum was cutting the cake and you were dotting your daughters cheeks with blue frosting, making her nose scrunch up in the most delicious way. Abruptly you turned. You wanted to leave, it was becoming too much to handle.

Your breath hitched loudly. A sob crawled up your throat and tensed your muscles as it went. Eyes swam with his own sorrow stared at you. He was in a long black coat that settled gently over his boots. Hands nestled in his pockets and you knew they held his sand and his ruby, never ever wanting to be parted from them. His dark hair, so much like the little girl behind you; raven black and otherworldly. Your teary gaze travelled over his form, drinking him in like you were dying of thirst wondering now, after all this time he’d finally come back. Emotion so evident and deep, rippled across his handsome features when he saw how much you were suffering. His boots didn’t leave depressions in the lush grass as he strode forward, his arms encircling you in a tight embrace.

Here you let go. Releasing all the rush of emotions you needed to free. Tears welled from your eyes, soaking into the black t-shirt that he always wore. Fists curled into the fabric like you were trying to pull him into you until you became one person. Surely you were hurting him but he didn’t utter a sound. Resting his cheek on the top of your head as you fell apart against him, his hands holding you together with a reverence you didn’t deserve. You thought he was going to end the dream and take you somewhere else to calm you down.

Instead the heavens opened.

Rain fell hard and fast, soaking you both in minutes but still the joyful sound of the party was continuing. Slowly you dared to glance over your shoulder and what you saw sobered you a little. It was raining everywhere, dark clouds roiling in the sky in response to Dream’s inner turmoil but where your daughter was eating her cake was untroubled. The sun still shone on her and her family. It lit her up in a blaze of warmth you couldn’t feel and you thought it was fitting.

Her parents, aching deeply forever from her loss out in the dark and wet. And she, so glorious and the only light they had in their lives was endlessly bathed in gold.

Dream’s coat was wrapped around you, cradling you in its starry but comforting grasp. Numbness crept through your body and you knew it was time to leave. Looking up at the Endless you waited for him to tear his gaze from his daughter and look down at you.

“Thank you.” It was all you could manage but you knew he could feel everything you wanted to say. You saw it manifest in his blue eyes, the way his expression shifted as he too, couldn’t speak words. Staring into his eyes was a journey, at first they were blue and human but the longer you looked the more they became something else. Darkness crept into his irises, stars and the velveteen night drew you in, spiralling around you as everything began to fade to background noise.

Nodding wordlessly you gave him permission to take you away and the last thing you felt was the whisp of sand as it stroked your cheek in a tender farewell.

[ivykim]

to be more than friends…(haseong)

masterlist // wattpad

summary: ivy can’t help the feeling of falling in love when jay is constantly so cautious of her. he always treats her with such care despite teasing her most of the times. ivy feels bad but when one night, a late night chat happens, secret fall out and a kiss was shared.

NOTE: ivy and jay got together during the blank period before border : carnival era. other boys will be revealed later on.

italics mean it's in english!

ivy and jay had been friends for as long as her training period. well while ivy and heeseung were classmates, jay's family actually was close to her family. which made them friends due their families.

when they were younger, jay's dad had invited ivy's family on a trip but they didn't exactly remember since they were still young at the time which made them think they only knew each other for 5 years.

they definitely knew each more than that but they didn't care, engenes still called them 5yearz so they simply stuck by it.

"vivi?" jay calls out for her from the kitchen. ivy goes over.

"yes?" jay blows onto the spoon and holds it out for ivy to try. she drinks it.

"think it's okay? after all, you did get sick."

"jay, i told you it's just a runny nose. you don't have to prepare me soup. i'm fine with just taking medicine and sleeping." jay shakes his head.

"noona, you're sick. you should have at least some soup. it will make your body feel better. you overdid on practice today too. jay eyes the ankle brace on her foot.

"jay. i'm fine." ivy assures the boy. she could hear heeseung calling out for her. "i have to go but thank you for the soup anyways. i'll drink it and treasure the appreciation." she pecks the younger male's cheek.

ivy falls to ground while panting. this comeback's choreo was hard. she was finding it hard to breathe, she coughs. jay hands her a bottle of water. ivy pushes it away.

"water will slow me down." ivy says. jay sighs.

"it won't, you need it noona. you haven't drink since the start of practice. you'll be dehydrated."

"jay, i'm fine." jay rolls his eyes, he opens the bottle up and grabs ivy's waist before holding the drink up close to her.

"drink." jay says. ivy blushes. she takes a sip of the water and gulps it down. "good girl."

ivy felt the butterflies surrounding her tummy. jay closes the bottle and lets her go. he ruffles her hair.

"now, let's continue." jay smiles.

"ah, right." ivy says before she goes to continue practice.

jay wasn't dumb, he knew that ivy and heeseung were dating. it was obvious, judging by how they subtly always stick close to each other. it seems like it was too normal for the other boys to realise but when you've been friends with both of them for 5 years, you'd think jay wouldn't know the difference.

but he can't help but feel jealous. they had talked about this before, between just heeseung and jay. it was obvious a competition would happen and who'd win ivy's heart. it seems like he lost. it made him sad, he didn't even realise he started distancing himself from the both of them.

both heeseung and ivy noticed but heeseung wanted ivy to talk to him by herself. find out the reason why he was acting like this.

"why are you acting like this, jay?" ivy asks. it was silent between the both of them.

"acting like what, noona?"

"you're distancing yourself from me and heeseung. what's going on?"

"nothing is wrong."

"jay, you have to tell me what's wrong. i wouldn't be able to know if i even need to apologise." ivy looks straight into jay's eyes. jay sighs. he cups her face.

"you won't hate me if i did this right?" before ivy could even question it, she felt jay's lips on hers. ivy shuts her eyes and kisses him back.

jay pulls away, "noona."

"you don't have to say anything. i know and i like you too. as for heeseung, he knows too. in fact, i'm pretty sure he knows the other boys like me too. he also proceeded to say, i might end up with 7 boyfriends." ivy snickers.

"so heeseung hyung is okay with this?"

"yeah. i guess. he looked a little jealous while saying it though but i'm sure we can work this out."

"but it feels wrong though."

"jay, we can just try it out first you know. if you find it weird then we could not try it. i can always treat you all separately as my individual boyfriends."

"no no, let's try this. god, i can't believe i got myself into a polyamorous relationship." jay says.

"too bad, babe. you are stuck with me and the boys now!" ivy holds jay close.

[hhhemberhhh]

The Whispers in the Wind (Chapter Two)

Prologue Chapter One

Warnings: sexism; slight NSFW (foreplay, if you will); mentions of alcohol abuse; implied suicide

“Did you hear the news of Prince Nuris’ death?” His sister asked, sitting down in the chair across from him. 

“Yes,” he responded, not looking up from the scroll he was reading. “Something revolving around a suicide.” 

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” 

“Sad thing in this world, Alana,” He took a long sip of the wine from his goblet. Then he grimaced. “This sucks.” He put the cup back on the table. 

“Are you seriously planning to drink your arse off with alcohol while we’re trying to have a serious conversation about the death of the Avlyrrian heir?!” Alana slammed her hands on the table, rising from her seat, her gaze boring into him. 

“Well, it’s not really alcohol! It’s weak!” he said, his words slurring together. “The people that call this purple shit wine don’t know what true alcohol is.” 

Her cheeks flushed with anger, and she huffed. “I can’t talk to you, Livius.” 

He watched her storm out of his chambers, his mind too foggy from the wine that he had exclaimed was “weak” for him to care that his sister had walked out on him, furious. 

“What the fuck was I even reading?” he questioned himself aloud, looking at the small words on the scroll he had in his hands. But, all the words blurred together, no matter how hard he squinted to observe the ink. His brain didn’t process what he was looking over since he had drunk his first goblet of wine. 

Huh, maybe that wine is actual alcohol, he thought. And not just… false. After a few moments of trying to decipher the words on the scroll, he just gave up and shoved it on the floor, stomping on it. 

He got up from the table, walking out of his rooms, roaming the long halls of the Amiyugian castle. 

He heard footsteps soon follow behind him. 

“Cora, what do you want?” Livius asked, not turning around to face the woman, choosing to speed up his pace. 

“Livius,” she began. “Stop walking.” 

He didn’t know what came over him, but he stopped in his tracks, obeying her command. She circled slowly around him, until her face was in front of his. Her dress swished around her, the burgundy taking the look of blood on the stone floor. 

“Why did I just see your sweet little sister storm out of your chambers?” Cora asked, raising a brow. “In anger, actually.” 

“It is none of your concern,” he said sharply. 

Her gaze burned into him, her amber eyes staring into his soul. He could have sworn that they shifted from scarlet to blood red, alternating between the two colors. But, it could have been the wine. He did a habit of drinking until he couldn’t think straight, after all. 

She tilted her head. “Ah, I know what this is about.” He stayed silent. “She recently got the news of Avlyrra’s heir.” 

“Yes, she did,” he said, while his mind screamed, Why would you tell her that, you fool?! 

“And she went to you to ask for your insights? While you proceeded to drink to your heart’s desire, leading her to storm out, frustrated.” 

He blinked. “Were you watching us?” 

She laughed. “No, Livius. I am just that good at reading between the lines.” 

Livius rolled his eyes, pushing past Cora. 

“Best to go comfort her,” she called, her tone snarky. “We would not want the two of you loathing one another, would we?” 

… 

She said nothing as she tilted the pitcher, purple liquid spilling into his goblet. After she walked off, he took a long sip of the wine, the spicy taste burning as it slid down his throat. 

“So, Father,” Livius began. “Why have you brought forth the most prestigious nobles of the Ancient Isle?” He looked around the table. Men were mostly present, with the exception of his mother, seated next to his father, and Alana, refilling everyone’s goblets, her face twisted in frustration. 

Most of them he knew. He knew Lord Seston as an intelligent Avlyrrian of House Cilbrech, full of wisdom from his years as a noble and as a soldier. Anther was an Amiyugian, someone whom Livius had known throughout his childhood as his bastard brother. From which of his parents, he was unsure of. Perhaps his father, most likely. 

The king cleared his throat. “As you all know, a terrible tragedy has jumped upon us.” 

“Yes, what an awful thing to arise in this world,” Lord Seston said. “Our king and queen were just grief stricken when their son took his own life, and their sadness traveled to all of Avlyrra when they told us of the awful news.” 

Anther snickered. “My question is, why would he want to kill himself if he had such a great life? A whole army of strong soldiers at his command, the heir to a luxurious kingdom, maidens and whores fawning over him. That’s the perfect life for a prince, is it not?” 

Livius watched Alana’s cheeks flush red, as Anther had said that when she was right behind him. She gripped the pitcher harder, until her knuckles turned white around the handle, her hand trembling. But, she kept silent as she continued to fill people’s goblets with wine. 

“Maybe it was the burden of being named heir.” 

It took him a moment to process the fact that the words had come from his mouth. 

“I mean,” he began when all eyes turned to him. “To be named heir of such a prestigious kingdom could be overwhelming. And the pressure that would be put upon you, from not only your parents, but from everyone else, as well. Prince Nuris probably could not handle it.” 

“To that, I say he’s a wuss,” Anther shot back. “A weakling. Look at you, Brother. You’re the prince of Amiyugia, are you not? And yet you still stand before us, very much alive, your neck free of rope.” 

“Do not speak of the Avlyrrian prince in such a manner!” Lord Seston shouted, slamming his hands against the table. 

“Pardon me!” Anther said, putting his hands up in surrender. It was not sincere, Livius could tell, but the Avlyrrian noble just shot a glare at him and stayed quiet. A wise choice, he thought. Anther smirked at him after he had calmed down. 

“Moving on,” Someone— Livius recognized as Lord Ondite, the king‘s Hand— said, breaking the silence. “I heard that Queen Miria and King Tydros have named their daughter as the new heir to Avlyrra, am I correct?” 

“Yes.” The king said blankly. “A woman as heir to the Avlyrrian throne.” He laughed, a cold, dark, sound. “I am patiently waiting for that to go up in flames.” 

“And, why do you say that, Father?” Alana said, shocking everyone with the sudden sound of her voice. She was standing behind Livius, her sickly sweet perfume washing over his senses. 

The king‘s expression faltered for a moment, out of panic, but then returned to its original emotionless, neutral state. “I only meant that many people do not see how a woman is fit to rule over a kingdom. It has been centuries since a female has been named heir to any kingdom on the Ancient Isle, around the time Cadea and Vetia reigned.” 

“Are you one of those people, Father?” she asked, innocence in her tone. Though, Livius could see that it was far from it. Her voice practically dripped with poison as she voiced her next question. “Do you think that a girl, me, for example, would be so unfit to rule over Amiyugia?” 

He started fidgeting with his hands as he kept his eyes on Alana, letting out a nervous chuckle. 

“I’m afraid she has you there, Father,” Anther whispered, elbowing the king, a sheepish smile on his face. 

“Alana, dear,” he began. At this point, Livius could feel her fingertips brush against his back as her hand gripped the back of his chair, her weight leaning on it. She sharply inhaled, waiting for a response from their father. 

“You do not understand,” he tried. 

“What do I not understand? Do I not understand how to grow fit to rule over a whole kingdom? Am I not strong enough to handle anyone who opposes me? Who questions my rule? Please, tell me what I do not understand.” Alana said, scowling.

“Our brother is the heir. Are you saying that you want to be heir instead?” Anther asked, looking at her.

“Of course not. I have no desire to rid him of his birthright. I am simply painting a hypothetical scenario. If my dear brother had never been born, would you have made me the Amiyugian heir? Or, would you not, and pray to the gods that you are gifted with a son that is not Anther?” 

Their father inhaled deeply. “This is absurdity.” He turned to Lord Seston. “I apologize for the irrelevant conversation that you have heard. Please, forgive me.” 

“Of course, Your Grace.” Lord Seston said, bowing his head. 

“Back to the subject at hand,” the king said through clenched teeth, casting a small glare in Alana’s direction. She rolled her eyes, slamming the pitcher of wine on a small table in the corner of the room, and stormed out. Everyone grew silent once again at the sound of the door slamming shut. 

Livius stood up. “I am going to go check on her.” His voice was louder than he preferred in the quiet room. Everyone watched him with intense expressions. 

“Very well,” his mother said, much to his relief. “You are excused, Livius.” 

He quietly walked out of the room, and down the halls of the castle. He found Alana in the throne room. She was sitting on the throne itself, slumped against its back, the throne seeming larger than it actually was because of her smaller frame. Her head hung low, her arms resting on the iron armrests, her fingertips gripping the metal. The skirts of her dress were spread out, pooling at the base of the throne. Blood and black against one another, it seemed.

He snorted, catching her attention. “Enjoying the feeling of ruling over all of us, my queen?” 

Her head perked up at his voice, the crease in her forehead from her furrowed brows easing slightly. 

“Might as well, considering I won’t ever get the privilege to officially sit on this throne.” Alana said, her tone drenched with sarcasm. 

He stepped up the stairs at the base of the throne, the clicking of his boots against the metal being the only sound that filled the large room. He walked until he was in front of the chair itself, getting down on one knee, bowing to her. 

“Your Grace.” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his tone full of mockery. Playfulness. Sarcasm. 

“Get up!” she said, breaking out into a fit of giggles, shoving his head upward, pushing him to look at her by grabbing his hair. He started laughing with her, placing his hands on her knees to balance himself, lifting himself up, standing before her like he was, prior to his little stunt. “I wouldn’t want the prince to make a fool of himself.” 

Okay, then, I’ll play along, he thought, and no doubt, she was thinking the same thing. 

“Especially in front of my queen.” He could see that she was trying hard to hold in her laughter. The corners of her lips twitched the longer he stared at her, focusing his attention to her eyes, which were a pale blue like the sky after a sunrise. 

Then, she cracked. She doubled over, holding her stomach, as she laughed. She scooted herself over, and allowed him to sit on the throne with her, since it was big enough to fit two people. She had to adjust herself slightly, her legs resting over his. She wrapped her arms around him.

When she finally calmed down, tears brimmed in her eyes, and her face was red. She leaned against him, her temple to his shoulder.  

“Would I be good?” she questioned him. He looked down at her, raising a brow. 

“Good? At what? Being queen?” he said, refuting her question with his own. She nodded. “Maybe if you were strong.” 

Her body tensed against his, and he watched her face fluctuate between different emotions. Shock. Question. Anger. “Am I not strong?” Here we go again.  

“I’d prefer if we didn’t have an extended conversation about what happened in another room a few moments ago. But, if you must know, I believe you have potential. But, it’s being wasted.” 

“How so?” 

“You let everyone believe that you’re this weak little princess who’s overshadowed by her cruel, emotionless family.” And, we’re off, he thought as soon as the words left his mouth. 

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not emotionless.” 

“That’s not my point,” he said, brushing aside her words. Sure, he could’ve basked in those words until the end of time, but he chose to focus on the current subject. “You can’t show that you’re vulnerable. And that’s what you always do. In front of our father. In front of our mother. In front of me. Why do you think Father was so reluctant to answer your questions earlier?” 

She blinked. “I… I guess I never really thought of that. So, what you’re saying is that I need to be… less vulnerable? I wasn’t aware that I was, but apparently I am.” 

“You need to hide your weaknesses better. Because, showing that you’re weak doesn’t help your situation: a woman aspiring to be queen—“ 

“Well, I don’t want to stand in the way of you. You’re the rightful heir to the Amiyugian throne. However,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, one that he could only hear. “With the way you drink and whore around, I might have to step in your place if you land yourself in an early grave.” She laughed, and he rolled his eyes, his mouth forming a smirk. 

“Here, here,” he began. “I’ll kill off our parents and then drink and whore until it kills me, leaving you all stranded and left to rule Amiyugia. How does that plan sound?” She laughed again.

“Perfect,” Alana said in a snarky tone. “Oh, but what are we to do with Anther? Maybe if we’re lucky, he’ll suffer the same fate as you.” She sighed. “There’s just so much I’d do to try and be a good queen. So much I want to give to help Amiyugia, as well as the whole Ancient Isle. Even if I don’t sit on an iron throne, I just wish that Father would hear what I have to say, instead of always brushing me away like the vulnerable little princess I am.” She practically spat the three words she added emphasis on. Vulnerable little princess. 

“And, tell me,” Livius began. “What ideas did you have that would benefit those around you?” 

Then, she was off. He tuned out most of her words as she droned on and on about the endless ideas her mind had conjured. He did catch something about helping Leovia’s poor condition, and he laughed at the idea. But, she did not falter. Her excitement and enthusiasm affected her body language, as she began getting jittery while talking about the things she wished to do to help the Ancient Isle. Her feet kicked against his shin, and even though it had hit his boot, it still made him wince lightly, as she kept doing it multiple times, unintentionally, just unable to control her happiness. 

When she finally slowed herself down, breathing heavily, she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered softly. “For everything.” 

He felt himself grow hot in the face, and he was sure that he was bright red. Thankfully, Alana had her eyes closed, so she couldn’t see him. He hesitantly placed a hand on her head, his fingers threading softly into her silky strands. She swayed lightly to his touch. 

“It’s no problem,” he finally mustered, his voice small. The two of them stayed like that, her practically on his lap, his fingers woven into her hair, her arms wrapped around him, sitting on the Amiyugian throne. 

Then, he remembered that anyone could walk in and see them the way they currently were. And, neither of them could afford to tarnish their royal reputation, of not only themselves, but of their parents as well. Though, there was nothing forbidden happening between them. Just platonic love. Family love. Sibling love. And that’s all there was. Nothing more. 

“I’ll walk you to your chambers,” he said, moving to stand up. He reached out a hand, and she took it after a moment's hesitation, helping herself off of the throne. 

He led her down the twists and turns of the castle, down the dark halls, despite the windows allowing faint sunlight to pass into the structure. Finally, they reached her rooms. 

Giving her a simple nod, he turned around to leave her alone. But, as he turned his back to her, she wrapped her arms around him one last time, her cheek pressing against his back. 

“Thank you, again,” she said, her voice barely audible. He went to move her hands with his own, shadowing hers, as he let out a light chuckle.  

“Remember, don’t show anyone how soft you are,” he said, glancing back at her. “Show them how powerful you can be.” With that, he walked down the halls, upon hearing her open the door and close it. 

He navigated through the castle, until he found himself facing the door to his own chambers. He opened the door with no hesitation, finding a woman in the room, wiping down one of the tables with a cloth. 

“Hello, Aphrah,” Livius said, wrapping his arms around the handmaiden’s waist. She leaned into his touch. He moved her from the table to the sofa, sitting her down, leaving him to lower himself to his knees. 

“Rough day, my sweet?” Aphrah asked, turning around to face him, tilting her head in sympathy, her lips moving into a pout. She brushed her fingers against his shoulders, her green eyes meeting his brown ones.

“As you know, we had the meeting about Prince Nuris,” he said. Though, he didn’t stay for the rest of the meeting, since Alana had left beforehand, causing him to miss the important points that were being discussed. But that wasn’t important at the moment. 

“Oh,” she said. “How that must’ve been painful. Is there anything I can do that will make you feel better, my prince?” She leaned towards him, her forehead pressed against his. 

He smirked, taking in her features. Bronze skin. Dark hair. Green eyes. She really was beautiful. By his standards, at least. 

“I think you know exactly what will make me feel better, don’t you?” he asked. She giggled as he moved his hands to her hips. 

“I think I might have a general idea,” Aphrah said, tracing a finger over the scar on his face, which started at his jaw and ended where his skin met his hair. She kissed him on the forehead, before grabbing his hand with hers, and stood up. “You lead the way, my prince. Show me what I need to do to make you feel better.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed!! Chapter three and four will be up tomorrow, no guaranteed time, but they will be published, on my blog and on AO3.

[primofate]

im feeling kinda akward since its my first time requesting,i really really really like your writings and im wondering if you could do some angst for albedo, anything you feel like tbh, but if may i be a little selfish i was thinking on something like he hurt you, so you break up with him or maybe he break up with you and regret later, im in love with the genius and your writings so why not lol, hope you are doing well, xoxoxooxox

Thanks for the request anon. <3 Sorry it took so long, but I’m feeling angst today so here goes. Let me know what you think <3

QUEUED POST

Scenario: Breaking up

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst?

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read: (Part 2) (Part 3 - Final)

Albedo

Alone.

These days you found yourself alone in your shared home. It had been nearly a year since the two of you decided to live together. Maybe that was a bad idea.

You were smitten. He was such an intelligent man, and truth be told you loved how his mind worked. He was silent and mostly kept to himself at first, but with you, there were subtle touches, fleeting kisses. Oh and his eyes, the way his eyes brightened or the way his lips turned up at the sight of you. The way he held you close at nights, up until the morning.

Gone were those days. 

He was hardly home. The intelligent man you had fallen in love with, was also a workaholic. Perhaps you should’ve seen it coming. There were so many signs.

Maybe he changed. Maybe you changed. But the little things weren’t enough anymore. He came home just to sleep and wake up, and he was off again. 

“Bedo, have you got some time off on the weekend? We haven’t been up to Starsnatch Cliff in a while,” you had prodded him a few days ago, wondering if the problem would be solved if you made the first move. 

“Sorry, Y/N, we’re just about to discover more about the properties of electro crystals... It’ll be useful if we want to sustain higher energy concentrations on...” and just like that he had gone off a tangent explaining the whole thing. You smiled a little, it was still endearing how excited he got discussing those things. 

But you couldn’t help but be lonely at how he seemed to love his research more than you. 

‘Maybe I just need to be more proactive. That’s it! I’ll go and visit him at the lab today!’ Surprising him was one of the things that you had always wanted to do. But not a lot of things got past Albedo. He was observant like that. You made a quick run to the bakery, getting him some croissants and welcomed yourself into the Favonius Headquarters. 

You looked up at the sign on his laboratory door. That sign was always there though, Klee had told you about it, and Sucrose had also talked about it once or twice before, telling you that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go in if the sign was up. But when was it ever down? So, you shrugged, and pushed the door open with a wide smile.

“What are you doing here?!” There’s a wild look in Albedo’s eyes the moment you step in. He didn’t appreciate being disturbed. You tilted your head a little at his reaction, you weren’t expecting that.

“Oh, since you’ve been so busy these days I just thought I’d drop by and give you something to--”

“Y/N, did you not see the sign on the door? No disturbances, even from you,”

“I’ll just be quick, I’m just dropping this off,” you lift the paper bag from the bakery and lay it down on the nearest table. Albedo closes his eyes with a sigh. 

“...We’re working on something dangerous right now, I don’t have time to eat. Please take it back,”

Surprisingly, you obey quite quickly, and take the paper bag back into your hands. Annoyance start to pulse in your veins. “Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

Sucrose had been standing there the whole time, and you can see the slight wince on her face at your cold statement... But Albedo had returned it ten fold, snapping an answer back. “Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

You didn’t expect how much it would sting. Your shoulders slump downwards at the realization that this... had gone too far. You couldn’t take it anymore. Sucrose opens her mouth, but doesn’t know what to say looking back and forth between you and Albedo. 

The Kreideprinz had continued with his task as if nothing had happened at all, but he knew what he said. He didn’t want any interferences nor accidents happening in the lab and that was the only thing he cared about at the moment. 

Your foot moves to step back, but your eyes are glued to Albedo. You can only see his back. His hair tied up neatly, the shoulders that you loved to wrap your arms around and his hands that were always gentle. You took a good look, drinking the whole scene in like you hadn’t had a drop of water in days. 

This was the last time you would lay eyes on him and it broke you into so many pieces. You turned away without another word, Sucrose staring at the door, before she decided that she needed to follow you. “I-I’ll be back, Master Albedo,” she rarely ever abandoned an experiment, but she knew that you needed a friend right now. 

Ironic, because it should have been Albedo running after you, but instead the green-haired girl caught up to you just as you reached the fountain in the middle of Mondstadt. “Y/N!” she jogs, and stops when you do as you hear your name.

Tears prickled your cheeks, but they were more of frustration than sadness. You stand there for a moment, drying your tears and turning around towards Sucrose, gaze on the pavement. “Y/N...” Sucrose approaches carefully, hand resting on your shoulder.

“...I don’t know anything other than Albedo, Sucrose,” you start, a curtain of memories flashing through your mind. “...Without him, there isn’t much reason for me to stay in Mondstadt,” Sucrose shakes her head rather hastily. “H-He’s just... a little occupied right now, Y/N, I’m sure he doesn’t mean what he said,” You close your eyes, the scene repeating in your head.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

A hard lump forms on your throat at how hard you try not to sob. How hard you try to keep yourself together and Sucrose sees it from the way your lips tremble. “Sucrose, please watch over him,” and that is also the last that Sucrose sees of you. 

That night, Albedo arrives home exhausted, just as he always does. But now that he was home, he could at least expect a warm meal and a warm hug. A soft smile tugs on his lips at the thought.

When he turned the lights on, he was met with a strange stillness instead. His hand stays on the switch as his eyes scan the living room. It was...quiet. There were no plates on the table, and there were no sounds from the kitchen.

Deep in the pits of his stomach there’s an anxiety that starts bubbling up. He brushes it off, opting instead to check the kitchen. “Y/N?”

Empty. 

His footsteps hasten as he opens the bedroom door, expecting you to be curled up there, asleep. 

Empty.

Albedo takes in a shaky breath. You were probably just out in town, doing some late night shopping. Yeah, that’s it, perhaps you just didn’t have enough ingredients for dinner today and--his eyes land on the bedside table.

The photo frame is gone. The photo of the two of you standing side by side together with comfortable smiles on your faces, his hand on your waist, and the house on the background. 

He throws open the closet doors. Your clothes are gone. Your shoes are gone. Even your scent seemed to have disappeared. The anxiety that was once a small bubble in his stomach had started to claw it’s way out, wrenching his heart in places that he didn’t know could hurt. The tears pooling in his eyes were so foreign that he didn’t even know what was happening until he hears himself gasp back a sob.

You’re gone. 

Suddenly it was so hard to breathe, but he pulls himself up and out the door. There’s no way. Where would you go? Perhaps you were just around Mondstadt, trying to get a breath of fresh air to calm your nerves. He searches everywhere. The church, the tavern, the Good Hunter and even atop the rooftop of the Favonius Headquarters. There was a decent view of the city there, and his eyes roam the streets, just to get a glimpse of you.

“...Please...” There’s another lump in his throat, his eyes dart around looking for any small sign of you. 

“Albedo? Tired?” you ask as he returns home one day. He merely lets out a small “Mm,” and pulls a chair out from the dining table to sit on. You walk into the kitchen to fetch him a cup of tea, and he snatches your hand to press a soft kiss on the back of it. “Thank you, love,” 

“...Please!” his grip on the stone walls of the rooftop tighten. His vision blurs.

“Al! Don’t do that!” you try to swat his hand away from the pot, a short laugh coming off of your lips at how mischievous he could be sometimes, trying to dip his finger into the sauce. He has a grin on his face as he successfully tastes the sauce off his finger, making a sound of approval as he draws you in for a light kiss on your forehead, “It’s good, as always,” 

His legs buckle, and he finds himself on his knees, hands fisted upon the cold stone wall. “At least tell me where you've gone! I can’t--” he doesn’t know when the last time he cried was, but whenever it was, he doesn’t remember it to be this bad. The pain was unlike any injury he had, it grasped so tightly at his heart.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

He furiously shakes his head because he knows that it was his fault. “I didn’t mean it, please give them back,” as if there was someone else who took you away. As if there was a God listening to him right now. 

He realizes that the worst of it was not that you had left, but that you had left no traces of you behind. No photo. Not a piece of clothing. Not a trace of your existence.

Nothing for him to hold on to.

That night, he dragged himself back home. Face flushed and hot from the tears he had shed and the ones he was attempting to hold back.

That night, he painfully got into bed.

Alone.

Taglist:  @larkspyrr @rim0na @sweeti-pie @l3mon-mxshroom @hai-q-haikyuu @tkshoki @kyquu @KimbapSana @fanfictionenthusiast

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[amane-by-together]

HIII I HOPE UR DOING WELL :D anyways- can u do a oneshot of vampire tsukasa PLS I HAVE BRAIN ROT OF HIM thxsss <3333

pied piper || tsukasa yugi

genre: fluff

pairing: vampire! tsukasa x reader

summary: in which [name] is busy with her journal writing but tsukasa wanted to keep her company (with the intention of drinking her blood) then [name] tries to push him away by saying that she's busy but the vampire was persistent of staying with her.

warning ⚠️: biting and blood

author's note: this is my first time making a tsukasa oneshot dear reader—i apologize if i can't seem to write tsukasa's character well (>0<；)/ i hope you like it dear~

      "[name]! [name]! look!" tsukasa's high pitched voice enters your ears when he came inside your study, almost knocking off an oil lamp with his hip. "oops!" he said as he ran towards you while wildly flailing his arms.

      "i'm taking over you."

      ever since you were assigned to live with tsukasa as his blood bank, you never felt peaceful after that. it's like you're babysitting a child because you have to make sure that he doesn't try to eat anything in the house.

      "tsukasa? what is it?" you asked, not breaking eye contact as you write your journal. tsukasa happily waddled his way towards you with a pen—and a goddamn deflated pufferfish wiggling around his enclosed fist.

      "what the heck is that?!—" you shrieked. "i just looked away for five minutes why do you have a pufferfish—?"

      "i wanna see what's inside." tsukasa's pupils started to dilate and darken as if he was planning something mischievous to the pufferfish. the poor living thing wouldn't be able to survive in the hands of yugi tsukasa. "aren't you curious?"

      you went silent before you opened your lips to speak while pointing a finger at tsukasa. "i don't like where this is going." well, he's still mentally a kid so it's normal to be curious at such things.

      tsukasa's lips turned into a frown when you turned your focus back on your journal. he was getting hungry for blood, he couldn't get your attention because you told him to wait until you were done. "tsukasa, go outside and touch some grass. i'm busy okay, dear? i'll come back to you later." you reached over to pat his head.

      but you didn't hear the door open and the footsteps fading away. tsukasa was still standing there, leaning against the walls while humming with a smile on his face. "tsukasa, you're going to be bored when you stay here with me." you flatly said, dipping your quill to the bottle of ink.

      "i want to stay with [name]." he said.

      "but i'm busy!" you said while raising your voice slightly.

      "i don't want to leave..." tsukasa—for the first time—lowered his head with a mumble, usually he would annoy you until you smack him but seeing him sad because you try to push him away made your heart ache. he rarely gets sad—so you were kind of concerned. "i want [name] to spend time with me but i guess she hates me..." he said with a forced smile.

      "tsukasa-kun! i don't hate you." you quickly whipped your head to his direction. tsukasa may act like an unstable toddler of a calamity whenever he comes, trouble follows after, which is not surprising but this self-assumption of the idea of you hating him caught you off guard. "i'm sorry dear, for making you think of me that way. i'm really busy so please understand that, okay?"

      you reached over to cup his cheek and hold his hand, intertwining both of your fingers together. tsukasa smiled warmly, that's the reasurrance that he needed to hear. "okay..."

      all of a sudden, you found yourself being tugged by tsukasa forward, his mouth opening a bit to reveal his fangs, leaning in to bite your neck. "t-tsu...jeez warn me next time..." you sighed out with a blush on your face as tsukasa continued to sip on your blood.

      "hehe..." tsukasa pulled away from your neck, blood dripping down from the side of his lips in which he wiped it with his hand. "thank you [name]!" he cheerfully declared as he gave you a soft kiss on your lips, then he skipped his way out of your study room.

      "tsukasa... i swear." your whole face turned red. you never really blushed whenever he takes your blood. you reached your fingertips to your lips to replay the scene where tsukasa just kissed you.

      but you liked it nonetheless.

[bibblelevi]

you’d think there’d be more kitty reader and bf levi… hmm… anyways, it’s nothing original, but the general thought of levi taking in a kittygirl when he wasn’t planning on it. he’s a grumpy man living by himself and according to him it’s just temporary, but he gets attached to the precious kitty that’s curled up on his bed. even if she steals his clothes and hogs the blankets. -mystic/m

Warnings for hybrids and pet play but no explicit sexual content

M I MISSED YOU. GOD EVERYTHING YOU JUST SAID. I’m so here for the Kitty Gf Domestic Daydream with boyfriend Levi.

Levi does it for Hange, who decides to cash in on a favor he regretfully owes them.

You’re a quiet little thing, your shyness being the leading factor as to why Hange chose Levi to foster you—you wouldn’t bother him, or make to much of a mess, and you’re easily entertained. You can also stay home for long periods of time without any supervision, so he can go to work and not have to worry about leaving you alone.

The homecoming is a lot for Levi to get used to. He’s not used to sharing his space, or feeding someone other than himself, so when he’s at the breakfast table reading the paper and drinking a steaming cup of tea, he’s nearly forgotten that you’re here too until he sees you perched by the door frame. You’re looking at him with sad eyes and your ears are pushed back.

So he diverges from his routine and fixes you some food. “Here, girl,” he says in a monotonous.

You eat silently and leave him alone. He doesn’t know how desperate you are to be liked by him. (You had overhead Hange saying your owner was easily irritable, so the last thing you want to do is upset him.)

It takes a while before Levi touches you. But the first time he does, it’s after you joined him on the couch one day after work. You were sleepy and feeling lonely, so you plopped your chin onto his thigh and fell fast asleep. The minute you awoke, you felt a soft, somewhat hesitate touch on your head. He scratched you between your brows, and behind each of your ears, then the nape of your neck. Then he stopped completely when you nuzzled into his touch, baffled by the gesture.

If his apartment is too chilly, and he finds you shaking on top of the covers you’ve struggled to untuck, he immediately drops everything he’s doing and wraps you in a cozy blanket burrito. He’ll place you in his lap when he’s working at his desk so his body heat continues to warm you and the blanket. Sometimes, you slip your head under his sweater and press your cheek against his tummy. His skin is so soft and so warm. And Levi smells like the things you love.

He’s surprised at first, but he allows it—craves it in some way. Until he feels your mouth placing wet kisses along his abdomen.

“What are you doing, hm?” he murmurs as he reads the computer screen. You wriggle around until you’re sitting upright in his lap, then poke your head through the neck hole of the sweater, bringing the two of you face to face.

His scowl seems to soften, the corners of his mouth lifting very subtly.

You just rest your chin on his shoulder and fall asleep on him.

Something else you do, which he finds a bit strange, is bite him. It’s not painful biting, where you’re trying to hurt him, but it’s just… something you do. He wonders if it’s a bit of an oral fixation, but you often neglect any toys in favor of gently clamping your teeth down over his shoulder or neck or arm. You’ll do it anywhere on his body. Until he starts to secretly really like it.

[seoberrybins]

𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

Pairings: Lee Minho x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: Character death, mentions of old age, reader is immortal

Word count: 1.4k words

"Ah, Y/n! Good morning. Here to visit your grandfather again?" The receptionist said as soon as she sees you walk through the hospital doors, the familiar sterile smell immediately engulfs your senses. "Good morning to you too, Ms. Kim." You greet the elderly woman as you walk towards her, flowers in hand. "How is he today?" You ask her as soon as you were near the counter, silently hoping that you get good news. Ms. Kim's smile suddenly turns into a slight frown before heaving out a sigh, eyeing you apologetically. You feel your heart constrict against your chest and it was as if your throat fell into your stomach.

You knew that look. You knew what it meant. And no matter how many lifetimes you've seen it already, it's just something you really can't get used to.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before you decided that it was time to actually go see him. So you gave Ms. Kim a smile, albeit a little bit forced, and a quick 'see you later' before turning on your heels.

The walk towards his room felt like hours, the anxiety of needing to be with him as soon as possible consumes you as you start to become hyperaware of your surroundings.

Since when did this elevator move so slow?

After mindlessly walking through the hallways, you finally reach his room, and as you stand before it, hundreds of thoughts flow through your mind and you feel your palms start to get sweaty.

Would he still be alive if I open this door?

You can never get used to this kind of fear, no matter how many times you've been through it. It was like a never-ending cycle of pain, the price to pay for falling in love with a mere mortal.

As you drew in a shaky breath, you knock on the door three times before opening it. The familiar sound of the steady beeping of the heart monitor first greets you and you sigh in relief, releasing a breath that you didn't realize that you were holding.

"Hey, you." You hear a hoarse voice say as soon as you step in and you smile. "Hello to you too," you greet back as you make your way towards his bed, all the while as you take in his fragile figure. At the ripe age of 80, he never seemed to lose his signature smirk mischievous smirk. His skin was wrinkled and his hair has now turned grey, and his once healthy figure has now turned weak and frail over time.

His organs are slowly failing and yet here you are, stuck with the same healthy, youthful body back when you were 22.

"How are you feeling, my love?" You ask him as you smooth your fingers over his grey locks, sitting by the chair that was beside his bed. "Good as new." He jokes and you chuckle, shaking your head in the process. "Liar," you retort with a scoff, trying to sound confident. But Minho has known you all his life. He knows you too well to decipher the sadness in your voice.

He's been married to you for fifty years already, disguising him as your grandpa was only a ruse.

"I'll be fine, I promise." He reassures you, his frail hand coming up to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. "Don't move too much, Min. You need to conserve your energy." You said as you gently take his hand into yours, your thumb gently rubbing on his skin. Before he can even argue with you, like he would always do, you show him the flowers you brought him in an attempt to change the subject. "I brought you some daisies." You say, picking one from the bouquet before putting one on his hand.

Minho chuckles at that until his chuckles turn into a coughing fit, startling you in the process. "Here, here. Drink some water, baby, please." You worriedly tell him as you grab the cup of water from the bedside table. Minho's chest heaves heavily as he catches his breath while he pushes the cup of water away, shaking his head no. "I-I'm fine, just--" he says as he wheezes, his breathes coming in short. "Minho, please. I need you to drink your water." You plead with him, trying to give him the water once again.

At this point, you were close to crying, tears were already welling up in your eyes when he declines the water once again. "Y/n," Minho weakly calls out after finally coming down from his coughing fit. "Come here, don't cry." He says, his hand coming up to cup your face. "Shhh, it's okay. I don't want to see my pretty girl crying." He wipes the tears from your eyes as he says that and you chuckle at his words, a bitter smile forming on your lips.

"When I first met you..." A smile forms on Minho's face as he recalls that day, the memory replaying in his mind as if it were only yesterday. "You accidentally spilled coffee on me and I remember how embarrassed you were." He recalls with a chuckle. "And you apologized to me by giving me a daisy that you picked from the school garden." You also laugh at the memory as tears continue to silently stream from your eyes. "I didn't know what else to do, I panicked." You mutter and Minho only nods. "Yeah, I remember." Minho softly says, his eyes closing in bliss.

Minho sighs when he opens his eyes once again, his loving gaze never leaving yours. "I'm so glad that you spilled your coffee on me that day." You nod at his words as you hold onto his hand, the one that holds your cheek, as you lean further into his touch. "I never regret meeting you, Lee Y/n." He says as he puts the daisy that you gave him on your ear, the action making you cry even harder. But even so, you try to put on the best smile that you can muster.

"Tell me... will we meet again soon?" He asks rather innocently, like a kid saying goodbye to a friend he met at the park. You nod quickly, "yes, we will. I promise. I'll be waiting for you, my love." You choke out a sob, now watching as Minho's eyes flutter close. "I love you," he breathes out, the beeping in the heart monitor now slowing down. "I love you, too. So, so much." You lean in to whisper on his ear. And as he drew his last breath, a smile forms on his lips.

The chime of the bell echoes throughout your shop, a cue for you to mindlessly welcome the customer that had just entered, too busy with fixing the bills in the cashier to even take notice of who it was.

"Excuse me, how much do daisies cost nowadays?" The familiar voice makes you stop in your tracks, your eyes widening in shock as you feel your heart jump to your throat. As you lift your head from the counter, you see him, browsing through the display of flowers laid before him and you can't help but slightly tear up. "Oh, uh, we sell them for a dollar per stem." You said as you regained your composure, fumbling to fix the front of your uniform.

The heart monitor flattens and the monotonous sound echoes throughout the room. You cry as you feel his grip on you weaken until it falls limp on his side. "I'll always find you again and again," you tell him, but at this point, it was as if you were only telling it to yourself. "And I'll love every version of you," you mutter as you caress his wrinkled face, "I promise, we'll meet again."

He turns to look at you the moment he hears your voice and you see the glint of recognition that flashes through his eyes. "I'm sorry, but..." he says as he walks closer to you, "have I met you before? It's like I've seen you somewhere." He says as lets out a flustered chuckle.

You heave out a sigh as a smile forms on your lips, the familiar cycle of getting to know each other again starts. "I'm sorry but I think you mistook me for someone else." You say and he shrugs as he smiles apologetically, a bit embarrassed to say the least. "Oh, is that so? I'm sorry, I just really thought that we met before. I'm Minho by the way, Lee Minho." He says as he stretches his hand out while he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. You chuckle at that as you take his hand in yours, giving him a firm handshake.

Finally, after waiting for 23 years, you finally found him again, just like you've promised.

"My name is Y/n. Nice to meet you."

[sunlightmurdock]

Katie!! 💜 happy Easter, I hope you’re having a wonderful day! I’m high key obsessed with the Parent Trap and currently procrastinating finishing up this Bradley fic I’m working on, so I’m sending in a thot about pre-divorce Parent Trap Rooster and Mama Bradshaw sneaking off into the backyard at night with glasses of wine after the twins are asleep, giggling like a couple of teenagers and fucking in the pool/hot tub 🫠 - @sugarcoated-lame 💜💜💜

Ashdefhrgh KRICKET THIS HAD ME SCREAMING omggggg

So, it’s a Friday night and Bradley’s got the next couple of days off of work after some really gruelling hours in the sky over the past week, and the girls both had a sickness bug this week so mama Bradshaw is just as exhausted as he is — the second that those two terrors hit the pillow, they’re in absolute agreement that they need to unwind. Big time. This is while Phoenix’s was staying with you for that week that she and her girlfriend were in a big fight, so, Bradley tosses the baby monitor into her room and tells her that he owes her one.

Then, he’s got a bottle of red and two glasses in one hand and two rolled up towels in the other.

“I vote that we skinny dip.” You call to him as he closes the patio doors behind them. His lips are already tugging upwards into a grin and your hands are already going for the tie at the back of your neck, but he questions it anyway with a soft why’s that. She grins as she pulls at the tie and lets the knot fall apart, “Because it’s our hot tub and I’ve never been naked in it!”

“Excellent point, honey.” Bradley chuckles, kissing her temple as you step out of your bikini bottoms, stepping around her to set the wine and glasses down on the table. “Me too, huh?”

You’re already stepping up and sitting down against the bench, dipping your shoulders under the water and beaming at him as you give a slow nod. Bradley glances back towards the house and silently thanks whoever built it for putting the guest room at the front so that he doesn’t traumatise his best friend. He pushes his shorts down and instinctively cups a hand over himself as he gets in.

You scoot closer and drape one leg over his, kissing his shoulder softly, “Wine, please. Don’t bother with the glasses.”

Rooster doesn’t need to be told twice. You straddling his lap, taking turns sipping out of the bottle of wine, telling each other about your weeks.

“And then she asked me if I was sad because I had to share my bedroom with a boy!” You giggle, shaking your head at the memory of your daughter’s truly concerned little face, Rooster laughs in response and leans his head back. “They said I could move into their room with them if I wanted.”

Another laugh spills from his lips as you drink from the bottle and set it on the edge. You drape your arms around his broad shoulders and kiss his cheek softly.

“I’d miss you if you moved out,” Rooster grins, nosing at you jaw as his hands curl around your hips. “Would make Mommy and Daddy time a little more difficult.” You hum in agreement, closing the gap between the two of you and kissing his lips softly.

“Mm, I do like Mommy and Daddy time,” You nod, rocking your bare core down against him. He keeps you flush against him with one arm as he guides himself between your legs with his free hand. “Could do with a little Daddy time right now, actually.”

He chuckles softly and kisses your temple. Skin warm, his flushed and pink from the heat, he kisses sporadically at your face, your naked chest and your throat as you ride him. He grunts into your neck as you tug playfully at his roots. You gasp, head thrown back, squeezing at his biceps. He squeezes his arms tight around your middle, turning his face towards your neck.

“Christ, I can’t feel my legs.” You mumble, swallowing hard as you try to stand up. Bradley smirks, securing his towel around his waist and grabbing yours.

“C’mere, honey, I’ve got you.” He reaches out towards you, pulling you into his arms and setting you on the ground. You stumble forwards unsteadily as he drapes the towel around you. “Is this the wine or the sex?”

“Mm, both.” You giggle, pressing your face into his chest and draping your arms around his waist.

.

[ppersonna]

out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults. 

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow. 

“What’s got you so perky this morning?” 

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead. 

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. “I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness. 

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts. 

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag. 

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams. 

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer. 

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words. 

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists. 

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares. 

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer. 

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces. 

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”. 

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?” 

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches. 

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic. 

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help. 

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.  

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?” 

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply. 

“Yes, I would l-love that.” 

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away. 

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey! 

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.  

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.  

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp. 

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?” 

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes. 

“I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.  

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.” 

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn���t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.  

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off. 

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It’s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.  

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

tag list! - @jimidol @aretha170 @dearbambideer​ 

[selfcarecap]

I’ll Show You [m.j]

pairing: MJ x reader, MJ x Peter Parker, Peter Parker x reader? (barely)

summary: When your best friend MJ reveals quite a significant detail about her relationship with her boyfriend, you decide to take matters into your own hands… (literally)

warnings: smut, cheating but only kind of (this is fanfiction and does not necessarily represent my irl views lmaoshsksjshh💀) sarcastic reader (towards Peter) idk, weed, mentions of underage drinking (under 21 but they’re at least 18), brief arguing lol

word count: 2.9k

-this is a repost of an old fic-

gifs not mine (does two gifs look ugly? lmk yskshs)

Music thrums softly against the door as your head falls onto MJ’s shoulder, giggling amongst yourselves while all the other people at the party are getting loud. You’re just high. Much better.

Even Peter and Ned are part of the people with red cups in their hands, although they’re not as extreme as most other guys at college. It’s still illegal for them to drink and they’ve told you about how that makes them feel bad.

You, too, only drink rarely but there was that one time Peter accidentally took a sip of your rum and coca cola and it’s been his favourite drink ever since. But with that Spider-Man metabolism he’s sober after about twenty minutes before he drinks again and feels different for a few minutes only to have to drink again.

They’re all dizzy and dancing, all over the place. You and your best friend MJ prefer the laid back act of smoking weed.

The four of you, MJ with her boyfriend Peter, Ned, and you only go to parties every so often and only when all four of you are in the mood. Today is one of those nights. Even if the two pairs of you have completely different definitions of partying and having fun. And that’s okay.

You and MJ talk about the most pointless things in the safety of some guy named Chad’s bedroom - at least that’s what the sign on the door says, no one has complained about you two being here.

“How often do you and Peter have sex?”

You just put the question out there, not meaning to make MJ shift as uncomfortably as she suddenly does.

“You don’t have to answer, I was just thinking - how amazing would an orgasm be while high?” You spread your fingers in the air, holding your hand up high just to emphasise how amazing you think it would feel.

“I wouldn’t know.” She smiles from beside you on the bed.

“Huh? Oh, you mean an orgasm while high? Me neither.”

“No I mean um.. an orgasm.”

“You what?” You purse your lips and look at her incredulously, “So you mean Peter-”

“You what?” You purse your lips and look at her incredulously, “So you mean Peter-”

“Wouldn’t be of use in that department.” She finishes your sentence.

You’re a mixture of confused, amused, shocked... sad?

Her and Peter have been together for what? Two years and he‘s never made her orgasm? Peter seems like the first person to want to make his girlfriend feel good, you know he never did anything before being with MJ but you were sure he seemed like the type who is eager to learn…

“So it’s just him? I mean you’ve still got your own hands though, right?” Your hand slides down your belly, under your jeans and MJ playfully slaps your arm with a laugh.

“Noo! I don’t do that, I’ve got Peter!”

“Yeah, well, he’s not really doing the job, is he?” Your hand comes to rest against your cheek, holding you up as you lie down next to MJ, facing her with a curious look as she bites her lip.

“You know there’s nothing wrong with masturbating especially if your boyfriend isn’t competent enough.”

“I know but sex with him still feels very good, who knows maybe I’ve had an orgasm before.” She shrugs.

“If you’ve had an orgasm you would know for sure - it’s amazing. So what’s up with Peter? Does he know or do you fake it?” She shrugs again, still seeming too happy and indifferent for someone who’s aware that they’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing an orgasm.

She remembers how they had their first few times.

After it stopped hurting for her, Peter would always ask if she came and when she said no he would feel bad, attempting and failing to make her come. So eventually MJ just faked it because he was too adorably frustrated that he couldn’t bring her the pleasure she deserved.

And so it just continued. And after months and months it would have been too awkward to tell the truth all of a sudden, also because MJ never had any valid reason to lie and it‘s not like Peter‘s an asshole who doesn‘t care.

“I love him and I know that he loves me and like I said it does feel good. It’s enough for me, really, I’m not some kind of sex-crazed person, you know?”

“Neither am I and I still masturbate but okay… But what about equality, MJ? Thought you’d be the first to demand an orgasm if that’s what you give him?” You smile and with that you’ve got her. She doesn’t add to the topic any further and you go back to your previous conversations.

Though after a while MJ notices how you’re being all pouty and rather low-spirited. You’re usually all giggly and happy when you two get high.

“You okay? Is this the usual stuff?” MJ nudges your leg with hers.

“Yeah, yeah. Just kind of sad that you’ve never had an orgasm. Also a little mad at Peter.”

What she says next surprises you;

“I mean it’s never too late to start… But part of the problem is that I don’t even know what to tell him. I’ve never done anything myself and have no idea what feels good enough to.. you know.”

You don’t hesitate before saying it: “I could help you.”

MJ is silent for a few seconds. “No that.. that wouldn’t be right without Peter.”

“But would you want me to?”

She nods shyly and bites her lip as you scoot closer to her.

“I’m sure Peter won’t mind. You know with the relationship between you and me, the history and everything.”

(Mj has no clue what you’re talking about - she’s known Peter longer than she’s known you but she’ll take it.)

“I’ll go ask him, okay?” You hold your finger up signalling MJ to wait here and you’re out of the room before she can interject.

MJ thinks of following you but even though she’s a little worried how this whole situation will seem in front of Peter, MJ wants it, and she trusts her best friend and waits for you on the bed.

-

You find Peter downstairs after about five minutes, him and Ned and some other college guys you don’t know are having a Just Dance competition, a red cup in his hands but he seems very reliable and aware, sober enough for you to ask and get a proper answer.

“Uh hey Peter,” He turns around, greeting you with a smile, “You mind if I show your girl some fun?”

“You two smoking again?” You nod and bite your lip, thinking about MJ waiting for you upstairs.

“Yeah no problem, do whatever you want, just stay safe - where are you just so you know where to find you?”

“Last bedroom on the right, I believe it’s Chad’s room or something.”

“Okay see you later, say hi to her from me, have fun.” He smiles one last time before going back to his dancing competition with Ned.

Oh you will.

You run up the stairs and to the bathroom to give yourself a quick glance in the mirror.

Your eye make-up is a little smudged but with a few wipes it’s back to being nearly flawless.

You give your hair a few tugs and scrunches, turning and looking at your own reflection over your shoulder. You look good.

Your eyes are still a bit red despite not feeling high anymore. You’re completely sobered up at the thought of what’s about to happen.

You wonder for a moment whether MJ is only doing this because she’s high and can’t think straight, but you’ll just make sure to talk to her.

After washing your hands, you hurry back to the room to find MJ with her legs pulled up to her chest, a finger nervously between her teeth.

“Did you find him?”

“Yes he’s totally cool with it, just like I thought.”

The tension leaves her shoulders and she smiles, making room for you on the bed.

“Just one last question. Are you too high to consent?”

“No, not at all to be honest. Not any more. I want to do this but only if you do too, but you don’t have to do this just because you feel bad for me.”

“I’m not doing this because I feel bad for you, but because you deserve to feel good. And if I can help you then I‘m more than happy to do so.”

She automatically spreads her legs when you sit down in front of her.

“Also, I don’t want to promise that I’ll make you cum because I’ve never been with a girl. But I think it’s easier for me than for Peter because I know what everything feels like and I’ll gladly try.” Your hands stroke along her bare legs, and you’re happy she wore a skirt to the party for once.

You’re not sure what’s appropriate in this situation, so your hands and your lips stay at her legs, pushing her skirt higher and peppering her inner thighs with kisses and flicks of your tongue.

“Just think about something that sexually excites you,” you tell her and she nods, closing her eyes, “You wanna tell me? You don’t have to.”

“I don’t want this to come across as weird but.. this is quite exciting,” she nervously fiddles with the hem of her skirt but you’re quick to reassure her, “It’s not weird. I think so too.”

And with that she finally relaxes into the large pillows behind her and you lift one of her legs over your shoulder, moving closer between her legs.

As she drags her skirt up to her waist, she also pulls her red shirt up to reveal her bare chest.

“No bra? I like that.” You smile and she laughs.

You move up to lick her nipples, knowing how much that can add to someone’s pleasure and she gasps at the wetness of your mouth against her, breathing hard now.

“Okay okay, I’m turned on enough now you can..” she smiles, telling you it’s enough foreplay and when your fingers wander to her panties you can already feel how wet she is, proud of yourself as you wonder if Peter’s ever made her feel this good.

Although you’d love to tease her some more, you also just want to make MJ feel good and your fingers start trailing up and down the front of her panties, and it’s like you can feel her flooding her underwear at your touch.

You decide to pull her panties off her legs completely and she’s nearly so wet that it looks like she’s already cum.

You gather some of the wetness with your finger and start circling her clit and her legs around your head twitch.

She’s already squirming with just your finger touching her, you decide to pull away and instead both your fingers spread her lips and your tongue presses against her clit instead.

“Fuck MJ, you taste really good,” you hear a swallowed moan from above you and you tell her she can be loud to which she responds with the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard.

You try flicking, sucking, swirling your tongue at her clit, and once you move your tongue in a circular motion her whole body jerks forward, so you stay with that.

“Fuck that feels good”

“Yeah, you close?” You pause for only a second before going back to making her feel good.

“I think so, don’t stop.”

Your tongue continues working her over and as her legs tense and her eyes squeeze shut, you can tell she’s there. You watch her as she comes undone on your tongue, and you’re grateful for every second of pleasure you get to give her.

You don’t stop until she’s pushing your head away, out of breath.

“Sorry, just wanted your first orgasm to be amazing.”

“Fuck, it was, that really was fucking amazing”, she breathes.

“Wanna go again?” And with how you look between her legs, and how good you’ve made her feel, and it didn’t even take you more than five minutes, she definitely wants to go again.

-

“Hey Ned, mind if I go and look for MJ and Y/N, see where they are?”

But Ned is preoccupied, celebrating his third win of the Just Dance competition so Peter pats him on the shoulder and makes his way up to the room you’d told Peter you and MJ were smoking in.

He finds a room at the end of the hall with a sign saying ‘Chad’ on it and pushes the door open.

“Hey I thought I‘d just come check on you tw-”

He stops at the sight. You’re lying between his girlfriend’s legs, your tongue inside of her and her hands tugging at your hair.

“Uh, what the fuck I-” But he’s at loss for words.

MJ pulls her skirt down, covering absolutely nothing, and opens her mouth but you beat her to it.

“You said it was okay so don’t look like you’ve just witnessed a murder and also can you shut the fucking door!” You shout, already seeing anger on his stupidly surprised face.

“What you said was that you two were going to have fun and when I asked if you were smoking you said yes I assumed you meant that!” His arms flail around as he points at you, at MJ, then at himself.

“You said stay safe and then have fun and I assumed that was an allusion to sex!”

“What no, I meant because you were smoking!”

Of course you’re aware of your vagueness when you first talked to Peter. But he’s mad and MJ looks more than terrified and you can feel your own blood boiling so you bring up the topic that really matters.

“Peter, you can’t be mad at me when I just gave poor MJ her very first orgasm!” you reason and for the first time since he’s come in the room he doesn’t look like he’s about to kill you for making his girlfriend have an orgasm (which was ridiculous to begin with).

“What no I-” He doesn’t believe you at first but then he looks at MJ, sees her (not justified) guilty expression, and realises he’s fucked up.

“So we’ve been together for two years and you’ve been lying to me this whole time! Why would you do that?” And he’s mad again.

“Hey don’t give MJ shit for your lack of skill!”

For the first time MJ chimes in. “Sex isn’t all that important in our relationship and you do put in an effort and I appreciate it. It just isn’t enough but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“My feelings? What, I feel like the biggest asshole. I’ve been getting off all this time and you didn’t even say anything - wow - I’m so stupid.” For the first time tonight you agree with what Peter’s saying, “I’m sorry, I should’ve paid more attention to you. I was so sure that your orgasms were real…” He looks at the floor and although you’re still proud that you could give MJ what he couldn’t, you let his hurt and sad puppy look get to you and stand up, slapping his chest lightly.

“Stop moping and come here. It’s not too late to learn, Parker. I’ll show you,” you pull him down onto the bed to join you and his girlfriend.

MJ sits up, still worried.

“We’re good, right?” MJ asks. She just got eaten out by someone who is not her boyfriend so you guess the question is rather valid, but you roll your eyes anyway.

“Of course, I mean I should be asking you that, I’m the one who fucked up.”

“You have a lot to make up for,” MJ looks at you while she talks to Peter and you nod, letting her know what she’s saying is right, “But yes we’re good, I love you.”

“I love you.”

You watch them kiss and see his eyebrows furrow at the new taste on MJ’s lips. He doesn’t say anything but with his advanced senses he smells the same between MJ’s legs and on your face and he really wishes he’d been there to see what you two got up to.

*

You’re more than proud to say that you made MJ come in less than half of the time Peter took.

You say goodbye to both of them as they seem to want a bit of alone time, but you’ll always know you made MJ come first.

She smooths down her skirt and stands up with you, shutting the door behind her so that Peter can’t hear you two talking in the hallway.

“Thanks for today, I’ll have to repay you sometime,” she whispers to you with a knowing smirk before she slips back into the room to return to her boyfriend.

[velvethopewrites]

A Question of Strength

Ginny weeps at the funerals only.

She cries so hard for Fred - gut wrenching, body-sobbing tears that she is embarrassed to think about. And then she cries for Tonks, knowing she will never see her friend’s funny faces again. And finally, for Professor Lupin and his painful life.  Ginny even cries a little bit for Teddy, who is of course, not dead, but now an orphan. A life barely begun but already filled with so much pain. 

As the second round of funerals begin, she thinks she finally has the crying out of her system, but Ginny cries buckets for Colin. Sweet, sweet Colin. And, just when she truly feels that she can cry no more, a lonely, sad, traitorous almost-desperate-tear even falls for Severus bloody Snape. Something she can scarce believe but it is there, on the inside of her hand after it has fallen its weary path down her face. 

She feels mesmerized staring at it until Hermione tugs on her sleeve to pull her away. Snape’s is the final funeral they attend and maybe it is that more than anything that gets to Ginny. Finally, the mourning can stop. Or, perhaps, she would have cried more but at this point the tears have all dried away and she only has one tear left to spare for the man who made her life living hell and yet saved so many. Saved Harry.

She is shocked at herself - because Ginny does not like to cry. In fact, since the insanity of her first year, has made a deal with herself not to cry. Ever. Crying is a weakness. And she knows she needs to be strong for her family. She needs to be strong for her friends. 

And Ginny knows she needs to be strong for Harry, who is often as silent as the graves they’ve created recently. He goes off alone a lot, but she is always there when he comes back. Giving him her strength, if he needs it. 

It’s what she does, Ginny, - be strong. Be there for others. She takes their pain into herself and comforts. Holds their hands. Hugs them. She stays up late drinking Firewhiskey with George when everyone else has gone to sleep. She listens to Hermione talk about the time in the tent- hears the pain that is still too fresh that her friend does not mention. She works next to Ron doing the dishes (he washes, she dries) as he talks to their Mum, the both of them keeping Molly company in the early hours. She brings her father a hot cup of tea after a tough day at the Ministry, because all the days are tough now. Because their world is changing. And it is for the better, yes, but it is still a long and arduous undertaking. And no one wants to mess it up - this change for the better. No one wants to be caught lollygagging - not when so many have given their lives for a better Wizarding World. 

It is the dark-haired boy with the lightning-bolt shaped scar that has her utmost attention, though. Even though she does not hover, and she does not push. She doesn’t even speak if he doesn’t want her to because Ginny knows all too well how well-meaning people can be when all you really want is to be left alone. 

She does not want to add to Harry’s anguish. She thinks she’ll be able to tell when it is time to pull him out of it. She’s always been able to before, after all. Ginny doesn’t even think Harry notices her, to be honest, and it’s okay. She will stay here - waiting - stalwart in her desire to be there when he needs her. He saved their world - he saved her - and he deserves this time for himself if he needs it.

Many, many weeks after the final funeral, Ginny is sitting alone in the apple orchard behind their house. The sun is beating down on her fair skin and she can feel the sweat dripping downwards over her. Even her hair feels warm and wet at the back of her neck, but she does not move to the shade. She can’t. Ginny feels she has reached the end of her tether. She cannot take it anymore, this being strong for everyone but herself. And maybe it is stupid and silly for a redhead with freckles to sit in the warm summer sun but she doesn’t care anymore. It feels good in a way, the harsh warmth of it, the sunburn she will probably develop later. Maybe she will even relish the pain of it because at least…at least…the pain will remind her that she is alive. 

She is startled when he sits down next to her. She hadn’t heard him - hadn’t even smelled him - that warm, woodsy scent that Harry always has that makes her heart do loop-de-loops in her chest. He hands her a broom after she doesn’t say anything and she does look up at that, a question on her face, she is sure. Harry merely smiles at her and tilts his head. Does she want to? Oh, yes, Ginny realizes. She does.

And they fly and it is brilliant. They go long and they go fast and for the first time in a month, Ginny hears herself laugh and then Harry is laughing too, and God, it is beautiful! the sound of his laughter. And she knows it has been too long since either of them have experienced anything that could cause laughter and she feels as though this needs to be rectified from now on. If he’ll let her she’ll spend the rest of her days making him laugh.

When they land he winks at her, and squeezes her shoulder in reassurance. Ginny knows then that he has been paying attention. He has noticed her being strong and she feels a rush of emotion so raw that it almost makes her cry - but this time she doesn’t. Instead, she just smiles and takes Harry’s hand. And there is strength in his touch. Ginny finally understands that their strength comes from being together.