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userlando · 1 year

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got drunk on you — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x verstappen!reader [6.5k] summary: max comes for a visit before the race in monza and he fails to mention that he'd invited daniel along. warnings: 18+ explicit smut, verstappen!reader, explicit language. a/n: not me writing this during my 12hr shift lmfao i hope it's somewhat enjoyable to read. as always, feedback is v much appreciated. love you all 🤍

The first time you saw Daniel, was when he’d been clad in orange at the paddock in Bahrain. It wasn’t so much as your eyes being drawn to him automatically, but more so his laughter. You still remembered where you stood with Max and his girlfriend, offering words of support to your brother before qualifiers. Your eyes had solely been on him, but they’d immediately glanced around at sound of the big belly laugh from across the paddock, drawn like a moth to a flame.

It wasn’t hard to match the laughter to the smiling face, watching with mild interest as he messed around with Lando; slapping him between the legs and dodging the punches the British boy dished out in retaliation. He looked fun, carefree, bearing absolutely no tension or nerves that half the grid did for the upcoming race.

Daniel was beautiful. There was no other word to describe him. The sheer charm radiating off of him had your interest piqued immediately, and pairing that with the forbidden fruit feeling, you were hooked. There had never been any real desire to break the unspoken rule of you dating your brother’s friends and colleagues, but it was easy to imagine stepping over that line when you’d watched the tall Australian.

No words were exchanged, but you did get glances and friendly smiles whenever you passed each other. Your best friend received the brunt of your inner thoughts, texting her like a madman of the tall glass of water on the grid.

When Max won, you’d gone back to the hotel and had a few drinks while you got ready for the after party, keeping Sofia - your friend - on the line. She’d somehow convinced you to follow him on Instagram, which you did, and you’d tried not to overthink it when he’d sent you a follow request back a few minutes later.

If liking pictures was flirting, then you were well on the right track.

You’d only ever gotten glimpses of him whenever you did end up tagging along to races, but the first time you actually met him was when Max showed up on your doorstep with Kelly, claiming that he missed his little sister and wanted to spend a few days with you before he was off to Monza. You didn't point out that you'd be right there with him in Italy, accepting his intrusion easily because despite it all, you missed him a whole lot.

What he’d failed to mention was that Daniel would be dropping by too, having invited him without checking with you. It usually wasn’t a problem, sometimes guys from the grid would show up with your brother and it was always a good time.

You really, really wished he’d mentioned it before you opened the door the morning after your brother’s arrival though, still in your very embarrassing pajamas and a toothbrush used and abandoned in your bathroom, fully expecting to see the delivery man on the other end. What you didn’t expect was the tall man who you’d silently been yearning for, looking way too good for someone who'd stepped off a plane.

“Hey.” He greeted you, shooting you a smile that made you blink owlishly. “Good morning.”

You frowned, opening your mouth to greet him but was pushed to the side by your idiot brother. There was a loud and silly exchange between the two men, like you weren’t standing right there with a big question mark on your face, and you watched in silence before Daniel’s gaze on you made Max turn around; like he’d forgotten you were there. In your own home.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you but I invited Daniel.” Max said and you refrained from glaring at him, giving the other man a kind smile instead. “It’s no problem, yeah?”

Killing your brother would have to wait.

“Hi, sorry, of course not.” You thrust your hand out for him to shake, which he did. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

You invited him in, closing the door and shooting your brother a glare when his friend wasn’t looking. He responded with a clueless frown of his own, eyes dropping to what you were wearing.

“What are you wearing?” He asked, yelping when you elbowed him a little too hard in the ribs. “And what do you have on your face?”

He reached a hand out to swipe at your cheek, rubbing off toothpaste and you watched in horror, wanting nothing more than the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

Thankfully, Max lead the way without another word, chatting with the Australian as he showed him to the room he’d presumably be staying in. You watched them round a corner before fleeing to the kitchen, finding Kelly by the stove, looking ten times more put together than you did. The whole place smelled like pancakes, and you almost lost your track of thoughts just by the sheer smell of them. But you were too wound up, a little upset and a whole lot embarrassed.

“What is he doing here?” You asked, careful to keep your voice hushed because you knew how well sound traveled through your house. “Why didn’t Max say anything!”

Kelly looked a little lost, like she wasn’t sure why you were as upset as you were. Which, fair, she didn’t know the absolute turmoil you’d experience whenever you caught sight of Daniel. It was embarrassing, how nervous the man made you. Like a teenaged girl with a crush on her brother's best friend.

“I thought he did.” She looked over her shoulder at you before plating a pancake with practiced ease. “He’s coming with us to the vineyard.”

You leaned against the counter, feeling a little miffed and she must’ve seen the look on your face because she smiled in amusement.

“You’re the one who complained about third wheeling when I booked the tour for us.”

She had a point, but you didn’t say it out loud. Instead, you plucked a cut up strawberry from a plate and turned around to go get ready before the boys came back. The giraffe pajamas had caused you enough embarrassment for a day. It was time for them to retire deep, deep in the back of the closet.

Breakfast was surprisingly pleasant, conversation flowing freely as you dug into your food. You’d forgotten how incredibly well your brother and Daniel fit together, bickering like siblings and taking friendly jabs at each other. Kelly shifted the conversation to the vineyard you’d be touring, talking about the kinds of wines they made and would have in the menu.

It was a beautiful day to spend outside, the Spanish sun shining brightly as you found your little group huddled around the entrance. It was a small group consisting of maybe fifteen people, and you looked around as Kelly and Max walked ahead of you.

“D’ya reckon we’ll get drunk off our asses?” Daniel asked and you gave the man an amused smile.

“I don’t think the samples are that big.” You frowned. “Right?”

“No clue.” He looked ahead as the two of you fell into step, presumably glancing at Max. “Do you like wine?”

You considered lying, but then you figured that it wouldn’t do much harm to just be honest so you shook your head in the negative.

“Absolutely hate it.” You let out a small giggle when Daniel laughed, bumping his arm against yours. “I’m sorry but it smells and tastes so bad!”

“It does the job, though, no?”

You smiled, opening your mouth to reply but Max cut in, yelling at you to hurry up and join them. The tour guide had appeared like magic, out of thin air, and he was standing to the side patiently. You eyed him suspiciously, turning to Kelly to ask her whether it was an English or Spanish tour, but then the man started speaking and your suspicion turned into sheer amusement.

“Why’s he speaking Spanish?” Max murmured quietly enough for only the three of you to hear.

“Because we’re in Spain, Max.” You answered him sarcastically, earning a snort from Daniel and an exasperated eye roll from your brother.

Kelly made a sound in her throat, sounding a lot like a warning to shut up like she did so many times whenever the two of you started bickering in public.

“I think I might’ve booked the wrong guide.” Kelly admitted sheepishly, quietly and you muffled a laugh behind your hand.

It was a funny thought, that she’d managed to choose a tour with a Spanish guide when only one out of the four of you could speak the language. The one being you. You knew it was only a matter of time before your brother would disassociate out of boredom, and you couldn’t wait to witness it.

“He’s telling us to follow him.” You murmured helpfully, referring to the guide and the group moved in tandem as everyone entered the vineyard.

The tour went as well as expected, watching with mild interest and confusion as you walked the fields, descending stairs to basements and getting to sip on samples of expensive wine in the dampness of old cellars.

You tried not to grimace too hard when you brought the glass to your lips, stomach roiling dangerously as you sipped. And it was only when you’d shuddered that you noticed Daniel watching and grinning across from you, catching you in the act.

At some point, you lost sight of Max and Kelly. You suspected that they’d broken out of the group and gone to the restaurant to sample more wines; like their lips weren’t already stained and Kelly wasn’t starting to get into that giggly mood she always got into when she’d had a little much to drink.

You and Daniel stuck together though, eventually wandering off and getting lost in the field of grapes and greens.

It was fun. More fun than you’d had in a while. You took silly pictures, talked and you forgot the time completely.

“I think Max is a little drunk.” You pointed out, holding your phone in your hand with the screen lit up by a text from the man himself.

You held out your phone so Daniel could read the text, watching how he threw his head back to laugh at the jumble of words he found there. Much like the texts he’d sometimes receive after bar crawls and night clubs.

where arew yoh?? This wind is amazing

??? Wind not wind

WINE

are yyu lost? do I nee f to call for help

“He’s trashed.” Daniel agreed.

You sent back a quick assurance that you were fine, pocketing your phone and looking up to find the man already looking at you. It sent a zip of awareness down your back and you looked away bashfully.

The sun had done a lot of good for him, his cheeks were gaining colour and had already started to freckle. It was pretty, and so, so endearing.

“So, are you excited for Monza?” You asked lightly, turning a corner in the hopes of finding the way back to the restaurant but it was another dead end.

The both of you kept walking though, figuring that you’d find your way back eventually. You just hoped it would be before it got dark outside. Max was drunk, but he’d send a search party out and you had no doubt about that.

“Oh yeah, I got it in the bag.” He said, playful, easy. So very attractive. “Max doesn’t stand a chance.”

You laughed, shoving him in the side and he stumbled with a cackle; regaining his footing easily.

"The most skillful driver out there." It wasn't a complete lie, Daniel was one of the good ones. He just needed a team that could keep up with his speed.

“I’m in the category of the more good looking drivers, actually.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” he puffs up his chest, lips getting sucked between his teeth in a poor effort to keep the massive smile off his face. “That’s what my mom said anyway.”

You let out a laugh, thinking of how utterly charming he was. It seemed to come naturally to him, and usually it’d intimidate you when that charm is paired with wildly good looks but he somehow managed to put you at ease.

It wasn’t difficult to see why Daniel was so popular and loved in and out of the grid. He made everyone feel like they were old childhood friends and that was a rare quality to possess.

“I’m starting to think that she lied, though.” He continued, like he hadn’t been staring at your smiling face for a beat too long.

You’d been staring too, though. He was too mesmerising.

“Why’s that?” You grinned, knowing that he’d say something that would reel you in completely, judging by the playful little shake of his head.

“Because you didn’t agree.” He laughed at your eyebrows jumping on your forehead. “You laughed too hard.”

“How do you know I wasn’t laughing out of agreement?” You narrowed your eyes a little playfully.

Daniel smiled, delighted that you were playing along and falling right into his little flirty traps. He couldn’t even remember why he was so nervous to talk to you in the first place.

But then you smiled at him, eyes glistening a little too prettily and it was like someone had knocked the breath out of him. So, he looked away and tried not to show how he’d suddenly felt like someone had pulled the rug right from underneath him.

Never mind that you were Max’s sister, knowing that there was some silent bro-code that he had to consider. It was hard when you had all the qualities he usually looked for in women. And not to mention how fucking attracted he was to you.

“So you do agree that I’m good looking.” He nodded, looking a little smug and you shook your head in amusement.

“Who doesn’t?” You asked, before you had any time to rethink the words coming out of your mouth.

He looked at you and you struggled to not break eye contact, even though your face was feeling a few degrees hotter. If he noticed your nerves, he didn’t say anything and you were eternally grateful for that.

“Well,” he sucked his teeth and tried not to look like his ego hadn’t tripled by that one comment. “ditto, sweetheart.”

The way he said it so casually almost made you stop in your tracks, heat creeping up your neck at the way the word sweetheart sounded on his tongue. You briefly wondered how it’d sound in other contexts.

The thought made your heart race and you quickly banished that thought, because what the fuck?

Daniel made a little sound and stopped walking, and you automatically looked up to notice that you’d finally found your way back. You laughed because somehow you’d accidentally circled around and ended up back where you started.

“Ready for some more wine?” Daniel asked jokingly, brushing his hand against yours and you resisted the urge to grab it.

It was easier to nod, words stuck in your throat as you made your way up the stairs to the restaurant.

It was night by the time you came stumbling back through the threshold of your house, Kelly and Max a little tipsy with Daniel not too far behind; judging by the slight flush on his cheeks that definitely hadn’t been caused by the Spanish sun.

Your cheeks were aching from smiling and laughing too much during the evening, heart feeling light as you navigated your way through the house. Your brother grabbed you with an arm around the shoulders, pulling you into his embrace so suddenly that it made you stumble.

“Easy, Max.” You let out a yelp when he smacked a kiss on your head, slapping at him with your hands until he eased his hold on you.

“Goodnight, bunny.” He was slurring a little, but the words sounded fond coming from his mouth.

You got a similar kiss from Kelly - but less sloppy - and you watched them walk away before disappearing out of sight. The sound of a half-snorted laugh made you turn around, finding Daniel hiding his smile behind his hand. Not that it did much hiding, eyes scrunched up in amusement.

“Bunny?” He referred to your brother’s nickname for you and you frowned in embarrassment. He easily recognised the sheer disdain colouring your face and was quick to plead. “No, no. I need to hear that story.”

“No, you really don’t.” You shook your head with a laugh and began walking to the kitchen. “It’s horrifying enough that you saw me in my pajamas this morning.”

Daniel let out a laugh this time, the sound echoing in the kitchen and you couldn’t even hide your smile even if you tried.

“Hey, giraffes are cute, alright?” He plucked a clean glass out a cabinet and accepted the water bottle you’d gotten out of the refrigerator. “I thought you looked good.”

“Oh, you’re a bad driver and a liar.” You hauled yourself up to sit on the counter.

“I’m not ly— you think I’m a bad driver?” He looked offended, voice going up an octave in sheer disbelief. “You really do have your brother’s sense of humour.”

You stretched a leg out to poke his waist and he easily caught your leg when you tried to pull back. A startled yelp left your lips at his quick reflexes, and you tried not to think too hard about the fact that he was trailing the grip up your leg as he inched closer to you.

“Tell me why he calls you bunny.” He said seriously, and you blinked in disbelief because how did he break the tension so fast?

“You’re not allowed to laugh.” You warned him and he nodded, the smile telling you that he was going to do exactly that. “I used to pretend to be a bunny when I was little. I’d demand carrots for dinner and it has just stuck through all these years.”

He threw his head back and cackled so loudly that you were almost worried that Max would come back out and see what the commotion was all about. But it was hard to deny that his laughter was contagious, so loud and carefree that you couldn’t find it in yourself to even pretend to be mad.

“That’s adorable!” He placed both hands on your thighs as he stepped between them, giving you a bright smile. “Did you hop around as well? Oh you did, didn’t you?”

Your embarrassed smile was enough of an answer, and it sent him into fits of laughter again until you groaned and hid your burning face behind your hands. Daniel’s peals of laughter slowly died down and he made a noise of protest, hands coming up to pry yours off your face.

“Don’t be embarrassed, bunny.” He said and you glared.

“Don’t call me that.” You pointed a finger at him. “Only Max is allowed because he rarely does anymore. I don’t want that nickname to stick.”

He held up his hands in surrender, sucking in his lips to stop himself from smiling and you held your own smile back while staring straight at him.

You hadn’t realised how close the two of you had gotten, your thighs on either side of his waist and him leaning oh, so close to you. There was a shift in the air then, where you both seemed to realize the position you found yourselves in. He didn’t make any moves to pull away though, and you weren’t about to be the one to push him away.

You were aware that you were playing a dangerous game, toeing the fine line that Max had drawn in the imaginary sand. There was no telling how your brother would react if he walked into the kitchen right now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as your hands found life of their own; trailing up the meaty expanse of Daniel’s arms until you reached his broad shoulders.

He wasn’t a massive guy, by any means, but he was defined and had muscle. It wasn’t so hard to see that he’d put in work to look the way he did, it came with his job after all.

“Can I…” His words died on his tongue when you glanced up at him, getting a little lost in your eyes and the way you were practically eating him up with your gaze. It was intoxicating. “Can I kiss you?”

A rush of heat flooded your stomach, and you responded by running your fingers through his hair and bringing his head closer to yours. He went easily, eagerly settling his mouth over yours in a kiss that had you gripping his hair and shoulder.

The need took over so fast, you barely had time to take a breath. Your heart sped up when he took that last step forward, bringing his knees flush to the counter as his mouth opened under yours.

You didn’t know what to focus on, getting lost in the feeling of his hands gripping at your ass cheeks and pulling you into him until your crotch was slotted right against his lower belly; allowing you to rub off on him if you so pleased. And fuck, you really wanted to.

He must’ve sensed it, or even read your thoughts because he helped you thrust forward with the help of his hands on your ass, groaning deeply into your mouth when you started grinding against his torso. Daniel didn’t know if he was imagining the heat against his stomach, but you felt warm and so ready for him to take you apart however he pleased.

“Tell me what you want.” He demanded quietly against your lips, and you let out a needy little whimper when he squeezed the meat of your ass in his palms. “You gotta tell me what you want.”

“You.” You managed, leaning forward to kiss him and Daniel allowed it before pulling back slightly.

You almost huffed in frustration, but refrained from doing so. Instead, you grabbed one of his hands and guided them up the apex of your thighs, under your dress and settled his hands right where you needed him most. Daniel’s breath stuttered, the heat of it hitting your face and you blinked at him with pleading eyes.

“Touch me, please, Daniel.” You arched your back a little until his hand moved of its own accord, stroking softly over the dampness of your underwear.

He couldn’t believe how wet you already were, fingers eagerly searching for your hole through the cotton and pressing down until you were whining. It was like music to his ears, and he needed to hear more.

Daniel yanked your panties to the side, cursing loudly at the wetness of your pussy against the pads of his fingers. He touched your swollen clit in circles, never taking his eyes off of your face. You were so animated, pleasure written in large bold letters on your face as your eyelids fluttered; eyes rolling a little when he stroked you particularly nicely, mouth dropping opening in breathy moans.

He couldn’t resist leaning forward to steal a kiss, the filthiness of it making his cock ache.

“Does that feel good?” He asked when you broke from the kiss, tipping your head backwards so his mouth met your chin instead. He kissed down the column of your throat and sucked against the skin there, mindful to not leave any visible marks.

“Feels perfect.” You slurred, your accent melding into your English and it was so horribly endearing and hot at the same time that Daniel couldn’t resist sinking a finger into you.

The response from you was beautiful, your back arching and hips thrusting into his hand as your hole swallowed his digit without any trouble. Daniel wasn’t sure if you were even aware of the noises you were making, high pitched little uh’s that rose in octaves and he was quick to silence them by kissing you.

He took the opportunity to slide another finger alongside his middle one, meeting a little resistance before you relaxed in his hold. The wetness and warmth of you was so intoxicating that he had to take a deep breath to not blow too soon in his pants.

“Want you—“ your words trailed off as your hands came up to search for the button of his pants.

You were panting, feeling impatient and Daniel watched in silence as the sound of the zipper echoed in the quiet kitchen. There was a brief sense of relief when you dragged down the hem of his underwear, just enough for you to fish him out and get your hands on him.

“Fuck.” You cursed in a whisper, voice laced in enough wonder for Daniel to laugh breathlessly. It was unbelievable how that one word could breathe so much confidence into his body.

Daniel was heavy and hard in your hand, and you took a moment to stroke him to get him fully hard, marvelling at the sheer weight and size of him. Of course, he couldn’t possess the personality and looks, he had to have the full package as well.

“You sure you want this?” He asked and you glanced up at him.

“I want this.” You almost said need, but bit your tongue.

You looked for any sign that maybe he didn’t want this, but you could find none and that made the urgency flare up in your chest as you brought him closer to you. He went easily, hands gripping your thighs to spread them.

“Spread your legs wider.” He instructed you and you did as you were told, ignoring the slight ache in your thighs at being stretched so wide.

Maybe you should’ve felt embarrassed by the position you were in, on display on your kitchen counter with your dress flipped up to reveal your bottom half. But Daniel was roving his eyes over you like he hadn’t seen anything like it before, and that was enough for the last smidge of self-consciousness to dissipate into thin air.

He took himself in his hand and stroked a couple of times, and you were so mesmerised by the sight of it that you almost missed the way he suddenly halted and looked around.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, frowning and he glanced at you.

“Do you have… anything?”

It took a second for you to gather your thoughts and understand what he meant, and dread suddenly sank in your stomach when you realised that no, you really didn’t have protection.

“Shit.” You swore, frowning as you sat up a bit. You looked at him, eyes searching his face as the most stupid idea crept into your mind. “I don’t— I don’t mind?”

His eyebrows jumped, and you couldn’t blame his surprise because it was a reckless move. But you were on the pill and you hadn’t been sexually active for a while. And maybe you shouldn’t, but you trusted Daniel enough.

“I mean, I’m clean and I’m on the pill.” You quickly added when he still hadn’t said anything.

You briefly contemplated sneaking into the sleeping couple’s room and stealing from Kelly, but the sheer horror you felt at the thought of being caught by your brother was enough for you to dismiss that thought. No way.

“I’m clean too.” Daniel said, placing a hand on your cheek and tilting your head up to look at him. “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to do it.”

“I’m sure.” You said and you meant it.

Daniel smiled with a nod, leaning forward to press a tentative kiss to your lips and it didn’t take long to fall back into that previous urgency you’d felt. You loved on his lower lip as he stepped forward, slipping two fingers into you and stretching you out for good measure before he gripped himself in his hand and guided you forward on the counter.

It felt like the breath was stolen from you as he breached you, keeping his eyes on your face to watch for any change and your eyelids fluttered shut as he pushed inside.

“Fuuuuck me.” He dragged out the words, struggling to find his breath at the sheer warmth enveloping him. “Look at me. Keep your eyes on me.”

You blinked them open, mouth falling into an O that looked too inviting for Daniel. He kept his eyes on yours as he bottomed out, waiting for a nod from you before he pulled back and thrusted forward, jolting you and making you moan out.

“Fuck, baby.” He set up a good rhythm, leaning his forehead against yours as he started fucking you. “Sound so pretty for me but you need to keep it down. Wouldn’t want your brother to find us like this, do you?”

He groaned when you tightened around him, giving you a particularly hard thrust in retaliation that made you whimper.

“That got you tight.” He turned his head to nudge his nose against your cheek, and you could feel him smile slowly against your skin. You could only imagine how downright filthy it looked. “Does that turn you on? The fact that someone could walk in and see you like this?”

It was a horrifying thought, but you couldn’t deny the heat spreading through your entire body as you imagined it. And Daniel could feel it affecting you, feeling you squeeze around his cock so deliciously tight that he almost faltered in his rhythm.

Your stomach was starting to tighten up, a telltale sign that you were so close but you still needed that incentive; that last push over the edge of wild oblivion. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck to keep you upright while the other one found a home between your legs, fingers a little too slippery to cause any real friction. You let out a frustrated huff and wiped your hands on your dress before returning to touching yourself.

Daniel had his eyes fastened on you the entire time, feeling dangerously close to climaxing but he refused to be the one to come first, staving off for as long as he could.

It was difficult, it was so hard to keep up pace when you were clenching around him like you were subconsciously trying to keep him deep inside. He glanced up at your face and got exactly a two second warning before your mouth fell open and your legs got tight around him.

“Dan—“ The rest of your moan got choked off against the dampness of his shirt as he placed a hand on the back of your head and pressed your face to his shoulder; a poor attempt at muffling your sounds.

He couldn’t hold it off any longer, burying his face against the side of your head. “Where do you want me?” He should’ve pulled out, and he would if you told him so, but you felt heavenly around him and he momentarily wished that he could bury himself deep in your being and never get up for air.

“In.” Your words were trembling, breathless. “In me, please.”

And who was he to deny that, when you were begging so prettily?

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He gave a thrust, two and let out a guttural moan that he struggled to keep inside. Your breathy little noises as he shot off inside you was the only thing he could hear alongside the rush of blood in his ears. “This cunt.”

Your whole world tilted on its axis and you found yourself on your back, the hard and cool plane of the counter a nice contrast against your sweaty back. A giggle left your lips when you glanced down where Daniel had somehow managed to lose his balance, folding himself on top of you.

Daniel glanced up at the sound of your laughter, a dazed smile creeping onto his face and you couldn’t help but run your fingers through his sweaty hair, pushing the locks away from his forehead so you could get a look at his eyes.

He looked a lot like he did after a gruelling race. Sweaty and flushed, the apples of his cheeks tinted pink. But there was a bliss to him that definitely didn’t come from racing, and you flushed all over when you realized that it was your doing, you’d done that.

It was a powerful feeling to bring a man like that to his knees.

“Sorry.” He apologised as he placed both hands on either side of you, pushing himself up on unsteady feet. He held his hand out and helped you sit up. The stickiness between your legs was starting to cool, feeling uncomfortable and very much like you were in dire need of a shower. “You alright?”

You glanced up at him and smiled. “Perfect.”

He reciprocated the smile, looking like he was a little unsure of how to proceed. You didn’t blame him, because what did you do after that whole ordeal, in a kitchen, nonetheless. You wrapped one leg around his thigh and urged him forward, hands grabbing at his arms when he was close enough.

“You look beautiful.” He said, voice sincere and quiet, just for your ears. It made you feel a little sheepish, but you thought that you’d never get tired of hearing it if it came from his mouth.

“So do you.” You said, words spoken against his lips before he slotted his mouth over yours in a kiss.

The skin around your mouth was feeling a little chafed from his beard, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you let yourself be kissed; lost in the taste and smell of him. It was unbelievable how intoxicating he was.

“I’m gonna need a shower after that.” You said, laughing when he gave you a look and burying your face in the juncture of his neck and shoulder, wrapping yourself around him - much like a koala bear. Daniel must’ve mirrored your delirious thoughts, because he spoke up a moment later.

“Alright, you little koala bear.” He laughed, sounding five shades of amused as he wrapped his arms around you.

You slapped at his back, “Do not make that a nickname.”

The counter disappeared beneath you as he lifted you, the feeling of being weightless so sudden and jarring that you let out a yelp; arms clutching at him to not fall. He had no intention of dropping you though, hauling you up in his arms until he was holding you steadily.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, half-hushed and it was kind of ridiculous that you were being mindful of your voice after all the noise you’d surely created a few minutes prior.

The possibility of Max walking in felt a lot more dangerous now that you weren’t blind with lust, and you still didn’t know how Daniel felt about screwing his friend’s sister behind his back. It was a lot of feelings to unpack, but you put it in an imaginary box and locked it away in your mind for another day.

“You said you needed a shower.” His smile was blinding as always when you pulled back to look at him. “I’m here to assist.”

“That’s what they’re calling it nowadays? Assisting?” You joked and Daniel raised his brows in amusement as he began navigating the way to the bathroom.

It was an old house, depriving you of an en suite that you desperately wished you had now. You’d never felt a need for it, seeing as you were living alone, but it would’ve lowered the chances of the other two occupants hearing the shower running so late.

Your concerns went up in smoke when Daniel finally found the bathroom, kicking the door shut gently behind him. It was a failed attempt, the door screeching like something out of a scary movie and it made you muffle your laugh behind your hand.

“Gonna need to oil that, love.” He said, putting you down on your feet.

That’s what you’d told yourself a hundred times since moving in, but it had a weird charm to it so you never did. That, and you just never got around to fixing the door.

There was a bizarre thought that was so fleeting that you dismissed it almost immediately, imagining Daniel dropping by in Spain and coming to visit you between GP's. Him in your kitchen with his guard down, doing maintenance work on your house that so desperately needed it. It warmed your heart to the core, thinking of him squeezing you into his busy schedule but then you thought of Max and your thoughts halted.

Max. He'd done nothing throughout your childhood but protect you, being there for you whenever you needed it and you'd been leaning on each other into adulthood. He was the closest person to you in your life, and the thought of going behind his back made something sour bloom in your mouth.

"Hey."

You looked up at the hushed word, blinking in slight confusion when you saw the concern marring Daniel's face. He must've seen you zone out completely and you realized that you'd been deep in your thoughts for a while because the shower was running already.

Daniel reached a hand out to touch your shoulder, just a quick stroke of his fingers against your skin and you felt your body light up at the slightest touch from him.

"Lost you there for a minute." He said, tilting his head to the side to catch your eyes. "What are you thinking about?"

You looked at him, considered lying, but again, what good would it do?

"Max." You said, the name heavy on your tongue.

His face morphed into something unreadable and he regarded you silently. Like he was trying to reach into your brain and dissect your thoughts.

"Look," He sat down on the edge of the bathtub and peered up at you with his beautifully brown eyes. "I want to explore this with you, see where it takes us. Do you?"

You nodded before he'd finished his sentence, relief seeping into your tense body because he understood your sudden fear, he knew what you'd meant.

"Alright." He gave you a smile, radiant and reassuring. "We don't have to involve Max until we're absolutely sure where we stand."

He made it sound so easy, and maybe it was. Maybe you could do this without involving the outside world, exist in your own little bubble and see where it takes you without the added pressure from the public or either families.

Daniel helped you out of your dress, pressing small and fleeting kisses to your shoulder and arms. It was like he was trying to encourage you to take the plunge.

And in some way you did, as you stepped under the spray of the shower with him.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x female reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fanfic #f1 fics #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo smut

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archonsbane · 1 year

Text

AND I TRY TO TALK REFINED

The one time Il Dottore speaks to you in another language, the one time he speaks to someone else in another language, and the one time you give him a taste of his own medicine.

pairing. dottore x reader

tags & content warnings. gn!reader. reader is the tsaritsa's child. reader is referred to by they/them. there's one (1) mildly suggestive sentence (and it's in a different language lol).

word count. 2.9k

author's note. so. i'm back from the dead. i have two fics for pantalone and one for diluc, around 8k+ words. (none of them are finished LMFAO) but of course i drop everything for this stupid ass man. the reader here is my tsaritsa’schild!reader, though this takes place before beauty is terror. this is set in the early days of their relationship and the start of dottore’s involvement in the fatui. reader's backstory is also implied here, but not outright stated. also i got inspiration from @fatuismooches lovely headcanons, though i strayed a bit far HAHA. thank you for letting me write this! and thank you to my two lovely delulu friends (you know who you are) bc i suddenly got into the mood to write because of them. also, what is heavily implied to be the script of khaenri'ah in-game is based on latin, so i headcanon that latin is the language of khaenri'ah. also i had to sneak in a tsh reference lmfao it was too perfect not to. i promise i don't include it in all my fics it just so happens to be perfect for certain situations huhu. also i hope you guys catch all the little details i put in! reader and dottore have always been like this lol the title is from 'talk' by hozier.

You are undoubtedly the worst teacher Dottore has ever had, bar none.

Flighty, distracted, and prone to seamlessly maneuvering to an entirely different topic without blinking an eye, leaving him dumbfounded. Your teaching sessions, if they could be called that, are filled with constant interrogations of his life and large infusions of food. Half the time you aren’t even teaching him, you’re simply rambling about whatever it is you ramble about (he’s learned to tune you out, partly because he doesn’t care and partly because he can’t understand what you’re saying). He is truly reconsidering forgoing learning Snezhnayan — at the pace you're going, he might as well take his chances and learn by himself.

“But Mother said,” you remind him, petulantly, like a small child. Yes, the Tsaritsa commanded him to learn Snezhnayan, and commanded you to teach him, but he is greatly tempted to ask her to send another teacher. It has only been two weeks since your lessons begun and he might truly go mad. Sometimes he thinks this might be the worst thing a divine being has ever inflicted on him.

In truth, he already knows Snezhnayan, but only enough to hold a polite conversation. It is his least favorite of the languages he learned from his teachers in the Akademiya, and anyway, he never quite had a deftness for tongues. He is always most at home working with his hands, destroying and creating physical matter, covered in dust and soot, cracking open the world’s secrets like an egg. But the Tsartisa willed him to learn, and he is nothing if not a scholar.

“But Mother said,” he mocks, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He’s learned that you have no convictions about his personality. If anything, you seemed to embrace it. Whereas he dons a respectful — as respectful as he can conjure, anyways — mask with the Jester and the Tsaritsa, it’s… looser, with you. Still, he is careful not to cross the line. He is only allowed this because he amuses you. You've been treating him like some sort of pet to be played with whenever you desire since his coming here. “Your mother also said to teach me how to speak Snezhnayan, but this is the third time you’ve called for snacks in three hours.”

You flash a lazy glare at him and go back to eating your beloved pastilas. “You require a tremendous amount of effort to teach.” You’ve switched back to speaking the common tongue, obviously for his sake. “You’re a horrible student.”

“You’re a horrible teacher!”

You sniff and take another bite of your pastry. “You’re just really bad at learning.”

For that, you get a glance heavenward. He is tempted to simply throttle you and be done with it. Treason seems like a fair price to pay for shutting you up. But he considers his options and decides that he would rather not be on the receiving end of your mother’s wrath — it’s too fucking cold here already. Still, greatly offended by this statement, he vents out his anger by cursing at you.

In the language of Sumeru.

He does not really think of it; his use of his mother tongue has greatly decreased since coming here, but even then, it simply rolls off his tongue as naturally as water flows from a river's mouth.

Your brows shoot up. You open your mouth, pause, and for a moment he fears he is in danger of being exiled or thrown in the dungeon. But then you cock your head to the side. “What does that mean?” You ask.

An idea unravels in his mind, sparkling with mischief. “It means you’re bad at teaching.”

You frown. “For some reason, I feel like you’re lying.”

He curses at you again. Your frown deepens. There is something so satisfying about the way those frustrated lines burrow into your face. When he does it a third time, you actually put down the pastila.

“What does it mean?” You demand. “You aren’t saying anything bad, are you?”

It means you’re an insufferable little bastard of mean intelligence and he hopes you fall into a ditch, so yes, he definitely is saying something bad. “It means you’re the most gorgeous, most wonderful person in the world,” he says, sarcasm dripping from the syllables. When you look genuinely taken aback, he lets out a cruel, derisive scoff. “It means you should trust me more.”

“That seems like a horrible idea.”

He shrugs and reaches over to take one of the pastilas, light pink with a white, foamy top, vaguely aware that another one of your language lessons has gone considerably off course. Perhaps that was too light a description. It shot in one direction and came speeding back the other way. “Suit yourself, Your Imperial Highness.”

You smack his hand away, gently. Almost too gently. “Those are mine.”

He eats it, anyway, and learns many new colorful Snezhnayan curses for it, though he detects no real annoyance in your voice. You ring for another batch of desserts. He counts it as a successful lesson.

He continues speaking in Sumerian when you're near. It’s the greatest of treasures, seeing you frown and demand to know what he had just uttered in your presence. Sometimes he just says the first phrase that enters his head, most times he insults you and relishes in your clueless blinking. You can't do the same to him — he's been picking up on Snezhnayan at an exponential pace, and he's made sure to memorize all of the insults and swears first. Obviously. It’s his talent for machinations that he prides himself on, but lately, he’s been deriving vicious pleasure from the fact he can speak twenty languages, though it never mattered much to him before. It’s a good, safe outlet for his annoyance whenever you’re near, which you seem to always be, nowadays.

Even outside the language ‘lessons’ (the word lessons being used extremely lightly) you seem to trail him wherever he goes. Ambushing him in the halls, materializing in the laboratory, and in general trailing him like some attention-starved puppy. He resents it, resents the stars that float through your eyes whenever he enters your view, resents the way you immediately disengage from whatever it was that you were doing to attach yourself to him, all smiles.

He actively avoids you, but somehow you keep running into him. On purpose or accidentally, he has no idea. He suspects it is the former.

Today is one of those days. You’re by his side, again, chatting happily about… something. He’s trying to tune you out, focusing on the long walk back to his laboratories after a meeting with the Tsaritsa. He needs to do something about that, it’s woefully inconvenient to have to walk a mile every time she calls on him. Some sort of contraption that could go up and down easily would be of great use, and he wouldn’t have to climb so many fucking stairs.

Then — it happens. In your excitement, you bump into some government official accompanied by another, what his role is Dottore does not know and does not care to, but he must be quite high up if he allows himself to glare at you for an instant before it disappears into a cool stare. Or maybe he just has a lot of gall.

"Oh, my apologies sir," you murmur, ducking your head.

"Quite alright, Your Highness," he says smoothly, "have a good day." He turns his back and starts to mutter to his companion, their heads bent together, completely unaware that with your godly senses and his recent enhancements to his body, you both can hear every word.

"How clumsy," the first man tuts, "what does their mother teach them? She's been too soft on them."

"She lets them run amok doing whatever they please. The other day, they—"

"—yes, I heard. Look at those clothes, aren't they too plain for the heir?"

His companion makes an agreeing noise. "And the company they keep… "

Dottore doesn't particularly care about what other people think of him, and perhaps if it was only the last sentence that had been uttered he wouldn't have said a word, but the tirade of their complaints makes irritation, absurdly, flare inside him. He whips his head back to their retreating figures, and you throw him a glaring warning, so he clenches his jaw and stays where he is. He isn't one to do nothing, however.

“Kol khara,” he says to them, viciously. Eat shit. He hears you stifle a sound that might be a laugh and briefly wonders why exactly you would laugh.

The men turn back around. “Excuse me?” The first one says.

“Nothing,” he says, curtly, his eyes like sharp daggers, “go on." They throw each other confused glances but say nothing further, going further down the hall until he can no longer see their backs. You both stay in the middle of the now-empty hallway, staring silently off into the distance.

You’ve never been able to contain your curiosity for long. After a good minute of silence, you turn inquisitive eyes on him. He’s been expecting your question.

"What did you say?" You ask.

He shrugs; makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Nothing."

You narrow your eyes. "I know it isn't nothing. It was something bad, right? You've said it to me before.” Clever you, he thinks briefly. Nothing gets past you. When he stays enclosed in icy silence, you press on further, “I won’t be mad. It doesn’t bother me — I think it’s funny. Just tell me.” He has no idea why you would ever think it’s funny. Nonetheless, he stays silent.

You try again. “Tell me.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Tell me,” you say again, but this time you slip into the voice of the noble, unshakeable heir to Winter. The two words are a command, and they leave no room for argument. He must follow.

He sighs and runs a hand down his face. “It means I want them to eat shit.”

A moment of silence passes and Dottore wonders if he should start running. Then, you start to laugh. A small laugh, so small he almost thinks he could cup it in his hands and never let it go. But he recognizes it as different from the laughs you’ve given him before. This one is warm and sweet, conjured from the belly upwards. Summer in a sound.

He tries very hard not to smile when he says, “you aren’t mad?”

“No,” you say, still laughing, “I suppose I do deserve it.” He silently agrees. “Anyways, after coming to my defense, I forgive you.”

He snarls, that sudden irritation reviving itself. “I wasn’t coming to your defense.”

You shrug, not looking bothered at all. “Fine. Defending yourself and by extension — and complete coincidence — me.”

He decides it is best not to argue, and listens quietly as you walk with him back to his laboratory, chatting happily away once more. If you notice that over the next few days, his outbursts toward you decrease, you say nothing of it. And if you notice he is insulting other people more in other languages, seemingly for the sole purpose of making you laugh, you say nothing of it, too.

You’re speaking Sumerian.

Fluent Sumerian. Rapid-fire Sumerian, without blinking or stumbling over your words. Clean, pure Sumerian, speaking everything with the perfect enunciation of a noble. You don’t notice him behind you, utterly bemused, as you speak to a foreign dignitary from his homeland. The First drags him out of the underground labs from time to time in order to socialize and familiarize himself with the political atmosphere, but Dottore lets you do all the work for him. You engage in polite small talk, though delivered with much more enthusiasm than necessary. But the words are barely intelligible in his head. It isn’t possible that you’ve learned how to speak fluent Sumerian in such a short about of time. He will begrudgingly admit your brightness, small as it is, but even he cannot master a language within a few months. Which means there must only be one conclusion.

When you notice him, your face morphs into one of surprised panic. Oh. He’s sure his fury is plain to see. It’s at that precise moment the dignitary — Dottore does not see the point in blessings but, Archons bless her — chooses to excuse herself, leaving you open and without a proper excuse to escape with.

“You can speak Sumerian,” he says, plainly, having immediately taken the empty spot at your side. You take cautious, half-step backwards.

You look both amused and slightly abashed.

He grits his teeth. “For how long?”

“... since I was five." A pause. You look thoughtful. "Actually, it was your Greater Lord Rukkhadevata who first taught me."

This new piece of information surprises him so much that the flames of his anger are snuffed out, if only for a second. Then they come back raging, and he cannot contain it.

"You knew what I was saying this entire time!" He rages, jabbing an accusing finger at you. You cringe away. "You could understand all of it!"

"Not all of it—" When you see the exasperation that crosses his face, you smile. "Alright. Most of it."

You begin to walk away, but he furiously follows you. "You lied to me!"

"You were cursing me to my face. I think it's a fair exchange." You shrug with one shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief. "It was funny, anyway. Your cluelessness, that is." And then, "you should know, now that you know — I can speak the main languages of each nation."

"I can too," he says haughtily, raising his chin up at you.

"Really?" You laugh. "Cubitum eamus?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What does that mean?" He demands, only half aware he's repeating the interaction you once had over a plate of pink and white sweets. He's never heard a language sounding quite like that. Perhaps it could be a dialect, but it doesn't sound similar to any currently existing language. "What language is that?"

You deliver your coup de grâce with such smooth smugness on your face. "It's Khaenri'ahn." The dead language.

He blinks. Opens his mouth dumbly. And lunges.

As he chases you through the halls, your laughter floats warm and clear in the frigid winter air. You easily outpace him, but perhaps out of pity, you let him catch you and drag you to — well, he doesn't exactly know where he's going, only that he does not want to let you escape his rage. You thrash in his arms like a trapped animal, still controlled by a laughing fit all the while.

"I hate you," he grumbles later, when you've calmed him with a slice of strawberry cheesecake from the kitchens. He's still quite angry, but not angry enough to not accept your peace offering. "You're horrible."

"So are you."

A pause, then, "Teach me Khaenri'ahn," he says, leaning forward, a bright idea sparking in his chest. "There's so many texts I have yet to decipher — you have no idea the knowledge I can grasp if you teach me." He thinks of the old Ruin Golems in Sumeru. How hard it was to learn how to control them! But with your help, with your knowledge, he could crack the world open like an egg and watch its secrets spill like yolk.

"I thought I was a bad teacher."

"Bad is better than none at all."

The utterly offended look that flashes on your face teases a grin from his mouth. "You're horrible."

"So are you."

He thinks he sees the corner of your mouth involuntarily curl upward. You twirl your fork in your fingers, humming thoughtfully. "Why should I?"

"... For the pleasure of contributing to my research?" The look you give him tells him you're not at all convinced. He continues, "My research that is so very essential to the success of this nation?"

You scoff, but you cannot deny it. He would not be alive if he wasn't useful to Snezhnaya.

"You'll owe me," you tell him.

He shrugs. "There's worse things in the world. Let's start."

It startles you somewhat. "What, now?"

"Yes, now. Unless you have other things to do?"

You don't. Your language lessons with him already ended when he reached an acceptable mastery over Snezhnayan according to your mother, and he knows that though you have a schedule (mysterious and utterly incomprehensible though it is — not even he has been able to figure it out), you'd drop everything in an instant if something else interests you. Your other engagements are often boring things, too, and the only duty you ever truly commit to are the strange missions your mother sends you on, ones that could go for months on end. He's fairly certain you'll acquiesce to his request.

You pretend to consider it, before shrugging with hardwon carelessness and saying, "Fine."

You're exactly the same. Flighty, distracted, and prone to seamlessly maneuvering to an entirely different topic without blinking an eye. Half the cheesecake is eaten before you even start on the alphabet, and the journey to that is filled with endless detours that consist of bickering, fighting over the (large) cake, and kicking each other like children under his work table. His intelligence is insulted more times in half an hour than in his entire years of study at the Akademiya.

Dottore decides, with solid determination, after eating the last slice of cake, finally learning the pronunciation of the vowels and consonants, and being on the receiving end of an onslaught of Khaeri’ahn curses he truly cannot understand — which is horribly ironic considering the past few weeks — that he might as well beg the Jester for lessons instead, and no one can do a damn thing about it. He tells this to you, chin up, resolute and unwavering in his declaration.

He never does get around to doing that.

#— ficlets.#genshin imapct #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #fatui x reader #the cubitum eamus question is a reference to the secret history for those who don't know #reader is asking dottore to sleep with them lmfao #also the full lyric for the title is #'so I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how i'm imaginin' you'#so that's something :))

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markster666 · 8 months

Note

I'm not sure if I've made a request with you but if I have please feel free to ignore! I just can't stop thinking about reader just going up to Vox and asking if they can play videogames and use his head as the monitor. idk I just wanna fuck with Vox he's hilarious

My Life is Like a Video Game (Literally) - Vox x Reader (SFW)

Pairing: Vox x Genderless!Reader

Tags: Vox, SFW, Comedy, Not a lot of plot, Vox is pissed off, Vox x You, Cursing

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 575

A/N: I saw this request come into my inbox a bit ago and I died of laughter. I hope this lives up to your expectations. Unedited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. Enjoy. LMFAO

You cursed in disgust as the lights went and fucked themselves. You knew Vox had a temperament and when it got BAD, the power shut off everywhere. You were in the middle of beating a really hard boss on Dark Souls, one you spent DAYS UPON DAYS trying to complete, only for his fuck-head lookin' ass to ruin your almost perfect run of it.

You threw down the controller and groaned. You decided to get up and mindlessly walk around the room, actually putting in the time to throw your dirty clothes in the pantry and make your bed.

You were hoping Velvette or Valentino would've calm him down by now, but the complete darkness and lack of gaming audio states otherwise.

You hastily put on your comfort jacket and shoved open your door and slammed it behind you, murmuring obscenities as your feet scuttled down the hallway. Your arms were crossed from how cold it was (the heater electricity was shut off too).

You knocked on Vox's door, stabbing back a foot or two in anticipation of the door opening.

After a few moments, you shouted "VOX!"

Still no answer.

You raised your voice even more, "VOX! OPEN UP THIS FUCKING DOOR OR SO SATAN HELP ME-"

The door opened, slamming against the wall and threatening to break.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT Y/N?!!"

His eyes were glowing red, a snarl coating his face. His hand was still on the doorknob, ready to slam the door in your face at a moments notice.

You rolled your eyes, "I was in the middle of a Dark Souls boss fight and you decided that THAT was the perfect time to completely cut all power."

He groaned in frustration.

"I'm SORRY, okay? I don't know what else to tell ya."

He started closing the door but you pushed past him and into his computer room.

"There's only ONE working TV in all of Pentagram City now..."

He frog blinked at you, closing the door with a look of confusion on his face.

"Um... What are you trying to say?"

You turned to face him, arms on your hips and looking him up and down.

"May I PLEASE use your head-screen thingy to... beat the Dark Souls boss?"

He looked DUMBFOUNDED. Like there's absolutely no fucking way you just asked him that.

"That is probably the dumbest fucking request I have ever gotten from you. No, absolutely not. Power will be back on soon."

He pushed past you, sitting in his chair and rubbing his eyes in exhaustion and stress.

You smirked and went up behind him, massaging his shoulders lightly, leaning in close to his ear.

"I'll go and spy on the Radio Demon for ya."

He perked up at this thought, swiveling his chair around to face you.

"Oh? Ya don't say?" He folded his hands on his lap. "Fine, then, but ONLY 10 minutes."

You squeaked in giddy, sitting down and crossing your legs on the floor, booting up your controller and he switched his monitor to Dark Souls, trying to stay as still for you as he could.

It ended up taking 8 hours because you had beaten the boss but wanted to keep playing so you just didn't tell him you beat the boss.

And you left him even more angry than he already was. :)

Oh and you also didn't spy on Alastor you truly couldn't give less of a shit.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #vox hazbin hotel

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seoafin · 1 year

Text

dog days are over | chapter five

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): mentions of virginity loss, threesomes, depression (the holy trinity lmfao), birth control, full on dissociative panic attack but not in detail, obligatory stsg warning. also cheating mention (but not really gojo is just jealous and geto likes the attention. they gaslight each other for fun btw) word count: ~9.2k

fic masterlist read on ao3

The nightmares start after Nagoya.

You wake up bleary eyed and distinctly worn out, with a heaviness in your chest that you carry with you. It only gets heavier.

The auxiliary manager you worked with promised to share any more relevant information with you about the case. You should have left it at that.

It becomes harder to stay uninvolved in your assignments, you're beginning to find, especially when innocent lives are taken.

You leave a piece of yourself behind every time a child cries.

You sit up from your bed and glance at the clock above the doorway. 11:54 AM. Light streams in from your windows, and you close your eyes in the temporary warmth before it fades, leaving your room cold. Outside, the trees are barren and the overcast is gray in preparation for the upcoming winter. It’s reaching that time of year you feel the most lethargic, where people and time pass by you in a blur. In the spring you’ll wake up fully, and it’ll the cold will have faded like a bad dream.

It's almost Satoru's birthday.

It’s cold. You feel goosebumps form on your arms. It occurs to you that you may have forgotten to turn on the heat in your apartment. Central heat. A rare luxury in these types of apartments. But you don’t want to leave the warmth of your bed, so you lie back down and curl into your bed.

Just as you’re about to succumb back to temporary emptiness, the door to your bedroom is thrown open. You wince as the door slams into the wall, raising your head.

“Something happened,” Shoko says plainly, crossing her arms. “I hope you haven’t been hiding from me on purpose.”

You don’t recall giving Shoko a key. But you must have, if she’s inside of your apartment. Guilt churns in your stomach. You’ve been avoiding not just her, but Satoru and Suguru. You’re unsure of how to act around them anymore. You don’t know how much you can tell her. How much you should.

Then she lightly frowns. “Why is it so cold in here?”

You sit up, worried the cold might be bothering her. “Let me turn on the heat.”

Before you can stand, she waves you off, taking off her coat and lazily throwing it on a nearby chair. “Forget that,” she sighs, walking over to your bed and motioning you over. “Move over.”

You wordlessly comply, scooting to the far end of the bed as she settles next to you, lifting the covers over her body.

The two of you look at each other, at the opposite ends of your pillow, sharing your comforter. At the warmth of her body, you almost close your eyes. You think if you fell asleep now, no nightmares would come to you.

“Shoko,” you say quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

But you had. Days passed in a blur. You didn’t give much thought to it, devoting all your efforts to routine. Luckily, there were no assignments after Nagoya. This bitter winter is a slow season for curses. You went from your apartment to Tokyo University and back, buried yourself in your studies, and blocked out the world. You hadn’t meant to. You kept on telling yourself you’d reply to that text, that you’d show your face again, that you’d pretend everything was alright even though it wasn’t. Now you’ve caused Shoko undue worry.

She simply looks at you. “Something happened at the party, didn’t it?”

You think of Satoru. Then Suguru. It’s the most you’ve thought about them in weeks. You don’t want to think about them because the longer you do, the more your thoughts stray in ways it shouldn’t.

You pull your covers up to your chin, troubled, and your silence speaking volumes. She softens.

“Never mind. I’m not here to force you to talk,” she pauses. “But if something happened. Something you didn’t want , then I want you to tell me.” She exhales. “Even if it’s Satoru and Suguru. Especially if it’s those two.”

It wasn’t…They didn’t…They…

You’re conflicted. “They wouldn’t…” you trail off weakly.

She looks at you blankly.

“It…”

You bury your face into your comforter. You don’t have the words to explain. It’s okay, you want to tell her. You’re more worried about Satoru and Suguru’s relationship than anything else. They’re arguing about something, you want to tell her, and engaging in acts with you you know they’ll regret. You’ve never cared much for what they do with you. You’d do anything, give them everything if they asked. If she asked. You lower the blanket.

She eyes you, suspicion lining her face. “Did they—”

“No,” you blurt out before she can finish. “Yes. Maybe.” You hesitate. “It wasn’t…”

Bad.

It feels like an admission of guilt. It felt so good it was horrible. You shouldn’t have enjoyed it. You shouldn’t have succumbed to the pleasure, not when the future of Satoru and Suguru’s relationship hung in the balance. It’s your fault, you think once again. The world is collapsing on top of you, and you can’t help but think it’s punishment for your existence. For taking more than you should have.

“Are you on birth control?”

You stare at her. “What?”

“Birth control,” she repeats, deathly serious. She rises from the bed. “I should get you started now—”

You reach for her delicate wrist, stopping her. “It’s not like that!” Your face warms with embarrassment. “I promise, it’s not like that.”

It's not that serious, you're sure. Even the thought gives you pause, makes you apprehensively embarrassed. It's not...like that.

Luckily, it’s something you don’t have to worry or think about.

“...If you say so.” She says, not believing you in the slightest. She retakes her position on the bed. “So,” she says after a pause. “Shirokami visited the infirmary.”

Right. You forgot Hideo had gone and introduced himself to Shoko.

Your stomach flutters, nervous. “Did you like him?”

“I did,” she replies. “He’s…” a thoughtful pause. “Nice. A country boy.” A wry smile. “Nothing like those two. At all. It’s refreshing, actually.”

Relief. You suppose he did grow up in the countryside, so it’s not too far off from the mark. As for being like Satoru or Suguru…

You resolve not to be hurt. The two of them are under no obligation to meet anyone. You won’t be hurt.

“He made it seem like the two of you are close friends.”

You’re sure he’s just being polite. Hideo is nice like that. Nonetheless, it makes you a bit happy to hear you made an impression on him. That he thinks of you fondly. He considers you a friend. Maybe there’s hope for you after all.

The comforter is warm with the shared heat of your bodies. Sleep calls out to you.

“He…scares me a little,” you say quietly. Hideo reminds you of a part of your life you don’t like to revisit. He makes you feel like a child again, afraid to be alone. “There’s a lot I don’t like to remember…about…back then. But I’m glad I met him again.”

“I see,” she says, smiling. “Then me too. I’m glad the two of you found each other again.”

You blink drowsily, smiling back at her. Shoko’s face is the last thing you see before heaviness drags your eyelids to darkness.

—

When you wake up, you are pleasantly revitalized and a little more alert. Shoko is gone, but there’s takeout on your kitchen counter. You take a bite of the Vietnamese noodles and realize that your taste buds have somewhat returned. You eat the entire meal, full for the first time in what seems like months.

You reply to a text from Hideo about the crowd at Shibuya crossing, smiling at the litany of exclamation points accompanying by his texts. You realize Megumi texted you earlier, about when you’d be coming by again and another pang of guilt hits you. You’ve been neglecting the kids too, lately. You wouldn't survive Mimiko and Nanako's wide eyes, gazing up at you, pleading at you to stay with them.

It’s six now, and the sky is pitch black. You know for a fact that Suguru and Satoru won’t be at the apartment until later. Yaga-sensei had mentioned Gakuganji visiting Tokyo accompanied by several other clan members for some annual conference. You didn’t pay attention to the details.

You…could visit. Suguru would have already fed the kids by now. Maybe you could take Megumi and the girls out for dessert. Or order something to the apartment. You feel lighter at the thought. Spending time with the kids always made you feel better. It’s something you can do, as small as it is. Small things.

Small steps.

You change and you’re out the door shortly. It doesn’t take you long to reach the apartment, greet the doorman, and take the elevator up. You knock. A few minutes later, the door swings opens, revealing Megumi.

“Hi,” you say brightly. “Have you been well?”

“Fine.” He lets you in. “Don’t you have a key?”

You laugh, still a bit breathless from the cold as you hang your coat up. “It doesn’t feel right to use it. I’m still a guest after all.”

Megumi doesn’t respond to that as the two of you enter the living room. It’s unusually quiet. “Where are the girls?”

“Mimiko and Nanako are with their friends. Tsumiki stayed after school for club.”

Just a couple of years ago, the thought of Mimiko and Nanako willingly spending time out of the apartment would have been a surprise. The two of them had been so recalcitrant about attending school. Suguru wanted to keep them homeschooled while Satoru thought putting them in school would be the best way to ease them out of their shell. It had taken time and patience, with several bad days, but eventually the two warmed up to their teachers and fellow classmates, Nanako especially. And where Nanako went, Mimiko always followed.

Mimiko had flowered into a sociable butterfly following her reintegration into society. It makes you happy to know that the two are alright now, so readily available to spend time with their friends.

“Just me and you, huh.” Megumi wouldn’t leave you though. Not yet. “Have you eaten?”

“Yeah,” he states. “Earlier. I was just finishing my homework.”

You glance at the kitchen counter, finding Megumi’s homework spread around. “You don’t usually do your homework outside your room.”

“It’s quiet with everyone gone,” he says bluntly.

You smile, taking a seat as Megumi slides in next to you. He resumes his homework, and you let him carry on, helping him when he asks, simply content to watch. A few pauses during this science homework which you help him through easily. He glides through his English homework, and you feel unnaturally proud of him as you proofread his work.

It doesn’t take him long to finish. Soon, he’s gathering his homework up and packing it into his backpack.

“I was thinking,” you start. You hear the door open in the distance. It must be the girls. Perfect timing. “That we could all go out for—”

You turn, every hair on your body rising in panic.

“Sato—s’guru,” you blurt out, frozen. “What are you guys doing back so early?” Your question comes out more accusative than you intended. Of course they could come back as early as they wanted. It was their home after all. You were the interloper.

It’s just..

You thought that you’d have a little longer!

The two of them look at you. You shift uncomfortably, gaze bouncing from them to the floor to the wall behind to anything else. You’re a little more aware of the heat of their gazes on you, pinning you to the spot. Your collar feels warm, nerves jumping beneath your skin.

“The meeting ended early,” Suguru says amicably, smiling at you in a way that would be reassuring at any other given moment. “Satoru didn’t want to stick around.”

Satoru is oddly quiet, gazing at you. Even with his sunglasses on, you feel the weight of it, that prickle that tells you he’s focusing his attention on you. Your bottom lip twinges. You are determined not to meet his gaze. Or hold Suguru’s for too long.

Satoru cocks his head to the side. “You staying over?”

You think it’s Satoru’s way of telling you to leave. That you’ve outstayed your welcome. Suguru is too nice to say it outright.

“No,” you say, voice thin, throat growing thick. “I’m leaving now.”

“Can we talk?” Suguru asks quietly after murmuring your name. He gazes at you.

That’s the last thing you want. To be alone with the two of them. You don’t want to hear what they have to say. You want to imagine things to be okay, just for a little longer. Until you can’t.

“I’m sorry!” You say suddenly, antsy, hit by a sudden need to justify your presence at their home. You hope Megumi forgives you for the lie you’re about to tell. You glance down at him. “I just came over because Megumi needed school supplies!”

There’s a long silence.

A shadow of a twitch of an eyebrow falls over Satoru's face. "Since when does Megumi need school supplies?”

Suguru watches you carefully.

Your face burns in silent shame. You stare at the floor, feeling horrible.

“Since today,” Megumi returns testily. “We’ll be going now.”

Satoru looks mortally offended.

Megumi takes your hand and walks you out while you can't bring yourself to lift your head.

Outside, you bury your face into your knees. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Just give me a few…”

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a shuddering breath while your heart races in your ears.

“Are Satoru and Suguru okay?” You suddenly ask Megumi, who stays silent next to you. “Any issues?”

“They’re the same as ever,” Megumi says tonelessly, but his face is softer in its worry.

You smile. “I’m fine,” you tell him reassuringly.

He's right. If anything, at least the two of them don’t seem to be fighting. Not like they were during the wedding. But you still don’t think you can go back in there, and now you’ve forced Megumi out of the apartment.

You feel a mixture of guilt and horrible, horrible dread slowly spreading through you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t have come. You probably don’t want to be out this late—”

“I don’t mind,” Megumi says. “I was going to take a walk anyway.”

That brings a small smile to your face. “It’s a bit late to take a walk, don’t you think?”

He shrugs. You feel a bit better at the fact that he’s not bothered at your impromptu outing. Rising, you take his hand once more. “Then let’s walk.”

You and Megumi walk around the neighborhood. The streets are dark, illuminated by streetlights in the mostly residential area. Other than the occasional dog walking passerby, the two of you walk in comfortable silence. Until the two of you find yourself all the way in Shibuya with its bright lights and noise. It’s easy to get lost in the lights of Tokyo’s busy nightlife. Throngs of people pass you by as you meander, following the crowd, with no particular destination in mind.

The two of you stop by a 7-11 tucked a bit further away from the bustle. You buy yourself a strawberry daifuku and ask Megumi if he wants anything. He isn’t hungry, so you buy him green tea.

More aimless walking takes you to Sakuragaokachō, away from the crowd. Streetlights and dark buildings greet you, but something about the area looks familiar. Nudges at muscle memory, the nerves in your foot. If Megumi notices your pace pick up, he doesn’t say anything.

You make your way down the street and slowly approach.

It’s a small, odd shaped building. With a curved dome of a roof that makes it look like a half moon.

You stare. “I think I used to come here.”

You remember the pitch blackness of a room, the steady hum of the ac that had filled the room, and the slow blinking of the stars coming alight on the ceiling. You remember this building.

The memory feels distorted. Incomplete. You feel like a clumsy child putting together a 500 piece puzzle, slotting pieces that don’t fit together. Your head hurts.

There’s a sign taped to the window next to the entrance. You momentarily squint.

Closing for good. All bookings are final.

Closing…for good…

Megumi calls your name.

“Sorry,” you blink it all away. “It’s nothing.”

“...Do you want to go in?”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just…”

“It’s still open.”

“That’s okay.” You don’t want to force Megumi along with your whims even more than you already have tonight.

“I want to go in,” Megumi points inside. “We can buy tickets right now. It’s the last show”

He looks serious enough that you consider it, glancing at the building. If it were any other child but Megumi you might have worried that it would be boring. “Alright,” you say slowly, less troubled. “If you really don’t mind…”

He tugs you forward. The two of you enter the carpeted lobby and approach the usher who hands you two tickets without much fanfare and tells you that this is the last showing of the night. To your great relief, nothing looks familiar. It’s all different. It might not even be the planetarium you had regularly been taken to as a child.

The two of you enter the dark room faintly lit by dim stars dotting the curved ceiling. There are three couples scattered across the room. You let Megumi pick your seats in the corner and slide in next to him on the reclining seats.

The seating is different. It used to be standard seating in rows. You think. You aren’t sure. Maybe you just aren’t remembering it right. You must not be remembering anything right, right now. You’re buffeted by a perturbed feeling that grows stronger with every passing second.

The room is enveloped in darkness. A recorded woman’s voice begins to play. One by one the zodiacs appear above you while the voice drones on about creation myths and history. Amanominakanushi, Takamimusubi, Kamimusubi.

Different constellations are projected onto the ceiling, constantly in motion, forming new shapes, fading in and out.

You used to come here. You were a child then. You aren’t a child anymore. Nothing is the same. You aren’t that naive child that had proclaimed this planetarium your favorite place in the world. You hadn’t cared about the planetarium as much as you loved being pressed against your warm father, and his steady hand on your head. Your mother’s hushed whispers pointing out more stars.

You suddenly can’t breathe. You are keenly aware of Megumi right next to you, the humming of the air condition in the background, the narrator on the speakers, and every single breath trapped in your chest. Your head spins.

You close your eyes, slowly fisting your knuckles until they’re tight, feeling your legs and arms go numb. It’ll pass. It’ll pass. Don’t bother Megumi. It’ll pass. It’ll pass.

“—a’am”

“She’s occupied.”

Megumi’s curt voice.

When you open your eyes, the lights are on and you are on the floor, clutching your knees to your chest. You blink, readjusting to the light.

The attendant looks unsure. She looks barely out of high school. “The show’s over and we have to clean up so…”

“Right,” you say unsteadily, embarrassment slowly creeping in. You stand. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright…” She looks more relieved than bothered. “The exit’s to the right.”

You quickly gather Megumi and make a dash for the outside.

“Sorry,” you tell him breathlessly, once the two of you have made it far away enough that the embarrassment isn’t as painful. You squeeze your eyes shut, press your hands into your eyes, and take a big gulp of air. “Megumi,” you mumble. “I’m really embarrassed right now.”

“It’s okay,” he says quietly.

There’s a horrible, sinking feeling in your stomach. You kneel down, meeting him at eye level, and manage your best smile. “Hey,” you say, cupping his face with your palm to even your gazes. You meet the dark purple of his eyes, the sincerity in their depths, and think that Megumi has all Fushiguro Toji’s roughness and grit, but none of his meanness. He couldn’t be more different than his father. Your Megumi is a good boy. “I’m alright. Thank you for spending the night with me.”

His gaze lowers. “Yeah.”

You stand back up, brushing your pants off. “I should take you back to Satoru and Suguru now…” You take out your phone to call a cab, but Megumi speaks up.

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

Your first thought, guiltily, is relief. You can’t send Megumi to the apartment himself so you resigned yourself to having to face Suguru and Satoru once more. You have a late morning tomorrow. It’s Saturday so Megumi doesn’t have school either. It’s the perfect opportunity.

You smile. “Of course you can.”

——

You text Satoru and Suguru that the two of you have arrived home, shut your phone off, and find Megumi already tucked underneath the covers of your bed. Thankfully Megumi had left some of his clothes the last time he had visited. You watch him for another minute, the steady rise and fall of his body, and the smallness of him. For once, he looks his age. Just another sleeping child.

A couple of years and he’d be as tall as you. You doubt the two of you would be able to comfortably share a bed as the two of you do now. You observe him, adjusting his sheets, smoothing out his hair, until you join him in slumber.

——

You wake up with a start, a scream building in your throat.

Megumi isn’t in bed. It’s still dark out. Fear grips your heart as you look around your room. Maybe your shuffling had woken him up and he had gone into your guest room to sleep. The thought makes you feel marginally better. But you also feel bad. You should’ve delivered him back to the apartment, swallowing down your discomfort in exchange for Megumi’s sleep.

“I got you water.”

You startle. It’s Megumi standing in the darkness of your doorway. You blink, adjusting to how the shadows meld into him, almost swallowing him whole.

Your throat happens to be parched. “Thank you,” you rasp out as Megumi presses the glass into your hand and climbs back into the bed. You drain the glass. “Did I wake you?”

Megumi’s silence tells you everything.

You sigh. “I’m sorry. It’s not usually this…” Bad. You figure it’s all the stress of your life. And then with Nagoya…

Megumi looks at you. “You were…” he trails off, pulling the covers up higher, up to his neck. “Nevermind. It’s nothing.”

You hope you haven’t been talking in your sleep.

Megumi falls asleep easily enough again, while you thread your fingers through his hair.

When sleep claims you once more, you hope for the forgiving light of the morning to come quickly.

You’re about to head home from the campus of jujustu tech when you catch a glimpse of blonde hair in your peripheral, turning the corner to the courtyard.

“Nanami!” You call out, and the figure stops.

Your kouhai turns to you as you approach, a respectful downtilt of his head. “Senpai.”

It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. He looks as good as you can normally attribute to him. Straight laced and responsible. Nanami’s always had a maturity to him that you’ve always thought highly of. It’s been years since the two of you were in high school, but sometimes you can still see the slight sullen downturn of his lips when Satoru does something particularly annoying. Some things don’t change.

“How have you been?” Judging from the overnight duffel in his grip, he must have just gotten back from an assignment of his own.

“The same as always,” he responds. “Thank you for asking.” A sensible answer you’d expect from him. He pauses, looking you over, the tinted eyepiece over his eyes offering you nothing. His gaze doesn’t pity you. He doesn’t offer you condolences. It’s an understanding that makes every single troubling thought resurface.

Oh, you think.

“I heard,” he says quietly. About Nagoya.

Your smile turns tight. You force it wider. “It’s over now.” You don’t know what else to say.

“The children…”

It’s a rare moment when Nanami is at a loss for words. You hadn’t expected Nanami of all people to bring this up in conversation. You’re not as upset as you could be about it. Talking to Nanami is and always has been…surprisingly easy.

“An aunt volunteered to raise them.” You think of the shell shocked son and the blank eyed older daughter. Your mouth turns sour. You stare at your shoes. Hopefully, they’ll get settled in soon. You will yourself to say the words but nothing comes out.

Nanami understands. “Ah. I see.”

The two of you stay silent.

“Nanami!” A voice exclaims loudly.

Satoru.

You don’t have time to react before Satoru is there, in front of you, loudly slapping Nanami on the back. You wince, both at the noise and Satoru’s sudden unwanted arrival. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were ignoring—”

Wordlessly, Nanami inclines his head to you once more, before turning on his heels and walking in the opposite direction of where he had been headed previously.

“He hasn’t changed one bit!” Satoru sighs. “Just when I thought the shared bonds of adulthood brought us closer…”

“...”

You wonder if you can slowly inch away.

He turns to you, as if sensing your intentions. You brace yourself for impact.

Satoru cocks his head to the side, studying you in silence, gaze shielded. You swallow, pulse starting up as you stare back at him.

“Seven tonight,” he finally says, to your great confusion. “Wear that…” he twirls a finger, “dress.”

A slow smile pulls at his lips. His fingers smooth out the collar of your dress shirt, and you swallow nervously when his fingers brush the heat of your neck. “Suguru barely got to see it, you know?”

Oh.

You hadn’t even thought about it since you shoved it back into your closet, hadn’t touched it. It felt wrong to throw it out. Shoko picked it out specially for you. Despite it all, you wanted to hang on to it.

He takes a step forward. You take a step back into the wall. He leans into you.

“Don’t be late!”

–

You hadn’t planned on wearing the dress. Then you looked up the restaurant on Google and nearly dropped your phone at the price range.

After taking your jacket, the hostess brings you to one of the private rooms in the back before leaving with a bow. You hover at the shoji, feeling anxiety grip you tightly, knowing that Satoru and Suguru are already inside. You wonder if you have to. You could lie, make up some excuse about an emergency as (un)well as it would be received.

The door abruptly slides open before you can decide.

“There you are,” Satoru simply says.

You aren’t given time to do anything else but take off your shoes as Satoru takes you by the wrist with an ironclad grip and leads you to the opposite of the table where Suguru is already seated.

He smiles at you as you slowly lower yourself onto the tatami matting floor. Even now, you still find comfort in Suguru’s smiles. It feels wrong.

“Have you eaten?” He asks as Satoru settles down next to him. “The wagyu here is famous.”

“I’m fine,” you say tightly. Hunger is the last thing on your mind as Satoru and Suguru watch you. Suguru with a carefully crafted smile, and Satoru with an unreadable expression. You’re so nervous you might pass out.

You stare down at your lap.

You are saved from the silence when a waitress knocks and enters the room with a tablet in her hands. Satoru begins listing off an obscene amount of food with Suguru occasionally chiming in with one thing or another. Wagyu, house smoked salmon, lobster, a colorful variety of more seafood, and more. They must be hungry.

Satoru goes quiet. You realize the waitress is waiting for your order. You raise your gaze with a small, polite smile. Had there even been a menu? “I’m not hungr—”

“Double everything,” Satoru says.

You stare at him.

“Add hot chrysanthemum tea to that,” Suguru adds.

“And that,” Satoru completes. “Put it all on my card, would you?”

You’re taken aback. You look to the waitress, hoping she hasn’t put in the order yet. “A-Actually—”

“That’ll be all,” Suguru says smoothly. “Thank you.”

The waitress bows and slips out of the room before you have a chance to say anything else. You don’t have time to comprehend her disappearance and you’re left staring at the empty space she had previously occupied, mouth slightly agape. You turn back to them.

“I ate bef—”

“Then you can eat a little more,” Suguru replies easily. A winning smile playing on his lips. “Right?”

You can’t meet Suguru’s gaze, but you feel it travel over you. “...”

When you chance a glimpse up, Satoru’s face is cradled in his palm. His gaze is centered a little lower than your face. You briefly wonder what he’s looking at when your hand automatically comes up to slap the memory of his teeth on your collarbone. The bruise is gone, but with Satoru looking at you like that you can’t be too sure.

The two of them share an infinitely amused glance.

Satoru opens his mouth. You beat him to it.

“I’m sorry!” You blurt out. You feel like it needs to be said before anything else. You clear your throat. “I’m sorry.”

Satoru raises an eyebrow. “Already?”

“What are you apologizing for?” Suguru asks.

Your fists curl, anxious to be speaking everything to existence. You struggled between acknowledgement and the relief of denial. You didn’t want it to be true, but it still happened, hadn’t it? “Everything,” you say plainly. “I didn’t…I don’t want to come between the two of you…I think that the two of you should talk things out more instead of…”

You think of Suguru’s face between your thighs. Satoru’s lips on yours. Your face feels embarrassingly warm. You want to crawl into the nearest closet, shut the door, and burrow into the floor.

There’s a knock on your door. Your waitress places your drinks down and leaves once more. Glad to have something to occupy your hands, your hands circle around the tea mug. It’s hot enough to burn, but the prickling of pain in your hands oddly enough, grounds you.

“It’s okay to be mad,” you say quietly. You should’ve stopped things before they escalated. Instead you let yourself be caught up in everything. “If the two of you want to be mad at each other then I’d rather you be mad at m—”

“Just a second!” Satoru raises his hand.

“Y-yes?”

He proceeds. “We’re not mad at you.”

Satoru meets your wide gaze evenly. Disbelief. You look to Suguru. You need confirmation.

“I was never mad,” he says, regarding you with concern. “More worried.” A wry smile. “You started avoiding us so suddenly…”

The revelation stuns you. They aren’t…mad? They don’t hate you? The two of them know everything. More disbelief. Relief wars with confusion. You don’t know what to think. You thought the worst, and maybe that was all your fault. You’ve always gotten too caught up in your head. It’s easy to spiral when you’re left alone with your thoughts. You don’t like being alone, the loneliness, but it’s your most familiar friend.

“I thought the two of you hated me,” you admit, fingers clinging to the warmth of the tea in your hands in lieu of fidgeting. “I thought the two of you would never want to see me again…” It doesn’t feel real. They aren’t mad. They aren’t mad at you. You could cry from the relief.

You eye them warily. “Are you still fighting?”

It’s Suguru who answers you, expression soft. “You could say we’ve come to a compromise.”

You straighten, feeling lighter than you have in what seems to be ages. They’ve called you here to forget about everything. Everything is alright. Everything is going to go back to how it was. Well, not exactly. Satoru and Suguru may get married in the near or far future, and you'll naturally, slowly, take your leave from their everyday lives. But you’ll still be friends. Suguru will still look at you fondly. Satoru will still afford you the same considerations that everybody else thinks he lacks.

“I’m glad,” you say earnestly with a wide smile. “Then I’ll forget about everything. I’ll pretend nothing happened.”

Everything is going to stay the same. You take immense comfort in that fact. Your nerves settle. You take a long sip of your tea.

The two of them share another look.

Suguru reaches out, his fingers brushing one of your hands that you laid palm down on the table sometime after Suguru told you he was never mad at you. His thumb sweeps over your wrist and you startle, pulse spiking. “Did it feel good?”

You blink. You don’t need to guess to know what he’s referring to. You glance from Suguru to Satoru and then back again, wordlessly opening and closing your mouth. You can’t escape from the question, or their combined scrutiny.

You press your legs together. “It…did…” There’s no need for you to have felt as if you shouldn’t have enjoyed it, but you still feel a pang of guilt. Satoru and Suguru aren’t mad at each other, or at you. They still love each other. Everything is going to be alright. Everything is going to stay the same.

“That’s good,” Suguru says warmly. “I wanted to make you feel good.”

“Oh,” you reply, breathless and unsure. “Thank you.”

Satoru exhales with a laugh that shakes his shoulders. It’s not derisive like you expected. It’s fond and amused. “How about all three of us feel good?”

You blink.

The implications aren’t lost on you. You open your mouth and then close it. Maybe Satoru and Suguru’s odd actions towards you had nothing to do with their argument in the first place. Maybe you were overthinking it all from the start. It’s just sex.

If you could help them feel good, then you don’t mind. “Okay.”

The two of them stare at you.

You wonder why they look so...surprised. It’s not as if you’ve never seen an occasional third breach their bedroom. A man or woman you've never recognized. It’s just sex. It’s normal. You think that maybe, like you, they want the comfort of something familiar. And if anything, you are familiar. But—

You’ve never had sex before.

You hesitate, feeling oddly self conscious about it as your gaze drops back to your lap. You’ve entertained some thoughts about it all, but you always figured the ugly scar on your abdomen would be discomfiting to most. And explaining it…

“I’ve never been with anyone before. I hope that’s alright.” You fidget. “I’ll try my…” you reluctantly meet their gazes, ”best.”

There’s a brief silence.

“That was easy,” Satoru remarks, squinting at you as if you’ve been replaced by an identical lookalike. He glances at Suguru. “We should’ve just done this earlier.” His gaze joins yours once more. “That easy?”

Earlier…

You stare at them, almost dumbfounded.

The two of them should’ve just asked earlier, to save you the emotional turmoil if anything!

It was only ever sex. It only is sex.

You hesitate. You don’t mind. You really don’t. It doesn't need to mean anything, especially with you. You prefer to look at it in simpler terms. Sex can be pleasurable, and with you, that’s all it would ever likely be. You doubt there are any other intentions involved.

Then you say, quietly, meaningfully, “I like…spending time with the two of you…”

A bark of laughter leaves Satoru’s mouth. “Well, we’re not exactly going to be watching movies —”

“You don’t need to,” Suguru suddenly says. “If you don’t want to, then you don’t need to.” He gives you a soft smile despite the sharp jab of his elbow into Satoru’s abdomen. Satoru hisses. Suguru doesn’t miss a beat. “Don’t let this guy pressure you.” There’s a pause. “Everything would stay the same.”

Maybe a part of you had been waiting for those words. Everything would stay the same. Suguru always knows what to say, you think, because his words feel like a confirmation.

“Are you two alright with me?” You ask. “I’m sure there are plenty of other people…” who know what to do.

You are gripped with sudden anxiety and your stomach twists into knots. You don’t know what to do. You wouldn’t know how to make them feel good. You’ll be terrible and they’ll wish they never asked you in the first place. You swallow the knot in your throat. “I’m sure Sasaki-san would love—”

“No,” Suguru’s fingers momentarily tighten over your wrist. “Only you,” he says at the same time Satoru says, “Who the hell is Sasaki?”

You blink. “5’4, brown hair cut into a bob, hazel eyes. She was wearing a silver colored kimono…” You pause thoughtfully, recalling the shapes and patterns. “There was an embroidered crane on it.” Running down the side of her left leg. “She smelled like apple blossoms and had soft hands…” She smelled good. You remember that, along with the heat of her fingers when they brushed your own. You stare down at the hand that had touched her, momentarily lost in thought.

Satoru stares at you blankly while Suguru looks vaguely resigned.

You try again. “The matchmaking ceremony you ditched…?”

Satoru is characteristically unrepentant. “Which one?”

“...”

Suguru looks like he’s trying to stifle laughter.

All those poor girls…

“Masaru Sasaki,” Suguru murmurs. Satoru makes an annoyed face.

“ That girl. She was practically hanging off your arm—” Satoru bites the rest of his sentence off, blue eyes narrowing at Suguru. “You cheatin’ on me?”

Your palms immediately turn sweaty. It could be a joke. It could also not be. Sometimes, with Satoru (and even Suguru at times) it’s hard to tell.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you,” Suguru replies blithely. “Maybe you’ve been neglecting me.”

You busy yourself with your lukewarm cup of tea, unsure of what to do. A second’s glance upwards and you’re met with an amused glint in Suguru’s eyes and a lazy grin curling at his lips.

If Suguru was lonely maybe that was why he sought you out in the first place. The more you think about it, the more it makes sense. You’re not one to comment on things that aren’t your business in the first place, but it seems more and more likely. You knew their boundaries. They knew you’d never push for anything they don’t want. If Satoru doesn’t like Sasaki-san, maybe they compromised on you.

You think back to Suguru’s words. They’ve settled on a compromise. That’s what you are, a compromise. The thought consoles you. In the end, it’s nothing serious. Nothing you should have given more than a second’s consideration. It’s as insignificant as a loose lipped comment. The two of them will have stopped fighting now. You’re glad for it.

Satoru snorts. “Neglecting you right into her open arms,” a derisive twist of his lips, “or should I say le—”

“She seems very nice!” You exclaim, sweating. “It’s not very nice of you to say things like that, Satoru.” You chide lightly, before you smile brightly at Suguru. “She’s very pretty.” You hope you come off encouragingly so that you can convey to Suguru that you are on his side. “She seems wonderful.”

Suguru blankly smiles back.

Luckily you’re saved from having to salvage the conversation when there’s a knock at the door. Your waitress returns with a cart of food, quickly laying down platter after platter. It doesn’t stop until almost every open space on the long wooden table has been filled with seafood. You stare at it. The abundance of it all. Maybe Satoru shouldn’t have doubled everything…

Your tea is refilled as Suguru murmurs his thanks. When the waitress takes her leave you’re still staring at all the food, unsure of where to even start when Suguru sets a stacked plate down in front of you.

You stare at the colorful array of sashimi and uni and the perfectly cooked wagyu. Your stomach already hurts at the coming richness of the meal, but now that the load of potentially ending Satoru and Suguru’s relationship has been lifted off of your shoulders you’re a bit hungrier than you were when you arrived.

Satoru keeps on loading your plate with more and more food. You pick up your chopsticks, intent on slowly shaving down the precariously tilting seafood tower on your plate when he conversationally asks, “So how was Nagoya?” as he places a large piece of uni on your plate.

You think of a sobbing, blood stained child clutching his mother’s severed hand in his arms. Then you think of Megumi.

Your appetite dies, stomach curling inwards.

They don’t know, you think as you look at the both of them seated across from you, waiting for your response. It was classified as a grade 2 mission after all. Two worlds shattered, and it hadn’t even merited a full time auxiliary manager. It’s considered beneath them now, eliciting the same mundane response as Suguru asking Satoru to check the week’s weather so that he can put umbrellas in the kids’ backpacks. The other week Suguru captured a curse that could have easily leveled Tokyo with a crushing tsunami. Satoru had been away in Malaysia.

It was just another child alone in the world, another corpse, another casualty.

You stare at your cup of tea. You hear Nanami’s gentle, quiet murmur in your ears. I heard.

You wonder if this is something you should even bother them with. There are always more important things to worry about than one of your bad days. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. Not really. You don’t matter. You never have.

“It was fine,” you hear yourself say. It was horrible. You’ve been having nightmares again. It’s been a long time since an assignment hit you this hard. “Just another assignment.”

“Did something happen?” Satoru stares you down.

“Not much.” You reply easily, wondering when it had gotten so easy to lie to them. Just about the small things.

You silently pick at a piece of hamachi. It’s not your place to get involved. You can’t get involved in the tragedy of all the assignments that make you feel as if everything you’ve ever done is redundant, even if you can logically acknowledge you’re unlikely to make a real difference. Not on a real, tangible level. It still makes you feel horrible.

You are suddenly, very, very tired.

“Are the kids home?” You want to see Megumi, wrap your arms around him, and squeeze him tightly just to reassure yourself he’s okay. You want him to never have to worry about jujustu society or the responsibility of being a jujustu sorcerer. You want him to be able to choose. It’s wishful thinking. It’s already late and the four of them should be getting ready for bed. You wish you could just hold Megumi, Tsumiki, and the twins. The four of them are so young, and already too old.

Suguru’s smile turns affectionate. “The twins are asleep by now. They had a late night yesterday. But Tsumiki’s probably still up doing her homework. I’m not sure about Megumi…”

“Probably sleeping,” you confirm. An early sleeper, and early riser. The boy had his habits.

“You wanna stop by?” Satoru asks casually.

You blink. You must be imagining the suggestion in his voice.

“I was just wondering about the kids,” you rush out, embarrassed for having even thought it in the first place. Of course not. It’s not as if they were expecting anything from you right now. If anything, you should bring the night to a wrap so the two of them can get back home instead of having to entertain you. “It’s getting pretty late out though, isn’t it? Maybe we should call it a—”

“You haven’t touched your food,” Suguru lightly frowns and although his displeasure isn’t aimed at you, you still feel somewhat chastened. “Still not hungry?”

“A-ah…” You pick your chopsticks once again. “Thank you for the meal,” you murmur, taking a bite of the first thing your chopsticks come into contact with. Octopus. You realize that it might have been rude of you to not eat anything when they’ve so graciously invited you to an expensive restaurant like this. Now that you’ve taken a complimentary swallow, you look up at them expectantly. “I don’t want to keep you two—”

“Maybe we should order some drinks,” Suguru takes a couple of bites out of his own food. “Satoru needs something sugary or he’ll be too restless to sleep tonight.” He sighs forlornly, despite his lips pulling into a teasing smile. “When he gets in a mood, he likes to push me around in bed.”

You blink.

Suguru looks at him, fond. “He’s a horrible sleeper.”

Satoru huffs. “And you love me for it.” A thoughtful pause. “I could use a drink.”

“Great.” Suguru presses the button on the table. It doesn’t take a full minute until your waitress appears in the room. “Your most sugary nonalcoholic drink and a cup of sugar. I’ll take a bottle of your most expensive Junmai Daiginjo. Two cups.”

You open your mouth to object, but Suguru beats you. There’s a concerned look on his face. “Is there something wrong with the food? I thought you would have at least finished your plate…”

Your waitress almost imperceptibly freezes, the smile high on her face. You look to her in a panic. “It’s delicious!” You look to Suguru and say once again, “It’s delicious!”

Satoru looks a few seconds away from breaking into loud laughter. He succumbs, snickering into his elbow.

Suguru breaks into a smile. “I’m glad. You’ll eat some more, won’t you?” Then to the waitress, he says, “Two cups.”

The waitress hightails it out of the room after a bow. You stare at your plate in silence as Suguru and Satoru have a pleasant conversation about how although Satoru hates going to the Zenin compound, he had found something interesting there the last time he visited (two weeks ago). Your ears perk when Suguru says heavenly restriction.

You take another bite of the food on your plate, intent on finishing half of it before your waitress comes back in an effort to make her feel more comfortable.

This time, your drinks are delivered by a waiter. You feel bad for your waitress who had probably asked to be transferred to a different room. Suguru pours you a cup as Satoru takes a long sip of what looks like a strawberry cream float. It looks like something out of an amusement park cafe, but Satoru looks satisfied.

You’re about to ask about the heavenly restriction, when Satoru eyes you.

“I should feed you,” he announces.

You stare at him. “What?”

He stands up abruptly. You watch as he makes his way to your side of the table in three long steps, and plops down next to you. He takes a large piece of uni and holds it up to your lips.

“Open up!” He says cheerily.

You do not open up.

He’s making fun of you, you’re sure of it. “You don’t need to feed me,” you say pointedly. You look to Suguru for help, but you only get a grin in response.

“Indulge him,” it almost sounds sympathetic. “He’s in a mood.”

Up close, his eyes are piercingly determined. You relent, opening your mouth as Satoru places the uni in your mouth.

“Now be good and finish your food,” he says smugly. “Or you can finish the rest on my lap.”

You stare at him in unabashed horror.

"At least try to look somewhat interested," Satoru deadpans.

Suguru snorts.

Under the threat of Satoru’s continued intervention, you slowly make your way through your plate as Suguru refills your cup. Time passes in a blur. Satoru is warm next to you, shoulder pressed to yours, and you resist the urge to lean on his shoulder. It’s almost reflexive, to sink into him. The two of them quietly talk about a child called Zenin Maki. You force your shoulders straight while their voices drift in and out, feeling your eyelids slowly dragging shut.

You blink when Suguru says your name. The two of them are looking at you.

“Sleepy?” Suguru inquires.

You slowly nod. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I should go.” You gather your things, but when you rifle through your bag to find your keys you realize they aren’t there. You pat your pockets, search your bag once more, and still. “My keys…”

Satoru lifts a finger to your face, the ring of your keys looped around his index. You reach out to grab it but Satoru lifts it away. You’re confused. Those are your keys. You reach for them again, but Satoru swiftly moves away. You’re debating on stopping him with your cursed technique. Infinity isn’t on, you can tell.

“Satoru—”

“How about a kiss first?” He murmurs, leaning in, lips hovering close.

Your bottom lip throbs, as if remembering the shape of Satoru’s teeth and the way it had drawn blood.

…

You’re already putting on your shoes. Satoru must have sneaked a few sips of Suguru’s alcohol. He’s drunk.

“I’ll stay somewhere else tonight,” you say quickly. Shoko would probably still be up. If not, there were always hotels around. In the morning you’d ask your building’s super to open your door. You have a spare key inside.

Satoru sputters. “Hold on!”

Suguru laughs, long and loud. You relish the sound, despite your back being turned against him. He says your name.

You pause, meeting his gaze over your shoulder. To give him the benefit of doubt if anything. Suguru pats the floor next to him.

You eye him. Suguru’s expression is full of innocuous intent.

“At least let me look at you before you leave,” Suguru sighs out. “Before you leave us again.”

Suguru looks sad. It makes you feel…kinda bad. You have been busy lately, haven’t you? (Avoiding the two of them.) You don’t like it either. You’re glad this dinner has resolved most of your worries. You crawl to him, intending to say your goodbyes to his face, but Suguru takes your hand.

You aren’t sure how you end up on his lap. You really aren’t. You were on the floor and now you aren’t, and Suguru’s chest pressed to your back. You open your mouth and then figuring against it, you close your mouth. You opt for staring down at your own lap and trying to stay still enough to rival a statue.

Suguru’s arms wrap around your waist. “Much better,” he murmurs, playing with the hem of your dress that reaches down to your ankles. “I like this color,” he says conversationally, as if your mind isn’t white blanket quiet in your panic. “Did Shoko get this for you?” His lips brush your ear.

You nearly bolt but Suguru’s arms hold you down.

“Pfft.”

You give Satoru a wide eyed look pleading for help from where he’s made himself comfortable on the floor in front of you, lying on his side, head propped up to the side by a hand.

…You hadn’t expected Satoru to help.

You really didn’t.

You feel your will to flee slowly drain out of you. Prey resigning itself to be dinner.

“Shoko…picked it out.”

“She likes dressing you,” Suguru says with a small laugh, releasing your hem and hiking your skirt up high enough for his hand to slide up your thigh in a caressing gesture. “How about you give Satoru and I a turn next?”

You blankly burn a hole into your lap, deathly mortified. “That’s…” a little embarrassing, you think. Why would they ever want to do that? Satoru is looking so intently at you that he could be jealous, and you think you might be sick. After all that talk about Suguru feeling neglected…

“Like…another dress?”

Suguru hums.

“...Shoes?”

Suguru laughs. You can feel his smile. "Among other things."

“S-Suguru,” you start, putting your hand over his arms locked around you. “I should really get going…”

He sighs, and you can feel it in his chest. “Right. Of course.”

You wait for him to loosen his arms, to free you, but he doesn’t move.

“...Suguru—”

“Kiss tax!” Satoru interrupts, suddenly in front of you. He’s insistent, leaning into you once again with a hand on your thigh, except you have nowhere to back away but into Suguru. “Just one and you’ll be on your way!”

This is humiliating. You want to die.

Satoru’s face hovers closer and closer. Without thinking you intercept his lips with a hand, muffling his mouth.

“We shouldn’t,” you blurt out. “Not in public.”

Satoru doesn’t deign you with a response. Instead his gaze exaggeratedly sweeps the room, as if to emphasize the lack of other people.

Someone could come in. Anyone could see. They don’t want to be accidentally seen with… you. “Nobody can know.” Then for good measure you say it again. “Nobody can know.”

Satoru isn’t happy. You can tell by the press of his lips. Suguru’s gaze bears into the top of your head. But you’re worried about their prospects. About everything they might regret. It’s best to keep this a secret. They’ll thank you for it later, you’re sure.

“Who car—”

“Please.”

Satoru momentarily glances upwards. He’s still unhappy. “Fine. Right Suguru?”

“That’s right,” you hear him say from behind you. His tone is carefully measured. You don’t want to look at him, and you can’t discern his feelings either. “A secret.”

You exhale. “Thank you.”

After a second of agonizing hesitation, you lean forward and press a small, short kiss to Satoru’s waiting lips. When you pull back, you shyly say, “kiss tax paid.”

“That was nothing,” Satoru says immediately. “Ten more.”

You frown.

“You forgot someone.” Suguru’s voice is light, almost chiding.

You didn’t forget. You just hoped it wouldn’t have to come to this. You turn your head to the side and lean in. Suguru meets you halfway, lips soft on your own. Almost immediately, Suguru’s arms go lax, as a hand comes up to cup your face, thumb running along your cheek.

It lasts a second longer than Satoru’s kiss, which is already enough to get him whining about timing the length of your kisses which means more kissing.

All that matters is that you’re finally free. You jump to your feet, swipe your shoes, and run out the door without a second thought.

#geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ddao #m.jjk

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jukeboxjackal · 1 year

Text

Headcanon- Dating Jock! Carol Danvers

Carol Danvers x fem! Reader

A/n: Hey guys, hey guys. Haven’t been here in a while. If i’m not here, it’s either because of writers block, i don’t feel like it, low motivation, or just general laziness. But enjoy my first actual piece in a while though! I just write sometimes now lmfao

Ok ok so first of all, just in general information I feel like she is the softball captain. Reason being is softball is stereotypically a gay sport LMFAO but I guess it’s kind of right (I say this as a softball player and a friend haha) and I think she’d be utility playing either pitcher, catcher, or 3rd base

Anyways to follow with the last bullet, I feel like she would definitely have an undercut and show it almost allll the time. She also has a varsity letterman jacket that may or may not on the tag on the inside say: ‘Property of: Carol Danvers ⁺⁽ʸ/ⁿ⁾ ⁽ˡ/ⁿ⁾♡) You definitelyyyy did not write the second part

More in the popular crowd, whether you are too is up to you

Her arch-nemesis has got to be the volleyball captain Valkyrie. For one, they don’t get along and two, she so obviously has a thing for you

She’s usually hanging out with her friends in the halls or the courtyard, but when she sees you walk by she immediately goes to catch-up with you

She’s superr protective of you. When she’s walking with you she’s always holding your hand or she has an arm around you at all times. If anyone says anything even slightly snarky to you she’ll look them dead in the eye and say ‘Wanna repeat that?’

She also loves when you wear her clothes and especially her sports jackets, helps to show people that you’re hers

Her nicknames for you are the cliches, such as: Babe, baby, sweetheart, (Y/N/N), princess, and my lady/ girl. Whereas you like to call her: Care-bear (she acts like she hates it but you know she doesn’t), bubs, captain or cap, and baby

She does get jealous, but only when you’re clearly interested in the other person. Like when you were hanging out with that one ballet girl Natasha Romanoff who was teaching you but was also way too close to you and she told the dancer to back off

As much as I might get some hate for this, I do feel like she might have been a bit of a bully. Not in the way that she’d go out of her way to be mean to others but just to uphold a reputation. Like if she’s with her popular friends she’d snicker and make some snarky rude comment about a less-popular kid, but if you ever saw her do it she’d apologize to you and to the other secretly

She’s super sweet to you, always going over to your house and bringing you something whether it’s food or flowers

She usually gives you rides to and from school

Don’t forget about y’all’s after-game dates!

#6 on the field but #1 in your heart that’s for sure

If you were to also be on the softball team as well, she’d still treat you the same as the other girls (but behind closed doors that’s different) Like the one time where the team had lost a game and she made you guys do laps for every base you could have stolen but after that she took you out to eat and she apologized profusely

Make-out sessions in the locker room and the bleachers

If you don’t play, you still make sure to be at all of her games. Home or away, you find a way (ooh that rhymed)

Let’s not talk about that one time she was pitching and behind the cage she saw you talking to the opposing team member who had to use the bathroom

She’s your #1 gym buddy and vice-versa

Oh and she definitely said I love you first

Overall, she is the sweetest and you would consider her damn-near perfect. She definitely has her flaws but that’s with everyone. Your love is unmatchable.

Hey guys! Sorry if this wasn’t as straight to the point as my last headcanon was, but I just had a lot to say I guess lol. Anyways, I’ll probably come back to edit this in a few hours I just wanted to put something out for now. Until next time!

Thanks for reading! Feedback, requests, and inquiries are always appreciated and welcome!

#carol danvers x female reader #jock!carol #marvel imagines #carol danvers imagine #marvel headcanons

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ohdudedhesflirting · 1 year

Text

I love you so I let you go

Pairing: Seok matthew x gender neutral reader

Warnings: Y/N is insecure (extremely), insults

Notes : I havent written anything in over a year due to various reasons so its messy lol and globally bad. Its just to get me back on writing and get rid of my writing trauma lmfao. English is my second language. (Also darling seok02 I am not tagging you bc you deserve better this, I will do better I promise <3)

Genre: University au, Matthew fell first, friends to sweethearts, angst, break-up.

Synopsis: Y/n and Matthew are in a relationship but sometimes insecurity get the best of you..

.....Under the cut ...!

Many people had different names to qualify you. Dumb, weak, unworthy, ugly..

You were used to it by now. You knew that the words you were over-hearing on a daily basis were not real.

The insults had started when your relationship to your boyfriend, Matthew, became public.

Matthew and you were the same age, coming from the same city, friends since school and finally at university as well. You werent majoring in the same discipline but it didnt matter, Matthew always made time for you, his favorite friend to hang out, eat together. He always made sure you were never eating alone.

Something had shifted in your relationship a year ago, when you went back home and realised that Matthew wasn't only glued at your hip at university.

You were quite the insecure person and even if you had known Matthew your whole life there was this little part of you that always thought that if he was hanging out with you daily was because he had taken you on pity.

How could he not ?

You had grown up together. You played as childrens, had braces together, learned together how to tie your shoelaces. Of course he would feel pity for you. And stay by your side at univerisity were you knew no one and had not made any friends.

Matthew on his side, social butterfly he was, had quickly made friends, Kim Jiwoong an acting major a few years older, Kim Tae Rae and Zhang Hao from the composing major...

You never understood why Matthew always took them with him to have lunch with you, or simply ditching them to not leave you alone. But it was fine, you thought "well he pity me, what can I do" and thought it would stop once you went home.

But it didnt, he was even clingier then when you left your respective parent's houses at the beginning of the school year.

He was swinging by your home almost daily, taking your dog on walks with you, doing gardening with your father.

Thats when you started to question it. Why was he nice to you ? Yes you grow up together, yes he must have felt some kind of responsabilities when you were at the university but here ? In the city of your childhood..? With no one but people you knew you whole life ? Why was he staying by your side ?

Naturally you asked him, and he confessed, hands shaking and tears in his eyes. You were left with only confusion.

Matthew was the sweetest person that you could ever think of, why would he likes you?

Pleading with you he had convinced you to put him over a trial, "try being my partner for two weeks, give me two weeks, and if afterwards you are not interested, we will stay as friends"

Of course, you didn't need those two weeks to know that Matthew was the best person ever, and well, that you liked him.

Coming to your place to watch movies together, accompanying you when you had to do grocery shopping for your parents. Going on drive to see the sea together, laying on the grass together to observe the clouds and give them shapes (and mainly fighting over said shapes)

The two weeks had passed and you stayed together.

Your summer break was the best part of your life, you had enjoyed every single second of it. Enjoying each other presence. Both of your famillies were most than pleased at the way your relationship had developped.

You never told Matthew you loved him, he was always the one to do so. There was always this little voice in your head to tell you that you were not good enough for him, pretty enough, clever enough. But it was fine you managed to deal with it.

But you got back to your university, and one of his classmate found out about you two dating and quickly, like fire, the news spread out on campus. Matthew was popular, with girls, with boys. And quickly you became "Matthew's partner".

People were coming to you, asking you if you were Matthew's signifiant other, laughing in your face, belittling you, saying your relationship would never make it through, that you werent enough for him. That he pitied you.

Until one day you could not stand it anymore. You were at Matthew's place, the appartement he shared with his friends, laying together on the couch. Matthew was watching his favorite anime, completely immersed in it.

But you, their words kept coming back, again and again.

Turning your face from the tv screen to your boyfriend, you admired his feature, chocolate like hair, a big smile, sparkling eyes. He was the prettiest, kindest person you had ever met. And you loved him so much.

"Wake up Y/N, Matthew is just doing charity work you know ? One day he is gonna ditch you and then what ? You are nothing"

You felt your stomach hurts, and once again since a few weeks you ran to the bathroom, the sudden urge to vomit. Matthew stoped the movie and urged to the bathroom, putting his hand on your back, rubbing it slowly, comforting you.

Once you were done, he slowly picked you up, and laid you down on the couch. Picking up a glass of water he was getting back to your side.

"Are you alright love ?"

You stayed silent for a few seconds, looking at his face. He was worried, it wasn't the first time you were vomitting in a short time.

"I want to break up."

Matthew went further on his place and looked at you without understanding what was happening.

"What do you mean ?"

"You and I. Breaking up. I can't do it anymore. I just can't."

He was looking at you without words, the last events of the last months going back in his head. What was happening ? Why did you wanted to break up ? Since when were you feeling like this ?

"Why..? We are doing just fine..? Why do you wanna..?"

It was your turn to be without words, you had never told Matthew about what people were saying to you. Always enduring by yourself.

There was this little voice, greedy voice, that always told you that if you were to speak up about it he would just break up with you more quickly. You were just greedy, you wanted to keep him by your side just a little bit longer.

Unable to speak any words, you stand up, packing your stuff in your bag, tying your shoelaces, Matthew follows you, wordless.

"I love you, please, don't let go of me"

You looked at Matthew one last time, his tears were starting to fall on his cheeks, you took your jacket and went out.

Closing the door behind you, you feel your breath hurting your chest, you go down the stairs, and finally you make it at the bottom of the building.

Walking across your campus, head hidden in your hoodie, you make it to your dorm. Closing your door behind you. And finally letting yourself go.

You allow yourself to cry, in a place safe, where no one can see you or hear you.

Matthew last look kept coming back inside your head, and you couldn't get it out.

It was breaking your whole heart out but there was this part of yourself that kept thinking that he was just better off without you. You were stopping him from his real life, keeping him behind everything.

Seok Matthew deserved better than you. You loved him so you had to let him go.

Part 2.

#this was terrible #sorry for your eyes #zerobaseone fanfiction #zerobaseone imagine #zb1 fanfiction #zb1 imagine #seok matthew #seok matthew zb1 #seok matthew zerobaseone #seok matthew fanfiction #seok matthew imagine #seok matthew x reader #i love you so i let you go

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satoruvt · 2 years

Text

just me, just you

pairing → kwon soonyoung x reader

word count → 635

genre → fluff, vaguely mentioned neighbors au, vaguely mentioned college au LMFAO, friends to lovers? kind of??? ↳ tags: random vague trip!, neighbor hoshi, CUTE hoshi, rooftop chats ?, soonyoung being sweet and stupid a little bit also, holding hands, a City, taking pictures kinda, flirting ????????, umm its cold. thats it

song inspo → older by 5sos feat. sierra deaton <3

warnings → none !!

a/n → can i be honest. i have been on a trip recently and this has been the only thing on my mind. literally in pieces over it. also i wrote this in like 25 minutes so absolutely nothing is proofread and you guys are getting this as is enjoy stay warm uhhh. horanghae

“Aren’t you cold up here?”

Soonyoung’s voice almost gets carried away by the wind, but it manages to reach you somehow. You turn around to look at him, briefly, watch for a moment as he walks closer to you. Pulling the sleeves of your new puffer jacket down to cover your hands, you shrug.

“A little,” you say when he gets close enough. His nose is already red from the cold. “The view’s worth it, though.”

It is, truly. The skyline of an unfamiliar city is more beautiful than anything you’ve ever seen, yellow and blue lights from windows twenty stories high gleaming in the dark. The bridges reaching across the water from one part of the city to the other glow over the barely visible waves. It’s cold, but not bitter. You’re thankful for your hotel’s rooftop access.

“Wah,” Soonyoung says, like he’s just noticing the lights around the both of you. You snort at him. “You’re right, it’s so pretty.”

The two of you stand in silence for a moment, taking in the distant sounds of police sirens and car horns. It’s peaceful, somehow, ambient all the way up here. You feel wistful thinking about the nature of things – on a barely-planned, week long trip with your neighbor slash friend from college. The timing was the least impulsive part about it, despite it being two weeks before finals start rolling out; the calm before the storm, maybe.

With no itinerary and no clue about what was even available to you in the city, you’ve spent your time gently and without any rush. Too many things to do, so might as well just go for the things that seem the most interesting.

“Hey, look over here for a second,” Soonyoung calls suddenly, and you wonder when he got so far away. You turn a little to see him halfway back to the stairwell door, his phone pointed at you. You blink, but offer a little smile for one picture and a cute pose for another.

“How long were you taking pictures of me?” You ask, jokingly interrogative. Soonyoung smiles, shrugs, scrolls through a few in his camera roll as he walks back up to you.

“Long enough,” he responds, then, looking at you, “you looked pretty. I wanted to capture it.”

Oh, you think, blinking at him. He smiles, but you can practically feel him start to get nervous at your lack of words. “I see,” you say. “Thank you.”

And maybe it doesn’t have to mean what you think it does, maybe it could mean something sweet and friendly. Something kind and a safe distance away.

But maybe it’s something close and gentle. Something warm and romantic. With just the two of you here…

“You didn’t happen to bring any hot packs up with you, did you?” You ask suddenly, feeling the chill of nervousness start to reach you. You shiver when a breeze flows by.

Soonyoung shakes his head. “No. Should I go get some? I think I brought some with me, they’re just in my suitcase –”

“No,” you interject. Your face feels warm despite the cold, and you think of introducing yourself as his neighbor, and then seeing him on campus the following Monday. You think of his big, eager grin and all the times he’s come over for dinner because you cook so much better than him. “Just, uh. Give me your hand?”

Soonyoung is notoriously a little slow, but he must catch onto you quick, because he grins that big, eager grin and holds your hand, wrapping his fingers around yours gently. It’s impractical, does little to actually keep either of your guys’ hands warm, but you think both of you know and neither of you care.

Besides. With a view this pretty, you can’t even feel the cold.

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knightofameris · 4 years

Note

Hiii! I was wondering if you had any fluffy fic recs? If you use AO3 and have any recs from there that would be nice too! Thank you!!!

AHDJSJD. okay I honestly do not mind giving out fic recs. Just for starters tho I do have a fic rec blog @knightofreaders !! You can also search through my blog with the tag “ameris’ fic recs”

Otherwise for now I’ll rec some AO3 ones and tumblr ones rn!! Mostly AO3 because you can find the tumblr ones on my rec account. I’m just giving recs I can think of off the top of my head rn. I’m sure I’m missing some.

Some of them might actually be GN!reader and not fem!Reader. I may have fucked up when labeling. Hmm.

Also I curse a bit on this. a lot. LMAO also terrible spelling throughout. good luck.

Fly High, Baby! by beartea on AO3

180k+ || slowburn || series ; completed || reverse harem || fem!reader

This one is one of my favorites. I’ll probably go hunting for the post (here!) I made for it but I went so hard on my lil review. It’s a reverse harem, slow burn. But they have such a beautiful writing style and their characterizations are spot on. I don’t know if anyone else have ever understood these characters this well with how they break down the characters. Literally break them down, make them raw because they’re crying and you’re crying suddenly too. The MC is incredibly relatable IMO. She has a personality while also being written where you can relate to her. I see myself in her. But I also see my friends. And my friends are themself in her. And she’s annoying. And frustrating. And she’s human. Reverse harem includes: Ushijima Wakatoshi, Kuroo Tetsurou, Sugawara Koushi, Akaashi Keiji, Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru.

Times I’ve cried reading: probably like at least 5x. MC does have a given last name but that is because she’s adopted. Also, I’m not an Ushi fucker at all, but tea made me like,,, just love ushi,,, a lot

Ghosts We See by Renesis on AO3 // @renesis-jj here on tumblr

200k+ || slowburn || isekai || series ; ongoing || fem!reader || reverse harem

Another masterpiece, also a favorite. I think Ren does a great job world building, she truly makes it an experience and at this point I’m not even reading it for the haikyuu boys LOL. I absolutely love how she brings us into the story (as the MC or just as a reader) and submerses us into this world she created. she does a great job showing us the world rather than telling, keeping us in the dark like MC, and guiding us through the world like MC as well. Ren also has an incredible way of understanding the characters, even their alternate forms because at the core they’re all the same. But because the ones in the alternate world grew up in a harsher environment of sorts, they seem different. Harem includes: Ushijima Wakatoshi, Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Tetsurou, Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu, Kita Shinsuke, Suna Rintarou, Oikawa Tooru

Ren has multiple side stories intertwined as well which makes it just absolutely amazing. I should ALSO mention, I was already an inarizaki fucker but Ren made me go oh shit. also the same as I said about Ushi from beartea, I was not an Ushi fucker but Ren also made me like him a lot more

Next Time by @\dorkyama (I am not tagging her I’m too shy lol)

??k+ || slowburn || exes to lovers || completed || fem!reader || Miya Osamu

UGH one of my favorite series (I keep saying that) for osamu this time. I love the way remy portrayed MC. She’s frustrating and annoying but so real. She also did a great job showing the relationship with MC and Osamu. It’s funny people were always angry at Osamu but personally I was always angry at MC. I think more so because I’d do what she’d do lol (i was going to add all the chapters word counts but lol)

Sugar Sweet series by @kuroos-babie

parent AU??? lol || ongoing || fem!reader || multiple

So this is actually connected to all of her single mom!headcanons. I haven’t read all of them but I DO know that the one’s I have read make my heart just throb. If you know me, you know how much I do Not Like Kids. Well it’s not that I don’t like them, it’s more like I would not want to be a parent lol. I’m fine with being that older figure someone looks up to, but not in a parent way,,, but like Chiqui makes me question it every so often LMAO. But I’d like to be the cool aunt or idk.

embroidered hearts by memento_amare on ao3

2.1k+ || one shot || strangers to friends to lovers || fem!reader || Sugawara Koushi

This is just insanely fluffy. And. It makes my heart cry with how cute it is. Because MC is scared of love and yet,,, Suga shows her it’s okay to be scared but to let herself love.

the comfort of your hand in mine by memento_amare on AO3

1.2k+ || one shot || childhood friends to lovers || fem!reader || Sugawara Koushi

Another fluffy one. I just loved it for the mutual pining and childhood friends to lovers and the revelation. Ugh. It’s also on tumblr now :3c

Read more because I have a lot lol.

Claustrophobia by melremade on AO3

11.2k+ || two shot || friends to lovers (?) || Sugawara Koushi || a lil spicy || fem!reader

I thought this one was cute LOL. Sugas adorable in here and it’s only a lil spicy cus it had a pretty detailed make out session

Miscellaneous by Thisisforthebest on ao3

?.?k+ || multiple parts || fem!reader || has some SPICEY moments but it’s cute fluff mostly.

This ones hard to group. This one has a bunch of stories split into parts throughout different chapters of this uhhhh AO3 fic? I’ve admittedly only read Suga’s and Oikawa’s. I love both and Oikawa’s is still unfinished. suga’s is childhood friends to lovers and ugh it’s just so cute. Oikawa’s is also cute and I wanna scream. There are also other characters on here, but I haven’t read them oops. I only was interested in Suga’s and Oikawa’s lol.

Drop the Guillotine by rosequartsy on ao3

13.7k+ || one shot || friends to lovers (?) || a lil SPICEY || fem!reader || Miya Osamu

I’ve gone back to this fic once or twice. It’s well written and it’s obvious about the pining going on in both sides and. Well I like it kol. And idk how to talk about it without giving out spoilers

All I Want by declaraso on AO3

44.5k+ || series ; completed || slow burn || childhood friends to lovers || fem!reader || Miya Osamu

The slow burn in this one was so FRUSTRATINF. and yet I kept reading because I loved it so much. You really want to bonk MC AND SAMU.

Crush like WOAH by herecomestroublr on AO3

9.2k+ || one shot || established relationship || fem!reader || Sugawara Koushi

HINATA goes to his two upperclassmen for help on confessing. And MC and suga explain their relationship development lol. This one was just really cute cus it focuses on Mc and suga but at the same time not.

too easy by @\kuroopaisen

3.2k+ || one shot || friends to lovers || Sugawara Koushi

Another fic I go back to a lot. I JSUT love friends to lovers. And I can see how this relationship developed so well and realistically??? Because there were moments in there I could relate to with my former relationships lol

pillow fort rituals by @\kuroopaisen

3.9k+ || one shot || childhood friends to lovers || Kuroo Tetsurou

My one single kuroo rec on here. lol. Well not counting the reverse harems. Anyways this one I absolutely LOVED. it was just well written and it was another type of relationship I’d want, one that kinda eases into one from friendship. I love that shit. I also think about this one a lot. I also enjoy this one a whole lot because, well, I like the idea of a relationship developing naturally in a way where there are no declarations of love or likes. It just happens and you know it’s there and the other knows its there. and maybe eventually you both do talk about it but. it’s there.

Can you guys tell I have a strong preference towards gray haired characters 🤡🤡 and can you tell what my favorite tropes are ajdhajjd

Anyway I’m sure some of these you may have already seen. But these are my absolute favorite. Or maybe they are ones you’ve seen while scrolling through AO3 or tumblr but never gave a chance because I dunno. Some ARE long which is understandable. But hopefully this will convince you because hngngh

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #sugawara koushi x reader #I really do have a type and a trope I love. type being gray haired characters and most of the time suga lol #I tried keeping it short #I didn’t want to do a readmore but #I had to #PLEASE I implore you guys to check these out #they’re my favorites #I definitely go back to #thinking about them #so much lok #ameris’ fic recs #anon bb!!#not using the normal ask response tag because #THIS ONE JS SI GOOD SJDSJJD #only giving it two x reader tags because LMFAO #it's mostly suga anyway oops

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ashthemadwriter-archived · 2 years

Text

Characters reacting to their s/o squirting

Fandom:MultiFandom

Pairings: Various Characters x Fem!reader

Genre:Nsfw,smut,comedy

Format:idk what to call it =\

Warnings:NSFW Content

Word Count:163

A/n: since i love these dirty imagines so much,here you go :D

↬Planned it.wanna make you feel like a fucking queen who's his and only his.wants you to know that only he's able to give you this much pleasure,so when your legs start shaking and a huge amount of cum literally flies out of your wet pussy,they smirk and keep rubbing your clit until youre begging them to stop from overstimulation.

Haikyuu:Iwaizumi,Kuroo,Daichi,Sugawara,Tsukishima,Akaashi Bungou Stray Dogs:Dazai(ofc),Fyodor,Ranpo,Mori,Kouyou,Yosano,Nikolai,Jouno,Teccho The Case Study Of Vanitas:Vanitas,Roland Death Note:Light Yagami,Mello,L Lawliet Jujutsu Kaisen:Saturo Gojo,Suguru Geto Moriarty The Patriot:William Moriarty,Albert Moriarty,James Bonde,Sebastian Moran

↬Accidentally makes you squirt.it was unplanned,but you screaming from pleasure and your head falling back just makes them sooo proud of themselves.they wont tell you that tho,just make it look like they did it intentionally and they might even brag about to their friends lmao.

Haikyuu:Oikawa(this is literally him lol),Hinata(imagin him and his proud face),Nishinoya,Tanaka(the only reason these two are not in the next category is because they watch porn and knows what squirting is),Bokuto,Tendou,Kenma,Ushijima (the last two wont tell anyone but yeah) Bungou Stray Dogs:Atsushi(this bitch),Chuuya,Kunikida,Fukuzawa,Tachihara,Tanizaki,Gin,Higuchi,Kaji,Sigma Death Note:Near,Matsuda Jujutsu Kaisen:Yuji Itadori,Megumi Fushiguro Moriarty The Patriot:Louis Moriarty,Sherlock Holmes,John Watson

↬Freaking out.they think they broke you or something and now youre dying (lifes liquid is being sucked out of you lmfao) already on their way to call an ambulance when you tell em that youre fine,and explaine to them what had happened while trying to catch your breath.

Haikyuu:Kageyama(awww this clueless,hot guy),Asahi,Yamaguchi Bungou Stray Dogs:Akutagawa(my poor baby T^T) The Case Study Of Vanitas:Noe

I actually feel bad for myself cause i have to tag so many characters :')just dont freak out when you see the tags lmao-Ash

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babyboibucky · 3 years

Text

The Match - Part 8

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You get a preview of what it’s like to be working with Mackenzie.

Warnings: I apologize as there is no smut in here lmfao but there is a stubborn Bucky lols

A/N: The jitters just never go away whenever I post a new part for this ajkcnjasncakjcnakj I find this part boring tbh but uhh things will start picking up again in the next part I promise

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky decided to push through with his partnership with Wilson Enterprises. It was a big one, so it definitely required the entire team's effort and perseverance. Apparently, this is the company's biggest, most major project yet so this was going to look really good in your resume. It would also provide you with more credibility to further excel in your career.

Except that Bucky actually hired a marketing consultant to take over the entire project as his revenge.

"Any questions? About the project or about Kenzie?" Bucky asked, standing in front of the conference room, next to Mackenzie.

You confidently raised your hand when no one else did. Bucky tilted his head, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew you were affected, of fucking course you were!

"Yes?" he called out.

You stood up and sighed softly, "I mean this in the most respectful way, Mister Barnes." you said, emphasizing his name. "But as the head of marketing, what exactly is my role here? Given that Mackenzie was hired to spearhead the marketing aspect of this project." you said, giving Mackenzie a passive aggressive smile.

"I don't want to overstep on some boundaries here, that's why I'm asking. I just want clarity, that's all." you said.

Bucky was about to respond when Mackenzie stopped him, grabbing his arm and squeezing it before taking over the floor. You narrowed your eyes at how her slender fingers were wrapped around Bucky's arm.

"Honey..." Mackenzie started. "There's nothing to worry about, this is a collaborative work between you and I. So think of yourself as my assistant, someone to help me out with the project." she responded.

Bitch.

"I'm not an assistant, Mackenzie." you said, smiling at her.

Mackenzie laughed, "I'm sorry, my bad. I shouldn't have used that term. Oops." she said. "Although, I believe I have more experience in this area so maybe consider me a mentor?" she suggested.

Bitch!

Bucky cleared his throat, "If you have certain ideas, you can discuss it with her. She is a consultant after all. Given her impressive experience in the field, I'm sure you'll learn a thing or two from her."

The meeting was wrapped up by noon and you simply couldn't wait to get yourself out of the conference room. You didn't feel like talking to Bucky anymore in all honesty, not after what he was doing. You knew this was just to spite you, get you to cave in first and give in to him.

All the more that you wouldn't, especially not when he actually used your job against you.

Everyone started rushing out of the conference room, ready to head out for lunch. As soon as you reached the doorway, you overheard the short conversation between Bucky and Mackenzie.

"Hey Bucky, we still up for lunch?"

The bathroom was empty when you stepped inside and thank god for that because you couldn't hold back your emotions any further. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes, not because you were hurt. Fuck no, you were angry and frustrated. So fucking angry at yourself for getting into this mess, at Bucky for being such an entitled prick, at the entire world for plotting against you.

You groaned in irritation as you wiped away your tears, sniffing as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You worked your ass off for this job, for your position. You risked your dignity when you let Bucky fuck you. You weren't going to let someone take that away from you.

You quickly fixed yourself when the door opened, followed by the loud clacking of someone's heels.

"Omg, are you crying?" Beverly gasped, rushing over to you.

You snickered, "No." you lied, "My eyes are itchy." you huffed out before noticing that Beverly was holding a sandwich in her hand.

"Why did you bring your sandwich here?" you curiously asked.

Beverly shrugged, "The pantry's full and the other girls don't exactly seem to like me...so..."

You shook your head and sighed, "Come with me, let's have lunch out. I need to get out of this fucking place anyway."

"Yay, omg! I knew you were nice! You're like, the only girl who actually talked to me nicely." Beverly said, tagging behind you as you exited the bathroom.

"Oh, there you are!" Mark called out. "I was looking for you. Wanna grab lunch? Oh...who's this?" he asked, noticing the blonde girl trailing behind you.

"I'm Beverly! I'm Sir James' new secretary." she introduced excitedly.

You sighed, "Don't ask me why." you said when Mark turned to you with a confused look, still not sure what happened to Bucky's previous secretary.

"So, lunch out? With Bev?" you asked.

You were completely zoning out during lunch despite the ongoing conversation between Mark and Bev, something about yoga? You honestly couldn't care less, not when you were feeling so conflicted about your current situation.

Would Bucky actually go that far just to get you back? Or does he actually hate you for saying no to him and is basically using his authority to make your life a living hell?

"So I heard about the new girl." Mark said, that snapped you out of your trance.

"Huh?" you asked.

"I find it weird for Mister Barnes to hire someone when you're here." Mark pointed out. "I mean, are you okay with that or..."

You snorted, "Fuck no. Look, I'm not gonna be the bigger person here. I was offended as fuck." you admitted.

"Yeah, it's super weird because she was hired through Tinder or something. Is that even legal?" Beverly pointed out as she scrolled through her phone.

You and Mark turned to her abruptly, "Tinder? Wait, what?" you asked.

Beverly chuckled, "I heard them talking this morning and Kenzie was like, 'It's so funny that we matched on Tinder and ended up doing business there you know' and I'm like omg Sir James has Tinder and I have one too but I never saw him there, bummer."

"Motherfucker." you hissed out.

Mark made a face, "Are you okay?" he carefully asked. "You've been really tensed since last week."

Apparently, Bucky never deleted his Tinder and have been swiping right on women. And that's how he met Mackenzie who just happened to be a marketing consultant. Now you were just furious, was he fucking her too? Has he been fucking other women this entire time?

"Hey, Bev..." you said, a plan hatching inside your mind. "Can I ask you a favor?" you asked nicely.

Beverly nodded, "Um duh, you're basically my office BFF now."

"If you ever hear Mister Barnes and Mackenzie talk about hmm, I don't know...something interesting. Maybe about the project...me 'cause you know, I'm the head of marketing and Mackenzie’s in the same field...let me know, will ya?" you asked.

Mark chuckled nervously, "I don't know what's going on but isn't that an invasion of privacy?"

"She's not going to eavesdrop, Mark. She'll just...listen closely." you explained.

"Bev might get in trouble if Mister Barnes finds out." Mark warned.

You waved a hand, "She'll be fine, Mark. She's his secretary, she has to know everything. Besides, I'm not going to let her get in trouble, if she does then I'll take care of it."

Beverly squealed in delight, "Omg, you are not my office BFF. You're like my office mom! You and Mark are literally my office parents." she said, lifting her phone up in the air.

"Selfie! This one goes to the 'gram." she said, taking a quick photo of the three of you.

She then proceeded to edit the photo while you and Mark continued eating lunch.

"Bev, you should really put your phone away and eat first. We have less than half an hour left for lunch break." Mark called out.

Beverly groaned and rolled her eyes, "Way to get into the role, Mark. You're such a dad."

You snorted, "Yeah. Loosen up, daddy." you teased.

"Playing family after just one date, huh."

Bucky's presence in the same restaurant should've really intimidated you, most especially that he just witnessed you tease Mark like that. But you were too mad at him to even care, what was the point even? He didn't believe you even when you told him the truth that Mark was just a friend.

Why even try now?

"Hi Sir James." Beverly greeted happily.

"Mister Barnes." Mark acknowledged.

Bucky ignored them and kept his eyes on you. You didn't falter under his gaze and simply stared back at him with blank eyes. It's as if a staring competition took place when the both of you merely looked at each other, neither of you looking away nor attempting to do so.

"How was that date last Friday, Jim?" Bucky asked, his eyes still trained on yours.

Mark made a funny face at the name that Bucky called him but shrugged anyway. Before he could even respond, you decided to answer on his behalf. If Bucky wanted to spite you, you'd give him a taste of his own medicine.

"It was actually great. We might go on another one this Friday." you said.

"We are?" Mark asked in a whisper.

Bucky's hand landed on Mark's shoulder, "Don't count on it, Andrew. She's going to be doing a lot of work on Friday due to the project." he said through gritted teeth.

You shrugged, "Oh, but I thought Mackenzie's doing all my work?"

"I'm ready to head back, Buck."

Speak of the devil herself. Mackenzie weaved through the tables and approached Bucky, her face brightening up when she saw you, Mark and Beverly.

"Oh, hey you." she greeted you. "Look, I think we may have started off on the wrong foot earlier. I'm not here to take your job, just here to spice things up a bit. Improve your ideas, give Bucky some assistance." she chuckled, holding onto Bucky's arm yet again.

You fought back the urge to grab your glass of water and throw it at her face. As the saying goes, kill them with kindness. So you merely shrugged and extended an arm for a handshake.

"Of course. I would love to improve your ideas as well, you know. Just a healthy discourse between two marketing professionals. We good?" you said.

Mackenzie forced out a chuckle and reached for your hand, "We’re good. I look forward to working with you." she said before turning back to Bucky who was still gazing at you.

"Let's go?" she asked sweetly.

Bucky smirked at you before wrapping an arm around Mackenzie's waist, guiding her out of the restaurant the same way he did to you. You were too focused on Bucky's body language around Mackenzie that you failed to notice that Mark was watching you closely, your expressions and how you reacted towards Bucky.

"I think I know what's happening."

"You what?!"

"Shhh!" you hushed Mark and peeked out of the empty pantry to make sure the coast was clear.

Mark noticed the tension between you and Bucky and he came to a conclusion that the both of you dated at one point. He wasn't really wrong but he wasn't right either. So you decided to tell him everything, from the moment you matched with Bucky on Tinder until your last conversation with him last Saturday.

"I honestly thought you were dating, I didn't know there was sex involved. No wonder he had been calling me weird names." he said incredulously. "Was that you and Mister Barnes that Janet reported to the HR?" he asked, stifling his laughter.

You groaned, "Yes. Ugh, gave me a panic attack when I found out about that incident report." you said.

"Hey..." Mark called out. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this. Your secret is safe with me." he reassured.

You nodded, "I think it was about time that I told someone about us anyway. This whole situation is driving me crazy and I don't know what to do next. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess, I shouldn't have said that we were going out again. I don't want you or your job getting compromised because of our petty fight." you exhaled.

You had to admit, you felt so much better now after confiding with Mark. It somewhat alleviated the weight on your shoulders, knowing that there was someone aware of what you were going through. Who would've thought that this person would end up being Mark? You did have friends outside of work of course, but you felt like they all wouldn't really understand the situation.

Half would hate you for rejecting Bucky and the other half would hate you for even swiping right on him.

"Do you mind an unsolicited advice?" Mark asked.

"Not at all." you said.

"Ignore him. Don't let him or Mackenzie get to you. Do what you do best, you're great at your job and you'll be fine. That might get him to realize that you're not a prize to be won. And if he still doesn't see that, then that's his loss. You're more than just that hot marketing girl at work." Mark said.

You laughed at his last statement, "Hot marketing girl at work?" you asked, shaking your head.

"It's true. So if in any case you decide to ditch the CEO and move on, you know where to find me." he joked, throwing a wink your way.

You wanted to finish all your reports so you could focus on the huge project so you decided to work until around nine in the evening. The floor was already empty by the time you were done. Bucky seemed to be working too, given that he was still replying to e-mails at this hour. Wanting to get all the reports over with, you decided to submit it to him before going home.

During the elevator ride to Bucky’s floor, you couldn’t help but wonder whether he was alone in the office. Would Mackenzie be there with him? Even at this hour? Your grip on the folder tightened at the thought of catching them in the act.

But did you have any right to feel this way though?

Brushing off the thoughts, you exhaled loudly and prepared yourself for whatever it was you were to witness. Upon reaching the door to Bucky’s office, you slightly turned your head to listen to anything. It was quiet. No hushed whispers nor strained grunts-- they weren’t fucking, thank goodness for that.

You decided not to knock and just walk inside like you used to, reminding yourself of Mark’s advice.

Don’t let Bucky get to you.

When you saw Bucky hunched over his desk, typing away on his e-mails instead of bending a certain brunette somewhere in his office, you had to admit that you were relieved. He looked up and his eyes looked dead tired, you almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“You should really learn how to knock.” Bucky called out, slamming his laptop shut.

“Look, Bucky. I was just rushing to submit these reports so I can go home.” you explained and placed the folder on top of his desk.

Bucky frowned, “I said to call me Mister Barnes.”

You huffed out, “I honestly don’t care, Bucky. I’m not playing your damn games anymore.” you said and turned around.

A hand on your arm pulled you back, harshly turning you around to face Bucky. He was fuming, as usual. At this point, you were no longer fazed.

“You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?” he asked.

You clenched your jaw and pulled your arm back, “I’m not doing anything. You bring in Beverly or Mackenzie or whoever it is that you have up your sleeve. I don’t fucking care. I just want to focus on work.” you said and stepped away.

“And you should too, Bucky.” you added.

“I don’t believe you.” he said.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping from exhaustion at this whole shenanigan. “I’m done, Bucky.”

And with that you turned around to exit his office, leaving Bucky unsure whether you truly meant what you said. A victorious smirk graced your lips as you walked back to the elevator.

You were far from done.

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag @weird-mumbling @propertyofpoeandbucky @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @mostly-marvel-musings @squishybabies @megzdoodle @suchababie @annathesillyfriend @xhollycowx @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @5-seconds-of-mendes @gogolucky13 @countonthesun @iloveshawnieboi @learisa @borikenlove @scarlet-natasha89

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @im-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @whoth3hellisbucky

#bbb writes #the match #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #fem!reader #sebastian stan

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odetojeons · 4 years

Text

Until It Feels Like You’re In Heaven — Jeon Wonwoo

request: Hello do you still take requests? Your writing is amazingggg!! Thank you for existing 😭💕. Can i req a whipped dom!wonwoo x fem reader where he has a size kink and a smol gf please? I think that will be a cute concept 🥺

tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!wonwoo, size kink, tattoed and pierced jeon wonwoo just because, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (uh idk why but I never write sex with a condom help), established wonwoo x reader, a tiiiny bit of spitting kink, very light verbal humiliation, aftercare, this goes from fluff to horny really quickly, fluff if you squint (or not?), a frankly unrealistic amount of cum, OH AND, stomach bulge 🥴

a/n: so haha I am back? with more filth? I tried adding fluff (even tho I completely forgot that the person who made the request asked for whipped wonwoo, good thing this is always in my agenda every time I write so I didn't have any problems lmfao) but I'm too much of a horny bitch and a simp for this man so,, idk? tell me what you think later! I hope you all perish— I mean, like this!

Word Count: 7826

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Aren’t you going to help?” you question, lifting a brow at your boyfriend, who’s currently sitting in one of the chairs and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand, plate of onions that should be already cut laying untouched in front of him.

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“Nope,” Wonwoo answers, giving you that kind of smile which makes you almost, almost feel less annoyed at the fact that you’ve been trying to reach something in the upper shelves for the last five minutes and he doesn’t move his ass to help you at all. “You’re just too cute trying to reach something.”

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There’s heat creeping up your neck, cheeks tinting red, and Wonwoo's smile gets bigger, shining and full of fondness. It leaves you stunned in silence for a while. It’s hard not to be in love with him. But it’s not like you try anyways.

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“J-just hurry up, aren’t you hungry?” you cough, looking away solely because you can’t stand the warmness in Wonwoo’s face without feeling like you’re going to combust any time soon.

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“I am. I can help you out,” he states simply, but doesn’t make a move. You gesticulate with your hand, pointing at him and at the rice jar in the upper shelf. “But only if you say please, though.”

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“I’m—” laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Would you please get the rice jar for me, sir?”

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Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long, eyes a bit dark, and gets up to get the jar, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively make yourself smaller when his bigger and broader frame hovers over you, large enough to swallow your tiny body. The size difference has always been something you both feel incredibly turned on by.

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“So small,” he appreciates, always does, and your neck burns from the intensity of your blushing. “The cutest.”

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Wonwoo puts the rice jar in your hands, the darkness in his face melting into a beam.

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“Here it goes, little girl,” he says, going back to his chair to complete the task which he has been doing for at least ten minutes now. The way he says little girl has you dumbfounded, heart hammering against your chest. “Are you just going to stand there? Do you like being called little that much?”

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“Shut up,” you admonish, blushing furiously as you turn on your back to continue what you were doing. You just hate how everything Wonwoo does affects you so much. You’re sure this must be bad for your health.

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The two of you continue your journey through cooking and eating after you’re both done with the preparations. Things with Wonwoo are always so easy, everything feels natural and domestic and the bubbling feeling of happiness you feel whenever you’re with him lulls you to fall in love with him even deeper than before.

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The way he teases you when you’re clumsy and spill sauce over yourself, but still cleans you up with the most fond smile ever, like you’re so completely adorable he can’t help himself. Or when you put more salt in the food than you should and you know it’s not that good, but he still compliments it and tells you he loves it so much, the sincerity in his eyes makes a surge of something pull at your lower stomach.

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If Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the love of your life, you don’t know who is.

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But right now you just want the ground to eat you alive and swallow you whole, because you’re standing right in front of the bed. The one bed. To which it suddenly doesn’t look big enough, not as you remember.

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Well, it’s not like you have never shared a bed before, you have even had a shit ton of sex in this exact piece of mattress, but the thing is, it’s been a while since you last saw Wonwoo. His job required him to spend three months away, and this is the first time you came to his house ever since he came back two days ago.

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You consider throwing yourself out of the window and into the dark, miserable night, thinks your poor heart will explode otherwise.

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“I’m not going to eat you.” Wonwoo’s voice carries over from the bathroom door, startling you into action. You jerk toward the bed, jumping on it and face flushing. You had showered before him, now dressed with one of his big shirts.

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It fell all the way to your mid thigh, the size difference between the two of you making you almost drown on the fabric of his clothes. It smells nice, smells like Wonwoo, and your cheeks burn when he drinks the sight of you in with dark eyes, not even trying to hide.

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“Unless you want me to,” he adds, not helping your situation at all.

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BSHANDJAJSND?, your brain supplies.

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“Oh my god,” you admonish, yanking the blanket off the bed and just as you get in, your eyes hone in on the ink swirling up Wonwoo’s right biceps. You have seen the tattoo through the pictures he sent you before, the snake crawling up to his shoulder, head stopping at his right chest.

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This is, however, the first time you’ve seen the metal bar through one of Wonwoo’s nipples — to which you already knew the existence of, but looking in person is totally different —, heat winding in the pit of your belly as you realize the snake is looking right at that same nipple. Unfortunately for your poor heart, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, hanging low on his hips, slim waist on display.

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Wonwoo is… hot.

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There’s no other way to put it despite your best efforts. He looks like one of those Greek statues, rippling muscle and hand carved abs, the cut of his jaw too sharp to be real. Your mouth waters and you can’t look away.

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And Wonwoo has been changing. He always had the thin type of body, being slim and tall, but in the end of last year he started exchanging the lazy hours he spent gaming with animated workouts at the gym — something about the way he was wasting his precious time of life and he could be acquiring knowledge and being healthy instead of sitting in front of a computer for hours —, and holy fuck if the result wasn’t quite the damn view.

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You draw the blanket right up to your chin, back very purposefully to Wonwoo’s side of the bed as you’re still trying to stop the mild heart attack you have going on. You don’t want to see him climbing into bed for safety purposes but that doesn’t mean your heart rate doesn’t spike up when the bed dips. When Wonwoo settles down under the same blanket, your brain very enthusiastically — and meaningfully — points out that you’re only a few centimeters away and that there’s nothing separating you.

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His abs flash behind your eyes and you nearly throw the blanket off, ready to storm out of the room and sleep on the sofa instead. You let out a breath you don’t even know you’re holding when Wonwoo flicks the flight off, the room disappearing into darkness, before he turns on the red leds from under his bed.

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You feel warm all over with the fact that he still remembers you don’t like sleeping in complete darkness.

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You try not to tense too much when he drapes an arm around your waist, locking you in. Your legs tangle together as he adjusts himself better, the other arm coming behind your head to serve as a pillow. Now you’re not only dying from the closeness but as well essentially drooling over the bulge of his thick biceps.

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Congratulations universe for managing to make you even more desperate.

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You’re not sure how long you just lie there, staring out the window, unable to fall asleep. Your brain doesn’t want to shut off, a blaring alarm of Jeon Wonwoo going off in your head.

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“I missed you so much,” Wonwoo says as if he read your thoughts, voice soft and filled with warmth, and you find yourself immediately melting in his arms despite your nervousness. “Thought I was going crazy without you, munchkin.”

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There’s a hard squeeze in your heart. You just love so much when he calls you that.

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“Missed you too,” you admit with a smile, the tip of Wonwoo’s nose dragging through your hair as he inhales the smell of his own shampoo. “Missed your smell.”

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“Just my smell?” Wonwoo teases with a light tone, caressing his free hand on your inner thigh. It was supposed to be a feather-like gesture, but the closeness between the two of you made your body oversensitive, and you find yourself moaning softly as your skin rocks with a shiver.

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Wonwoo tenses immediately when he hears the sound, hand stuttering to a stop. There’s a beat of what you call the most painful silence you ever had — your mind swirls with the thought that you just ruined the mood, face heating up uncontrollably at your own neediness —, before his fingers sink into the flesh of your inner thigh, startling you with the strength behind his grip.

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“Answer me.”

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You whine louder this time, the realization of his change of tone going from fond to an irrevocable order sinking wanton deep within your lower stomach. You try to close your legs, but Wonwoo’s leg stops you where it rests right in the middle of them, dangerously close to your throbbing core. You wonder if he could feel the heat emanating from it.

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“N-no,” you begin, voice already shaken up. Wonwoo’s breath caresses the helix of your ear, making goosebumps surge all over your skin. “Missed y-your bed too.”

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“Is that so?” he hums, chest vibrating where it presses against your back. “What else, munchkin?”

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“Missed—” your voice gets caught up in your throat when he licks your helix, teeth pulling the lobe of your ear. The soft drag of his lips all over that place is making your job difficult. “M-missed all of you, hmmm.”

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Wonwoo hums again, pleased with your answer, and leans so close to you your body gets half pinned to the bed. This way his bigger frame completely engulfs your smaller one, the difference between your sizes getting even more overwhelming now that he��s bulked up.

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And you’re not the only one affected by it, because as soon as Wonwoo realizes how he almost swallows you up in this position, he downright moans right by your ear.

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“So fucking small,” he tells you appreciatevely, voice one octave lower as his fingers presses on your inner thigh harder. “Missed touching you.”

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There’s a shift in Wonwoo, his leg rising up between yours and stopping centimeters away from the heat of your cunt, and you can’t hold back the shiver, wants Wonwoo to press down there. When you attempt to slide Wonwoo’s hand up and off of you so then you could turn around, you’re met with a growl instead, Wonwoo bodily pinning you to the bed.

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“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and it makes you feel like you’re a prey just ready to be caught by the big, bad wolf. You whine softly at that thought, hand coming to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist reflexively.

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“Wonwoo,” is your answer, like that would explain everything. Wonwoo chuckles softly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

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“When we called and I saw your face,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to fuck you so bad.”

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Suddenly, you can’t remember how to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth on your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear. He nuzzles into the same spot, kisses lower and your heart shakes loud enough you think the neighbors might hear, hyperaware of every inch of your bodies touching.

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“I know I couldn’t, so I did it all from behind,” Wonwoo admits, sending your mind into a little haze. Of course he has been jerking off to the thought of you, but hearing him say it out loud has your panties getting soaked. “Sticking my dick in…”

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Wonwoo hasn’t stopped nuzzling you, in some kind of daze as he inhales your scent. There’s a hand on your hip now, holding you down, liquid heat pooling in your belly, spreading outward.

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“…and fucking you mercilessly…” he continues, voice getting deeper and rougher with each word, his breath labored. “…and watching you cum endlessly… I thought I would be fine just imagining it.”

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“W-Won—” you start, breathless, the sound of your own voice sounding so airy leaving you embarrassed. But then finally, finally he presses his thigh into your core, your hips immediately going down to rut hard against the muscle.

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“Fucking drenched,” Wonwoo snarls lowly when he feels the wetness of your soaked panties dirtying the fabric of his sweatpants.

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The sound makes you writhe on the bed, fists balling in the mattress.

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“But seeing you, so small…” the trace of Wonwoo’s hand in your skin is light, almost like a gentle whisper as it makes a burning path up, up, up until it stops by your neck, fingers closing softly around your throat. “Makes me want to rail you, carve the shape of my big cock inside your walls.”

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Wonwoo’s teeth sink into the skin just at the base of your neck. It’s hardly a bite, you know he could leave worse, but then Wonwoo laps at it afterwards, tender, surrenders you into moving your hips obscenely on his thigh. The way he says, knows his cock is big has heat licking your insides, and if it were anyone else saying the same thing you would be cringed, but there’s just something special about Jeon Wonwoo doing this that makes him look like the hottest man alive.

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“You’re addicting,” Wonwoo admits with a growl, the feeling of his touch turning possessive as he helps you ride his thigh better by a hand on your waist. “Once I get a taste I can’t stop myself from wanting more. Wanna have my way with you until you’re all mine.”

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Need seeps through your bones, body trembling as you try to scatter the air it has been knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo fits his cock in the curve of your ass.

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“Y-you’re hard,” you comment, as if it’s not obvious, but it has been so long since the last time you felt his bulge pressing against you that it makes you desperate. “You’re so hard.”

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“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Wonwoo questions, groaning when you sway your hips from side to side on his cock.

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“Can we…” you trail off, hiding your face in the pillow. “Y-you know?”

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“Nope, you gotta be more specific,” he says with a teasing smile, and you smack him in the arm. Wonwoo laughs before his voice gets serious. “Say it.”

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This switch of him turning on and off between a sweet boyfriend to the man who doms you never fails to give you a whiplash.

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“Can we— Can w-we fuck?” you ask shyly, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You have no idea why you are being this shy.

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“Hmm, it depends,” Wonwoo hums like he’s considering the options. You turn to look at him, mortified, but he only laughs at your indignation. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

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You blush furiously at the question, face turning to look away as you mumble a yes, but then Wonwoo’s grabbing at your jaw and yanking your head back in place until you’re staring right in the deepness of his eyes, the intensity of them stunting you into complete silence.

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“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders, leaving no room for arguments, and you nod your head quickly at that. “Out loud.”

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“Y-yes,” you hurry to obey, watching satisfaction curl all over his face. “‘M always a good girl.”

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“I don’t think so, munchkin,” Wonwoo grins, wicked and teasing, and you brace yourself for whatever is going to happen this night. “Sometimes you’re so desperate and impatient you can’t even wait for me before fucking yourself with those plastic toys of yours.”

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“Wonwoo,” and you’re unable to look away even when shame burns all over your body. “H-how did you—”

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“How did I know?” your sentence morphs into a moan when Wonwoo presses his thigh so hard against you cunt it has your body jumping a little. “You think I wouldn’t feel how you’re more loose when I fucked you? You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”

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Wonwoo is mercilessly dragging your hips up and down his leg, your whines sounding high and sweet in your own ears.

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“You’re oblivious even to yourself,” he tells you, tone rough as he ruts against your ass. Your heart lurches in your chest, Wonwoo’s words like a hot coal in the pit of your belly, erupting into flames. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, cunt pulsing with arousal. “Even today, the way you were staring at me…”

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But then, Wonwoo’s touch is gone. His hands leave your hips, thigh frees you from the pressure, and the warmth seems so far now. You turn, complaint already at the tip of your tongue, but Wonwoo’s faster, rougher as he manhandles you on your back and hovers over your body, caging you in with his arms.

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“You looked like a prey who has just been caught into the wolf’s den,” he smiles at you, wicked and cruel as he grabs your jaw and pushes your head back. “Like you wanted me to break you in until it feels like you’re in heaven.”

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There’s a breath against your bare neck, his groan hitting your skin when he bites it.

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“Or eat you up until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t belong to me,” you’re definitely not expecting the moan that escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, so affected and deep it’s got all the hairs in your nape standing up, every fiber of your body telling you to submit. “Fuck, and it turns me on so much.”

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You make a sound out of neediness, hands reaching for Wonwoo. He goes easily, body pressing into yours as he crashes your lips together. Wonwoo kisses you like he wants to conquer you, licking into the seam of your mouth and teeth scraping at your bottom lip just so he could soothe the pain later with his tongue. Your head spins with the intensity of it, it’s messy and there’s too much spit and teeth, but that only makes it even more addicting.

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But Wonwoo doesn’t kiss you enough today. He almost never does when he’s feeling like that — possessive, mean, wicked even, when he needs you to know your damn place —, wants to ebb the pleasure away when you’re starting to get hotter until it’s replaced by pure desperation and you can’t do anything else other than beg for him to give in to you.

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So that’s what you do, staring up at his eyes trained on you as if you’re a prey.⠀

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“Please,” you start, voice caught into a moan when Wonwoo’s fingers sink into your jaw and his mouth falls ajar, like the sound of you saying this particular word gives a physical stroke to his cock. “P-please, fuck me. Wanna— Wanna belong t-to you.”

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And that’s enough. That’s enough, that’s enough, Wonwoo wants, you want, and he’ll give that to you since he has always been a weak man for your begging. There’s a fraction of seconds that he thinks he might pass out with all the blood rushing from his head to his other head, cock throbbing in his sweatpants.

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“Don’t know how so much eagerness fits into this little body of yours,” Wonwoo murmurs against your mouth, his hand squeezing your face. You find yourself parting your mouth open, whining, pliant and overwhelmed as Wonwoo slips his tongue in again, kissing you filthy. The scent of his familiar cologne is so sharp, surrounding you and leaving your mind dazed until all you can think is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. When he pulls back this time, Wonwoo pushes his thumb into your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watches you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it further into your mouth.

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You moan around it, watching Wonwoo’s every reaction, the way his breath hitches, shoulders tensing. There’s a shift on the bed, Wonwoo moving up and up and up and you can’t breathe because now the bulge pressing against the fabric of his clothes is standing proudly right in front of your face, Wonwoo almost straddling your chest. You let the realization that he’s going to fuck your mouth sink deep within your core, and try not to show how deeply affected you are by the idea.

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You fail, of course, hips lifting off of the bed and falling down again, biting around the finger inside of your mouth that keeps you from taking a better look in the place you are dying to see.

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“That desperate to suck me off, baby?” Wonwoo asks, and you flush, hate how you love the humiliated burn, how it makes you wetter. You’re too embarrassed to throw something back at Wonwoo, gaze dropping to his erect cock the best you can. He pushes your head back up, making you look at him instead. “Do you wanna see it?”

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“I do,” you reply, a little too fast for your own good, and it only serves for Wonwoo to laugh at your neediness. You debate if you’re as red as you think you are, the burn in your cheeks spreading all the way down to your neck.

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“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Wonwoo’s tone is almost condescending, still playful, like he doesn’t think you can even handle the sight of his cock, and you like how it makes your cunt twitch and ache. It’s as if you enjoy the belittlement, enjoy the way Wonwoo wants you to prove yourself.

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“I’m,” you start, swallowing, “I’m ready.”

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Wonwoo’s smile is a touch dark, nearly a sneer, but his hand leaves your mouth to hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants. You nearly drool. He pulls on the fabric until his cock is free, slapping against your left cheek and smearing precum on your face. Your head spins, realising that even this part of Wonwoo’s body seemed to have grown bigger. Maybe it’s your imagination, haven’t actually seen it in real life for the past three months, but the thickness is intimidating.

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The best intimidating possible.

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Your heart thuds in your chest, unable to look away from his cock. There’s spit collecting on your tongue, embarrassment fighting against your desire to please. Leaning forward, you suckle the tip into your mouth, making a pleased sound when you taste the salty tang of precum.

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Wonwoo leans back a bit, wanting to assess your face better, and the taut lines of his body contorts in an even hotter way with the new position. You moan again, staring at the piercing in Wonwoo’s nipple and the head of the inked snake looking at it, and sucks on the head, tongue pushing along the underside. Your body throbs with your own heated desire.

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You wrap a hand around the base, gut twisting hotly when you realise you can’t even get your fingers all the way around — no matter how many times you notice this, they all make you feel equally needy. And you’re not the only one affected by it, Wonwoo’s hips kicking forward and cock thrusting inside of your mouth, the growl he lets out going straight to your core.

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“Fuck,” he says, breath audible enough to echo inside the room. “I will ruin you.”

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The confession has your body arching for a few seconds, sucking hard on the tip of Wonwoo’s cock until he’s moaning at the feeling. He takes a fistful of your hair, but you push against the hold so you could take more of it into your mouth.

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“Quit it,” Wonwoo demands, your displeased whine making his hold grow firmer. “Do as you’re told or you might not get my cock at all tonight.”

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He pulls you off, your pants loud and labored.

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“Did I make myself clear?”

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“Yes, sir,” you add just for the teasing — but mostly because you want Wonwoo to punish you for making him lose his beloved control —, feeling pleased as you watch the clear change of expressions going on in Wonwoo’s face. His eyes darken impossibly more, eyebrows frowning and then there’s a hand on your neck.

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Your mouth goes dry as soon as his fingers close around your throat, body writhing and mind going into submission mode.

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“Filthy little slut,” Wonwoo snarls, face suddenly close, and then he’s spitting into your open mouth and you feel like you will come very soon. You flinch, eyes shutting on reflex, and then moan. “Want me to punish you, don’t you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t say anything, can’t say anything, but you hope the look in your eyes answers his question. It probably does, because there’s a tiny little smirk playing on the edge of Wonwoo’s lips before he kisses you, softer than you could ever imagine he would be in this moment.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” he breathes, the sudden confession making a different kind of burn itch your throat. You know very well that when Wonwoo tells you that I’m the middle of sex then it’s because this will be a passionate fucking. One of those that he keeps your body so close you think you might become one with him, one of those he kisses you so gently one moment only to treat you roughly in the other, one of those he wants to make you fall apart, crumble and cry and even so, it will be full of love and care and sweetness. “I love you so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t need to, he knows your heart belongs to him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say ah for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo instructs and you obey, mouth hanging open, tongue out. Wonwoo slaps his cock against it, precum dirtying your tongue as the slap slap slap of his cock hitting your mouth fills the heavy air of the room. He even traces the tip over your upper lip, smearing precum along your cheek when he slaps your face with it before placing his cock right back on your waiting tongue. “Put this mouth to better use.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You do, eager to do as you’re told after Wonwoo’s confession, blood singing from his praise and his disparagement alike. You sink down onto it as far as you can take it, nearly gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Wonwoo drowns out a broken “fuck” above you, stroking your cheek and moving further in the bed to lessen the awkward twist of your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” Wonwoo breathes, voice strained as you suck him off, head bobbing. He brushes your hair back, little groans and growls escaping him every time his cock hits the back of your throat, you swallowing around it, or when you speed up, fucking your mouth on Wonwoo’s length. “Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush, heart hammering in your chest with the compliment, but he closes a fist in your hair and makes you stop all movements.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” Wonwoo starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. You know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. “until you gag.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan a bit uncontrollably around his cock, legs kicking in the bed at the affirmation, and Wonwoo is staring at you with a look you can’t quite describe. It makes you ashamed of being so eager but at the same time proud of being his little cockslut.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo holds you in place, hips bucking into your mouth. He goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling because it has been a while since the last time you sucked him off. It is short lived, as soon as you look up at him and nod — the best you could with your movements being kind of restricted —, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had Wonwoo’s fat cock in your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan, one of your hands still working up and down along Wonwoo’s shaft as he fucks into you, tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes. He falls a bit forward when you start gagging a little, throat convulsing around his thickness, and he sprawls his fingers in the wall for support.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck fuck fuck, shit,” Wonwoo breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. Tingles spark down your spine, wetness pouring out of you and soaking your panties even more and you want so desperately to come, to be fucked, but you want to please him first.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and then he’s pulling away. You look at him, mind in a haze, but still dumbfounded. His breath is labored and he looks like he’s having a hard time keeping together, hips thrusting into the air. It boosts your ego to see him this messed up because of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did so well for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. It seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. At the look you’re giving him, he adds: “Wanna cum with you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. Wonwoo caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. His fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by Wonwoo’s greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And then Wonwoo’s sucking. Hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It caughts you off guard, hips lifting off of the bed and thigh pressing tightly against Wonwoo’s cock, his groan being muffled by your skin. He bites, suckles and kisses the particular spot underneath your jaw, so far up your neck you won’t be able to hide it, especially because it’s summer. And you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it’s throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked. It leaves you breathless, not having time to recover when Wonwoo pulls your shirt up until he can get one nipple into his mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwon, fuck,” you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, and Wonwoo growls at the nickname, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he’s telling you how much this affects him. “Please—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you’re sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. Wonwoo busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Down and down, his fingers then slips inside your penties, brushing across your clit so lightly that it has your whole body rocking with shivers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s body goes completely still. You feel him tensing under your palms, heat already flooding your face when you know he feels it, feels the way you’re already stretched open for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You—” he starts but stops himself, pushing a finger inside for great measure. Wonwoo growls when he meets almost no resistance, face lifting from where it rests on your chest to look at you. “When?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The intensity of his voice leaves your mouth dry.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“E-earlier, in the— in the s-shower,” you confess, voice quiet, and you can’t look away, Wonwoo’s eyes pinning you to your spot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hah,” he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. Wonwoo pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. You moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. “Acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He gyrates his hand, pushing hard and without mercy, right before he adds another finger, this time more slowly. It burns a little, his fingers way bigger than yours, but you love the slight pain.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come into my house knowing I would fuck you?” Wonwoo asks, knows the answers but does it anyway. He moves his hand a little, waiting for your to be more comfortable with the sensation of his fingers, but as soon as your frown turns upside down, Wonwoo has no restrains whatsoever, fucking into you fast and sharp. “Fingered yourself knowing that I would split you open on my big cock?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but Wonwoo holds your waist with his free hand and pins them down hard. Your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can’t stop the loud moans slipping through your lips, doesn’t even care about the neighbors as your nails sink into Wonwoo’s back to the point it might leave tiny crescent moons all over it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come back then?” Wonwoo continues, pace unforgiving even when tears well up into your eyes. He trusts you to use your safeword if needed as much as you trust him to use his. “Did you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You struggle to answer, voice being surrendered to moans and whines and whimpers and it’s hard to focus when he’s hitting your sweet spot with the tip of his fingers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah! Ah, hmmm, f-fuck, please Won— Wonwon,” you try, can’t even understand how you still manage to get red when you realise Wonwoo is looking at you with so much desire. The point you both most like about your relationship is that Wonwoo is the dom, but he knows you have him in the palm of your tiny hands. “I, ah, d-din’t. Di— Didn’t want to, fuck, please— c-come without you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out at that, your cunt clenching around nothing as he goes lighting fast to take both of your clothes off, grab your waist and flip you on your stomach just as he reaches for the nightstand to grab what you know very well it’s a bottle of lube. He pulls your hips up until you’re face down, ass up on the bed, the hurry in all of this only sending desperation all over your body, and the sound of the cap being opened has butterflies in your stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Fuck,” Wonwoo sounds a mess, fingers hurrying to close a fist on his cock and jerk it off furiously to spread the lube better, the wet head nudging against your rim. “Fuck, shit, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Do it,” you beg. “Please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And who is he to deny what you want?

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pushes inside you slowly despite his hunger, knows he’s big and there’s an alarming size difference between the both of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands clench into fists and it feels like you’re being impaled onto Wonwoo’s cock, going deeper than any cock you ever taken before. Tears cling to your lashes as a small jolt of pain runs up your spine, the lube easing Wonwoo’s way in. Overall you’re proud of yourself, haven taken him before, more times than you can count, and you accommodate his cock like a pro.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your chest heaves, no amount of air feels like enough as Wonwoo’s cock all but punches everything out of you. You’re biting at the pillow by the time the last of it pushes into you, a haze surrounding your mind because it feels so good.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s groan transforms into a moan once he’s buried all the way into you, hips flush against your ass and spreading you open so wide and so deep, you would think you might break if you didn’t know any better. You gasp, back arching downward as you take your time to adjust to the large intrusion.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses your shoulder tenderly, waiting for you to grow used to the feeling. He can be rough when it comes to bed, but he always is mindful of you no matter how impatient and desperate he is. There’s this soft feeling going on inside you, mixing with your pleasure and it only serves to make you more needy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, hot breath falling against your neck as he stands behind you. You feel surrounded — his scent everywhere, the pulse of the hickeys he carved on your skin, the press of his long fingers on your waist —, your submission for Wonwoo’s eyes only.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You nod at him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

A lick at your neck is all the warning you get before Wonwoo pulls out so very slowly, cock dragging against your walls and rim. It feels like forever, you whining at the sensation, and then you’re being slammed back into.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah!” you gasp, eyes blurry as you struggle for air. You moan as Wonwoo drags himself back out again, and thrusts right back in and groans at the feeling. “Y-yes—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So good,” Wonwoo growls, close to inhumane as he continues with that pace. “So fucking good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Eventually, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be able to go slow anymore, thrusts turning sharper and harder, his pace unrelenting. You find yourself almost screaming through it, so overwhelmed by the size of him — a good overwhelmed, the best overwhelmed —, but the way you feel so full and the exponential pleasure leaves you numb to any other thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo, your mind seems to chant, fucked open mercilessly by your boyfriend.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Taking cock like a pro, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Wonwoo says, stops for a second, adjusts his hips, and then slams back right into your sweet spot, like he knows where it is by heart. Your body lurches forward, bed slamming against the wall. Hands reaching to hold onto something, you scramble against the sheats until one of them fists it and the other holds the pillow for dear life. “You’re gonna wake the whole hall, screaming like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You have enough of a decency to feel ashamed about it, but it’s not like neither of you actually care. If anything, Wonwoo fucks you harder, hips jamming inside you until your throat hurts from all the noises you’re making.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please, p-please— I wanna— I h-have to— Fuck, ah!” you’re not even sure about what you’re begging for, Wonwoo pulling your hips to meet his thrusts half way. You love this, feeling like a ragdoll, being thrown around and only able to take what he gives to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Good little girl,” Wonwoo croons, his voice rough. Your skin glistens with sweat, the shimmering red light reflecting on it. “Looking so beautiful taking my cock.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure what compels you after he says that but you reach down, hand smoothing down your abdomen because you feel like Wonwoo is spearing you open. But you go completely tense, squeezing Wonwoo so hard he stutters with a moan, because under your palm there is the outline of his cock protruding against your lower belly. The feeling makes you so overwhelmed that you can’t hold it in, whithe pleasure flooding you as you end up coming, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you’re crying all the way through it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re coming?” Wonwoo deadpans, sounding surprised and angry at the same time. “Holy shit, you’re coming untouched and without my permission? What were you think—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s complaint immediately dies down when you bring a trembling hand to grab his wrist and put his fingers in the cause of your orgasm. There’s a beat of silence, the both of you completely still, and then Wonwoo is growling the most animalistic growl you ever heard him do, the sheer intensity of it rocking all the way to your bones. He presses his hips so tightly into yours it has you sobbing.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” it’s all he says, tone two octaves lower and sounding dangerous, doesn’t even have it in him to punish you. “Fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s like the caged beast he keeps so carefully locked deep within himself started to surface. Wonwoo pushes your head down on the mattress, the other hand still on your belly. He pulls out until the tip and then slams back inside, as hard as he can, and you downright scream at the feeling, the oversensitiviness adding up to your pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s another few seconds of silence, and then Wonwoo is fucking you brutally. His moans echo through the room, so completely desperate that it has you wailing, sobbing, crying desperate pleas for more.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at that,” Wonwoo says, hand pressing harder against the bulge in your stomach. “Pushed my big cock into you until your insides were forced to make room for it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He grabs your arm and yanks you up, your back pressing against his chest and an arm circling around your waist. The other comes up to squeeze your left breast as you practically sit on his thighs. You moan at the feeling of his pierced nipple dragging against your skin every time he fucks up into you, your body only held in place because of the firm grip Wonwoo has on you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Sobbing, you feel like you’re losing yourself in the sensations, Wonwoo’s cock pounding into your cunt and his voice by your ear and the burn of his hips hitting your ass — by now it must be all red, the marks probably going to linger for some time. You can’t hold yourself together anymore, mouth open and drooling, tears clinging to your lashes, staccato moans falling from your lips that break on every thrust. You’re limp against Wonwoo, can’t even fuck back, letting him have his way with you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Drooling all over yourself for my cock,” Wonwoo says, fucks in deep against your sweet spot and mouths at the side of your neck. “Because of me, right? Tell me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you— yours, yours, please,” your head falls back on his shoulder, hand pressing tightly in the shape of his cock in your stomach, and at this point you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’ve broken you in, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And he did, really. He has broken you in, has you crying on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You belong to who?” Wonwoo pressed his hips flush on your ass, grinds hard enough for your body to be sent forward. A short few seconds so you can take a breath — or at least try to. “Hm? Who’s fucking you this good?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, Wonwon, you, please,” you cry out as he starts to fuck you mercilessly again, the brutal pace punching moans out of you. “Ah, ah, ah, p-please, haaah, I’m y-yours— yours, b-belong to, hmmm, to you only, please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echoes, thrusts turning erratic and groans morphing into moans. “Mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I can’t — I’m g-gonna—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come for me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And it’s enough for you. Your muscles tense, toes curling as hot, white pleasure surges through your body and floods you until you fall limp on the bed, hips only up because Wonwoo is holding them tightly. You clench around his cock involuntarily, his groan muffled by your hair and he’s coming, Wonwoo’s cock twitching inside you as thick spurts of come fill you to the brim. They seem to be endless, his spunk filling you up until it’s dripping out and down your thighs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t remember much of what happens later. Your mind spins and then you fall into a most needed slumber.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wake up a bit disoriented, having no idea how much has passed since you fell asleep, but you realise you’re all cleaned up and dressed, head resting in Wonwoo’s — thankfully, for the sake of your precious pussy — clothed chest as he uses his cellphone. He smells clean too, hair still a little bit wet, and you smile thinking that the shower you both took before going to bed was useless.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re up?” comes Wonwoo’s question when he feels your lips moving against him, placing his phone somewhere on the bed and circling his arms around you. You move your head, looking up at him with fondness.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, baby,” you breathe out, reaching to peck him in the lips once. He smiles, that kind of smile that leaves you breathless with love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, my love,” Wonwoo laughs when you blush at the pet name. It’s so sweet and endearing, you always feel warm whenever he says it. “I see you still get all red when I call you that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you swat at his arm, Wonwoo’s following laugh sounding like the best music you ever heard. “How much did I sleep?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Not much,” he presses you tighter against him. “I think one hour? Something like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you say, legs tangling with his and the smile never leaving your lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course, my love. Always will take care of you,” Wonwoo nuzzles your hair and inhales. “Got kind of surprised that I managed to fuck you into unconsciousness.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you mortify with a laugh, hitting his chest, but he only giggles at you. He giggles. Your heart might explode soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What? Can’t I be happy that I pleasured my tiny girlfriend the way she deserves to?” Wonwoo says, and it sounds like a joke, but when you look up at him again to make a retort, the reverence in his eyes surrenders you speechless.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He stares at you with so much admiration and love, like you’re the most beautiful thing ever.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” you say instead, cheeks hurting from the way you’re smiling, and Wonwoo seems to be caught off guard because he’s blushing. Wonwoo’s blushing. He’s so cute you want to die.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up and go back to sleep,” he coughs, pushing your head against his chest and you laugh at this shyness. “I love you too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Yes. The warmness of his hands, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the love in his eyes, the sweetness of his words — you missed everything about Jeon Wonwoo.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

3K notes · View notes

itjazzbicch · 3 years

Text

No Self Control

Pairing: Daniel Garcia x Fem Reader

Summary: Always being teased by her fellow members of Team Taz, she decides to go after her deepest desires when she comes across her love interest, Daniel, in the club; neither of them having any self control when their moment sparks...

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY!) (I just wanted to be real dirty yall lmfao)

(Also my first time writing for Daniel so I hope I did well!)

Requested by: No one (But I hope you all enjoy it!)

Word Count: 1443

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @jessiebean00 @new-zealand-chic @crowleysqueenofhell @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpal @hungmanhorsecarriage @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @whenimakeitshine1234

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF:

My eyes couldn’t help but light up when I heard that swooning whistle that was like music to my ears. It made my knees weak and my face hot every time I heard it, eyes full of desire when Daniel walked past my table at the party, looking down at my dress and winking.

“Ooo,” Ricky whistled, sipping his drink; Hook having to add:

“Who you smiling at like that?”

“Smiling like what?” I tried to play off, but failed miserably.

“You act like we don’t know,” Ricky sighed, laughing at me.

Those two were like brothers to me, but ever since I started talking to Daniel, they either teased me or went into brother mode.

“You know, I’m always stuck with you two,” I noted, taking my drink and flipping my hair, “I’m going to hang with my girls.”

This club was really going, all of the girls out on the dance floor. I finished my drink first because with everyone on the floor, it was bound to be spilled. They knew how to put me in just the right mood to dance, the music flooding my ears and my brain absorbed every sound, taking control of me.

“About damn time you got out here!” Penelope smiled, taking my hand and guiding me to all of us girls on the dance floor, “Looks like you got eyes on you already.”

Even through a crowd of people, I could find Daniel’s eyes. I didn’t even make a move and he was watching with a smirk, waiting for more and I gladly gave that to him.

Penelope had already read my mind, twirling me around and giving me the little push I needed. The music flooded me all over again, my girls and I not afraid to dance, grinding with one another, truly having a fun time.

I ended up so lost in the music, confused with Penelope’s eyes popped with excitement, turning me around and when I felt familiar hands, I knew.

“Hope you saved some for me,” Daniel whispered in my ear, taking me away a bit while we swayed to the music.

His eyes were so alluring, the smirk on his face when I turned actually making my knees weak, but I matched his vibes, feeling how his fingers pressed deeper into my hips when I circled my hips nice and slow, grinding back into him, smiling:

“Think I’d give them my best when you’re here?”

“Your best, huh?” He smirked, licking his lower lip, “So nice of you to save it for me.”

“Wouldn’t want to give it to anyone else,” I turned to whisper back to him, a lush smile on my face while watching his reaction to my hips going round and round, able to feel is bulge grow with every touch and grind.

With smiles, we actually danced a little, but the temptations were vigorous, his hand sliding down to my inner thigh and keeping me against him; the only space between us being the arch of my back, his hands taking strong grips with a slight tremble.

“If you want a little more, all you have to do ask,” I giggled, a whisper past his ear, “Your hands are doing a lot of talking for you.”

“Actions speak louder than words,” He nibbled along my ear, “Just have this feeling that you’re going to say yes.”

Given the surroundings, I was able to blend in with all of the dancing, turning around and palming his hard on, smiling:

“Feeling all that, damn right yes is the answer.”

He knew how to blend in as well, but still bold and brave, a hand under my dress, squish my ass while his lips steamed against mine, “If we get off this dance floor, you can have an even better feel.”

“What are we waiting for then?” I giggled, informing when I felt him take another handful, “And I’m not wearing panties if you want to keep feeling.”

Given the invitation, his hand slid just a bit further, finger running through my folds and getting slicked, a soft bite capturing my lip and pulling a slight moan from me while it pushed into me slowly, the curling of his finger and a slight pump revealing the friction.

I could feel how he was fighting more urges, knowing we couldn’t do it right then and there. Nothing but dirty thoughts beaming through his eyes when he slipped out, keeping my hand while we snuck off of the dance floor.

Private dance room

Privacy was exactly what we need and despite that being a hands-off in the club, Daniel gladly made it ours, rushing in and locking the door.

“Are we even allowed in here?” I laughed and immediately got hit with heat, watching Daniel throw off his shirt and growl against my lips:

“Does it look like I give a fuck right now?”

I quickly shook my head, cupping his face and kissing hard, “But I know a fuck I do want to give right now.”

“I’m giving it to you,” He chuckled, quickly unbuttoning his pants, “You were tight around just my finger, let alone all this.”

“Ain’t my fault you keep turning me on,” I snickered, looking down and feeling his cock for myself, my hand having more than enough to explore and learn, “Now, you gonna give it to me or do I just have to use my hand?”

I got in a few quick strokes, still able to see able to see the heat in his face with the red neon lights against it, the salacity in his eyes beaming back into my gaze.

“You’re taking all of it,” He grinned, sending me back with giggles when he took my ankles and threw my legs up, giggles fading and converting into shrill; Daniel having the turn to laugh when I realized that was only half of his cock, the next shrill even louder when his hips smacked mine, “Every damn inch.”

The impact hit my stomach already, whimpering and enjoying it, squeezing him and able to feel every inch slide back down:

“Ooo, oh my god.”

“Squeezing the fuck out of me, Y/N,” He smiled, pushing my legs further away, hips putting immense amounts of power in every thrust, the chain straps of my chest falling, steaming skin unfamiliar to the coldness, making a breath seize on my chest, choking on moans.

“D-Daniel-l,” I choked, whining hard at his cock hitting every sensitive bump up to my deepest point, massive pressure smacking my clit, able to grab the back of his neck and pull him to a kiss, “I don’t think we’ll be able to stop with you fucking me this good.”

“I know how to lay it down, baby,” He was proud of, eyes turning to see one of my heels pop off, smiling against the moans hitting his lips, “Have fun trying to walk in those later.”

“I don’t care,” I cried, head dropping back when he pushed my legs forward, a pinch in my lower core, “I’m only worried about one thing right now!”

“What’s that, hm?” He toyed, knees hooking onto his shoulders, kisses leading to nips at my jaw and down my neck, hands taking a base on the back of the lounge booth, “Should’ve known the moment you put that ass on me that I’d end up fucking you like this.”

“Mhm!” I whined, gasping at my walls pulsating around him, all of the skin to skin more sensitive and hot, the coil that held my orgasm ready to snap, “I knew you’d be so fucking good!”

Momentarily he looked down, a proud chuckle along with our kiss while he kept pounding his hips into mine, giving almost no space, pointing out, “Got me trapped down here. Gonna cum already?”

I nodded quickly, words failing to form and turning into babbles, becoming harder to breathe, closing my eyes tight to try and focus, but seeing stars and white dots flying everywhere, that coil splitting like fragile hairs.

“I’m cuming, Danny!” That’s all I could get out before my mind was spent spiraling, nothing but moans flying when my hips jerked and I came undone, high off of the feeling.

“Got damn, baby,” He huffed, keeping my knees pinned against the couch, getting the last series of thrusts he had left in him, vision going from black to red and fixing on his face, a little worn, but still as sexy as usual.

“I never liked being impatient so much,” I cooed, smiling as I was given a kiss:

“I just can’t control myself around you.”

#wrestling #wrestling imagine #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #wrestling oneshot #aew #aew imagine #aew fic #aew smut #aew oneshot #daniel garcia #daniel garcia x reader #daniel garcia imagine #daniel garcia fic #daniel garcia smut #daniel garcia oneshot #read and enjoy

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drawlfoy · 3 years

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detention retention finale p.2 (the real finale!)

masterlist (catch up on parts 1, 2, and the first half of the finale here!)

request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no my original idea

summary: gryffindor and friend of the golden trio y/n y/l/n is tasked with getting close to malfoy to learn his secret in 6th year. things quickly become more complicated.

warnings: (please pay attention this time around) nsfw content, implied sex, swearing, character death. however, if you are sensitive to gore know that this one is a lot less graphic than the first half of the finale

a/n: wow. here we are! this part is going to be considerably more light hearted than the first part. ngl while writing this i reread my 8th grade diary when i spent hours overanalyzing what my crushes did/said and i kind of wanted to emulate that school crush feeling of “does he like me does he not”. if this seems like a weird turn considering how dark things were in the last chapter, i’m sorry i just really wanted to give poor draco and y/n a break fdajkfls. i hope you guys like it :)

word count: 16.1k (the longest part of them all...lmfao)

tags! @sycathorn-slush @writeandtranslate @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @yiamalfoy @crystalox @dracoismybabey @dreamcxtcherr @decaffeinated-turtle @marrymetheonott @felicityofbakerstreet @daedreamss

here’s a spotify playlist i made for this!

enjoy!

Back at the Gryffindor tower, she was met with a surprise: Ron, sitting cross-legged on her bed, paging through a random Quidditch catalog he stole from Fred.

“Hi, Ron,” greeted Y/N tentatively. Despite the fact that Harry and Hermione had both been outwardly stand-offish towards her, Ron had, for the most part, remained neutral. “What’s up?”

He jerked his head upwards, his eyes wide. “Sorry, er, you scared me. Hey, Y/N.” Ron awkwardly waved.

“Is something...going on?”

“Oh.” He uncrossed his legs and sat up straight, his thumbs twiddling together in his lap. “I just wanted to, erm, have a chat with you. I know Hermione and Harry are a little angry with you still, but I miss you. And I don’t think they’re right in doing this to you.”

Y/N allowed her shoulders to sag in relief as she joined him, letting the bed sink under both of their weight. “I understand why they’re upset. I just felt so bad, you know. Drac--Malfoy is going through a lot right now, and even though he’s been a prat to you guys, all of a sudden it was like I would be a horrible person to ignore what’s been going on with him.”

“Harry and Hermione think it’s because you’re a pureblood,” Ron said. “That’s mostly why I came to talk to you. Harry said something before the day in the bathroom about how he wasn’t surprised ‘your kind’ was so quick to turn on us.”

“Does he not know that you’re literally a--”

“Exactly.” A nervous laugh left Ron’s lips. “I mentioned that, and I think he realized how messed up that line of thought was. Anyways, he feels proper terrible about hurting you the way he did. I think you’ll have to wait around a bit before he swallows his pride and apologizes to you himself, but he hasn’t been the same since what happened before the break.”

“Wow.” Y/N allowed that thought to sink in. “And...Hermione?”

“She’s still hurt,” admitted Ron. “Can you blame her, though? One of her best friends starts messing around with her childhood bully?”

She winced. “I know, I know. Believe me, I know. But we’re not...like that.”

“I think you should try talking to her again. I’m not sure why you’re so insistent on keeping a promise to Malfoy, but nothing’s going to change unless you tell her why you did what you did.”

“Thanks, Ron.” Y/N reached out to lay her hand on his shoulder. “Also, I don’t want to be gossipy or anything, but I think you should leave Lavender for Hermione.”

Ron balked. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s just an idea,” said Y/N, shrugging. “I just have a feeling you two would be really cute together. I dunno what it is. Just an inkling of a thought.”

“I would never leave Lavender,” he said, frowning as his eyes hazed over. “I would never do that…”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Y/N smirked, elbowing him in the side. He grinned at her, the dimples easily forming in the freckled skin of his cheek.

“Shut up, Y/N.”

Hermione Granger was not a difficult witch to locate. All Y/N had to do was wait until prime studying hours before searching the library’s long halls until she found the bushy head of hair craned intently over a large textbook.

“Hermione.”

At her voice, Hermione snapped to attention, a sour expression forming on her face. “What do you want?” She didn’t even wait for a response, dipping her head back down and continuing to take notes.

“I want to apologize, properly, for what happened,” Y/N said, settling into the seat across from her and dropping her voice. “I know I didn’t give you a very good explanation about what was going on, and I know I wasn’t completely honest with you.”

“I’m not interested in hearing what you have to say right now, Y/L/N.”

She brushed off the pain of her last name being used instead of her given name and continued. “I know you must be really hurt that I got close with Malfoy, especially considering how cruel he was to you.”

Hermione remained silent.

“I know that I’ll never understand how it feels to be an outsider in this world,” she said. “I’m sorry that I can’t change what happened in the past. You’re allowed to be as angry as you want with me. Believe me when I say that I never meant to lie to or to deceive you. You had to have noticed how different Malfoy looks. He needed someone, and I was there. He might not deserve that kind of treatment, especially not from you, but it would’ve been wrong of me to just let him suffer on his own.”

Hermione finally met her eyes, a few tears shining in the deep brown depths of her stare. “I don’t understand how you could overlook all the things he’s said about me. Is...that what you think of me, too?”

“Of course not, Hermione,” exclaimed Y/N. The angry shh from the table over made her drop her voice once again. “You’re twice as capable as my entire bloodline combined. You have every right to be part of this world. You are part of this world and you always have been. If I thought that Draco hadn’t changed, I wouldn’t have become friends with him.”

“You call him Draco now?”

“He’s my friend. And I think that if things were a little different, he’d actually defect from his family’s beliefs and join our side. Living firsthand in the close proximity of Death Eaters really took a toll on him.”

Hermione chewed her lip. “This is really hard. I don’t know what to say.”

“I miss you,” confessed Y/N. “And, to be honest, I felt quite left out, too. I know you and Harry and Ron have important confidential business to attend to, but the way it was treated made it seem like I was too stupid to hear about or understand it. Draco didn’t make me feel that way, and I liked it.”

To her surprise, Hermione’s features softened. “I’m sorry. I really am, Y/N. I don’t know why I didn’t realize earlier how unfair we were to you about that.”

“Really?”

She shrugged. “I think so.”

“Are we okay, then?”

Hermione frowned a little deeper as her idle hand allowed her quill to dribble ink over the fresh parchment she used. “Not really. I think I need some time. It’s hard for me to feel like I can trust you again after all of this.”

“I completely understand,” Y/N rushed out. “Hopefully one day things will be better, yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Hermione offered her a small smile before turning back to her work. If it had been another time, Y/N would’ve invited herself to sit across from her and distract her as she tried to study, telling Hermione all about her day and how much she wanted to drop kick Goyle across the Quidditch pitch, but it was different now, and she knew that.

Without another word, Y/N got up and left her old friend in her library.

Her dorm was rather quiet as she settled back into her bed for the second time that day, this time happy to find it entirely empty. It was a Sunday, after all, and she had an entire stack of homework to try and drag herself through before her classes the next day.

As her fingers began to card through the messy parchment of her desk, she took notice of an item that hadn’t been there before--a crimson red envelope, embossed with glittery golden piping and a roaring lion. Her family crest.

Y/N tore into the parchment as she wracked her brain to try and guess the contents. A howler? No, she’d been (mostly) good. A gift? She hadn’t been that good. What awaited her was much more underwhelming--just a boring old piece of parchment with black ink penned in her father’s handwriting.

But the news that it brought her had the memories from Christmas Break rushing back.

The next day, he was sitting in his Potions seat, making small talk with Pansy that coaxed a few laughs out of both students like nothing had happened the day before. Their eyes met briefly before he uncomfortably cleared his throat and turned away, back to Pansy’s animated speech over how ridiculous this class was.

Her heart ached at the sight. How could he act like nothing had ever happened between them? How could he just evade eye contact like that? Y/N felt a wave of uncontrollable jealousy wash over her when the thought of Pansy lying in his silk sheets with the knowledge that she was actually HIS, that he actually wanted her. It was all she could do to avert her eyes and pretend it didn’t happen, though Draco wasn’t exactly ignoring her anymore, which was almost worse. Now that she knew he only saw her as a friend, it only hurt so much more when he would chivalrously offer to walk her back to the library at night or say polite hellos to her in the halls.

The days began to bleed into each other again, speeding along even quicker now that she actually had people to sit with during meals and to talk to during common hours. Hermione and Ron had begun speaking to her again, though Harry was still making himself sparse whenever she appeared in a group.

To her surprise, though, that changed one day when a paper crane fluttered onto her desk in Charms. She opened it quickly, hoping desperately (and against her will) that it was from Draco, but instead she was greeted with a messy scrawl that she knew very well.

Meet me after practice on the pitch if you’d be okay with talking to me. -Harry

Despite the recent events, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia for the many times that Harry had written her similar notes, back when their relationship wasn’t rocky and she was actually helping the Trio. That wistfulness was quickly replaced with anxiety when she tried to figure out what to expect from Harry.

“Y/N,” he greeted her a few hours later. She rose from her seat on the bleachers and began to walk alongside him.

“Hi Harry.”

“Listen,” he began, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I know I’m not very good at talking about feelings--that’s why I’ve been putting this off for so long--but you deserve an apology for what happened in Myrtle’s bathroom. I don’t think I’ll ever understand your connection with Malfoy, but that isn’t an excuse for what happened.”

Well, this was going better than expected. “I’m not going to lie and say that it’s okay that you hexed me, but I don’t blame you all that much.”

Harry let out a nervous laugh. “That’s, er, really good to hear, Y/N. I am so, so sorry for what I did to you. Are you okay?”

“Just peachy,” responded Y/N. “Madame Pomfrey even said that the scarring might go away.” The way the blood drained out of his face made her realize that that probably wasn’t the right thing to say.

“Oh, Merlin, there’s scarring?”

“Forget I said that,” replied Y/N, placing a hand comfortingly on his arm. “Water under the bridge. It really is okay.”

“Well…” He coughed awkwardly as they neared the castle’s entrance. “I think I owe you an explanation as well. If you want one, that is.”

“Shoot,” she said. “Preferably not a deadly curse at me, though.”

If Harry thought that was funny, he certainly didn’t show it. “Looking back on what happened, it was all just a complete blur. I lost control.”

“Because I hadn’t told you about Malfoy?”

“Oh, well…” He cleared his throat, avoiding her eyes. “Obviously I was angry that you’d lied to us. And I was angry at Malfoy over Katie Bell. But that wasn’t what made me lose control. It was seeing you together. There was this moment before either of you noticed I was there and it just made me sick to my stomach to watch. Merlin, the way he…” Harry trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. “The way he looked at you. It just boiled my blood.”

“What do you mean?” asked Y/N, beginning to grow more and more confused. How could Harry have seen something that wasn’t even there in the first place?

“And the way you two looked at each other in Potions,” he continued, clearly not planning on answering her question. “It makes me sick. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“He doesn’t see me that way, Harry,” she said, her voice little.

“Has he told you that?”

“As a matter of fact he has.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Sorry about that.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she replied, holding his palms up in a surrender. “It’s not as if it came as a surprise or anything. Plus, not like I care. Just because I don’t want to see him get hurt does not mean I have feelings for him.” Y/N was talking too animatedly, something that prompted her friend to tilt his head and send her a curious look.

“Right. Well…” Harry stood up, brushing his robes off. “If I didn’t make it clear enough already, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what you see in him. But you haven’t lost me. I just hope I haven’t lost you.”

Y/N gave him a grateful smile before launching into his arms. He started, but once Y/N had her arms around his neck, he hugged her back. She breathed in the familiar woodsy smell she’d known since she was 11 and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I missed you, Harry.”

“I missed you too. So much.”

She was just about to poke fun at him for being sappy when someone pointedly cleared their throat behind them, prompting her to spin around and prepare to tell someone off for interrupting her conversation. Once she saw who it was before her, though, she froze.

“Try and keep the PDA at a minimum, yeah?” Draco Malfoy said, his lips twisted into a bored scowl.

“Draco,” she warned. He simply arched an eyebrow at her before swiftly passing by the two, being sure to brush harshly against Harry’s shoulder.

“What has gotten into him?” she asked in astonishment. “Merlin, it’s like we time traveled back to 5th year or something.”

He scoffed at her side. “Y/N, what did I tell you?”

The next day, Draco wasn’t at breakfast. Y/N tried not to think too much about his empty seat as she listened to Ron ramble on about how crazy Lavender was being. She had finally migrated over to the Gryffindor table, bringing her new Ravenclaw friend along with her. Hermione was still giving her side eye, but it was better than being treated like a complete outcast. This time around, Parkinson was gone from the Slytherin table, too. The thought of Pansy being the one to comfort him filled her chest with the slimy coolness of jealousy, but instead of dwelling on it further, she stabbed her fork through the strawberry on her plate and took a bite. If he wanted to mess around with her, he could. Merlin knew he needed some sort of distraction. But her most private thoughts couldn’t help but wonder if he ever had feelings for her. There were so many moments that made her think otherwise--the way he’d blush when she said anything flirtatious, how eager he had been to walk her to her dorm, all the glances sent her way…

It was at moments like these when Y/N sternly reminded herself that they were just friends and that was all he’d ever seen her as. Friends brushed hands. Friends walked each other to their dorms. Friends stared across the room at each other sometimes. Friends gave each other gifts. Hermione, Ron, and Luna had all acted similarly to her in the past and it was entirely platonic. She was just overanalyzing.

He didn’t show up to Potions, Charms, or Defense Against the Dark Arts. Snape was giving her the eye, and Y/N uncomfortably shifted in her chair as she wondered if the wizard had found out it was her who stole the Veritaserum.

“As you all may know,” he drawled, stalking the perimeter of the classroom, “A particular potion of mine has been...misplaced. If any of you happen to know where it is, I suggest you confess now.”

Nervous chatter erupted around the room as Snape’s eyes bored into hers. Was he using Legilimency on her? Wouldn’t she feel something? Despite her worries, he broke eye contact and spun around to the board, scrawling the topic of the lesson on the chalkboard. Y/N reminded herself to breathe.

He wasn’t at lunch, Transfiguration, or dinner. Y/N was starting to believe that Draco had just up and left Hogwarts as she began to get ready for bed, showering off the day and dressing in comfier clothes. For once, her homework load had been lightened to the point where she could put it off for a full day. Diffuser on, windows open, and sleeping clothes on, Y/N was ready and settled into bed early with nothing but her racing thoughts to keep her company.

Was Draco okay? Did something happen with his task? Where was he?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a light rap on her door.

“Y/N?” A young girl’s voice, muffled but distinguishable through the heavy wooden door shook her out of it. She groaned, throwing the blankets off her and closing her hand around the doorknob. She wasn’t even a prefect, but for some god-forsaken reason the first-years always went to her instead.

“Candace,” she greeted. “What’s cracking?”

“Someone wants to see you.” The first-year’s voice sounded shakier than usual. Y/N finally cast her eyes up from the short girl to take in the sight of a rather disheveled looking Draco Malfoy standing in her hallway.

“Draco? What are you doing here?”

He cleared his throat. “Are you busy?”

“Candace,” Y/N said, addressing the eleven year old in front of her first, “Thanks for helping Draco. You should go to bed, you know. It’s late.”

Wide-eyed, Candace dashed off without any protest. Y/N cast a raised brow to Draco and tried to look like she hadn’t spent the past 12 hours obsessing over his disappearance. “You better have a good reason for showing up at my dorm in the middle of the night and scaring one of my first-years to death.”

“She wasn’t scared,” he argued.

“You must be horrible with reading children,” stated Y/N. “Anyways, is this a conversation that you want to have in my dorm hall? Or would you prefer to come inside?”

He tilted his head towards the doorway. “May I?”

“Er...sure. Come on in.” She bit back the quip about already offering. “What’s going on? You missed all your classes today.”

“I’m aware,” he responded drily as he sat down on the same spot she’d just been nearly asleep on. “I just...something happened last night. I didn’t know where else to go.”

Y/N tried not to blush at how flattered she was. He didn’t even like her. Why was she acting like that still? Friends did this sort of thing. Friends were there for each other. “Oh. Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to just take your mind off of it?”

He seemed to ponder this for a moment before exhaling a deep sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe take my mind off it until I feel ready to talk about it.”

Y/N gave him a small smile, leading him by the cuff of his sleeve over to her window. “I think I know something we can do. Grab a pillow and a blanket.”

He did as she asked while she opened up the window wider until it was large enough to crawl through, spelling the tiles of the roof outside clean.

“Are we going on the roof?”

“As long as you’re not too scared of heights, yeah,” she responded, using her desk as a stepping stool while she swung the rest of her body out on the old Hogwarts roof. Despite the age of the castle, the structure was thankfully sturdy. “Pass me anything you want out here. I’ll get it set up for us.”

“I’m not sitting on that dirty roof,” he said, his usual snotty tone creeping into his voice as he handed her a blanket for each of them.

“Okayyy, Your Highness.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “We can sit on my blanket.” True to her word, she took the one she usually slept with and covered the tiles. “Will you come sit with me now?”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He settled in next to her, his own blanket barely draped over his knees while she sat cross legged at his side, trying not to shiver from the cold late winter air. “Wow. This is actually a better view than from the Astronomy tower.”

“I know, right?” she said, trying to ignore how her heart fluttered every time he looked at her. “You can see Hogsmeade from here, too.”

The pair watched the scenery before them in silence. Y/N drank in the landscape bathed in soft moonlight, the winding creeks leading into the Dark Forest reflecting the moon while the Black Lake’s waves gently lapped at the shores.

“I come up here sometimes when I get stressed,” she confessed after a little while. Draco turned to look at her, his lips slightly quirked up and his eyes soft.

“Yeah?”

“It just helps clear my head,” she continued. “I feel really lucky to live in the Tower. It must be kind of weird to know that if you opened your window you’d just flood your room.”

Draco snorted. “You get used to it.”

Y/N hummed in something that felt a little like agreement.

He shuffled, clearing his throat. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you this since that night. I’m…sorry that I can’t give you what you want.”

“It’s really okay,” she said, her cheeks growing hot. “I understand. You can’t change how you feel. I’m happy to be your friend and eventually that’s all I’ll ever want.”

Draco dipped his head in a nod of acknowledgement when a brilliant display of lights suddenly exploded over Hogsmeade. Fireworks. They were obviously magic, charmed to glitter in the shape of the words, “Happy Birthday, Margie!”

“Oh my god, happy birthday Margie,” Y/N echoed, eager for the distraction of their conversation.

“I wonder how old she’s turning.”

“I bet she’s 34,” said Y/N.

“32.”

“33, maybe, but that’s pushing it.”

She returned his grin before she felt something hit the top of her head--a raindrop, fat and cold--and roll down the back of her neck. “Shit. I think it’s going to rain soon. Do you want to go back in?”

As if to accentuate her point, the clouds above them rumbled. Draco shrugged. “If you want. I kind of like staying out here, though.”

“Me too.”

They sat in the quiet for a few more moments, the only sound coming from the soft patter of the rain and the occasional boom of Margie’s birthday fireworks. Y/N began to shiver as the raindrops became more frequent, her loose sleeping shirt and her shorts not really doing much for her. All of a sudden, she felt something fuzzy on top of her head.

She looked to her left to see that Draco had lifted his blanket to drape over both of them, creating a tent of some sort. “Thanks, Draco.”

“Don’t mention it.” His smile set off the butterflies in her stomach once again, but she beat them back. The fireworks continued, now switching to a glittering sage green. “I bet Margie was a Slytherin.”

“Or maybe she just likes sage green,” argued Y/N.

“Maybe.” He held her gaze for what felt like a second too long before clearing his throat and turning his attention back onto the night sky. It occurred to her at that moment that they could’ve just transfigured the pillows they were sitting on into umbrellas, but traitorously, she didn’t want to mention it if it meant she lost her chance to be near him.

She felt something lightly brush past the hand she had rested in the space between them but thought nothing of it, instead focusing on her breathing and making sure she didn’t sound like she was hyperventilating because she most certainly felt like she wanted to. She’d never shared her special roof spot with anyone, not even Harry or Ron. But he didn’t know that.

The fireworks exploded with a crescendo of motion as multiple green sparkles were launched into the air, crackling and sparking with energy. At any other point in time, Y/N would’ve found it easy to focus on the beauty of the show, but something else caught her attention: the fact that Draco’s hand was now set directly next to hers, the edge of his touching her with the lightest of pressures. Every nerve ending in her left hand felt like it was burning with energy as Draco, without even sparing a glance in her direction, inched his hand over just enough for his pinky to overlap with hers.

Y/N tried to remember how to breathe as her thoughts ran wild. Friends touched hands sometimes. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe he didn’t even know it was her hand.

She heard Draco’s own breath hitch in his throat as his hand finally slipped under hers, intertwining their fingers and turning them so her hand rested in his palm.

Friends held hands sometimes. There was nothing romantic about this. Nope. This was normal. Y/N’s frenzied thoughts were interrupted by Draco’s voice.

“You know how much danger my family is in,” he said, finally revealing what had him so shaken up. “Well, I got a letter from my mother last night. Apparently she’s been getting these strange, veiled threats. She can’t identify the owl and it seems like whoever this is is hell-bent on breaking into the manor. My aunt and the rest of the Death Eaters have been ridiculing her for even worrying about it.”

Y/N started to feel a guilty pit in her stomach. The letter her father sent her was beginning to make more sense. “Draco, that’s awful.”

“Do you think that maybe they’re the ones who are sending them to her?” he asked, his voice raising an octave at the end, flourished with a small crack in his tone. “As a way to rush me to the end of my task?”

Draco had slowly leaned into her as he told her his worries, and Y/N found herself gently squeezing his hand. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this on top of everything else. This isn’t fair to you. Is there anything I can do to help you? Do you need help solving the cabinet?”

He shook his head, casting his gaze down to their hands. “Is it okay if I just stay here for a little?”

“Of course you can,” she said, immediately regretting her words. Having him around would only make her feel worse. Was this how he treated all of his friends? She held back an ill-timed chuckle at the thought of him holding hands with Goyle.

“Thanks, Y/N.” His eyes were so light that she could still see the silver hue of them in the dark, reflecting what little moonlight found him under the blanket. “You know, I’m glad we had detention together. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Pansy kept badgering me all day about how she could help instead of actually listening and Blaise just told me that if I kept moping around he’d nab my mother himself.”

“Oh,” said Y/N. Jealousy surged through her as she thought again about Pansy. When she held hands with him, she probably never had to wonder what it meant. “Do they know about…”

“Not everything,” Draco clarified. “That’s just you. They just know about my current house guests. I haven’t told them any specifics.”

Another pang of guilt rattled through Y/N as she ran through the information she’d gotten the night prior in her head while he squeezed her hand back, his thumb running along her skin. She felt like the shame of not mentioning it earlier was burning her up.

“Draco, I need to tell you something.” The makeshift blanket tent all of a sudden felt like the most intimate location in the world as he turned to face her fully, now gripping her hand with two of his own and leaning closer, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What is it?”

“I…” She trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut as she mentally ran through the contents of the parchment on her desk. For a moment, all she could hear was the pounding of rain and Draco’s breathing.

“If this is what I think it is, then I--”

“I’m not about to confess to you again literally right after being rejected,” she snipped back, pulling her hands from his grip in a moment of unexpected humiliation. “I’m not that stupid.”

Draco took his own hands, now empty, and folded them neatly on his thigh. He stopped meeting her eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t--I wasn’t going to--”

“It’s--no, I’m sorry.” Y/N found herself angry that she gave up her excuse to hold his hand. “That was just a little embarrassing for me. I promise I won’t bring it up again. This is something totally different.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” To her surprise, there was no usual teasing lilt to his tone; he was being entirely genuine.

“I want you to know that we can call this off at any time,” she began, watching his blank expression carefully should it change, “But I hope you think about this.”

“Think about what?”

“I’m kidnapping your mom.”

There. It was out. Draco’s mouth had long since fallen open, a look of mild horror on his face. “What the actual fuck?”

“Let me explain,” Y/N rushed. “The Order owes my family a favor. My mom knew yours. I may have mentioned something about the treatment towards her over the holidays and now my family is orchestrating a way to fake a kidnapping-turned-murder situation to get her out.”

He blinked at her.

“Of course we can call it off anytime you want,” Y/N repeated. She cast a quick Accio (something she was surprised worked considering how shaky she was) and summoned her father’s letter from her desk, thrusting it into his arms. “Read this. It has all the details.”

Draco scanned the document without a single word leaving his lips.

“You’re scaring me, Draco. What do you think?”

“You have an Italian beach cottage?” he asked.

“Apparently so,” answered Y/N. “I’ve never been there, but we haven’t actually registered it through the British Ministry. If we hide your mother there, no one is going to be able to find her. She’s not required to give up information to the Order, either--I mean, we kind of hope that she will, but there’s no mandated amount of intel to keep her safe.”

“And I can…”

“Yes. After your task is straightened out, you can join her if you want.” She hardly finished her sentence before Draco’s arms pulled her into the tightest hug she’d ever been given in her life.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he mumbled, his voice strained. “How did you...wow. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Her voice was muffled by his shoulder. “I’m just glad I could help.”

He finally pulled away, still keeping his hands gently placed on her forearms. She tried to keep her thoughts from straying too much as he gazed down at her, a slightly sad downturn in his lips. The way he was looking at her began to make her even more nervous.

“Well, it’s getting late,” she stated. “I want to get up early tomorrow so I’m not too late to Potions. Are you feeling better?”

Draco cleared his throat. “Er, yes. I suppose so. Thanks again, Y/N. I’m assuming this is when you kick me out?”

“Don’t say it like that.” She spelled her blanket clean from under him and stepped back into her room, turning to face him. “I’m just tired. That’s all. I’m glad you felt like you could come to me.”

He sent her a small smile before swinging his legs over the windowsill and making his way to the door. “I hope you have a good night. Sleep well.” He went in for another hug, but this time Y/N accidentally leaned the same direction as him, nearly crashing her lips into his.

“Shit, sorry,” she murmured as she quickly corrected herself to lean the other way--and was horrified to find that he had done the exact thing as well, barely dodging him this time and instead reeling herself back as far as his hold on her allowed. Draco let out a nervous laugh, letting her go and stepping away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well. That was poorly timed considering the conversation we had,” he pointed out. What stellar observational skills.

“Er, yeah. Well…” Y/N held her hand out and immediately felt herself cringe. “Here’s to being good friends.”

He took her hand in his and tentatively shook it, a sort of half-smirk dancing on his lips as his eyebrow raised. “To being good friends. I’ll see you later.”

Then he was gone, and Y/N was able to flop back on her bed and frantically sort through her thoughts in peace. He’d almost--no, she’d almost--well, they both had almost kissed. As friends, though. Obviously.

This is ridiculous. She pulled a blanket up around her and immediately froze when she breathed in--black tea and sage, just as she remembered. She decided it was high time to switch her blankets anyways and tossed that one in the laundry bin.

“And then guess what she said?”

“Come on, we’re waiting,” Y/N said to Ron as they chattered over their cauldron in Potions together, flanked by the rest of her Gryffindor friends.

“Lavender said I’m obviously pining after Hermione because I keep asking her to study with me.”

“No!” came from Neville after a theatrical gasp. “She did not.”

“She literally did, mate,” Harry cut in. “I saw it myself. Honestly, I think she might be onto something. I’ve always sensed some sort of tension between you two.”

“I think Harry’s right, as much as it pains me to say it,” she teased, giving her friend a little shove. Seamus had just opened his mouth to start talking when the sound of shattering glass prompted them all to whip around to face the Slytherin section. Draco Malfoy stood awkwardly clutching the broken remains of a glass vial in his hand like he was still in disbelief over what had occurred.

“Malfoy, boy, is everything alright over there?” Slughorn asked from the front.

“Yes,” he said quickly, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know what happened.”

“You should sleep more,” the professor continued. “It’s harder to control your magic when you’re young and exhausted.”

Draco just nodded, his gaze turning over to meet Y/N’s worried one. She tilted her head, mouthing, “Are you okay?”. He sent her a tight smile and nodded, though Pansy sent her a very dirty look.

“So that was weird,” said Y/N, turning back around to face Harry. “I haven’t broken glass by losing control of my magic since I was a kid.”

“One time I let a snake out in a muggle zoo,” said Harry, his eyes miles away as he traveled down memory lane.

“You what now?”

“I can’t believe I never told you that.”

“I think I would’ve remembered that. What’d you do, whisper in its ear about how the only thing it has to lose is its chains or something until he was motivated enough to escape?”

Harry laughed. “No. I vanished the glass. And then it thanked me, which was horribly alarming for a kid who had no idea what magic was.”

“You poor, poor thing,” she mocked before Slughorn dismissed them and they began to make their way together down the hall. “Suffering from success.”

Harry chuckled, and Y/N felt a surge of affection for the fact that they were friends once again. “Basically the story of my life. Anyways, I’m off to see Snape.”

“Merlin, are you okay?” asked Y/N, holding her hand to his forehead and miming the motion of checking for a fever. “On your own time?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s alright,” he said, suddenly looking more somber. “I’m just serving detention for what happened in the bathroom. I am still very sorry about that, you know. If you wanted to curse me to get back at me, I’d understand.”

She shoved him forward, a smile dancing on her lips as she said, “Go on, suffer for my honor.” Then she felt a hand pull her back into an empty, dark classroom.

“Let go of me!” she exclaimed, twisting around to try and see the person who had grabbed her.

“Boo,” whispered a familiar voice in her ear.

“Draco, you do realize you could just talk to me in the halls like a normal goddamn person,” she chided, finally being released from his grip so she could give him a stern look. He only shrugged, a slightly impish look displayed across his features.

“But it’s more fun this way.”

She tried her hardest to frown at him, but it was honestly difficult when he was smiling at her the way he was. “So, what’s up? Did something happen?”

“Nothing really,” he admitted. “I just know that we both have free periods. Do you want to spend it together?”

Friends, friends, friends, friends, friends Y/N chanted in her head. He’s only saying this as a platonic thing.

“I guess I don’t really have anything better to do,” she teased. Despite her light hearted tone, she couldn’t help but notice the shift in Draco’s behavior. In a matter of days, he was looking more like himself than he had all year--the color finding its way back into his cheeks, the corners of his eyes crinkling up when he smiled, the food on his plate in the Great Hall actually being eaten.

If there was one thing that Y/N was quickly learning about Draco, it was that under all of his snobbery, he was endearingly weird. He’d memorized all of the captains of the Slytherin Quidditch team, read everything there was in the library about alchemy, and always sent her the dorkiest fucking waves whenever their eyes met.

So, in spirit of Draco’s newly recovered persona, Y/N spent the rest of her free period sitting in the empty classroom and chatting with him about a whole load of nothing. They’d both sat on top of adjacent desks, and sometimes Y/N would swing her feet so she kicked his shin. He’d always promptly return the favor.

“So,” she said after a while, “Have you been thinking about what I told you? My family’s plan, and all?”

He was quiet for a few seconds, his gaze cast down to his hands. “A little. I guess I’m just a little confused about what I should do with my task or when all of this is going to happen.”

“I’m only asking because I’ve been thinking about it,” confessed Y/N. “I think I’ve figured out what you should do with your task. If you want to, that is.”

“I’m listening.”

“We’ve already established that You-Know-Who has nothing to hold over your head without your mother at stake,” began Y/N, searching his face to find agreement, “But it’s going to look suspicious if you suddenly stop sending progress reports.”

Draco reached his hand up to scratch his cheek. “One problem, though. I don’t think I’ll be able to repair the cabinet. I’ve hit a complete dead end anyways.”

“That’s fine,” said Y/N. “That doesn’t matter. Fake the progress reports. I don’t think that you should fix it at all, to be honest. I think you should leave it broken and still invite Bellatrix and her friends to travel through it.”

“And kill them?!”

“Or maim them,” offered Y/N. “I know it’s not ideal, but I think that if I tweaked the cabinet’s lunar belt just right, I might be able to control how the space-time continuum is warped and simply incapacitate them so the Order can take them into custody. Of course, the dark magic as an element may throw a curveball, but it’s worth a shot. And if you do this, it’ll mean that the Order will trust you more.”

“Hm.” Draco caught his bottom lip on his teeth while he shut his eyes, obviously stewing over everything. “That’s quite the risk.”

“I can run it by my family to get their thoughts on it,” she offered. “But the only caveat is that I have to mention what you’re trying to do.”

His eyes shot open. “Maybe don’t mention the part where I’ve already made more than one attempt on the headmaster’s life if we end up going down that route.”

Y/N shrugged. “The Order might already know. Isn’t Snape onto you?”

“He’s not ‘onto me’, he was instructed to help--” Draco stopped in his tracks as he stared at her. “Wait, what?”

“Oh,” she said, both of them frozen as they realized what they’d revealed to each other. “Erm...forget I mentioned that.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” he mumbled, sending a half-hearted kick at her. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Love it,” she said absentmindedly. “Anyways, will you go to Slug’s Valentine party with me next weekend? As friends, of course. He wants all of us to bring dates and I don’t know who else to ask.”

Draco looked like he was glowing. “Really? You wouldn’t bring Potter?”

“Eh,” she responded. “I’m pretty sure he’s going with Ginny. Plus, I see him around the common room enough as it is.” Y/N waited a few moments. “So? Are you in?”

He shook himself out of what looked to be a weirdly stupified state. “Er, of course. Just let me know when you need me.”

The Hogwarts bells began to chime outside, signifying that the third period block was beginning.

“Saturday at 8,” said Y/N, turning to leave. “You can meet me in front of the Great Hall.”

“I’ll just walk you from your dorm.”

“Then you have to be there earlier.”

Draco shrugged. “I don’t mind. Anyways, I’m off to Runes. Enjoy Divination.” He bumped her shoulder as he walked past, sending a thrill through Y/N. How had he even known that she had Divination? That was one of the few classes they didn’t share, and she probably just mentioned it in passing once.

Then again, they were friends. And just because Ron and Hermione hadn’t memorized her schedule, it didn’t mean that Draco was the same kind of friend.

Things only got more confusing as time went on. Draco found any excuse to talk to her, especially when she was with Harry. If he were any other boy, Y/N would’ve immediately assumed the obvious: that he had a crush on her and was jealous. But, obviously, that was impossible. He’d told her upfront that he didn’t have any feelings for her. So why was his behavior so different after that night they spent together on the roof?

It got even weirder on Friday. Draco once again pulled her away from a conversation with Harry to shove a little box in her hands.

“What’s this, Draco?” she asked, frowning as she turned it around in her hand.

“It’s just something I thought you might like,” he muttered, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Her interest piqued, Y/N opened the box.

“A quidditch bracelet?” Y/N gulped as she looked down at the enchanted diamonds, each glittering with a gentle silver pigment--as well as a slight lavender purple sheen. This was not a normal gift to give to your school friend. This was at least a few thousand galleons--probably even more, considering the enchantments that made the stones glow. Even her considerably wealthy family wouldn’t buy her one because of her horrid track record with jewelry.

He shrugged. “I picked it up while I was at Barnaby’s a bit ago. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want. I remembered I had it when you asked me to Slug’s party and I thought I’d see if you’d be interested.”

“Erm,” said Y/N, stammering, “I’ve never gotten a gift like this from someone before.”

“Believable.” Draco snorted. “Take it and do me a favor. It’s not like I’d wear it. It might as well be appreciated by someone.”

“It’s beautiful, it really is. I’m just worried because I have a bit of a habit of forgetting I’m wearing jewelry and breaking it….”

“I assumed. That’s why I charmed it to be unbreakable,” said Draco quickly. “If you don’t want to wear it, I won’t be offended. I’m just offering.”

Y/N couldn’t help but be thankful that the abandoned classroom he’d pulled her into was dark. Otherwise, he might’ve seen how red her cheeks were. “I guess we’ll figure out how strong your unbreaking enchantments are shortly.”

“Is this your way of saying yes?”

“Help me put it on, will you?”

She could see dimples form in his cheeks as he allowed a small, close lipped smile to spread across his face while he unclasped the bracelet from the box and gently turned her arm so her palm faced up to the sky. His touch lingered over her skin for a few seconds. Y/N had to remind herself to breathe.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice suddenly low, “About what we talked about last time we were here. About the cabinet, and the Order…”

“Yeah?”

“I think I want to do it,” he said firmly, finally pulling his hands away from her arm and tossing the empty wrapping into his pocket. “Just tell me what you need from me.”

“Nothing yet, really. Just your consent to tell my family about your task. I’ll let you know if they want anything else.” Though Y/N’s response was truthful and concise, her mind was elsewhere as she came to a depressing realization. He wasn’t giving her the quidditch bracelet because he secretly liked her and wanted to spoil her or whatever. He was doing it as a thank you for what she was doing for him and his mother. An elaborate gift for an even more elaborate favor.

“That’s easy enough,” Draco mused. “In the meantime, I’ll keep sending progress reports.”

“Good plan,” said Y/N, her voice a little deflated. “Thank you again for the bracelet. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She left the classroom and spent the rest of her night stewing over the poor decisions she’d made regarding her emotions over the past week. She knew about the effect that Draco had over her, yet she still invited him to Slug’s party like an idiot. And then she’d let herself get her hopes up over dumb little things like the way he looked at her in class or the quidditch bracelet when he was really just being a friend trying to pay her back for a big favor.

Saturday night was going to be rough if she couldn’t get her feelings in line.

At 7:50 sharp, Y/N waited by the portrait of the Fat Lady. Peeves wailed above her as she tried to practice slow breathing--in for 5 seconds, out for 5 seconds. I am in control of my feelings. I control my own reality.

Then she saw him, and all of the work she’d done trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him amounted to nothing. He looked breathtaking. Y/N bit her tongue as she tried to violently beat back the thoughts of all the things she wanted him to do to her.

“You look nice,” he said smoothly once he was close enough for it to be socially acceptable. Her mouth went completely dry as she drank in the sight of him in an all-black suit.

“Thanks. So do you.” She internally congratulated herself for getting through that without stumbling over her words too much. Gingerly, she pushed herself off her position of leaning on the wall and began to walk alongside him.

As they ascended the steps, her heel teetered. She reached for Draco’s hand in a moment of sheer panic--and, surprisingly, he latched onto her and held her up.

“Didn’t your parents ever tell you to not wear shoes you couldn’t walk in?” he said, amused. He didn’t move to let go of her hand.

“Don’t be rude, Malfoy,” she fired back.

“You’re not wearing it,” he noted. His lips slightly turned into a frown as he cast his eyes downwards.

Y/N stared at him, her mind barely functioning at this point. “What?”

“The bracelet,” he said, letting go of her hand to motion to her wrist.

“Oh,” she responded lamely. In truth, she’d tossed it into his quill box while she was in the throes of self-pity over the whole ordeal of unrequited feelings, but she could hardly tell him that. “I took it off to shower and it took too long to put back on.”

“You know, you could’ve just asked me to help again,” he said with a teasing lilt. “I’d only judge you a little.”

She smiled, grateful he wasn’t pushing it any further. “Ever the gentleman. I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

They made it to the fifth floor in no time. Slughorn only seemed slightly concerned with the presence of Draco, but he didn’t say anything to Y/N. As she expected, Hermione and Ron gave her a little bit of side-eye once they saw her choice of a date, but neither of them brought it up and even spoke to her for a little--though they never verbally acknowledged Malfoy. While she was constantly overanalyzing the little things that Draco was doing--the way he offered her a sip of his drink when she spaced out on the way his hands looked holding it for too long, the way he was always touching her in some way, whether it be a hand on her lower back or a lingering grip on her waist--she couldn’t help but feel overcome with the relief that her friends seemed somewhat accepting of her new friendship with Draco.

Then Harry opened his mouth.

“Malfoy,” he greeted through gritted teeth.

“Potter.”

Ginny met her slightly panicked gaze with one of her own. To her surprise, though, Harry just flicked his gaze to where Draco’s hand was lightly poised on her waist, raising an eyebrow. “Congratulations for finally being honest with her. I always thought Y/N deserved a bloke who outright admitted his feelings. I never thought I’d say this, but maybe that is you after all.”

Draco’s hand immediately dropped. “Do me a favor and bugger off.”

“Or maybe I’m wrong,” replied Harry, looking Draco up and down with possibly the pettiest look she’d ever seen on a wizard before. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“That was weird,” said Y/N, though she secretly revelled in the fact that Harry was picking up on something too.

“I suppose.” Draco slid off one of his rings, running his fingertips over the ridges of his family crest.

“Hey, are you okay?” asked Y/N, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded. “I’m fine. Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve just never really been a party person.”

“I imagine it’s probably not helping that Harry’s here,” she said, giving his arm a little squeeze before releasing him. “Do you want to just get out of here? I think we’ve been here for long enough to justify ditching.” His grateful smile told her everything. “I had a feeling. Where do you want to go?”

He pondered this for a bit. “I’m not sure. Anywhere but here.”

“Anywhere but here” quickly turned into his dorm as they wordlessly made their way down to the dungeons, passing by Marvin the raven outside Snape’s stores. Y/N’s pulse sped up every time their hands brushed--which seemed to happen far, far too often for it to be accidental on either of their ends.

“I can’t believe you broke in there,” he said finally, chuckling as the raven cooed at her appreciatively. “And just for me? I’m flattered.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it,” grumbled Y/N. Obviously she’d done it just for him--she was hopelessly obsessed with him. He knew that. She found herself profoundly grateful that she’d been under the influence of Veritaserum that time instead of now--if she’d had so much as a drop of truth serum, she’d spend the entire night telling him how much she wanted him. “Anyways, I’m sorry for how weird Harry was back there. I don’t get why he feels the need to make assumptions about everything.”

Draco hummed, tapping his fingers on her wrist. Just friends, just friends, you’re just friends. Merlin fucking damnit, why did he have such nice hands? “I don’t know. He was certainly sure about it.”

“And I have no clue why,” Y/N said, pretending like she was in disbelief instead of acute pain. “I know you don’t see me like that. I’m not really sure where he’s getting that from.”

“Oh?” Draco let his hand fall, a weird tone coming over his voice. “You aren’t?”

“Well, I remember what you said,” she said matter-of-factly, trying her hardest not to read into the way he was staring at her, watching every fidget of her hands. “It’s not like I’d be self-loathing enough to expect anything different.”

He let out a huff of frustration. “Y/L/N, honestly. I sent you a box of special Wurgie’s lavender chocolates on Valentine’s day. I spend all of my free periods talking to you.”

“Ok?” Y/N couldn’t help but be taken aback by how argumentative his tone was becoming. “I suppose I see how Harry could read into that. But I have to spend my free periods with someone, right? And sometimes I get my friends chocolate on Valentine’s day too.”

“I bought you a whole enchanted quidditch bracelet. It’s the only one of its kind,” he snipped, obviously becoming more agitated. “I spent an entire day trying to find the right unbreaking spell. My father literally wrote to me from Azkaban to ask me why the Gringotts bank statement recorded me taking out that many galleons at once. He thought someone had broken into our account.”

“He doesn’t know that.” Y/N was becoming keenly aware of how close he was standing to her now that they’d stopped walking, her back a few inches from the wall as he leaned into her space. “Even if I had worn it out, there’s no way he could’ve known it was from you.”

“That’s not what I’m--” he began waspishly before clearing his throat and collecting himself. “I’m just saying, those things aren’t exactly platonic.”

“Okay,” said Y/N slowly, trying to turn her thoughts away from how soft his lips looked, “I’ll concede that some things that we do can be read as something more than friendship. But I know how you feel. You told me.”

He wet his lips. “Do you actually think I care about whatever goes in that dim brain of his?”

“Normally, no. But considering the fact that we just had an argument over it, then maybe I’m incorrect in assuming.”

“Well, I don’t,” he said, his voice suddenly quiet. He was close enough that she could smell the traces of that expensive cologne he always wore that reminded her of loose leaf lapsang souchong and fresh parchment. “And I was never trying to argue with you about his perception. I was talking about my actual intentions.”

“What?” Y/N choked out as she tentatively glanced up to see his jaw set. Her heart was pounding so hard it must’ve been audible. What the hell was he talking about?

Instead of answering, Draco gently reached up to her shoulders, walking her back until she was pinned up against the wall. His other hand came to tilt her chin so their eyes met. She would’ve been deceived into thinking he was confident by his unwavering stare, but she’d felt how his hands were slightly unstable. “Merlin, are you going to make me spell it out for you? How many different ways am I going to need to tell you?”

In the end, she wasn’t quite sure who it was who closed the gap--just that, at some point, one of them did, and that she was all of a sudden kissing Draco Malfoy with a fervor that she didn’t know she had in her. His mouth was hot against hers as he pressed her up further into the wall, his knee rising between her thighs to prop her up.

In the recesses of the back of her mind, it vaguely registered that this didn’t add up with what he told her the last night they spent together--but she decided to brush all those concerns off to the nebulous concept of later when his hands tangled into her hair.

The sound of footsteps and students giggling echoed down the corridor, making the pair jump apart. Y/N wiped her lips, trying to fix the smear of her lipstick as Draco frantically straightened out his tie that she’d tugged loose. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t make herself meet his eyes.

“Do you still want to go back to my dorm?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She dared to look up at him, not expecting the sight of his pupils blown out and his cheeks slightly rosy. “If that’s okay, yeah.”

Neither of them attempted to make conversation as he led her through the empty Slytherin common room. She could feel her heart crawling into her throat. She’d never gone to a boy’s dorm before other than during the Veritaserum incident--sure, she’d kissed some boys before, she’d even gone to the Yule Ball with a cute Beauxbatons boy--but she didn’t know how this worked. Was she supposed to immediately start kissing him the moment his bedroom door was closed? Was she supposed to be kissing him now? Was she supposed to be kissing him at all after that?

They made it into his bedroom before Y/N could come to a decision on her next action, so she decided to just not make any moves. Fuck, that was almost worse. Where would she sit? At his desk? No, who the fuck does that? Next to him on his bed? No, too suggestive. Just stand by the door? Merlin, no. She wished that the ground would just open up and swallow her whole so she could sit back in her dorm and think about the way he’d kissed her in private.

“So,” said Draco.

“So,” echoed Y/N, finally giving in and sinking down onto the bed next to him.

“So, I take it that you still like me?” A small smirk danced on his lips.

Her cheeks blushed into a furious red. “Draco, please don’t make this any more embarrassing than it has to be.”

“What are you...huh?” He shifted so he was on his side, propping up his chin with his palm as he studied her with agonizing attention. “Why would it be embarrassing when I was the one who kissed you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe the fact that this isn’t the first time? And the fact that I’m waiting for you to tell me you didn’t mean it again?”

“You think I didn’t mean that?” Draco’s eyebrows raised. “Do I need to do it again to get it through that thick skull of yours?”

“I--what--don’t be rude,” she stuttered.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t lose the upturn of his lips. “I guess so. I suppose I was planning on it anyway.”

All her nervousness melted away as Draco edged closer, the coolness of his rings pressing pleasantly into her neck. Instead of kissing her immediately like she expected, he traced the outline of her neck up to her ear where he wound his fingers into her hair, finally leaning in so their lips met.

His skin was soft against hers as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss and pulling her into his lap, his fingers spanning the width of her waist and twisting in the satiny fabric of her dress. When she was out of breath and the pillow she was next to was beginning to get pushed dangerously close to the edge, she finally broke the kiss.

“Can’t you just tell me how you feel with your words?” she prompted.

“Isn’t it obvious?” said Draco.

“I thought it was obvious last time.”

“Well, it was. That was before I knew that I was relieved of my task,” he explained, his grip around her waist tightening to tug her ever closer.

“Why would that matter?”

“Because,” he began, a slightly exasperated look in his eye, “If I had my task and my mother was still at stake, I would’ve had to go back home over the summer. And You-Know-Who would see you in my memories. Plus, I think that being a full-time Death Eater makes it very difficult to be a good boyfriend to someone who’s best friends with Harry Potter. That would complicate things. I knew that if I told you I felt the same way I wouldn’t be able to say no to you.”

“So…” She swallowed. “Does this mean that you’ve liked me all along? Like, from the start?”

“What do you think?” he drawled, his fingers ghosting over the zipper of her dress. “Do you think I just go around kissing random girls in my bed?”

“Well, what about Pansy?”

“Yeah, actually, what about her?” he asked, a little glimmer appearing in his eye. “We haven’t been together since, what, the middle of 5th year? I talk to her as much as I talk to any of my other Slytherin friends. I don’t know what’s got you so up in arms over her.”

“She obviously isn’t over you,” Y/N pointed out. “I just know it.”

“And? I’m over her.” He gave her a knowing look. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t know!” she exclaimed. “I thought that maybe there was something. It’s not like I’m keenly aware of the Slytherin social going-ons.”

“Sheesh, so defensive,” he tutted, his thumbs now rubbing circles into her shoulders. “It’s almost like you like me or something.”

“Draco!” She swatted at him, but he caught her hand in midair and kissed each of her knuckles, giving her an almost sheepish look. It was all she could do to keep her laughs from getting too loud as he dropped her hand and swept towards her again, kissing her fully.

Before she knew it, they were rolled over so he was on top of her, hovering over her with his elbows supporting his weight as he pressed warm, open-mouthed kisses along the bare curve of her neck. She closed her eyes and let a soft sigh escape her as his lips drags across the spot under her ear, pushing up further into him.

“You liked that, huh?” He looked far too pleased with himself.

“Shut up,” she said, reaching up to thread her fingers lightly through his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. Something possessed her to wind her fingers through the locks on the back of his neck and close them into a fist, awarding her with a sharp intake of air from Draco. “You liked that, huh?” she mocked.

He rolled his eyes, muttering a “fucking hell” so quietly that she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to hear it. Despite the exasperation in his tone, his mouth was still fixed in an upturn as he looked down at her, his eyes soft. She couldn’t help but move up to kiss him again, and again, and again, until her lungs were screaming for air and her neck was cramping from the angle.

She let her head fall back onto his down comforter, taking in the sight of Draco with swollen, well-kissed lips.

“What?” He tilted his head as he regarded her.

“I just love you like this,” she said shyly. “Oh, Merlin, wait, I didn’t mean it like…”

Draco let out a chuckle. “It’s okay. I know what you meant. I love you like this, too. You’re not as difficult.” He rolled off of her, taking a moment to shed his dress coat and pull off his tie.

When he was close enough again, she rewarded his tolerance with a smile and a delicate, nervous kiss on his collarbone, dragging her teeth over his skin for just a moment. The hand that was placed on her back scrunched up the material of her dress as Draco’s breath caught.

“Your hands are bloody cold,” he complained as her fingers wound themselves under his dress shirt, exploring the new expanse of exposed alabaster skin.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, pulling away and letting go for just a second before he grabbed her wrists together and hauled her back.

“No.”

“I’ve never…”

“That’s okay,” he said as she settled back onto his lap, reveling in the soft way that he was treating the skin that was exposed by her dress. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

“I’m just scared,” she suddenly choked out. Where did that come from? “I want you, now, but I don’t want to wake up tomorrow to you telling me that you can’t do this or that you didn’t like it or…” She trailed off, distracted by the way he firmly tapped the outer edge of her thigh.

“I’m not going to do that to you,” he said. “I promise. I made that mistake once. Plus, the burden of the performance is kind of on me anyways, so there’s nothing to be nervous about if that’s a hold up.”

She snorted. “Don’t make me change my mind, Malfoy.”

Despite her words, the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I mean it. If you want to just lie there that’s fine. As long as you enjoy it, it’ll be great for me.” His hand came up to gingerly brush away the pieces of hair that had fallen in her face before dropping to gently toy with the top of her zipper again--a question. Wordlessly, she allowed herself to be helped out of the garment, letting it fall to the ground before turning back to attack the buttons on Draco’s chest. He made an amused sound as she struggled, eventually unsheathing his wand and opening it up in a second.

“I could’ve done that, you know,” she said rather defensively.

“Yes, yes, I know,” he said, hardly masking his teasing tone. “You’re very capable. Now come here.”

And so she did.

The idea of sex had always been scary to Y/N. Someone, especially someone attractive enough for her to want to sleep with him, seeing her fully exposed made her want to freeze up and dive under her blankets. But that was before Draco. Somewhere, hidden deep in the back of her brain, lay an anxious switch that flicked off as soon as she was pinned under him with his knee pushing up to part her legs. She no longer felt like she had to be self-conscious--despite how intimidated she was by him, she’d never felt more adored.

Y/N learned three surprising things about Draco in the span of that night: one, that in some places his skin felt like crushed velvet under her fingers; two, that he melted in her hands when she pressed her lips to the sensitive spot on his neck; and three, that he had a freckle under his jaw. And on his left shoulder. And at the spot where his thigh met his torso.

“What are you thinking about?” he murmured to her after they’d slumped together, his duvet haphazardly flung over their bodies while his fingers traced patterns on her back.

“I’m just so glad you feel the same way,” she admitted. “I thought I was going crazy over your actions not lining up with your words. It was driving me insane.”

Draco let out a little laugh. “I thought it was painfully obvious.”

“Remember when you tripped up the stairs that time you walked with me after detention?”

“Remember when you tripped up the stairs today?”

“You’re ruining this,” she said sourly as she swatted his chest.

Instead of responding, he just snatched her hand and held it hostage. “I’m not the one resorting to physical violence. Which, now that I think of it, is pretty commonplace for you.”

“Hey! If I hadn’t thrown the york pudding at Pansy, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Draco was silent for a few moments.

“You know I’m right,” she pressed. To her surprise, he shifted uncomfortably under her.

“I’m not so sure,” he finally admitted.

“Huh?” Her features flooded with confusion. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, I’m lucky it worked out like this,” he said hesitantly. “And...so soon. You hated me.”

She sat up, pulling away from his embrace and folding her knees under her. “What are you talking about?”

“I dunno.” Draco refused to meet her eyes, his fingers instead playing with the edges of his sheets. “This is probably stupid, but do you remember the time we brewed Amortentia in Slughorn’s class?”

She nodded.

“You told me that it reminded you of a memory,” he continued, “And that you knew you had to have danced with them at some point.”

“I’m aware.” Y/N blinked down at him as she tried to piece the puzzle together.

He finally flicked his gaze up to meet her eyes. “I guess you don’t remember it, but in fourth year we danced together once. I’d never talked to you before--I knew you were friends with Potter and the like--but I just never really stopped thinking about it since.”

“This is so embarrassing,” said Y/N. “How do I not remember?”

He shrugged. “I think you were a little tipsy at the time. I did, though. I’ve never forgotten.”

“Then why were you so mean to my friends?”

“I stopped for the most part,” he pointed out. “And, if you’ll notice, it was mostly towards Harry.”

“I thought that was because he’s the Chosen One.”

“No, it’s because I could see that he liked you and I was jealous. Eventually I just gave up around 5th year, around when I started dating Pansy. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that I was ever going to be able to be with you, especially not after getting my task.”

“Oh,” Y/N said as she mulled over this information. “My story isn't as romantic. I suppose I’ve always had a little crush on you too, but I was definitely in denial. I just always found you ridiculously attractive and tragically funny considering what you used to support.”

He glowed down at her, pressing the pad of his thumb into her cheek. “Well, I’m glad I can finally give you what you deserve.”

“Me too.”

The weeks began to pass faster after that. Draco never really struck Y/N as a PDA type of guy, but he was surprisingly affectionate. When they began to brew potions together again, he was quick to tuck away her hair behind her ear when she was looking over the cauldron and sent her sweet, private smiles that made her heart flutter. He even sat with her every once in a while at the Gryffindor table when the trio was busy doing whatever they had to do to save the world. Y/N pretended to not notice the whispers that were elicited from her peers when Draco would casually touch her.

They spent as many nights together as they could, but considering how often her friends were giving her dirty looks for stumbling into Potions after not being seen in the Gryffindor Tower for the past day, they had to be reasonable, cutting it down to three or four nights a week.

Y/N treasured every moment she had with Draco, even when they were fleeting and in between classes. She learned everything she could about him--how he was actually terrified of snakes, how he preferred his tea black, how he had an elaborate morning routine he hardly ever deviated from--and committed it all to mind. Her favorite version of him in her head was the way he looked when he was between her sheets, fast asleep with his arms draped over her. Whenever she woke up before him, she tried to memorize it.

He was absolutely ridiculous with the kind of gifts he gave her. Y/N swore that one day she’d wake up to find that he’d bought the British crown jewels because he “saw them” and “just thought of her”. She now had enough Barnaby’s quills to rival the number of feathers on the country’s entire population of geese, but instead of feeling overwhelmed with gratitude, all Y/N could feel was the impending doom that, one day, those gifts would be the only thing she had left of him. He seemed to know this, too.

Draco always found some kind of reason to pull her away and kiss her senseless, whether it be behind a tapestry or in a broom closet when Filch heard them walking around the castle after curfew. In a way, it was like they were just normal teenagers, enjoying the thrill of the moment and acting out. When she thought of it like that, it made the inevitable events seem more bearable; at least they had some time together.

The letter came with no more context than just a simple “Tomorrow.” Y/N knew exactly what it meant--Narcissa Malfoy was going to finally be taken from the manor. Bellatrix needed to be convinced over the next 24 hours to enter the Borgin & Burke’s Vanishing Cabinet as a distraction, and Y/N needed to be sure of her work on the cabinet.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been here,” Y/N mused absentmindedly as she sat in front of the cabinet. Draco’s head rested on her shoulder after recounting all of the changes he’d made. “That was clever, switching out the conductor clasp with a copper fitting.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss into her shoulder. “I’m not totally daft, you know.”

“Of course I know,” she said, her voice dropping into a soft murmur. Fingers pressed into the soft flesh of her thigh as he pulled her onto him. “Draco, I have to fix this first. Then we can do whatever you’d like.”

“Hm,” was all he said, burying his face in her neck once again and letting out a deep sigh.

“Are you worried?”

He was still for a few moments before dipping his head slightly in a nod.

“You’ll be okay,” she promised, winding his fingers through hers. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“I should be comforting you, not the other way around,” he said softly. “I dragged you into this.”

“I pushed myself into this,” she corrected. “And, plus, it’s not my mother on the line. It’s okay to care, you know.”

Y/N got up, making her way towards the cabinet and meeting his eyes once. They shared a knowing glance as she brandished her wand and whispered a quick fracturing spell, sending cracks down the eastern side of the lunar belt. Her hand shook as she shrank back onto the couch until his arms found her shoulders and turned her towards him. “I can’t believe I just...I just did that.”

Instead of responding, he simply sat up straight and delicately pressed his lips to her forehead, his hand coming around to cradle her for just a moment. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Out of here” once again turned into Draco’s dorm room.

“I can’t believe this will all be over tomorrow,” Draco said, his back turned as he loosened his Slytherin tie. “I’m going to be gone by Sunday morning.”

“Yeah.” Y/N tried not to let the lump in her throat garner too much attention at the thought of losing Draco into what was essentially the Order’s witness protection program.

He seemed to notice her uncharacteristic silence, frowning at his reflection before making his way towards her and diligently pressing kisses on her cheeks. Instead of grabbing onto his sleeve cuffs and pulling him closer like she usually did, she just let out a tiny sigh and kept her eyes fixed on the tie slung over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he murmured, moving so she had to look at him.

“Hey.” She sent him a watery smile, hoping that he couldn’t see how close she was to tears.

“What’s wrong?”

Y/N just shook her head, anchoring her bottom lip with her teeth so she didn’t choke up. “It’s nothing.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t pull that with me. I’m not falling for that. I’m going to ask again. What’s wrong?” His hand came up to pull her chin up again so their eyes were level, his eyebrows raised in expectation.

Y/N tried to tell him; she really did. It wasn’t her fault that the most pathetic sounding sob of her life came out of her mouth instead of a confession. Instead of asking any more questions or trying to get her to talk, Draco just pulled her into his arms and held her there, letting her weep into him. His hands came up to rub her back as she struggled to breathe normally.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered, breaking the silence. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“This isn’t about me,” said Y/N miserably. “It’s about you. What if something happens to you while we’re apart? What if I don’t get to see you again?”

Draco made a small sound in his throat, almost like he was holding back a sob himself. “Y/N, don’t worry about me, okay? It’ll all be alright, love. Don’t worry.”

Despite the fact that Draco was doing his best to comfort her, Y/N knew one thing for sure: his word couldn’t stand against fate, and if he were meant to die or disappear during the time that he was hidden away in Italy, there was nothing either of them could do about it.

She turned her head and found herself pressing her lips to his with so much desperation that she hardly even noticed the few stray tears that had made their way down her cheeks. He met her with much more tenderness, his fingers gently brushing away the wetness on her cheeks. For someone as cocky as Draco, he could be so shy when he kissed her, almost like he expected her to change her mind halfway through.

“I don’t want this to be over,” she whispered as she pulled away, leaving the slightest gap between their lips.

He cupped her face, his eyes shining. “It’s not over. We have a few hours left.”

To her horror, another strangled gasp left her lips. Draco had her tucked into his arms in an instant, his lips pressing into her hairline. “It’s not over, okay? I just don’t want to hold you back if you aren’t allowed to see me. Don’t wait around for me.”

“I don’t care,” choked out Y/N. “I’d wait forever if it meant I got to have you.”

“I know,” he murmured. “But it’s not fair of me to expect that from you. I don’t know how long this war is going to last.”

“I don’t care about fairness,” whispered Y/N. “I just want you.”

They spent the rest of the night tangled together in his sheets, just waiting for the morning to come. Neither one got any sleep. Instead, Y/N entertained herself by playing with his hands and asking him questions about his childhood--anything to keep her from remembering what was in store for both of them.

It had been decided earlier that Y/N would have no part in the cabinet plan after they ran the information by the Order. Actually, it was decided that she’d have no part in anything beyond just bringing the situation of Narcissa Malfoy to attention. “It’s crucial to your safety that you don’t connect yourself and by extension our family to this,” one of her father’s earlier letters had read. “Doing so puts you and everyone you love in jeopardy.”

That evening, just as dusk set in, she stood with Draco in her dorm for what was the last time, shaking with unshed tears. He just clung to her for the first few minutes, her head tucked under his chin as his hands were clasped around her back.

“Give me your hand,” he said finally. “I want you to have something.”

She felt something slide on her thumb, her eyes widening as she realized what it was--his family ring.

“Draco…”

“I probably shouldn’t have this on me, anyways,” he explained. “And I want you to have something of mine, something that’s really mine, not just a gift. Just...maybe don’t wear it in public, and if you do wear it as a necklace charm or something. The last thing I want is you to get connected to this--”

Y/N cut off his rambling by pressing her lips to his, his hand feeling oddly bare as it came up to touch her cheek. “If anything happens to you, I love you. I hope you know that.”

He smiled, then kissed her again--so long that it seemed like he was savoring every moment of

it before finally stepping away. “You know I love you. Always will.”

She managed to fit in one last kiss before he left.

Monday turned into Tuesday which turned into Wednesday which turned into the next week. Before she knew it, her 6th year was almost over. Neither Draco nor Narcissa had contacted her. The Order had been cagey about the details leading to the Malfoys--while she obviously had a general idea as to the location of her Italian vacation home and thus by extent the Malfoys, she hadn’t heard anything about their travels there. All she’d heard was the basic news that everyone had--that Bellatrix Lestrange had been found dead and that the Ministry had taken both Fenrir Greyback and Antonin Dolohov into custody with near fatal injuries.

But that didn’t make her miss him any less. Y/N found herself longing for the nostalgic, innocent time when she shamelessly flirted with him in detention and only worried about whether or not the Trio would like her again. It all seemed so long ago.

Falling asleep was the worst. She couldn’t smell the lavender of her diffuser or her room spray without relating it to him, couldn’t slide under her sheets without remembering how it felt to fall asleep in his arms. Around May, Y/N came to the most disturbing realization: she wasn’t entirely sure if she remembered what his voice sounded like anymore. Not in the way that meant she wouldn’t recognize it if he called out to her--she would, of course she would--but she couldn’t replicate it in her mind or replay their interactions with convincing accuracy.

Sometimes, on the nights when she couldn’t sleep at all, she envisioned her last interaction with Draco: his snow blond hair ruffled and his face grim as he turned to leave. Even though she couldn’t hear his voice quite right as he told her he loved her, she remembered the scent of his cologne against her jumper and the feeling of his skin against hers as he slipped his family ring onto her hand. It was killing her that she didn’t know exactly what happened to him. He could’ve been taken by a surviving Death Eater and held hostage at the manor. He could be dead. The papers had printed that he’d been pulled into the Vanishing Cabinet and, true to the name, completely vanished, caught in the space passageway between it and the sister cabinet. She’d known that that was the angle the Order was going to take from the start, but it did nothing to ease her anxiety.

It was even more concerning when she remembered that they’d never agreed upon anything in the future--just simply that they cared about each other in March. At that moment it had been enough. But it wasn’t anymore. All she wanted was for him to appear, give her that stupid wave he sometimes sent to her from across the dining hall when she saw him enter in the morning, and sweep her up into his arms. But that was hard to do when he was countries away.

N.E.W.Ts had been cancelled, much to the dismay of Hermione, so Y/N had even less things to distract her with. Harry was off with Dumbledore doing Merlin knows what to try and defeat Voldemort. She was left with nothing to do but wallow in her own pity.

In early June, days before Hogwarts classes were officially concluded, someone knocked on her door.

“Come in,” mumbled Y/N. While she had thankfully gotten past the habit of crying every day, she’d instead slipped into a sort of anxious paralysis, lying on her bed after all of her tasks were done.

“It’s me.” Ron’s voice made her sit up in surprise. He hadn’t really spoken to her privately since he’d brokered the peace between her and the rest of the trio. “Do you have time to chat?”

“Sure,” she responded, moving over so he had room to sit beside her. “What’s going on?”

“Lavender just broke up with me,” muttered Ron, his hand coming up to brush at something on his cheek. “And I’ve never felt this way before. Is this what it feels like for you? With Malfoy?”

Y/N met his eyes and saw the same kind of hopelessness in them, the edges pricking with tears. “Yeah. I think so.” It was hard to choke back her own sob, so she just hugged him. He smelled of caramel and spring grass.

“Not to be a prat,” he said, “But you shouldn’t waste any tears over Malfoy. I don’t care if he switched sides in the end, he’s still a snot-nosed tosser to me. When this is all over, we’re going out together so we can find you someone better.”

“You know he switched sides?” She pulled back in surprise. Ron sent her a little wink.

“Of course not. I’m not sure why I said that. I’m sure if it was true, it’d be confidential Order information.”

“Who else?”

“Just Hermione and Harry,” he replied in a low voice. “But we weren’t supposed to figure it out--it was an accident over Easter break while we were eavesdropping on an Order meeting. That doesn’t change anything, though. You could definitely do better.”

“And so could you,” she said. “Remember what I said about you and Hermione?”

He laughed. “I’m working on it.”

Her conversation with Ron shed light on something else that had baffled her as of late--the tentative rekindling of her friendship with Hermione. The witch was actually inviting her to study nowadays, making small talk with her despite steering clear of all topics regarding Malfoy and Death Eaters.

The last day of school rolled around before she was ready, the final ceremony being spoken by McGonagall instead of Dumbledore while he was still traveling with Harry. As she got up from her seat in the Great Hall, Hermione grabbed onto her sleeve.

“Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”

So, instead of walking straight up to the Gryffindor Tower on the route they’d used countless times since the beginning of their educational career, they took the scenic route along the Black Lake, away from the hordes of students. They walked the shore quietly until Hermione spoke up.

“Draco needs a tutor to cover what he missed this year.”

Y/N snapped to attention. “What?”

“Narcissa Malfoy has been requesting it and all the professors are busy with Order work,” continued Hermione, not bothering to repeat herself. “They want me to do it. When they ask, I’m going to turn them down and volunteer you instead. Is that okay?”

“Um…” Y/N stuttered. “I’m going to be a pretty shit tutor. Why would you do that for me?”

“I’m going to try and help Harry this summer,” she explained. “And even if I wasn’t, consider it my formal apology. I know it wasn’t right how I treated you this year. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. I just hope you understand why I was hurt.”

“Of course I understand!” said Y/N, reaching out to touch her elbow. “Considering the way he treated you, I can’t blame you for feeling betrayed. I should be the one apologizing. It just...happened the way it did. I didn’t want to fall for him, but I did anyway.”

Hermione covered her hand with her own and gave it a little squeeze. “I know. Do you think we can put this all behind us? I’ve missed my best friend. Ron and Harry have been driving me crazy this term. Ron told me to tell you that you have permission to smack me if I ever say something condescending to you again.”

“Please, let’s. And I think I’d resort to throwing a nice york pudding instead…”

The familiar bittersweet feeling of looking forward to putting school behind her yet dreading leaving her friends consumed her as she filed onto the Hogwarts Express, looking back onto the castle for the last time. She didn’t know it then, but she wouldn’t be returning. At least not for a long time.

“Luna!” she exclaimed as she ran into someone trying to find her seat. The blonde Ravenclaw sent her a dreamy smile.

“You certainly look happier.” Luna tilted her head as she studied her features.

“I never got to properly thank you for this,” said Y/N, “But you absolutely saved me this year. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you in January.”

“You don’t need to thank me for being your friend,” responded Luna. “If you really want to, owl me this summer. I think I’ll miss you quite a bit.”

“I’ll miss you more.” She let her new Ravenclaw friend pull her into a hug before she finally retired to her respective seat next to Hermione, who pressed a package into her hand.

“McGonagall just gave it to me,” she whispered into her ear. “Don’t show it to anyone. I think it’s a Portkey.”

True to Hermione’s prediction, it was a familiar object from her manor--an ornate vase that was normally on display in the main foyer. A piece of parchment was rolled up inside.

Activates at 9am on the 10th of June. Closes 5 minutes after the hour. Do not be late.

Instead of feeling excited to see Draco, all she could feel was her nerves as she stared at the vase in front of her at 8:55 in the morning. It’d been so long since she’d kissed him that she wasn’t even sure if she remembered how. She literally felt as if her virginity had grown back like her leg hairs did the morning after she cast hair removal spells.

And not to mention, seeing Narcissa again--that was terrifying. She’d always been a very intimidating woman, dressed impeccably with sharp, aristocratic features much like her son. Y/N doubted she’d take kindly to her son’s tutor being more interested in him than the actual job at hand.

That assumed he even wanted her still, anyways. Maybe three months in isolation made him come to his senses and realize he’d been absolutely off his rocker for liking her in the first place. Merlin, did he regret it? Was he going to tell her they couldn’t?

Swallowing her worries as the clock chimed at 9, she wrapped her hand around the vase and allowed herself to be pulled across international borders.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. Instead of the florally pine forest that surrounded her family’s main manor, she was greeted with the scent of sea salt and the sound of cawing birds. The sun had long since risen, the temperature a pleasant warmth to her skin after she’d spent a year in the cooler English air.

Y/N stepped forward, towards the looming white structure that she assumed was her beach cottage. Her feet sunk in the sand as she made her way across the beach. Did he even know she was coming then? She would’ve thought he did, considering that anyone approaching the safe house unannounced would no doubt send everyone into some sort of a panic.

Finally, she made it to the front door, tapping her wand on the enchanted knocker to signal that someone was at the front door. It creaked, and all of a sudden she was looking into the silver eyes of Draco Malfoy. He looked less pale than he did the last time she’d seen him, like he’d actually begun to spend time in the sun instead of locked away in the Slytherin dungeons. His hair looked somewhat sunbleached. She could see the faintest beginning of unfamiliar freckles across his nose.

“Hi,” she said shyly, toying with her nails in front of her and not sure whether or not to embrace him. “I’m not sure if you knew, but your mother wanted someone to review the material you missed this year and Hermione didn’t want to, so--”

She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before he crossed through the door, swept her up, and kissed her with conviction.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” he whispered when he pulled away. Her eyes pooled with tears as his voice re-registered in her head.

“I missed you,” Y/N managed. She let her fingers run over his cheekbones and the rest of his face and hair like she couldn’t believe he was actually there in front of her again. “I thought something had happened to you.”

“Something kind of did,” he admitted. “My aunt died.”

“So I’ve heard. Sorry about that.”

“It was her own fault. She brought a dagger enchanted with dark magic and it messed with the energy.” His smile had morphed into something more tense, so she stood on her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, a bit tentative after not touching him since March.

“You were all I could think about,” she admitted. “I’m not going to be much good at teaching you anything because I honestly stopped paying attention after you left…”

Draco’s smile widened, and she felt her legs turn to jelly. “I don’t mind. You were all I could think about, too. If you ever run out of things to teach me…” His fingers ghosted along her jawline as he spoke, “...I’ve had three months with nothing better to do than to think up ways to make up for the time we’ve spent apart.”

As she basked in the warmth of his embrace and the gentle sound of the Mediterranean ocean lapping at the earth, she allowed herself to relax for the first time in months. There was a war on the horizon, her friends were in danger, and her parents were once again risking themselves to aid the Order. But she’d gotten Draco out of his task. They had at least a summer left together. And at that moment, that was enough.

“What are you thinking about?” he murmured, tugging her chin up to meet his eyes once again.

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just kiss me again.”

And so he did.

final a/n: thanks for hanging in there! i hope you guys liked it! first off, apologies if my fluff scenes are choppy or repetitive. i’m not very experienced with writing them yet. also, i decided to write draco this way last minute because i like to imagine him as someone who has never had to actually admit feelings for someone and put himself on the line--instead i think he’d try his hardest to get you to confess that you like him if he’s afraid of messing it up. also if you were confused the quidditch bracelet is supposed to be the magic equivalent of a tennis bracelet lol...when i was shopping w my mom i may have been inspired when i saw those bc literally who wears diamonds around their wrist that cost thousands of dollars every day? i asked the saleslady how much the smallest one was and she was like “only 4k and you can wear it anywhere!” like girl i work a minimum wage customer service job and that shit would break in a few seconds. no i would not wear that everywhere. tennis bracelet rant over but anyways ig i was saying that a tennis bracelet def has draco malfoy energy per se

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco #draco malfoy #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

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