#when love and hate collide fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

five-bi-five-mind · 8 months ago

Note

PLEASE MAKE SUGAR MOMMY!WANDA. It can be when she already left Westview and is now living a lonely life alone missing her children. Then there goes new neighbor R who just left home and is struggling financially OMG!

I loved every single one of your Wanda fics and I'll never shut up about it 👀

Everything Again

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff & fem!Reader

Genre: Smut & Dark-ish fic

Words: 8K+

Summary: Wanda has nothing in her life that brings her joy once she let go of Westview, but then she meets you. She makes sure to be everything you want and need, and you’re all she needs… for a while. But what happens when some of her wants from Westview come creeping back? Can Wanda suppress it or will she do whatever it takes to have everything she wants again?

Warnings: light stalking, not the healthiest relationship, Wanda is controlling, toxic!Wanda, mind manipulation, top!Wanda, bottom!R, rough sex, magic strap-on, slight breeding kink, degradation, magic restraints, light choking, slight dubcon, maybe possibly unknown risk of pregnancy but no actual pregnancy.

A/N: I hate this title but I couldn't think of a better one... Anyways I kinda took a dark turn with this request that's my bad. Enjoy folks!

When Wanda saw you, she knew she had to have you. It was like the stars aligned all of a sudden and a splash of color came into her bleak world for once since leaving Westview. She’d been wandering all over since that… incident. All she felt for months was this horrible, nagging, hollowness and she had no idea how to solve it. Part of her wondered if she filled this void with something to at least stave off the boredom, maybe it would be better. But so far, her only method of occupying her time was figuring out the scope of her power. And every time she dabbled with that it just felt like the hole inside her ripped open even deeper.

She had made her way to a small college town when she bumped into you. Or, more accurately, when you smacked into her, your eyes glued to your phone at the time. When your body collided with Wanda’s she felt anger bubble inside her for a moment and that familiar tingle at her fingertips as she decided how she might act in response to your inconsideration. But when your panicked eyes looked up at hers, suddenly it was like the fuse inside her was doused with ice cold water.

Wanda couldn’t help but smirk at your immediate apologetic response once you realized you were now fully pressed against an utter stranger. At the time, you were so panicked over the email you had just received that you forgot to look up. But when you felt strong hands bracing your elbows as you hit another person’s body like hitting a brick wall, it brought you crashing into reality. The guilt and embarrassment you felt were burning on your cheeks, but the eyes that met yours were only angry for a brief moment. After yours locked with hers they shifted from anger to surprise and then, curiously enough for the both of you, to intrigue.

“I– I am so sorry,” you sputtered as you attempted to take a step back. Key word there was attempted. To your confusion, the woman in front of you didn’t seem to want to let go.

It surprised Wanda too, but not in a bad way. The moment she heard your voice things lit up even more. That splash of color turned into a sea and she didn’t want to let go just yet. Her hands wrapped tighter around your elbows and for a moment she didn’t even care that it could possibly startle you. She just knew that for some odd reason, having you, this wide-eyed, terrified random girl she bumped into on the street, was bringing part of her back to life in a way.

“Are you okay?” Wanda still didn’t let go. If anything, she pulled you ever so slightly closer as she swore she could feel your heartbeat like crazy against her own chest.

“Oh, um, yes.” You again attempted to take a step back. “Thank you, um…”

“Wanda,” she replied and finally dropped her hold on you. It didn’t go unseen– the disappointed frown she had for a moment as you took a wide step back.

“Wanda,” you echoed. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve watched where I was going. Are you alright?” Your head tilted and your eyebrows scrunched as you asked her that and Wanda was taken aback for a moment that you even thought to ask. It had been so long since she was asked anything if she were being honest.

“What made you so distracted?” Wanda ignored your question and chose to ask one of her own. She didn’t even know you, but she realized she suddenly wanted to learn everything about you, starting with what had you so wrapped up in a tiny screen that you ran straight into another human being.

“Oh…” Your eyes dropped to the ground and Wanda took note of the way you shuffled nervously in front of her. “Um, nothing just– It wasn’t something that should’ve distracted me like that. I’m sorry for running into you.” You were trying to go at this point. The way this stranger was looking at you had you anxious and you had no idea why. The fact that she was also asking you this rather than just going on her own way also made you feel self-conscious and scrutinized by the woman before you.

Wanda just blinked back at you, the frown on her face showing yet again for a moment. Your eyes searched hers and the confusion in them grew. Did this total stranger really want to know your business? If you were to say it out loud to her, surely you would seem pathetic. But she still stood, waiting for you to answer what was so important that you completely missed the person standing still as you walked right into her.

“Okay,” you sighed, “I got an email about my funding. I’m a– Or I guess was a student here. My funding got pulled. No funding means no grad school… So I have to figure that out, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence as Wanda just stared down at you. Her facial expression was impossible to read for a moment. It was pensive, almost neutral and you waited for any sort of response to her.

“I’ll figure it out,” you continued for whatever reason. Trying to fill the silence as Wanda just kept staring. “There’s other programs, other schools. I can apply again.”

“I’m sure it will all work out,” Wanda finally said. She put her hand on your shoulder for a moment, trailing it over you as she finally began to walk past you. When her hand left you and she went her own way, you just stood there stunned.

You thought that encounter with her would plague your mind for days, but as if a switch had flipped suddenly that strangeness that was filling your mind faded into nothing.

—---------------------------------

That encounter may have left you utterly confused, but to Wanda it made things so clear. She finally had a plan, something to do. She was wandering aimlessly since Westview with nothing to fill the time. She had said she would find her children again in some dimension, somewhere, but for she had no real leads. She was losing hope, she was spiraling– That is until you bumped into her.

The gears in Wanda’s mind began to turn the minute you confessed to why you were so distracted that fateful day. And ever since then, she was going to put a plan into motion. First, she had to learn just a little bit more about you. But it wouldn’t do if you suddenly left the place she had found you in, so she tweaked some things. Starting with an anonymous donation to your department (of which she found quite quickly from just a few days of watching you) so that they might be able to fund their graduate students– Specifically you– and that you might be able to stay and continue your research and studies while she worked on a way to draw you closer to her.

After a few weeks of watching you, she quickly learned that despite her donation, they didn’t give you enough funding to comfortably live on. You ran from job to job when you weren’t on campus studying and Wanda quickly decided, if you were to be her new fixation, then having multiple jobs would not do. You had her undivided attention, so now she wanted the majority of yours. She decided you could have your studies, but the rest of you… The rest of you she was going to make hers.

It only took her a few more weeks after watching you carefully to approach you again. One thing about her new powers was that, rather than captivating a whole town like she did with Westview, she could easily– and with a lot less catastrophic damage– erase a small part of people’s memories. Namely, their memory that Wanda even existed in the first place. It wasn’t possible for the whole world to forget her, but a small college town she definitely could handle. Just another reason to keep you inside this town and not let you wander much further. With her handle on this new aspect of her own power, she took it one step further with you, erasing the very first day you two met. That day would always replay in Wanda’s mind, but she knew it confused and frightened you and she needed to paint herself in the best light possible when she finally approached you face-to-face again.

It was quite easy to approach you this time too. She posed as a professor in your own university. She twisted and turned the minds of the university until it was as if she had been there a long time. An established part of a university department outside of your own. She knew your schedule too, so she knew that you would always sit at the corner of the university coffee shop for about an hour in between classes. That’s where she finally approached you– or, to be more accurate, she made you approach her.

She almost felt bad about it, but at the same time she knew it would be her way in. She knew your eyes would be buried in a book as you walked to your usual spot and she used that moment to use an invisible force to trip you. And, like the knight in shining armor she wanted to appear to you as, she swooped in front of you and caught you skillfully.

The first look you gave her was back on your face this time too. The panic and embarrassment that burned in your cheeks as you looked up at your savior was evident on your face. Wanda gave you the best, charming smile she could muster, but if you were being honest it made you feel almost as if you were a fly that landed right in a spider’s web.

“Are you okay?” Wanda said the same line to you and you nodded, immediately trying to apologize like last time.

Wanda knew by now that this was your personality. You were shy and anxious, but also patient and kind. All the things that were the opposite of how she considered herself and all the things that had her captivated by you.

“Yeah, I– I’m good,” you again tried to step back and this time Wanda let you. “I’m so sorry! Thank you for catching me. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Wanda chuckled as her hands fell to her sides. “What are you reading? Must be interesting.” The crooked smile she gave you was what finally drew you in. It was charming and warm and the way her eyes sparkled had you wanting to see more. When Wanda took in the wide, curious eyes looking back at her she knew she had you.

And that was really all it took for her to wrap you up in her web and never let you go.

—------------------------------------------------

In the following months things happened rather quickly. After the day you had officially met Wanda, you saw her way more often. She would always sit near you at the coffee shop, or bump into you on other parts of campus, until finally you two established a date. And from that date things happened even quicker. It was like you blinked and suddenly your whole life was wrapped up in Wanda’s. You quickly said goodbye to your rundown, tiny apartment and moved into Wanda’s extravagant house right outside of town. Instead of taking the city bus to and from campus, she was driving you whenever and wherever you needed to go. There was now a lot more free time in your life to focus on both your studies and this new relationship you found yourself in with Wanda, as she had insisted you quit your job. That she would take care of every single one of your wants and needs. And how could you say no to that? Although, it was all a little too fast for your comfort, if you were being honest, but at the same time it was Wanda… You couldn’t picture your life without her from the very moment you met her and she made it clear that she intended for you to never find out what it would be like without her in it.

She took care of you, she took care of everything. You needed only to focus on two things: her and school. Wanda loved the passion you had for studying, so she let you keep one thing outside of her. But she was still near, even if you weren’t aware. She was always near.

But as months stretched on and her attachment to you became even stronger, things shifted a bit. She was feeling… anxious. The life she had back in Westview began to pop up in her mind again and she felt that hole inside her chest once more– The one that you had filled when she first saw you. There was only one part of her Westview life that kept running through her mind though. It wasn’t Vision. No, it was never Vision. Not when she had you. You were a brighter light in her life than Vision ever had been. A deeper love that felt soft and gentle, even if she had orchestrated a lot of events in order to make the two of you happen.

Vision wasn’t what kept her up lately. It was her boys. There were dreams of them, flashes of them in her daily life. It was almost as if the more she loved you, the more she missed them. You had healed this wound, but in the nights that you wrapped your arms around her and fell asleep, she felt that familiar tug she had in Westview– the one that longed for a family. A life of peace and completeness. That made the wound feel fresh again.

So Wanda began to withdraw. She wasn’t going to let you go, but for now, as she contemplated these feelings and how to fix them, she needed time and distance. Each time you smiled at her, each time you kissed her, that tug in the pit of her stomach felt stronger and stronger. The longing grew– The thought of recreating a Westview with you was tempting. But she knew how well that worked out last time.

Late at night when this longing grew particularly strong, Wanda would sneak away when you were fast asleep to contemplate her options. She had hoped that you wouldn’t notice her withdrawal, but when your whole world was Wanda… How could you not?

As these days of dealing with a withdrawn Wanda stretched on, you were getting restless. Something was clearly bothering Wanda and it was causing a rise of anxiety in you. At first you tried to approach it gently, but Wanda iced you out. The problem grew and Wanda warned you not to poke at it, but you couldn’t just leave it be.

With your life being filled with Wanda now– Her withdrawing left you painfully lonely. So you began pushing unspoken limits Wanda set for you. Fights started and time and time again Wanda would shut you down.

The more she did so, the more it felt she was putting you on the shelf. Like you were her little play thing and she was bored of you. There was an ache in you that you didn’t quite understand and the more confusion she left you with the closer you were to being utterly done. How you could even live without Wanda, you weren’t sure, but you were almost a little tempted to figure it out.

There was no way you could ever leave Wanda, though. You didn’t want to, even if she was withdrawn, you still loved her deeply. But you wanted attention, acknowledgement, anything.

Unfortunately for you, the only way you knew how to get that was to push her buttons more and more each day.

You had no idea what was going through Wanda’s mind, but she had been particularly aggravated lately. What you didn’t know was that Wanda was stuck in trying to find the solution to the feelings that were plaguing her. She had played with an idea, but knew that in order to do so she would out her true nature and risk the memories she took from you to come flooding back. What would you do then, if you remembered who Wanda was? Her name was all over the news and the whole world knew she had fallen far from where she was when she helped the avengers. That was so long ago to Wanda. It was a different time, a different her. One that didn’t know her potential and didn’t know her own heart until she finally found all the pieces.

The problem was, she’s never had all those pieces all at the same time. She wanted you and her boys. She wanted the picture perfect family that she had in Westview, but she wanted it with you this time. She wanted you as her little housewife and mother of her twins. In the past week she had been engrossed in ways to make that happen. She had a theory that if she tried to create her children again it would be the same children she once had. All she needed was to share her DNA in some way with you and a little bit of magic to add to that. Then, all would be right in her eyes if she had them in this way. For whatever reason, she felt that that was the true way the universe was meant to be. If she built this family with you, then it would never be taken from her ever again. The tricky part was actually creating them with you in a way that didn’t have you questioning how it was even scientifically possible. That would have you questioning a lot about who she is and what she could do. And she didn’t want to ruin what she established with you just yet. Even if the more you pushed at her the more she was tempted to say let go of her control.

She knew you were getting fed up with it too and the more you pushed her the more she contemplated letting her resolve slip. She tried her best to keep you at arms length while she tried to figure out her predicament. But she was feeling stuck with no alternative other than to reveal herself and what she could do. She kept going in circles to feel less stuck, but the more stuck she felt with this problem the angrier she was. And unfortunately, the angrier she was the easier it was for you to push her buttons.

Unfortunately for the both of you, it only took one final push for her to actually snap. When you thought of Wanda breaking, you thought it would mean she would be forced to talk to you. Never did you expect the outcome of your plans that night.

Your classmates had invited you out for drinks and, since you met Wanda, your answer was usually no. But tonight things were different. Wanda was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn’t pick you on campus. She was kind enough to warn you to take an Uber and she would pay, but you were still angry about it. So when you were invited out, you said yes.

Saying anything other than no would’ve already irritated Wanda. Even a maybe. She didn’t like the idea of you going out to bars, especially without her. Usually if you wanted to do something with anyone else you’d at least ask her and she would be nearby to make sure you were safe and no one was tempted to take advantage of the time she was allowing them to have alone with you. But this time, you weren’t even going to ask. You were just going to go. Something you hadn’t done since before Wanda.

You knew what you were doing. It was all entirely intentional. Right down to the outfit you picked and the way you walked past Wanda, making just enough noise to get some of her attention. Even if she didn’t look up at you.

“Where are you going?” Wanda asked as she flipped a page of a strange book she was reading.

“Out,” you muttered. Even if Wanda wasn’t looking at you, you wanted your tone to register that you were rolling your eyes at her. The fact that she didn’t even look up just pissed you off even more.

“I’m not planning to leave the house tonight.” She still wasn’t looking at you and that just made your hands ball into fists as you got more and more offended by her lack of attention.

“I know,” you scoffed. “I don’t have to go everywhere with you.”

Suddenly, an eerie silence filled the room. You watched Wanda’s face as she kept her eyes glued to the book she was reading. There was a slight change in it, a tightening of her jaw, but she still didn’t look at you.

“You know that’s not how this works,” Wanda’s response was calm, but you could tell you were starting to get to her. Never had you been defiant to her. She gave you everything you wanted and you did whatever she asked. There was an unspoken rule to go where Wanda goes, be where she wants you and an even deeper unspoken rule to not question or defy any of the other arrangements you two have made. But tonight, as you watched her jaw clench and unclench and realized you were getting under her skin, you decided to push more.

“So?” You shrugged and that silent uncomfortable feeling in the room felt like it intensified the very second you uttered that one word. “I don’t see the harm in going out just for one night on my own.”

Wanda’s eyes slowly slid from her book to your face the moment you uttered the phrase on your own. That definitely wasn’t something you should’ve said to her. There was an understanding that anything you did “on your own” was something that Wanda would be nearby for. What you were asking for was a night completely away from Wanda, and it was breaking the biggest unspoken rule she had for you. This was new waters you were treading, but you were so sick of her lack of interest that you didn’t care. Any attention from her was a change from whatever was happening now.

“You’re not going,” she ordered as she snapped her book shut and stood up.

You just snorted at that, anger boiling in your blood as you stood your ground. “Why not? You seem preoccupied with just about anything other than me. What’s the harm?”

She was right in front of you now, her jaw was clenching and unclenching like it had before, but this time you looked down for a brief second and noticed her fists were doing the same. Still, though, you wanted to keep pushing.

“With you dressed like that,” Wanda warned, “I think you know exactly what harm it could do.” You knew what you were doing when you got dressed. A tight, cropped shirt and even tighter short shorts to match. It was something meant to catch the eye of others and definitely something you knew would get an extra rise out of Wanda to add to that. What you didn’t know was what exactly Wanda meant. She was already picturing in her mind the droves of people who would come trying to pick you up at whatever trashy bar you decided to go to. And when she pictured people trying to touch what was hers, she also pictured all the ways in which she could make them suffer so much as daring to think they could have you.

You were playing with fire and on some level you knew that, but something in you couldn’t stop pushing her buttons. Even if you didn’t know what exactly you were getting into, even if you didn’t know to the full extent how possessive Wanda could be of you and how much of a monster she was capable of being when provoked.

“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.” You shrugged again and Wanda’s eye twitched as you kept challenging her resolve. “At least someone will appreciate it.”

If you thought the tension was bad when Wanda stood up, now it was suffocating you. Wanda just stared back at you, her eyes burning with anger. In fact, she looked so angry you swore you saw a red flash in her eyes. For a moment, you kind of just stood there, waiting for Wanda to respond, but on her part she was trying to calm the possessive rage that you just caused to boil over inside of her.

Part of her wanted to force you to your knees and have you beg forgiveness for defying her like this. You hadn’t even done anything yet, but just the idea and threat of disobeying her wishes had her furious. She was so close to figuring out how to have everything she wanted and now of all times you were trying to defy her? Trying to let a pathetic stranger swoop in on you at some dive bar when you know you’re hers? No, this was unacceptable to her. Never have you done anything other than be good for her. The way you so easily obeyed her is a small part of what drew her to you in the first place. And she did realize she had been neglectful, but couldn’t you see it was for your own good? For the good of the family Wanda was trying to rebuild with you? The more she had you the more she wanted. She had you completely already, that was true, but she wanted you in a way she wasn’t sure you were ready for. In a way that would show you exactly who Wanda really was.

So in order to find a solution to the raging beast inside of her that wanted to claim you and have her family back, she thought it was best to withdraw.Clearly she over calculated and now here she was. But as you stood with your arms crossed over your chest, daring her with your eyes to do something, suddenly that’s when all her control just snapped. You felt the shift too, even if you didn’t understand it. It was like the calm before the storm. Wanda took a sharp, deep breath through her nose before exhaling and taking a step into your personal space.

“Okay,” Wanda growled. “That’s about enough.” In a blink of the eye you were thrown over her shoulder. The way you yelped as you felt yourself hoisted off the ground echoed through the room. You knew Wanda was strong, but you didn’t know she was that strong. She had you thrown over her shoulder like it was nothing. Your hands grasped at her shirt, terrified she would drop you at any moment, but it was as if she had no struggle at all.

“Wanda, what the fuck?” You cried as she walked towards the bedroom. With a grunt, you landed hard on the mattress. You couldn’t even begin to sit up before she was already on the bed with her legs on either side of your waist, essentially pinning you down onto the bed with her body.

“Language,” she hissed as she started to pull her own shirt off before immediately reaching for yours.

“How did you- What- When did you get so strong?” You couldn’t collect your thoughts. They were scrambled up by the display of sheer strength and also maybe a little bit by the fact that Wanda was sitting on top of you without a shirt.

“You wanted attention and now you’re questioning how I give it to you?” Wanda’s voice was dripping with irritation as she began to yank both your own shirt and bra off of you.

“I– No, but…” You were now naked from the waist up beneath Wanda. Her eyebrow arched as you struggled to find your words. You definitely knew your little stunt would piss her off, but you didn’t expect this outcome.

“Now tell me,” Wanda’s nails began dragging down your chest as she spoke, “why would you want anyone else’s attention, when I’m all that you need?” Her nails dug down a little harder as they reached your stomach and you hissed at the slight sting of the red marks they left behind.

“Tell me,” Wanda ordered again as her hands made their way back up to your chest. “I give you everything you could possibly want.” The way she was palming at them was rough, but still it had you squirming underneath her. “So why,” she took your nipples between her fingers and pinched just a little harder than she usually would, causing a slight pain as she spoke, “would you ever think about anyone else?”

You winced as she palmed at you even harder, but you couldn’t help the flood of shame at the arousal it sent straight to your core. The way she was handling you, like an object— like something to be owned— was new. Sure she could be intense when she touched you, but she was never intentionally rough like she was being right now. She never purposely caused any kind of pain, even if right now it was mild and (to your surprise) enjoyable.

“It– it wasn’t like that!” You were stumbling over your words as you began to feel Wanda grind down into you. It wasn’t slight or subtle, the way she was moving her hips. She was pressing your body harder into the mattress as she dragged herself against you from where she was straddling your waist.

“Hm, then what was it like?” Wanda’s tone was degrading. She was practically seething on top of you as she spoke. “Because to me it sounded like my little toy wanted someone else to play with her?”

“I–” You couldn’t stop the wince at her harsh words. She had called you that before, but still there was a loving inflection in her voice when she did in the past. This tone she had now, the way she said, it was filled with nothing but rage. “Wanda, I don’t want anyone else. No– No, I… I just wanted you to-“

“Oh look at that,” Wanda interrupted, her tone utterly condescending. “Now you’re trying to cover your tracks.” You watched curiously as one of Wanda’s hands left your body. “I thought you understood when we started that you’re mine. I can’t have a single ounce of doubt in your mind about that fact. Now I need to remind you of who you belong to. Who owns you.” She hissed that word and your eyes widened as you watched her fingers twist and twirl in the air, a red glow following them as they moved. In a blink the rest of your clothes just vanished. Your eyes widened for a moment as you stared up at Wanda. But then, in another flash of red you felt your hands fly up and pin themselves above your head. No matter the struggle, you felt a constant, unwavering invisible force hold your wrists in place.

“Wanda, what— how did you do that?” Your eyes shifted from above you, then to her fingers and finally to her face. Now you definitely noticed the matching red swirl in her irises.

“I think it’s time I properly taught you just how important it is for you to be good, so that we can have everything we want.” If she heard your question she was clearly ignoring it. Your mind was racing trying to keep up with what was going on top of you. Her words definitely confused you too, but you didn’t get the chance to question them again.

Wanda looked down for a moment and saw the look in your eyes before rolling her own and pressing her glowing fingers to your temple. In a split second you suddenly realized exactly who she was. Your heart raced and you gulped, but oddly you weren’t as terrified as you were just shocked.

The Wanda Maximoff was on top of you telling you that you belonged to her. You should be running and screaming for help, or at least attempting to. All the news headlines and stories flooded your memory and you knew exactly how they painted her. She could end you in a second; you should be afraid. But for some reason, you weren’t. Instead, seeing this powerful woman on top of you and thinking back to all the times she told you she loved you, that she would take care of you, that she wanted only you. Knowing the truth, it stunned you, but not in a bad way.

“Are you scared?” Wanda’s tone was still the same, taunting and demeaning as it was before. Only this time, you saw a little beyond that. There was a seriousness there. A curiosity of what your reaction was. Wanda thought if you reacted badly she could just go back to how it was. Wipe your mind of her existence entirely yet again, restart with you, and enjoy the dynamic you two had again. Was it a healthy plan? No. She would have to start from scratch again. Get you to fall for her once more. But Wanda’s obsession with you has gone far beyond the point of return. She would do what was necessary.

As if to purposely test your limits, Wanda reached for your throat, pressing ever so slightly. “Are you?” She repeated as she leaned down to look you in the eye.

You swallowed hard for a second, already feeling the slight strain on your throat as you did. “No,” you breathed out lowly. You weren’t at all. You realized all you wanted was her attention and finally she was giving it to you. Was this secret that kept her so withdrawn lately? “No, Wanda, I’m not.”

You were nervous, but you weren’t scared. No matter what Wanda was before, no matter what she has become now, you were hers from the moment you crashed into her. A memory that was returned to you. If she hadn’t wiped that one, you would’ve still been drawn to her and fallen for her just as hard as you did when she was posing as a professor.

Wanda knew your acceptance was true and took your answer for what it was. This moment right now opened so many doors for her. The void she had been feeling, it could finally be fixed in the way she wanted to fix it. Things in her life were falling into place. As Wanda sat atop of you she finally— for the first time in her entire existence —felt like she was winning. Not once did she ever feel so powerful until this very moment.

“Now that you know the truth…” Wanda trailed off in a low voice. She was thinking aloud more than she was talking to you. Her eyes stayed locked with yours but you could tell she was pondering something. When you saw the now familiar swirl of red in her eyes you began to question what Wanda has in store for you.

“Do you love me?” Wanda now spoke directly to you. Her eyes were still glowing red as her hand finally relaxed against your throat.

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly. Wanda’s face melted at your admission. The harsh, contemplative look she was wearing shifted into a soft smile finally. It was perhaps the first time in weeks she gave you a glimpse of her softness and you reveled in it.

But after just a split second it was replaced with a bigger smile, one that gave you that feeling of being prey caught in a trap again. It was a feeling you weren’t unfamiliar with. And, if you were being honest, you enjoyed the thrill you got from seeing it. “We’re going to try something,” Wanda purred as she sat back up, but remained on top of you. “Something that we’ll both thoroughly enjoy.”

You looked at her with curious eyes, squirming underneath her only slightly as she shifted and began to move between your legs.

“It will give us both what we’ve been wanting,” Wanda continued as she now knelt between your legs, holding them open for her as she spoke. Her eyes raked down your body, from your flushed cheeks all the way down to the wetness that dripped from your thighs. She couldn’t help the satisfied hum at the sight, thinking this might be a lot easier of a task than she thought it would be.

With another swirl of red in her eyes and a matching red shimmer around her twirling fingers, you followed her eyes down as the rest of her clothes disappeared and something materialized. Wanda’s smile grew as something you couldn’t fully see appeared between her legs.

You strained your neck up as best you could from the pillow, but with your arms still pinned above your head it was difficult. You caught what looked like shimmering, deep red straps resting around her waist and could only imagine what those led to.

When Wanda leaned forward and you felt a cool, silicon tip pushing between your folds, your suspicions were confirmed. The contact made the both of you shiver, and as you felt Wanda run the toy slowly from your entrance to your clit and back down, you could see her taking sharp, deep breaths.

“This is going to be… incredible,” Wanda practically hissed. “I’ll be able to feel everything, to feel every part of you when I make you cum.”

Wanda hadn’t even begun fucking you and the idea of it turned you on so much you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped from your lips in a response.

“And then,” Wanda lined the tip up as she spoke, “I’m going to fill you with my cum and hopefully it will work.” With that she pushed forward and you both took a sharp breath at the feeling.

Wanda eased in as slowly as she could while fighting her every instinct to just ram into you and fuck you until she felt you fall apart. But she knew that at least for the start of this, she should go slow. This was, after all, the first time she’s fucked you using her magic. It was the first time she’s fucked you using something this big too. For all she knew, you’ve only ever had experience with her fingers. She didn’t want to break you— not completely. But as her cock sank into you inch by inch she was beginning to slip.

“God this feels better than I imagined,” Wanda hissed as she bottomed out inside you. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

Your teeth were digging into your lip as you tried to stop yourself from crying out from the sheer feeling of being so full. To have Wanda fill your pussy in a way she never has before, it was taking all your willpower not to turn into a moaning, whining mess before she even really began to fuck you.

Wanda’s hips were currently completely pressed between your legs and you were taking her so surprisingly well. You were tight, but the way you squeezed Wanda’s magic strap was delicious. There was a pause for a moment— just a brief second for you to adjust to the size of her toy. But it was all she could manage to give you. The sensation of actually feeling you in this way had her head swimming and she needed more.

She pulled the toy out slowly, so much so that only the tip stayed inside you. Her chest was already heaving as she looked down at you. The way her eyes were filled with hunger made you shiver as you looked back up at her, restrained, helpless, and thirsty for more. Your legs spread open for her even more without her prompting you and she groaned at the sight before her. Your wetness smeared on the parts of the toy that she could see, your arms still pinned over your head. It was all too much. She couldn’t help what she did next. Her hips snapped suddenly and her cock pushed deep into you.

The cry you let out echoed through the room and Wanda swore she’s never heard a prettier sound. Her hips pulled back again until just the tip was left in you. Again she snapped them forward hard, making your eyes screw shut as you cried her name.

“Fuck, if I knew it would feel like this…” Wanda groaned as she began to pump inside you at a brutal pace. Her hands were on your thighs, nails digging into your skin as she kept your legs spread open. Your hands were balled into fists above your head as she fucked you. You couldn’t stop the moans and cries that fell from your lips even if you wanted to.

As Wanda kept fucking you, she fell forward, her entire body pressed against yours, as her lips captured your own. You whimpered into the kiss as her tongue filled your mouth much in the same aggressive way as the way she was currently fucking the toy into you.

Wanda’s hands still had a hold of your thighs as she hoisted your legs over her waist, giving her a better angle to fuck the toy into you. You struggled to keep up with the way Wanda was licking into your mouth and biting at your lips. Her cock was hitting a spot inside of you, you didn’t even know would feel as good as it did. Your knuckles were turning white as your whole body began to shake from the sheer pleasure she was giving you. Even though you felt as if your whole body was on the brink of exploding, Wanda just kept going.

When Wanda began to moan more and more against your own mouth, you knew neither of you would last much longer. Wanda couldn’t keep kissing you anymore, and instead buried her head in the nape of your neck as she hoisted your legs higher onto her hips and fucked you even deeper. Your eyes had rolled back and cries of Wanda’s name fell from your lips nonstop as she picked up her pace.

“I can feel how close you are,” Wanda groaned as she pumped particularly harder into you. “But you’re going to wait. I want you to cum when I do.”

All you could do was whine in response as the sensation of her fucking you made it impossible for you to let out any coherent words.

“You’re going to look so pretty,” she moaned against your neck, “filled up with my cum… and even prettier after.” Wanda’s movements were becoming erratic as she spoke. The words hardly registered to you as she kept fucking you harder and faster.

“You wanna cum, baby?” Wanda purred in your ear. You nodded desperately, your whole body trembling as you continued to take her. Her teeth grazed against the most sensitive part of your neck as she felt you nod and she could feel her own body tremble from how close she was. “Then come with me,” she ordered. Her hips pumped harder into you and after a moment you felt a sudden warm rush of fluids inside you. The sound of moans filled the air even louder than before and you weren’t sure if they were coming from you or her.

The moment you felt her cum inside you, you followed after. Your body arched off the bed and you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Wanda’s forehead was pressed to your bare chest as she came. The way your pussy tightened around her magic cock was intoxicating. Neither of you had felt so good in your entire lives and Wanda made a mental note to fuck you like this often.

When she felt your body finally collapse against the mattress she did the same against you. You realized quickly that your wrists no longer felt restrained, but you kept them above your head either way. Too exhausted to even lift them yet.

“That was…” you couldn’t find the words. You had never felt so amazing on so many different levels than you did tonight. Your body felt spent and sensitive, but all you wanted was more. More of that, more of Wanda, more of everything she had to offer now that you knew who Wanda was.

“Yeah,” Wanda didn’t need to hear you finish your sentence to know she was feeling the same way you were. Her head rested on your chest, listening to your heartbeat begin to slow as you came down from the high Wanda gave you.

“Can we… do it like that more?” Your face was flushed as you asked.

Wanda lifted her head and gave you a beaming smile. To anyone else it would be dazzling, but curiously, to you it gave you that feeling again— the one where you were nothing but a sheep caught in a wolf’s clutches.

“Of course we can, baby,” Wanda purred as she looked up at you. “As many times as it takes.”

The word choice was odd. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at the woman on your chest. Her eyes were dark as she looked back up at you and something about the way her fingers traced up and down your stomach made you shudder.

“As many times as it takes?” You echoed Wanda’s words back to her as a question, but she just gave a small hum of agreement as she placed a few kisses on your skin.

“Until I have everything that I want again.” Her voice was low suddenly, almost threatening. You looked down at her eyes and saw how they darkened as she continued to trace her fingers against your body. “And nobody will take it from me again.”

Her words felt like a threat to an invisible entity. You knew it wasn’t directed towards you, you had no idea the source. But you knew she was serious, even if you didn’t quite understand why. Her words felt as much as a threat to someone as they did a direct promise to you.

As Wanda laid on your chest and recovered some of her strength she thought about how she was one step closer. She could have her perfect family; her happiness. She didn’t need to control a whole town, she didn’t even necessarily need to control you. Once you did understand, she knew you would be accepting. Shocked, maybe, but ultimately accepting and even happy to build the dream Wanda had. She would have her boys, she would recreate them again with you. And then it would be the four of you, forever.

For your part, you didn’t know what Wanda meant exactly. It wouldn’t be until later that evening, when Wanda decided you recovered enough to go again, that you put the pieces together and realized exactly how magic Wanda’s new toy was. She was right in her assumption of your reaction, shocked but accepting. Just like the good girl she knew you would be. Whatever Wanda wanted, you decided you would give it to her, knowing she would do the same. Wanda was one step closer to her happiness and it finally felt as if she was building it on solid foundations. There would be no one to take you from her, no one to stop her from building a life again with you. And there was a silent, chilling understanding between the two of you that if anyone were to ever threaten her happiness again… they would not get very far.

Taglist: @geekyandgay98 @desperate-gay @high--power @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @natashamaximoff69 @natashasilverfox @lovelyy-moonlight @jareguiromanoff @dj-bynum3718 @noahrex @simpforlizzie @taivantaylor @mrsmothermaximoff @storiesofsvu

Join the taglist here

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #marvel fic #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #five-bi-five-mind #wanda maximoff x fem!reader

2K notes · View notes

afterglowsainz · 2 months ago

Text

blood on my hands | alex albon

pairing: singer!reader x alex albon, reader x ex!taylor fritz

summary: after your ex-boyfriend cheats on you, you get invited to a formula one race and find someone to move on with

fc: dua lipa

a/n: very delayed (as always) birthday fic 🎉 (i also wanna say i don’t hate taylor fritz okay it might seem like i do based on the comments on this story but i don’t😭)

—

liked by arianagrande, taylor_fritz and others

yourusername it’s always lovely here 🎾🗽

view all comments

username ugh

username the day she dumps him will be the day we cheer

username god when i asked you for y/n to be a wag this is not what i meant

username she’s everything 😍 and he’s there

username ignore him she looks incredible

username the most beautiful ever 💞

username i lowkey like them together idk

liked by ynupdates and others

tennisgossip taylor fritz was seen this weekend very cozy with a model without his girlfriend

view all comments

username he WHAT.

username no way he cheated on her

username how do you fumble THE y/n y/l/n ????

username don’t worry guys i’ll deal with it ✂️✂️✂️

username bring back public humiliation

username i regret everything i said i actually hate him

username y/n you don’t deserve this 😭

yourusername’s instagram stories

[caption 1: 🎙️] [caption 2: 😁]

liked by oliviarodrigo, taylorswift and others

yourusername in good company 💗

view all comments

username see how she’s glowing now that she’s not with #that man anymore

username her light is back

username and she’s at the studio again!

username beautiful 💘

username i am actually in love

username y/n give me one chance i promise i won’t cheat on you 🙏🏽😩

tatemcrae mother! (liked by yourusername)

liked by alex_albon, yourusername and others

williamsracing the garage look this weekend 💙

view all comments

username this insane crossover

username the erasure of carlos just to include y/n 😭

username priorities

username oh williams admin i know you're a fan

williamsracing 🤭

username y/n showed up at the garage and they both locked in!

username they had to impress her the pressure was on

yourusername sooo fun 🩵

williamsracing we loved having you y/n!

yourusername’s instagram stories

[caption 1: an appropriate grand prix outfit] [caption 2: 🏁🏎️]

liked by taylorswift, alex_albon and others

yourusername actual footage of us creating my new song “it’s ok, i’m ok” (which you can go stream right now!!!)

view all comments

username his ex was found dead on a ditch

username she killed him with this one

username no. words.

sabrinacarpenter on repeat 24/7 (liked by yourusername)

username absolute BANGER

username “i don’t want him, anyway, girl take him” Y/N !!!!!!

username absolute criminal behavior i support it

username you tell ‘em ‼️

[yourusername’s instagram stories] [alex_albon’s instagram stories]

[caption 1: pintssss] [caption 2: 📍london, uk]

liked by f1gossip, f1wags and others

ynupdates y/n was seen this weekend in paris with formula 1 driver, alex albon

view all comments

username with whom

username this is gonna do numbers on pinterest

username girl whattt alex albon ????

username how is HE pulling HER

username okay mr. albon i was not familiar

username my two worlds colliding what 😭

username god this 👆🏽 is what i meant when i said y/n should be a wag

username this is an interesting hard launch ?

liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon and others

yourusername having too much fun lately … 🎶🍺

view all comments

username girl when are we getting the new music i already know it’s ok i’m ok like the back of my hand 😔

username dare i say … new album?

username i love her

username now the question is is it gonna be a heartbreak album (t*ylor) or a love album (alex)

username we don’t even know if they’re together anyway it might be a fling

username or … or …. they might just be friends

alex_albon 🙏🏽 (liked by yourusername)

username having too much fun alright

liked by yourusername, francolapinto and others

alex_albon sightseeing 🍎

view all comments

username ho is you the sight?

username quick what’s in new york this week!

username no way he’s at the us open 😭

username alex are you dating y/n i promise i won’t tell just like this comment if you are i just wanna know

username okay y/n i kinda see it

username i’ve been saying thissss

username finally some appreciation 🙌🏽

yourusername 🤲🏽 (liked by alex_albon)

username why are they speaking in code

[yourusername’s instagram stories] [alex_albon’s instagram stories]

[caption 1: what the sign says]

liked by f1gossip, ynupdates and others

tennischannel singer y/n y/l/n and formula 1 driver alex albon today watching the wta semifinals at the us open!

tagged yourusername and alex_albon

view all comments

username well if this didn’t confirmed it i don’t know what will

username they’re soooo dating 😔

username i have a feeling taylor felt them in the air and that’s why he lost his match lololol

username can you be anymore auraless

username they weren’t even watching his match and he still managed to lose 😭

username they might’ve broke up but her presence will haunt him forever or whatever stevie nicks said

username i’m so glad she’s still able to enjoy tennis with her new boyfriend 🥰

username right i would’ve been so pissed off if that man ruined it for her but she seems unbothered

username unbothered queen 😘

liked by alex_albon, carmenmmundt and others

yourusername mood cause “bloodonmyhands” is out on the streets (go stream itttt) 😇

view all comments

username girl-

username you know what, hell yeah

username this song is so addictive omg DANCE LIKE I CAN’T BE BOTHERED

username the way she basically admitted alex hates taylor … girl same

username he’s a real one

carmenmmundt loved! 💗 (liked by yourusername)

username the aesthetics of the video ?? hello miss ??? who was that on the helmet

username i might have an idea 😅 (liked by yourusername)

username y/n ??? explain 😭

username getting prettier by the second

username she ended taylor and praised alex in once sentence and honestly, preach

alex_albon 😍 (liked by yourusername)

username oh they’re not speaking in code anymore i see

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63 and others

alex_albon blood … on … my … hands? 🩸

tagged yourusername

view all comments

username i knew it was him

username you can teeeell

username Y/N 🥰🥰🥰

username prepare to have the fight of your life alex

username omg i love y/n hiiii girl

yourusername thank you for being on the video you were brilliant 😽

alex_albon loved it ❤️

username ADJSJASK plssss

username never in my life i thought of a pair like this but yeah why not

username love them💘

1K notes · View notes

crescentofthegods · 3 months ago

Text

DISSIPATION!

pairing: draco malfoy x muggleborn!slytherin!fem!reader

request: devastion overwhelmed you completely once you witnessed how draco, your boyfriend, was unable to defend you after his friend called you a mudblood.

word count: 2,472

warnings: ANGST, swearing as usual hehe, goyle being a cow, draco being a DICK and also calling reader a mudblood but its for your own good woah, a bit of fluff before the angst but there is NOT a happy ending, all this goes down on reader's birthday, unfortunately not proofread again (it's 1am in the uk im SORRY)

author’s note: i looooved writing this request, goodness gracious me. HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANON, i put my own little twist in it if you dont mind, draco DOES call reader a mudblood towards in their argument dw<3 also theres a little easter egg from one of my other fics, youre a real one if you notice hehshhs

more draco malfoy | navigation

IN THE SPAN OF SIX MONTHS, your private friendship with Draco had blossomed into something more beautiful—a real relationship where you got to call him your boyfriend. However, there was a downside to the two of you dating… Draco made you promise that you wouldn’t tell anyone; you knew deep down that this should’ve been a red flag, that if he really loved you, he wouldn’t be afraid to tell anyone about you, about your love.

Too bad that your naivety got the better of you.

Sitting on the cold, stone floor of the Astronomy Tower, you tried to stifle your sobs of despair, but it was no use. Tears of your turmoil trickled down your cheeks like the waterfalls you always adored gazing at whenever you went hiking with your parents—today wasn’t the special day you had planned it to be.

After all, it was your birthday. Your seventeenth to be precise.

You weren’t expecting a lot, in all honesty. Just a day of happiness, spent with your closest friend… and even your boyfriend, Draco. Most of all, he had promised you—

“I can’t believe I turn seventeen in a few days,” you whispered, more to yourself if anything as you burrowed into your beloved boyfriend’s chest, hiding away from the rest of the world… The tips of his fingernails slowly traced a line up your spine, creating a rather ticklish sensation, your quiet giggles sounding like the vocal music of the angels in Draco’s mind. He brought you closer (you didn’t think that had even been possible, not with how close you both already were) his arms wrapping tighter around your waist, his chin making a home in your many locks of hair.

He had snuck you into his dorm. Since you were both in the same House, it was easier said than done—Theo and Blaise decided to attend class for once, so Draco took his chances.

“Mhm,” a small smile touched his lips as he hummed, his grey eyes peering at you—he had always cherished how you fit so perfectly against him. Like he was made for you, and you him. “I bought you something, actually.” Though, as soon as those words left his lips, he immediately regretted saying them in the first place, seeing how you sat up within an instant, your wide, bright eyes meeting his.

“What?—Why? You know I hate it when you buy me things,” you frowned, though it looked more of a pout in Draco’s eyes, his small smile widening into an amused grin.

“And why is that? Am I not a good enough gift giver for you?” his teasing voice prompted you to roll your eyes, the heel of your hand colliding with his chest, almost like you were shoving him playfully.

“No, you always buy really… expensive things—don’t your parents wonder where the money’s going?” you asked, your tone sounding a little more serious now. He hated how concerned you grew whenever it came to the people in his life—but, it was basically his fault. Sometimes, he thought about how it would’ve been better if he’d decided not to pursue this relationship with you.

But, for once, he wanted to be more selfish than usual. Everyone that feared Draco seemed to conclude that he always got what he wanted, but that was not the case.

He got lucky with you.

“Don’t worry about my parents,” was all he said; his expression didn’t say much, but you could tell he didn’t want to continue this particular conversation. Initially, your heart dropped, worried that you had overstepped a boundary—though, the way his fingers intertwined with yours, the way his thumb rubbed the gentlest of circles across your skin… it caused your anxious feelings to dissipate.

They never really go away. They just… stick to the surroundings. Hence why your inner voice used the term ‘dissipate’. Your mind always knew better than your soul, always two steps ahead…

“Can you at least tell me what the gift is?” your question was much more softer this time, smiling because of how warm he made you feel—how warm his hand felt against yours. You wanted to ask another question; something that probed at your mind recently was how he always wore long sleeved shirts around you now. It wasn’t a problem entirely, it merely sparked worry inside you. In spite of that, you supposed that attempting to ask would only push him away.

Draco was confusing in that sense. Your love for him, however, overpowered that.

“Of course not, my heart,” murmured Draco, his grey eyes twinkling with his usual charm. Using that nickname that always made your soul melt like fresh honey. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

“You’re the bloody worst,” you groaned, his deep chuckle flipping your organs inside out as you collapsed against him once again, snuggling into the cotton of his grey jumper.

Tell me about it, was what he wanted to reply, but he stopped himself. It was a happy moment. A moment of peace for once in his fucked up life. He wouldn’t ruin it.

Not with you, the only person who believed in him.

—That was before you stumbled upon a conversation with Draco and his friends today. Being a Muggleborn sorted into the House of Slytherin was clearly a set up from bloody Merlin himself. Unsurprisingly, you had more friends outside of Slytherin; a lot of the Hufflepuffs, thankfully, were sympathetic to your situation. That afternoon of your birthday, you had walked out of the girls’ dorms, relieved that you had found your Transfiguration homework, heading straight towards the Common Room…

And, that was when you heard it.

Gregory Goyle saying your name.

“What are you so hot and bothered about?” Crabbe nudged Goyle, seeing how visibly peeved the latter appeared to be after exiting the boys’ rooms. Draco wasn’t particularly interested in the conversation after his little… rendezvous at the Room of Requirement. He simply sat in an armchair, playing with his silver bracelet.

It had a butterfly charm, actually. Your middle name, translated from Latin, meant ‘butterfly’. For your birthday, which was today, he had bought you a dragon charm since ‘Draco’ meant ‘dragon’ in Latin. However, you wore yours on a sterling chain around your neck, wanting it to be hidden—no one would believe that you could afford something like that.

“Snape teared me a new one,” he grumbled, plopping himself down onto the velvety green sofas with a huff. Crabbe pulled a face.

“You mean tore—”

“—Shut up. Anyway, he saw how shitty my grades were and now he’s forcing me to get a tutor! Fucking unbelievable,” Goyle muttered under his breath, running a hand through his extremely thin curls, leaning his head back as Crabbe replied.

“Nothin’ wrong with that. I’m being tutored too,” he shrugged, sitting beside him as he fiddled with his watch. Releasing an irritated ebb of air, Draco also leaned his head back, wondering how long he was going to endure this pointless discussion.

“You’re not being tutored by that mudblood, [Y/L/N].”

That was when you heard it. Standing under the doorway that led towards the Common Room. It was nothing new, being insulted with that term. Nevertheless, your eyes fell on Draco, seeing the way he picked his head up slightly at the mention of you.

You waited. For a good few moments. Hoping. Praying that he would defend you.

And, a few seconds later, he laughed, bearing his pearly whites and all.

“Yeah, good luck with that. She’s a real fucking brown noser, that one.”

By that point, your mind was blocking out every sound that followed Draco’s words—you made a run for it, not even bothering to look at your so-called boyfriend, dashing out of the Slytherin Dungeons before fleeing to the Astronomy Tower. You had tried to keep it in, your tears, your sorrow—it was all too much.

To make matters worse, he had fucking followed you. As soon as he made sure that his lackeys couldn’t question him, he’d tried to catch up to you, but you were always the quicker one. If you weren’t so obsessed with academics, you’d make a real good Chaser for the Slytherin Quidditch Team.

There Draco Malfoy stood, watching your hysteric sobs consume you, your head in your hands—he knew that you’d be upset; in fact, he knew you’d been listening the entire time. He noticed you before you had even become the topic of conversation.

He always noticed you.

And now, you had noticed him. Your gaze lifting momentarily, only for it to widen at the sight of your boyfriend standing there with the blankest of expressions. Sniffling to yourself, you stood up from your seat on the ground, your expression one of clear torment.

Anger. Anger consuming you because you didn’t know why you were putting yourself through this. Dating one of the richest Purebloods a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. When you were only a measly Muggleborn. A Mudblood.

Even so, the same weight of dissipated dejection weighed over you. Why did he ask you out? Why did he become friends with you in the first place if this was how he saw you? If this was how it was going to be? Him pretending to care about your blood status in front of his good-for-nothing friend group.

Maybe, after all this time, it wasn’t a pretense. Perhaps this was a prank he’d instigated just to humiliate you.

Numerous possibilities. Numerous outcomes. They all filled your head like snakes in a vat of thick, torturous tar.

Your voice broke the silence.

“I don’t understand you,” your first statement filled the atmosphere like a hot vapour, suffocating not just you, but the other person in the room—Draco. Your tears had stopped, cheeks still wet with your misery as you stared at him, not just with passionate feelings of indignation, but more so disbelief. And he couldn’t handle it.

I should’ve done this earlier.

“Really?” His voice was quiet. Almost noiseless, like he was calculating the best way for this to go. “I don’t think you’ve ever understood me, my heart.”

That nickname. The nickname reserved for you and you only. There was once a time where it would make your insides all warm and fuzzy, where it would make your soul melt like honey. Now… now, it felt like molten; searing, dripping lava scorching your insides, burning you—destroying you from within.

Those anxious feelings, the ones that dissipated. They came back.

“Seriously?” you scoffed, blinking away the fresh saltwater that threatened to spill from the very crevices of your heart. “Was all of this just some cruel joke to you? Our friendship? Our relationship?”

Silence.

Silence, silence, SILENCE—

“Oh, don’t go all quiet on me now,” you muttered with a breathless chuckle, stepping forward, only to shove him where it would hurt the most—slamming your heel against his chest, where his heart would feel its impact. He certainly did with the way he turned his head to the side, unable to look at you. “You planned this to embarrass me, didn’t you? You never loved me, all these stupid gifts—” you reached inside your shirt, only to rip the sterling chain from your neck, throwing it at him— “It was all fake?! It was for YOUR enjoyment, wasn’t it, Draco?”

No.

“Of course it fucking was,” he finally snapped, glaring at you with those grey eyes—you swore that they had been brighter once, that they had sparkled in the sunlight during those ever so secretive moments in his dorm. Regardless, it was now darkness that devoured those orbs you always pined after. Depravity. Hatred.

All over a blood status.

“You’re a mudblood, [Y/N], you’ll always be a fucking mudblood—why can’t you get that through your insipid brain of yours?” he was seething now, catching you completely off guard as he grabbed your shoulders, staring into those wide, dimmed eyes that used to glow every time you saw him.

“Theodore gave me the idea, you know?” Lies, lies, lies. “Told me to mess with you a little since no one else would dare touch such… such scum,” he laughed—he was fucking laughing. Watching as more tears rolled down your cheeks, like it was automatic. Two natural waterfalls crashing into the warm chambers of your coveted core. “I mean, come on, love—I thought you were smarter than this,” his taunts overwhelmed you like a vice, his grip on your biceps tightening, wanting to hurt you as much as he could—needing to, so you could walk away.

“You’re just as delusional as the rest of them,” scoffed Draco, his lips, the same lips that locked with yours in the early hours of the morning, holding a barely perceptible smirk, clearly proud at how broken you looked. How utterly devastated you appeared before him. Glass-like tears decorating the apples of your cheeks like diamonds on a dress, eyelashes wet with absolute desolation—the contentment that had embraced you like a blanket earlier today had vanished in less than seconds.

All because of Draco Lucius Malfoy.

“Probably shouldn’t have led you on for so long, huh?” he murmured gently, like he was complimenting you. Like this wasn’t eating you up completely; terrorising you. His calloused fingers cupped one of your delicate cheeks, his thumb swiping across your skin to wipe those tears away, the ones you had fought so hard, but had escaped your crevice anyway. A whimper of sheer melancholy was all you could respond with, crying to yourself—your entire life was a lie.

“Fuck you, Malfoy,” you whispered, shaking your head from his almost-soothing grasp, stepping away once again, feeling rotten to the core. Your eyes met his for a final moment, your bottom lip quivering, as well as your entire body—like you were cold, frostbitten. Betrayed. “We’re done. I hope I never see you again.”

With that, you shoved past him, your hushed weeps trailing after you as you fled the tower, leaving your ex-boyfriend alone in the tower. Leaving him with his deprecating thoughts.

She wasn’t worth it.

Father wouldn’t have approved.

MUDBLOOD.

Swallowing the painful lump that grew by the second in the confines of his throat, Draco’s eyes landed on the sterling chain at his feet—the one that he had gifted you only this morning. Holding the dragon charm. Holding him. He bent down to pick it up, seizing it like it was the most delicate thing he had ever felt; and it only held that title because it was purely yours. His heart was yours and yours only.

“Don’t worry, my heart,” he murmured to himself, the ambient glow of his Dark Mark resonating through the rich cotton of his shirt. His thumb brushing over the silver scales of the charm with an utmost gentle manner. “You won’t.”

#𓂃crescent.✩‧₊˚#𓂃luna’s requests.✩‧₊˚#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy angst #slytherin reader #muggleborn

500 notes · View notes

eevees-hobbies · 1 year ago

Text

Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time!

This is a response to this anon request: Hii can i request wind breaker boys : bofurin and shishitoren with a reader that love to flirt and hard to flustered although they tried to do it back? Thank you

Author’s Note: Thank you, Anon, for being my first Wind Breaker request! I feel like we were on the same wavelength because I was planning on doing a flirt fic/headcanon, but you beat me to it! Unshy and bold is how I like to write my readers, too!

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Characters. Not smut but highly suggestive in some parts. Use of the word slut in the beginning background piece, a brief examination of the word and scenarios in which it’s weaponized. If you’re not into that, feel free to skip that part. But I’ve seen what some of you all are into and seen some of those reblogs—you know who you are, so spare me. You’re also a major flirt. Like, you’re at a 10 on the flirt scale. Go, you! Nothing too explicit, but here’s what we’re working with: mention of panties in Sakura’s. Kaji needs to learn to keep items inside of his mouth…unless? Suo intends to punish you so pick a god and pray. Hiragi needs you to chill out…but say more, please. Umemiya is too shy to ask you to call him Daddy (please call him Daddy). Togame tells you what you’ll be sitting on by the end of the night (also mention of alcohol in his). Nirei is a cute little bean <3. Minors Don’t Interact.

As always, I appreciate comments, reblogs, and likes. Requests are as open as my legs are for Haruka Sakura’s dick.

Word Count: 2.8K

Dividers by Saradika. Story banner by me.

Background: How You Got Here

You’ve always hated the word ‘slut’

It’s not that you wouldn’t personally consider yourself one. Depending on your ideologies, reclaiming the word can feel liberating and you find that to be true for yourself.

You consider yourself to be naturally flirty, sexy, bold, and charismatic. You can also be a bit of a tease and have slut-like-tendancies in the bedroom, so, sure, a slut. And for the right person or people, if you’re feelin’ nasty, you’re willing to be whatever they want you to be.

You’ve just grown to hate the word because slut is often used to mischaracterize a woman that men often can’t understand.

They can’t, or choose not to, understand a woman who is vocal about who she wants and how she wants it.

They call women sluts who do the chasing.

They call women sluts who fuck on the first date.

They call women sluts who don’t fuck on the first date.

The word slut has lost all meaning.

Patriarchy issues aside, this wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t also have a mouth on you. So when some low-life-loser cat calls you from across the street, asking if you got a man and then calling you a slut because you chose not to answer in front of his five loser friends, you turn around and yell, “Sorry, buddy! Experiencing disappointing sexual experiences isn’t on my bingo card for tonight!”

“What the FUCK did you just say to me?”

And contrary to what some may say, you aren’t fucking stupid. You know what happens to women when a man hates them and decides that you’re the object of their rage.

So, you often find yourself running in situations like this. Running until your lungs are about to explode and the only thing keeping you going is adrenaline and the fear that that word—and your mouth—might get you snuffed out.

You’re looking over your shoulder as your assailants close the distance, painfully aware that this can’t go on for too much longer when you collide with someone’s chest. Strong hands grip your arms, anchoring you in place.

You look up, expecting to see one of the men from the group but you’re instead taken aback by the stranger in front of you. He seems like the kind of boy you’d let call you a slut—-his close-mouthed smile disarms you, and even though it doesn’t reach his eyes, you’re almost certain he’s someone you can trust. You don’t have too many options right now, anyway!

His tassel earrings swing as he raises his head from looking down at you, and his eyes follow the sound of running feet emerging from the alley.

“Oh? You look like you could use some help. Stand over there for me?” He tilts his head when asking you the question, but part of you feels like he’s not really asking, so you nod and watch with bated breath as the young man methodically mows down every one of the men.

Afterward, he turns to you, pristine and perfect, “I can’t let you walk home alone after that.”

“Sure,” you say, taking his outstretched hand. What’s your name? I have to know the name of the person who just saved me.”

“Oh, I guess that’s a fair point. My name is Hayato Suo. It’s nice to meet you despite the circumstances.”

It’s not long after that event that you fall into the protection of the Bofurin & Shishitoren men; your natural charisma quickly gets you in their good graces and earns you a special spot among their ranks. You give off mascot vibes—if mascots were cute and didn’t have gigantic, scary bodies!

Hanging out with them means being yourself without experiencing judgment or retribution. Your laid-back persona and flirting are met with laughs, blushes, and even sometimes flirtation in return. You’ve never felt more at home than with them.

Haruka Sakura

Flirting with Haruka Sakura is like flirting with a brick wall; either he notices and chooses to ignore the situation as his face turns a crimson red, or he’ll yell at you for being a pervert in public. And both of those reactions are equally cute, so when one day you’re sitting at a booth at Cafe Pothos—-with Sakura, Suo & Nirei—-you decide that this is the perfect environment to get him riled up.

You gently knock your shoe against Sakura’s, which earns you an eyebrow twitch as he continues to shovel food into his mouth. Oblivious as always.

You do it again to prove that it wasn’t an accidental nudge. Sakura’s eyes shoot up to yours, frantic because this is something you would do. His eyes are met with your innocent smile and subtle shoulder shrug.

As you all continue eating (excluding Suo, who enjoys a cup of tea), you gradually move your foot up his leg until it rests between his thighs. Sakura is trembling like a leaf, eyes darting between the faces of your friends, who could very well notice that you’re trying to get him to play footsie under the table. What if they notice?

The meal concludes; Suo and Nirei exit the restaurant, and you and Sakura linger for a bit. Part of you hopes that he’ll call out your behavior, but he’s doing his best eye-avoidant routine. As you rise to leave, Sakura stops you, grabbing you by the hem of your sleeve and pushing you into the last booth at the back of the restaurant, where the line of sight is blocked.

Sakura climbs on top of you, your bodies crammed into the leather booths in a way that feels deliciously intimate. His hands are holding your arms at your sides, and his knee settles in between your thighs—and you are now more than ever painfully aware of how high your skirt has bunched up as his knee is dangerously close to brushing up against the seat of your panties.

“Y-you can’t control yourself in public, can you!?” Sakura practically spits out. He’d sound angry to anyone else, but that’s not what you see in his eyes.

You look up at him, mesmerized by his vulnerability and the proximity of his well-placed knee. "Do you want me to stop, Haruka?”

He again avoids eye contact with you, but the way he bites his lip gives him away, “No, I-i didn’t say that.”

Akihiko Nirei

“Have you added anyone else to that book of yours, Nirei?”

Nirei beams at you. You’re one of the few people who takes an interest in the compendium of facts and stats he’s collected about the others. He flips through the pages and starts pointing out information he’s added since you’ve last spoken.

You nod along, taking a genuine interest in what he says; you barely notice your hand moving up to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen out of place. His cheeks tinge pink, and he stutters as he continues to read to you.

After he’s done hyper-fixating, a comfortable silence sits between you.

“What do you have about me?” you say, leaning closer to him. You’re teasing him; you don’t exchange blows like the subjects in his journals, so there’s no practical reason for him to collect information on you. That’s what you think until he reaches into his back pocket and brandishes a small notebook with your name on the front.

“I-i uh have the basic demographics, but uh…still need the more personal things like your favorite color and food.”

“What about my bra size?”

“B-bra….” The pencil in his hand snaps, and he looks everywhere but at you. “I uh… s-sure! I’ll take that if you’d like me to!”

You laugh; you genuinely find him endearing. “I’m kidding! We haven’t even had our first date yet, Nirei!”

He looks at you, pulling out a new pencil from seemingly nowhere. “Well, once I find out what food you like, I’ll add the anniversary date of our first date here, too.”

Ren Kaji

Flirting with Kaji feels dangerous, but you do you, friend. You, as an individual, and the way compliments flow easily from your lips makes Kaji uncomfortable, and he admittedly doesn’t understand why someone as gorgeous as you gives him the time of day. It isn’t until you somehow become closer that the absence of your flirting with him sets off blaring alarm bells.

Are you ok?

Who did this to you?

Who does he have to kill?!

As you thumb through the vinyl at your local record store, you feel a bump against your shoulder. You look up and see your favorite platinum blond guard dog; his headphones are settled around his neck, heavy metal pouring from the earphones. His piercing gaze is a clear indication that you might be in trouble. Oops.

“You mad at me or somethin’?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Mad? Why do you think that?”

“You haven’t been pestering me lately, and it feels…odd.”

You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, even with the round sucker placed snugly in his mouth.

“Ohhhhhh, no, Kaji! I was giving you a break, but if you insist on flirting, how about-”

“Shut up,” he pulls the sucker out of his mouth and presses it against your lips, watching as you purse your glossed lips and kiss the candy. Neither of you breaks eye contact; an unspoken threat between you dares the other to yield first. His eyes narrow as you poke your tongue out and stroke the sides with intentional, slow licks.

“Tch!” he turns quickly, marching away from you. Despite his back being turned, you can tell by the way his arm raises that he’s now placing that saliva-soaked sucker in his mouth.

Hayato Suo

Suo might be one of two people on this list who might be a worthy opponent for you. How do you flirt with someone who is perpetually unbothered? Good question! I see your flirting as back-and-forth quips, playful jabs at one another that get increasingly sexual and oddly specific throughout the day.

If you meet up with the group and one strand of your hair is out of place, Suo chirps, “Bedhead, huh? What were YOU doing last night?”

If you see Suo break a sweat after an intense fight, “Wow, Suo! You really need to work on your stamina. I can imagine a few ways to help with that.”

Sure, it’s all in good fun, but there’s a sexual undertone to it all; between the smiles and sarcastic comments, you’re both participating in your special version of foreplay, and you have never been more turned on.

Everyone around you thinks you should get a room, and as sunset approaches, you two do exactly that.

“Ready to work on that stamina, Suo?” you chide as you push him against the wall in your apartment. You know you’ll pay for man-handling him later, but that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?

His earrings sway back and forth from the force, but he gazes down at you with smoldering ruby-toned eyes. Every smart-mouthed remark you’ve said that day replays in his head, contributing to his desire to make you atone for your brattiness.

“Yes, Y/N and I promise I won’t let you out of bed with your hair a mess like I did this morning.”

Hajime Umemiya

The complexity of Hajime Umemiya should be a case study. You’ve witnessed his laid-back nature as he jokes with friends, and you’ve seen the scary side of him that bubbles over when anyone threatens those he’s closest to.

You’re truly attracted to both sides, but when it comes to you and the way you tease him, running manicured nails through his gelled hair and scratching gently at his scalp, he’s putty in your hands.

One of your favorite ways to experience Umemiya is meeting him in his element: his garden. It allows you to bond with him, and he often shares information about his life. Somewhere, Sugishita is biting his fist.

“Big brother,” you whine as you plant okra, “am I doing this right?”

Umemiya’s eyes widen, and he looks at you across the garden. In what feels like seconds, he’s kneeling in front of you, your hands cupped in his own. “Y-you can’t call me that!”

You blink, confused, “you tell everyone to call you that.”

“I don’t want YOU to call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird when someone you…like…calls you big brother. It’s worse than being called a friend!”

You snort, but when you meet his eyes, you quickly straighten. Oh! He’s serious!

“So, not into me calling you big brother even during our ‘private moments?’ What about ‘Daddy?’ How do you feel about that?”

He laughs loudly—not because he thinks that was especially hilarious—but because you just make him nervous.

“You can call me Hajime or…’my boyfriend?’ Yeah, let's stick with my boyfriend!”

“Not Daddy?”

“I won’t stop you! Now, how about that okra???”

Toma Hiragi

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

Hiragi’s simultaneously rubbing a knot out of his neck while chastising you. You found yourself in an all too familiar situation, running errands when a drunken man approached you and began to hurl “that word” in your direction when he didn’t find your reaction to his advances to be appropriate: same shit, different day.

As you were looking for an escape route, Hiragi rounded the corner and snatched the man by the collar—it was almost comical to see the drunkard's feet dangle feverishly off the ground. With a scowl and a threat from Hiragi, he was stumbling off.

You sigh, “I don’t mean to be a burden, Hiragi. But something on my forehead must read, ‘fuck with me’ because this is becoming a common occurrence.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he grumbles, “I just find myself worrying about you too much. Might give you my jacket to keep these creeps at bay.”

Before the last syllable leaves his lips, he’s stuttering and trying to walk the statement back, “I mean uh…or any Bofurin jacket! We have boxes of these somewhere! Not mine, per se.”

You smile, placing a hand on his toned bicep. “I’d love to wear my protector's jacket.”

You need not say more. He removes his oversized jacket and places it over your shoulders. The smell of him and the warmth he left behind makes your heart flutter. You give him your best grin, “you know you’re never getting this back, right?”

“See? A pain in my ass. With a mouth like that, I’m goin’ to have to teach you how to fight.”

You lean into his arm, “With a mouth like this, you might have to teach me more than how to fight.”

“Jesus.”

Jo Togame

Jo Togame is the other person on this list who’ll give you a run for your money when trying to flirt. He may seem turtle-adjacent, but his rebuttals to your flirtation attempts are quick.

You’ve been shooting Togame smoldering glances for the entirety of the night, and even though Shishitoren men surround him, he’ll catch you looking, give you a lopsided grin, and then turn his attention back to the group,

You lick your lips. The draw of his signature sweatpants, black, loose-fitting tee, and Shishitoren jacket is doing something to you.

And maybe it’s because you’re on your fifth shot of mystery concoction, and the music they’re playing at the house party makes you feel bold and think that what you’re about to do is a good idea.

With all the courage you can muster, you walk up to Togame. He tilts his head in your direction, but you can see amusement in his jade-colored eyes.

“Took you long enough. Thought you were never gonna get tired of starin’ at me.”

“Dance with me!” you yell over the music. You can feel everyone in the group sizing you up and waiting to hear how Togame responds.

He puts his beer down and takes your hand. You pull him to the center of the room, where a makeshift dance floor has been constructed. You allow the music to move you before you can talk yourself out of whatever is happening. Togame puts his hand on your waist and allows you to grind against him and to the beat.

“You like the idea of making me nervous, huh?”

You stand on the tips of your toes to get as close to his ear as possible, “You caught me! Is it working?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “No because I know exactly how this night is going to end.”

Your heart picks up a bit as his hands slide down from your waist and rest above your ass.

“How?” You squeak.

“With you grinding just like this on my dick.”

You open your mouth to respond, but he presses his lips against yours, his kiss hot and hungry.

Your eyes flutter closed, and you agree that this night will likely end how he prophesized.

1K notes · View notes

edensrose · 13 days ago

Note

Hiiii ive been checking out your account and i love it btw your stuff is awesome!!! I was wondering if you could give me a reader x satoru fic or headcanons based off of the song Watermelon Moonshine by Lainey Wilson???? TYSM IF U RESPOND!!!

𐔌 𝓘 was his & every inch of that boy was mine ✧₊ ꒱

꒰ ᡴꪫ ꒱ highschool sweetheart!satoru 𖹭 f.reader

˖ ࣪ꮽ˳ 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑬𝑫 ─── him all of you beneath the moonlight. were you drunk on love or just too young to know what love was? ꒰ ᡴꪫ ꒱ angst 𖹭 reflection 𖹭 sad toru

˖ ࣪ 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕. ۫ ۶ৎ tysm darling ! I cried so much over this and now so will all of you 𖹭 art cred ⌇ haikun.

˖ ࣪✧ highschool sweetheart!satoru who . ventured out with you into the mountains surrounding jujutsu high fresh out of graduation. pale blue blanket tucked under his arm and your hand linked with his. grinning brighter than the stars and giving you little twirls as you both celebrated with a dance through the forests.

˖ ࣪✧ highschool sweetheart!satoru who . threw his arm around you the second you found a comfortable spot beneath the moonlight, overlooking tokyo's marvellous lights. nothing compared to your eyes in that moment, though. was it the thrill of graduation? or maybe the bite of booze you insisted on?

"Can you believe it, toru?"

He smiled at your slight slur and fluttered white lashes over glossed out blues. His long arm drew you in so your head nestled to his shoulder. "Believe you actually managed to graduate? Not really. For sure thought they'd fail your dumbass."

Your swat earned a heart laugh and he crooked you closer. Cool lips press a kiss to your forehead while his warm touch squeezed on your bicep. "We did it, sweet girl."

˖ ࣪✧ highschool sweetheart!satoru who . stared with eyes wider than the grand blanket of stars above when you cupped his face in your tender hands. gentle, like he was the moon, the sun, the whole damn galaxy. when you kissed his lips and he melted into yours. like stars colliding.

"I love you, Satoru."

He's heard it before. Ever since third year. He yearned for it since second, but your confession in the golden-hour basked classroom only came a year later. He wouldn't trade it for anything in the universe.

His arms found your waist, naturally. Yours drew around his neck. Your lips continued in a dance. Two celestial bodies merging, adoring, melting into one another. As you both deserved.

Satoru was yours, and you were his. The moon and stars bore witness to this vow of heart. So you profess it with your mouth still.

"You're the only one for me." Pinkie held out as you kiss your thumb in your signature promise. Childish? No, sentimental. It's the first gesture he gave you that day back in first year, where he promised you half his lunch if you beat the assignment record. "Forever and always. Don't forget me, yeah?"

He's a jujutsu sorcerer of the renowned Gojo clan. He knew where promises could lead, and yet he still hooked his pinkie in yours and flushed his lips to his thumb with a grin, then a wink.

"Forever huh? Sure you can handle that?"

"For you? Always."

Your lips met again. Your heart soared.

˖ ࣪✧ highschool sweetheart!satoru who . while your heart soared, his ached. why? he couldn't quite pinpoint it. he hated it. that sliver of doubt while the moon shone down upon him. backlit when he nudged you into the blanket and consumed you in fervent kisses. as though the silvery body in he night sky shamed him for his doubt. but now wasn't the time for doubt. he has a pretty girl — his pretty girl, in his arms. all his. he must tell the stars about her. here, on this pale blue wool.

˖ ࣪✧ highschool sweetheart!satoru who . told you to pick two stars in the sky while you laid heartily on your backs, your head comfortable on his chest. you chose the two closest to the moon. he told you it's the both of you. just two stars dazzling in the midnight sky. together, always.

"I love you."

"I love you, always. But I can't do this anymore."

"I love you . . ."

"Satoru . . . I'm sorry."

˖ ࣪✧ highschool sweetheart!satoru who . broke when he heard those words from you. years later in the bask of daybreak. outside your apartment door, his second home. only a step away from you and yet so far. your vows were clear, but the moon is no longer here to remind either of you. only the rising sun of a new dawn. a lonely one.

˖ ࣪✧ highschool sweetheart!satoru who . knew from the start this would happen. he's a special grade, the strongest. you're a grade 3. and while your power difference never mattered when the certainty of a classroom and assignments brought you together every day, graduation sparked a new chapter. different paths, lonely ones. with him so far above in the heavens, and you grounded on earth. you tried, you really did. but your heart could take no more. you needed him, and he couldn't be yours. not like this. he never blamed you.

˖ ࣪✧ highschool sweetheart!satoru who . did however, miss you. like the stars miss the sun and flowers evening rain. he missed you with every run-in at jujutsu tech. with every accidental bump in a mission. he hated appearing on missions with you around — it only reminded him of the reason you're not his anymore.

"Good call there." He swallowed up the 'sweet girl' that burned the back of his tongue, eager to attach it to the end of every sentence he addressed you in.

"Thanks, Gojo."

How it stung. He asked you about it the last time you two crossed paths. Gojo? Could you at least keep it to Satoru? You disagreed, because you were in the same predicament. Satoru led to toru, which followed with pain.

˖ ࣪✧ highschool sweetheart!satoru who . hates to admit it but he's been asking shoko about you for years. it's the only way he's able to keep up with you anymore. you told him he could always text — but the last message was a week after that fateful morning. his message: are you free on friday? you ran into him later that day and expressed you weren't when he teased about being left on read. that's the moment he realised, the ache in his heart on that special night was only trying to warn him.

˖ ࣪✧ highschool sweetheart!satoru who . felt his heart plummet when he heard you're thinking about leaving the jujutsu society as a whole. start your own life away from all this, away from tokyo. he couldn't help but ask a third, away from him too? what would it matter if you left, it's not as though you and him were in much contact to begin with. but this felt final. forever.

"Don't go."

"Come with me."

"I can't - I can't do that!"

"Neither can I."

Blue eyes once glossed over by cheap booze now glossed from emotion. Was he crying? The thought didn't surprise him too much. He's shed tears in your name for years now. Ever since that day on your doorstep.

Here he was. Beneath the night on that same step. Staring at you with the same look he did under the moonlight. After graduation, coiled onto that blanket he still had rolled up back home.

"Satoru." You finally say his name, but it aches. You ache. Your stature before him. So certain in leaving him behind when you promised him forever. "This is for the best."

He's about to protest and usher you with your bag back into your empty apartment. Hijack your phone and call for those movers back. Tell them you're not going anywhere — tell you the same. But your hands stopped him. Tender and whispering memories of that night as they cupped his face.

The strongest has always been weak for you. He leaned over with a quivered lip and eager hands to your waist. He missed this. Your touch. Your body. His against it. He missed your eyes in the starlight. He knows he'll continue to miss them until his heart finally stops beating.

Your lips grazed his and he can still taste the sweetness of mochi he fed you on that blanket. Even if it's cold, ripe with bitter lipstick instead. He dipped immediately to catch your kiss like a man starved. Even if the fruit he consumed was poison.

Stars collided, faded. The moon swept in its crescent. Not full like it was the night you promised him. Your lips moved on his sweetly, cruelly, and when you part — your tears matched his.

"Promise me you'll never forget me."

He croaked.

And you smiled. Raised your pinkie and kissed your thumb.

"For you? Always."

͝ ⏝𝅄︶ ͝ ⏝ ⊹ ⏝ ͝ ︶𝅄⏝ ͝

˖ ࣪ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕. ۫ ۶ৎ @a-contemplation-upon-flowers 𖹭

#. ۫ ۶ৎ . 𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 '𝒏 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 ﹕ satoru gojo ꒱ . ˚◞✧#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader angst

201 notes · View notes

howiswhatawhy · 14 days ago

Text

Dive - Bucky Barnes x reader

A/N: Ugh I've been so busy with schoolwork and maybe this is the only fic I'll be able to finish in the next 3 weeks or so (i hope not tho). As always this fic is based on the songs in my bucky playlist. Pairing: college athlete! fuckboy(?)! bucky x tutor! reader (can you guys guess my fav trope?) Summary: Being halfway in love with Bucky is hard when your worlds don't collide. So you try to fit in more in his world by going to a party when asks you to, but it becomes more apparent now than ever that you don't belong. Word Count: 3.7k Warnings: longing, slight angst, soft! bucky, kinda hurt/comfort, reader thirsting over bucky, reader being a bit quirky, uncertainty, no use of y/n, no thunderbolts spoiler. Playlist:

Oh, maybe I came on too strong

Maybe I waited too long

Maybe I played my cards wrong

Oh, just a little bit wrong

Baby I apologize for it

You tap your fingers against the table, an absent rhythm that matches the way your thoughts are tumbling over themselves. The café is warm, soft light pooling over the tabletop, and yet your palms are cold. Why do your nerves always betray you like this?

You weren’t good at this. At pretending like you aren’t halfway in love with Bucky Barnes, if even halfway.

The door swings open, and you look up too quickly, too eagerly. He catches the motion, eyes crinkling just slightly in amusement. You scramble to look casual, adjusting your jacket, moving your coffee cup an inch to the left like that’s something normal people do.

Bucky just shakes his head, grinning as he slides into the seat across from you. "You're cute when you overthink," he murmurs, and your heart stumbles over itself like your hands did a second ago.

“What do you mean?” You pick up your drink. The empty drink. The one you finished ten minutes ago. Smooth.

Bucky slides into the seat across from you, his gaze settling with easy amusement. He’s biting back a smirk. “You’re acting real normal," he teases.

You scoff, or tried to at least. “I am normal. We’re just doing our usual topic, right?”

"Sure," he muses, tipping his head slightly.

——

I could fall or I could fly

Here in your aeroplane

And I could live, I could die

Hanging on the words you say It started when coach Alexei asked you for a favor. A little academic charity for a star athlete who, according to everyone, just needed someone to "keep him on track." You didn’t expect much beyond forced study sessions, maybe a few half-hearted attempts at getting him to care about coursework in between practices.

But Bucky had surprised you.

To be quite honest, you half expected to hate Bucky. He’s known as a fuckboy, and he’s broken countless hearts. So were you really at fault for thinking that he’s just some kind of jerk who doesn’t care about anyone but himself? Not really, but that thought was proven to be wrong when you got to really know Bucky.

You don’t really know about how men should treat women. After all, you’ve only dated one person before. And that guy cheated on you twice, and blamed you for it.

So no, you don’t really know how men are supposed to treat women.

You just know how Bucky treats you.

He listens.

At first, your conversations never strayed beyond class material. But even then, he listened, really listened, which surprised you. You’d expected him to zone out, to fake interest just to get through the session.

But Bucky didn’t check his phone mid-sentence. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t roll his eyes or act like he had somewhere better to be. He met your gaze. He asked follow-up questions. He made you feel like what you were saying actually mattered.

It threw you off at first, how attentive he was. You kept waiting for the catch. Maybe he was just trying to butter you up before a big exam, or maybe this was just another version of the charm everyone warned you about. But it never came.

And little by little, the conversations began to shift. You started to get to know him, and he started to remember things about you too. Like how you don’t like the smell of coffee, which is why he doesn’t drink coffee on Wednesdays, your tutoring day. Or how you always eat sweet snacks when you’re stressed, so he brings some when it’s nearing exams season.

It was in the quiet moments that you began to notice things about him. Like the way he chewed the inside of his cheek when he was concentrating. Or how he’d tilt his head when he was confused.

You also noticed the girls that watched him when he walked by. The way their eyes followed him down the hallway, the way they whispered to each other behind barely concealed smiles. You saw the way some of them lingered after class, trying to catch his attention with light laughs and playful touches. And you saw the way he smiled and flirted back at them.

Bucky is a sweetheart. He always has been, and he always will be. And maybe that’s the problem. He’s sweet to everyone.

He holds doors open. He offers his jacket without thinking twice. He remembers names of people he met only once. And he never makes anyone feel stupid for not understanding something right away. That’s just who he is.

So when he’s kind to you, part of you wonders if it’s just habit. If you’re reading too much into something that isn’t meant to mean anything. You wonder if this is the reason why he got the “heartbreaker”label in the first place, because he’s kind.

Too kind.

Because when someone like Bucky Barnes looks at you like you’re the only person in the room, even just for a split second, it’s easy to believe it.

Easy to fall.

So you let yourself hope a little. Hope that you’re the only one he texts after a long day —

Don’t forget to eat tonight. You always forget when you’re overwhelmed.

And you hope (more than you probably should) that you’re the only one he makes space for in his schedule. Not because a professor asked him to. But because he wants to.

The only one he calls “smart girl” with that low, proud smile tugging at his lips. Like you mean something more.

You hope that the way he leans toward you when you talk isn’t how he leans toward everyone. That the way his voice softens when he says your name isn’t automatic. That when his knee brushes yours, he does notice, and he leaves it there on purpose.

Because Bucky Barnes is sweet to everyone.

But you want to believe he’s gentle with you. Specifically.

Deliberately.

And maybe that’s naive. Maybe he’s just kind, effortlessly, carelessly kind. And none of it means what you want it to mean.

But when you reread his message for the third time, when you show up and he’s already there, waiting, when he hands you your favorite snack without being asked, you let yourself hope.

Just a little.

That maybe, just maybe, you’re the only exception.

———

And I've been known to give my all

And jumping in harder than

Ten thousand rocks on the lake

You don’t fall in love often. In fact, you only fell in love once. And the experience made you careful.

Because you’ve seen first hand what you’d do for love. Even when it hurt. Even when it wasn’t returned the way you needed. Even when it meant shrinking yourself just to keep someone else comfortable.

You bent until you were unrecognizable. Forgave things that should’ve never been. And stayed longer than you should’ve, hoping that things would get better.

You loved hard. And it cost you.

So now, you walk slowly. You check for signs. You second-guess the warmth in someone’s voice, the meaning behind their smile. Especially his smile.

Because Bucky Barnes has history. A long one. With countless of girls in smudged lipstick and dreamy eyes. Fast flings. Short chapters. Open-and-shut hearts.

So it’s hard not to wonder: what does someone like you mean to someone like him?

Because the stories don’t exactly paint a picture of someone who sticks around. And yet, when he’s with you, there’s a quiet difference. A stillness that wasn’t there before.

But questions don’t disappear just because you want them to. They sit there, tangled up in every glance and every word unsaid. Still unanswered.

———

You're a mystery

I have traveled the world, there's no other like you

No one, what's your history?

Do you have a tendency to lead some people on?

'Cause I heard you do, mmh

It’s hard to convince yourself that Bucky doesn’t have feelings for you when you spend half your days daydreaming about him and overanalyzing his texts for the 20th time in a row. But it’s also hard to convince yourself that he’d choose you out of all the girls that are lining up at his feet.

Your worlds don’t exactly collide. You get to hear feel the difference when he talks about what happened at the parties he went last Saturday, asking you to come with him just this once. He always spurts out something along the lines of Come on doll, just this once? You never have fun. You need to relax.

Even if you don’t hear it, you’d see it when you walk with him on campus. The way heads turn when he passes, how girls smile just a little too wide, flipping their hair, biting their lips. Some are bold enough to walk right up to him, completely ignoring you beside him.

“Hey, Bucky,” one of them says, hand brushing his arm lightly, eyes doing that slow scan from his face to his chest. “You never texted me back.”

Or “You still owe me a drink, remember?” with a teasing smirk and a wink that makes your stomach twist.

He just laughs it off, saying “Sorry, sweetheart, been busy,” or “Did I? My bad,” followed by that grin. And all the while, you shrink a little more beside him.

It’s not jealousy, not exactly. It’s this aching feeling that you’re just… background. That you don’t belong in the glittering, easy world he moves through. You’re the girl with ink-stained fingers and mismatched socks, the one who prefers quiet cafes to crowded parties, novels to nightclubs.

You wish you didn’t feel so small beside him. Wish you didn’t shrink into the shadows every time someone looked right past you to get to him. Wish, just once, you could stand beside him and feel like you belonged there. So when he turns to you this time, saying “So, is this the week I finally can convince you to come with me to the party?” You open your mouth, ready to say no, ready to remind him that crowded rooms and flashing lights aren’t your thing. That you wouldn’t know how to blend in, wouldn’t know how to be anything other than the quiet, unnoticed girl beside him.

But this time, the words don’t come. Instead, you think about the way people look at him, like he belongs everywhere, like the world molds itself around him. And for once, you wonder what it would be like to step into that space, even if only for a night.

Would it really be so terrible?

Would you really feel so out of place?

So you let out a breath, glancing up at him, and the smirk he wears softens just enough to make your pulse stumble. "One time," you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

His grin sharpens, triumphant, like he knew you’d cave eventually.

"That’s my girl."

And suddenly, the party doesn’t feel quite so impossible.

——

And I've been known to give my all

And lie awake, every day

Don't know how much I can take

Okay, credits to Bucky, the party isn’t so bad after all. He introduced you to his friends, Steve and Sam, which were welcoming in a way that made it easier to breathe.

"Didn’t think you had it in you, Barnes," Sam says, nudging Bucky’s shoulder. "Our girl here doesn’t seem like the party type."

Our girl.

The words stick in your chest, warm and unexpected.

Bucky just grins, glancing down at you. "Told you she just needed the right crowd."

And somehow, surrounded by laughter, by the buzz of conversation that feels less suffocating now, you start to believe that maybe you’re not entirely out of place here. The warmth lingers for a while.

The easy laughter, the way Sam and Steve talk to you like you’ve always been part of the group, the way Bucky’s hand ghosts over your lower back whenever someone nudges too close, it’s all enough to make you believe you could stay.

So maybe you got too comfortable. You just don’t realize how much until the world tilts slightly when you stand. “You okay, doll?” You glance up. Bucky stands close, the party lights casting soft shadows over his face, making the sharp cut of his jaw look even more unfair than usual. His brow furrows slightly, concern flickering behind his eyes, but all you can focus on is his hand.

It’s at your waist, steady, grounding, not that it’s helping, because if anything, it’s worse. His palm is warm, the heat bleeding through your shirt, his fingers curling just slightly like he already knows you’d stumble if he let go.

It’s ridiculous, really, the way your pulse trips over itself just because Bucky Barnes is looking at you like this.

Just because his voice is this deep.

Just because his thumb presses ever so slightly against your hip.

So you try to focus on something else, you drag your gaze away from his thumb and falls to.. his lips. Soft, curved into something dangerous. Just slightly parted, inviting you to kiss- Yeah, maybe you’re a little drunk. "I—yeah. Just need some water," you manage, but it doesn’t sound convincing. His eyes flick over you, slow and assessing, like he doesn’t quite believe you either. "You sure?"

And damn him, because his thumb presses just a little firmer against your hip, like he’s testing the steadiness of your stance. You inhale sharply, ignoring the way your pulse betrays you completely, and step back just enough to pull yourself out of the gravitational pull that is Bucky Barnes and his hands and his voice and his everything.

"I’m sure."

You turn too quickly, squeezing through the crowd toward the kitchen, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck, ignoring the way your skin still tingles where his fingers had been.

You stayed in the kitchen for a while, trying to calm yourself down, even though nothing seems to be working. The cool air in the kitchen should help, but it doesn’t. Neither does the water you sip slowly, hoping the chill will settle something inside you. But the ghost of his touch lingers.

Then, his voice.

You hear it from just outside the doorway, low and easy, "Doll—"

You turn instinctively, heart skipping.

But just when he was about to come in, other voices cut in. You don’t register them at first. The thrum of the party is too loud, your pulse beating too harshly in the silence of the kitchen. But then—

"Come on, Buck, seriously?"

It’s right outside the doorway. Close enough that the sound slips into the quiet space you’d created for yourself. You freeze.

“You’re really not gonna entertain us tonight? Just because you’re stuck with that loser chick that clings to you like a leech?”

The words sting, but not as much as the rush of heat crawling up your neck. It’s humiliating, really. To hear such cruel words come out of people who don’t really know you. But even more, because it burrows deep into something you’ve already thought about yourself. Because it feels like the truth.

So, you don’t wait. You don’t stay to hear what Bucky says in response, don’t pause to see the way his jaw tightens, the sharpness in his voice when he does shut them down. Because it doesn’t matter. Not really.

What matters is that you’re done.

Your fingers tighten around your phone as you push through the crowd, slipping past bodies that suddenly feel too close, voices that are suddenly too loud.

You need out.

You barely register the night air when you stumble outside, the chill biting at your skin, grounding you in ways nothing else had tonight.

—— So don't call me baby

Unless you mean it

Don't tell me you need me

If you don't believe it

So let me know the truth

Before I dive right into you

Bucky comes out right after you. The door clicks shut behind him, muffling the noise of the party. He steps closer, warmth lingering despite the bite of the night air. His gaze flicks over you like he’s trying to figure out just how deep the words inside hurt you.

"You shouldn’t have left like that," he murmurs, voice softer now. "Didn’t even let me shut them down properly."

You exhale sharply, gripping your phone tighter, unsure if it’s anger or embarrassment twisting in your chest. But before you can say anything—

"Come on, doll” he says, just barely above a whisper. "Talk to me."

Your breath shudders, the weight of everything crashing down at once.

You don’t fight it this time. Don’t try to swallow the sting in your throat, don’t bother blinking back the tears burning behind your eyes. You just let it break.

The first tear slips free, then another. Your shoulders shake, and you hate how weak you feel, how exposed.

“Baby,” His voice is softer now, careful, like he’s trying not to make it worse. But it does. It does because it’s confusing and it’s cruel. You don’t know what he means by calling you that. Bucky moves closer, hand lifting to wipe away the tear trailing down your cheek. His fingers are warm and comforting in the same way they hurt and break you. Because you can’t take it if he touches you like that, looks at you so gently, calling you baby without it meaning more. You pull back, sharp, sudden.

"Don’t call me that."

The words cut through the night, sharper than you meant them to be, but you mean them. Bucky’s hand lowers, his eyes searching your face. “I—“ He tries. “No, Bucky. I know you’re nice and you’re sweet and you defended me from those girls just now, but they were right. I cling onto you.” Bucky’s brows furrow, the weight of your words sinking in. His mouth opens, like he wants to say something, like he wants to argue. But you continue before he could. “I cling onto you, I make it weird. I make us weird. And you let me, because you're polite, but that’s all this is, isn’t it?”

You hate how your voice wavers. Hate that the confession burns so much. Bucky exhales sharply, shaking his head, something frustrated sparking behind his eyes. "That’s not it. You know that I need you just as m—”

“No, Bucky, don’t say things like that,” you cut in. “You can’t say things like that and expect me to not fall in love with you.” The words come out without you even realizing it. Your chest is tight, emotions making it feel suffocating. The words hang between you, sharp and trembling, like you’ve just cracked something open that can’t be forced back into place.

Bucky stills.

His breath is uneven, his gaze heavy, like he's staring straight through the layers of doubt, insecurity, everything you've tried to bury.

“You know what? Just forget it. I know you’ll never feel the same way. I’m sorry for making it awkward. I’ll just tell the coach that you don’t need me anymore so I can stop embarrassing myself, so I can—"

"Stop." The word is firm, sharper than his usual softness. Bucky steps in again, closer this time, like he's daring you to run. "You think I don’t—" He stops himself, his jaw tightening, like the words are fighting their way out of him.

"You think I don’t feel it too?" His voice is raw now, stripped bare, no hesitation, no restraint. "You think I don’t lose my damn mind every time you're near?"

Your pulse thrums wildly in your ears.

"You think I call you baby just to be nice?" His voice dips, frustration laced with something else. something deeper. "I call you that because I don’t know how to say I want you without completely losing my goddamn mind."

Your breath stutters, chest tight, thoughts spinning too fast for you to catch them. "You—" You start, but the words die in your throat. Bucky is right there, closer than he’s ever been, watching you like you might slip away again if he lets go. Your breath is uneven, your hands trembling at your sides. Bucky is right there, eyes locked on yours, and the weight of everything presses between you, suffocating in its intensity.

“Tell me the truth,” you say, daring him—begging him. “Because if I fall, if I let myself believe it, I need to know I won’t be the only one drowning.”

Bucky exhales sharply, his chest rising, falling. He looks at you like he wants to grab you, shake you, pull you in so close there’s no space left to doubt. But instead, his hand lifts—fingers grazing against your jaw, featherlight, reverent.

“You think I don’t want you?” he murmurs, his voice so quiet, so fragile, it feels like it might break apart before it reaches you. “You think I don’t feel it every goddamn day?”

Your pulse thrums wildly, but you don’t move. You don’t breathe.

“I’ve tried,” he continues, shaking his head like he’s frustrated with himself, like he’s unraveling right in front of you. “I’ve tried to hold back, tried to pretend it’s nothing, but it’s not. It never was.”

His thumb brushes against your cheek, and it’s the softest thing, the gentlest touch, but it wrecks you. Because this is it. This is what you’ve been afraid of, what you’ve been desperate for.

“I want this,” he says finally, no hesitation, no restraint. “And if you dive, I swear to you, I’m right there with you.” Slowly, Bucky moves, pressing his forehead against yours. His warmth seeps into you, into the spaces that have always felt empty.

“I want you,” he murmurs, a breath away. You don’t know how to answer because this has been everything you’ve ever wanter ever since the second you met him. It leaves you breathless, speechless. So you don’t say anything. Not in words. You lean forward, fingers curling into his jacket, holding onto him like he’s the only thing keeping you steady. And he pulls you in. Lips searching for yours in the softest way. And with the way his fingers trace the line of your jaw, a gentle caress that anchors you in the moment, you melt into him, into the warmth that seeps into your bones, into the feeling of being held, wanted. There’s no need for words now. This is the answer. This is home.

241 notes · View notes

creativepromptsforwriting · 8 months ago

Text

Fic Titles: Song Edition

Part VI

Teach me how to get my smile back - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, HAN feat. BAE

You keep a lot of secrets (and I keep none) - Fireproof, The National

Too much darkness for a rainbow - Gone, Rosé

I always say goodbye - World spins madly on, The Weepies

We can set the world on fire - You are the solution, Loving Caliber

Drop a single tear drop - Tomboy, (G)I-DLE

I still dream of you - Ghost towns, Radical Face

Love is not a competition - Collide, Rachel Platten

Demons are friends, angels are enemies - @ my worst, blackbear

We're such a mess together - Using you, Mars Argo

I've found a love to love like no other can - Nara, alt-J

All for freedom and for pleasure - Everybody wants to rule the world, Tears for Fears

Why you asking? (No, I'm not ok) - Not ok, Loco feat. Minnie

In the fantasy it's so convincing - Dirty thoughts, Chloe Adams

The only memory is us kissing in the moonlight - Can't remember to forget you, Shakira feat. Rihanna

Searching for something that ain't lost - Don't waste my time, Victor Lundberg

A little more delicate - Clementine, Sarah Jaffe

Tonight we are victorious - Victorious, Panic! at the Disco

I want you so much, but I hate your guts - Landfill, Daughter

Your idols betray you/Your heroes will fail you/′Cause we are no saints - We are no saints, Blind Channel

Are we best friends? Are we somethin' in between that? - Heartbeat, Childish Gambino

'Cause sometimes the wrong ones are just what you need - James has changed, Phoebe Ryan

Heart made of glass, my mind of stone - Lovely, Billie Eilish & Khalid

Chasing visions of our futures - Youth, Daughter

Why is love so contradicting? - Contradicting, Hyunjin

I wanna be found by you - Adore, Amy Shark

Somebody might die (but nobody gets hurt) - Honey, Måneskin

The history books forgot about us - Samson, Regina Spektor

I like us better when we're intertwined - Cool, Dua Lipa

Baby don't go away (love me like you loved me) - Miserable (You & Me), HAN

More titles!

#fic titles #song lyrics #song titles #writing prompts #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing ideas #just like life #it starts with hanpop and it ends with hanpop #skz

554 notes · View notes

inkedinshadows · 8 months ago

Text

Say My Name

Day 12: Hate fuck — Eris x f!reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, p in v, one instance of name calling, language

Word count: 2.354

A/N: ahhh I'm so excited for this one! It's actually the first Eris fic I've ever written (before the one for day 8) and I had so much fun. It's probably my favorite out of all kinktober fics!

As the emissary of the Night Court, you often had to deal with members of other courts, some more polite than others. And though you loved your job for the most part, you had come to hate when you had to meet with Eris Vanserra, which happened a bit too frequently since Rhysand had agreed to help him scheme against his own father.

You despised the male.

Eris was nothing but an arrogant, self-assured prick who thought he was better than anyone else. But even more than that, you hated the way your body reacted to him. You always had to keep a few feet of distance if you didn’t want anything inconvenient going on between your legs.

“You’re late.”

You rolled your eyes at that familiar voice as you closed the door behind you. Your meetings took place in a small, abandoned cabin Azriel had found along the border between the Winter and the Autumn Court. It was a single room with a small bed in one corner, a few kitchen counters on the opposite wall and a table with two chairs at the center of the space. Not much, but perfect for secret meetings.

Eris was currently leaning against one of the dusty counters, arms crossed over his muscular chest, scowling at you.

Forcing yourself to meet his gaze and not stare at the way his brown tunic perfectly hugged his biceps, you shrugged irreverently. “I’m here now, so let’s get this over with. The less I see you, the better.”

His jaw ticked. “I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.”

“And?” You took a few steps forward, leaning against the table to mimic his position. “I had better things to do, Vanserra.”

Not exactly true. You had arrived late because you wanted to. You relished the sight of his anger, savoring the knowledge that you could get on his nerves so easily. The thought of him growing impatient while he waited for you to show up brought a little smile to your lips, especially since you knew that he needed the Night Court’s help more than you needed his.

Eris pushed off the counter and stalked toward you, his arms now at his side. You kept your eyes on his face, watching as that dormant fire power inside him sparked to life in his gaze. All of a sudden, you were breathing slightly faster.

“Allow me to make one thing clear, darling,” he drawled, stopping mere inches from you. You cringed at the pet name, though something fluttered deep in your stomach as he continued. “This is not a game. I don’t care what you or your preening High Lord and his oh-so-perfect friends believe about me. He promised his help.”

His hands were on the table behind you now, trapping you between the furniture and his body. He leaned closer, his scent engulfing you, until he was snarling directly in your face. “So if you can’t even bother to show up on time to do your job, tell him to send someone else. Someone professional.”

You were supposed to snap, to put him in his place, to yell and get angry at him. And deep down you were. After all, he had just insulted your friends and family, and not so subtly called you incompetent. But he was so close to you that you could feel his warm breath on your face and his chest brushing against yours with every inhale.

And then you made the stupid mistake of glancing down at his lips.

You didn’t know what happened next. You didn’t know who moved first. But one moment you were glaring at each other, and the next it was a whirlwind of tongues and teeth as your mouths collided.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss. Eris groaned, you moaned, both of you tried to take the lead and not submit to the other. But then he pushed you back against the table, his hips flush with yours, and suddenly there was just the hard bulge in his pants pressing against you.

Eris slid one of his hands in your hair to tilt your head back, drawing a whimper from you and exposing your neck for him to bite.

“Is this what you want?” he growled in between nips that you knew would leave a red mark. “Is this why your thighs clench together so often when you’re around me?”

“Shut up, Vanserra,” you grumbled, not caring how he had noticed that detail. All you wanted was to feel him, to give in to this unwelcome desire just for once, hoping it would be enough to make it go away. The wrongness of it all, the hate you harbored for each other, should have been a deterrent, but it only fueled your need instead.

Your fingers were on his pants, making quick work of undoing the buttons. Before you could go any further than that, you yelped as Eris spun you around and unceremoniously bent you over the table.

You turned your head toward him. “What are you—”

“Shut up,” he snarled in your ear. “I’m giving you what you’re too ashamed to ask for yourself.”

You didn’t know how to answer that. You did want this, and your pride stopped you from admitting it out loud. But shame? You weren’t ashamed of how you felt. You simply hated it with all your being.

“You’re so wet already,” he drawled, brushing its tip on your clit. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

Eris didn’t give you the time to come up with a different answer than another grumbled ‘shut up’. Your skirt was already being pushed up around your waist, your panties dropped to your ankles, and a moment later the head of his cock rubbed against your folds, making you both groan.

“Eris…” you whined. You didn’t even care how desperate and needy your voice sounded anymore. You just wanted to feel him inside you.

But he stopped and pulled away. His mouth was at your ear again, his breath hot on your skin. “How did you call me, sweetheart?”

You froze too as realization hit you. He had always been Vanserra to you. You had never uttered his name in front of him, just like he had never said yours. It just slipped out in the heat of the moment, and you certainly wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“I thought that was your name,” you replied, your voice going back to the scornful note it always carried when talking to him.

“It is.” Eris ran his hands along your body, and his tone became demanding. “Say it again.”

“No.”

He grabbed your hips, fingers digging in enough to bruise. “Say it.”

“Fuck you,” you spat. You wanted to turn around and give him one of your disdainful glares, but he was leaning over you, pressing you between his chest and the wooden surface beneath you.

“Oh, darling, I will fuck you.” You felt him smile against your ear. “And you will be screaming my name by the time I’m done with you.”

The words were already on your lips. Like hell I will. You opened your mouth to say just that, but a cry came out instead as Eris pushed his cock inside you with a single thrust. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was pounding into you.

“Fuck, you feel better than I thought…” he sputtered, nibbling on your earlobe. “Tight little cunt squeezing me just right.”

Every thought or concern faded from your mind at the punishing rhythm he set. There was only the heavy drag of his cock sliding in and out of you, and when he lifted himself off you and stood to his full height behind you, the new angle allowed him to hit your most sensitive spot just right.

“Say my name.”

Eyes closed, mind foggy, you somehow managed to bite out, “No.”

His hand fisted your hair to pull your head back. You groaned, your back arching off the table, holding on to the edge hard enough that your knuckles were white.

“I want to fucking hear it,” he panted, each word accentuated by a thrust that made your eyes roll back.

But you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction, not even now. Your pride and stubbornness wouldn’t let you go farther than letting him fuck you over a table.

“Keep fucking dreaming, Vanserra.”

Apparently, it wasn’t the right answer. His grip on your hair and hip only tightened and he slammed harder inside you, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust, but at least he didn’t ask again and neither of you said anything more. The only sounds that could be heard were moans and groans—yours or his, you could no longer tell—, the wet noise of his cock sliding in your dripping cunt, and the occasional creaking of the table beneath you.

You weren’t sure how long you kept going. It could have been a few minutes or a few hours, and it would have made no difference at all: by the time you were reaching your climax, you were so fucked out it was hard to breathe or think straight. And Eris probably noticed it too, because he pulled you up until your back was pressed against his chest.

He let go of your hair only to tease your clit, gently drawing circles around it as he let up a bit until he was thrusting at a torturously slow rhythm. Your release had been so close, yet it was slipping away.

“Will you say my name now, darling?” he murmured in your ear. “Then you can come.”

You didn’t know why it mattered so much to him, but you were too lost in the pleasure, your mind too hazy to even try and fight him this time. “Eris,” you mumbled softly.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes closing again when his fingers moved a bit faster on your clit. You were ready to come, and you waited for him to pick up the pace, but his thrusts remained too slow, too gentle.

“A little louder, sweetheart,” he ordered. “I couldn’t hear you.”

You sighed, the sound a perfect mix of frustration and bliss, and squirmed in his arms to try and get more than what he was giving.

Eris simply stopped what he was doing. His hand left your clit and he pulled out until only the tip of his cock was still inside you. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

“Eris, please…” you whined, loud enough that he couldn’t complain about not hearing it.

“You said my name and you’re begging?” His teeth grazed your neck. “Now, that’s a good little slut.”

You should be outraged, ashamed, shoving him away after such an insult, and a small part of you was, because you breathed out, “I fucking hate you.” It didn’t come out as angrily as you intended, though, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You weren’t even sure you said that because of the insult or to try to preserve some semblance of dignity.

Eris had the nerve to laugh. “Oh, I know you do, darling. I bet you also hate how good my cock feels inside you.”

He pushed you back down over the table, his hands finding their place on your hips as he finally thrust back into you.

“But I don’t see you complain about that,” he growled just before he began to relentlessly pound into you.

If possible, he was fucking you even harder and more roughly than before. Your cheek was pressed against the wood, and soon your legs were shaking, barely able to hold you up. Moan after moan tumbled out of your mouth, each one louder than before, until Eris slammed into you particularly deep and you screamed his name as your orgasm barreled through you.

His thrusts became frantic, his grip firmer, and it was only a matter of seconds before he came with a groan, filling you with his warm seed, your walls still clenching around him.

For a moment, you were both still. You were panting, body slick with sweat, and when Eris at last pulled out, you felt his absence inside you. But you would be damned if you let even the slightest whimper leave your lips now. Instead, you stood up straight as if that obnoxious desire had been sated rather than fed.

You pulled your panties back up and fixed your skirts, trying to ignore the remnants of your combined releases smeared over your inner thighs. You fixed your hair with your hands as best you could, and only then did you turn to face Eris.

He was watching you with a smirk on his annoyingly beautiful face. He looked as if nothing had happened—perfect hair, smoothed tunic, pants already buttoned up.

“What?” you snapped.

“I told you you’d scream my name and you did, didn’t you?” He prowled closer, reaching out a hand as if he wanted to touch you. “Just like I said.”

You batted his hand away and took a step back, arms crossed over your chest. “So what? It doesn’t change anything. I still hate you.”

“Good. Because I hate you just as much.”

“Good.”

You stared each other down for a whole minute before you crumbled and looked away. You swore you could see a smug smile appear on his face, but it was gone by the time you glanced back at him.

“This was a horrible mistake,” you sighed. You aimed for the door. “It will never happen again.”

Eris only smirked. “We’ll see.”

You winnowed away before you could punch him on that marked beautiful jaw of his. Only later did you realize you hadn’t asked why he had called for a meeting in the first place.

But Eris had been right, as it turned out. Because you still had to meet with him, and it did happen again. And again. And again. Until you didn’t fight it anymore.

Until you came to love the way Eris Vanserra hated you.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings

Kinktober taglist: @thyellablackk @p1nkfluffysocks @maddieboo8 @a-courtof-azriel @whataenginerd @loviseamms @chaconnelatte @okaytrashpanda @scarsandallaz @velarisdusk @olive-main @krispypotato @scorpioriesling

#kinktober 2024 #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra smut #eris acotar #eris vandaddy #acotar fanfic #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar smut #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #sarah j maas #smut #kinktober #fanfiction

473 notes · View notes

joes-sha-la-la-la-girl · 2 years ago

Text

When Love and Hate Collide: Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Assuming it was her luggage being brought up, Y/N hurried to the door. However, as she pulled the door open, she was greeted with the smiling faces of Phil and Rick.

Phil spoke first as he stepped forward slightly, “Wanna join us for dinner?”

“I’m not sure, I was just going to order room service.” Y/N told them. Despite her gentle refusal, Rick and Phil wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Come on, we all want you to join us.” Rick encouraged. Noting the sceptical look on her face he soon added, “Joe’s not coming.”

Y/N sighed and looked at the two men’s faces. Knowing that Joe wasn’t going to be there both settled her and upset her. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable around his band mates, so him not attending relieved her slightly. Though, she couldn’t shake the disappointment that he wouldn’t be eating with them.

In spite of his apparent disdain for her, Y/N still wanted to get to know him. Something about him intrigued her and predominantly, she wanted to know why he didn’t like her. She remembered Rick’s words, but a part of her knew that it wasn’t just because she was new that he didn’t want to talk to her.

Realising she had been quiet for a long time, she quickly slipped on her heels, which she had previously discarded by the door, and followed the two men down to the hotel dining hall. They all made small talk as they walked and soon enough she was greeted with Viv and Sav smiling at her.

Phil pulled her chair out and allowed her to sit down before moving to his own chair next to her. Greetings were shared again although it had only been an hour or so since she had last seen them. They all ate their meals and conversed. Y/N found herself fitting in with the crowd and realising that they were just normal men who happened to be famous.

Saying goodnight to them all once again, Y/N went up to her room. As she stepped out of the lift and onto her floor she almost ran into someone.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry.” She apologised as she looked up at who she walked into. She was not prepared for it to be Joe scowling down at her. Clearing her throat, she wanted to apologise again, Joe being the last person she wanted to annoy, but was stopped by him talking first.

“You really should watch where you’re going, Miss Y/L/N.”

Y/N quickly nodded at him. “I am so sorry.”

Joe just looked at her and carried on past her, not giving her another word. Y/N released a breath that she didn’t know she was holding in and went to her room. She knew there was a time difference but she decided to call her best friend. Picking up the hotel phone she dialled the number she knew off by heart.

“Hello?” Y/N heard Bonnie’s voice on the other end.

“Bonnie, it’s Y/N.” She smiled hearing her friend’s voice for the first time in a few days.

“Y/N! Hi, how's LA?”

“Well I haven’t seen much of it yet but my hotel room is great.” Y/N joked. Bonnie let out a playful scoff.

“Okay then. How's the band? Are they as hot in real life as they are on the posters?”

Y/N let out a laugh. Of course her best friend would come out with something like this.

“Well, I don’t want to objectify them but yes they are.”

Bonnie giggled for a second before turning to a slightly more serious tone. “How are they all treating you?”

“Sav, Vivian, Rick and Phil are all really lovely and have made me feel really welcome.”

“And what about Joe?”

Y/N sighed. She should have known Bonnie would ask about Joe. She was a big fan and he was her favourite member.

“Well… I haven’t really spoken to him much, but every interaction so far has been less than positive.”

“What do you mean?” Bonnie asked her, sensing the slight sadness in her best friend’s voice. Y/N went on and explained the entire day to Bonnie.

“I mean I know he just went through a nasty divorce not long ago but that doesn’t explain as to why he doesn’t like you.”

Y/N released another sigh. “I didn’t know about the divorce but you’re right. It’s hardly my fault. I‘m just a tour assistant. Rick did say something about how it is because I’m new but it feels like more than that.”

“Try not to overthink it, Y/N/N.”

Y/N nodded, despite knowing that Bonnie couldn’t see her.

“How are you holding up otherwise?”

Y/N automatically knew what Bonnie was referring to. Last month Y/N walked in on her boyfriend Scott cheating on her and since then had been struggling with wondering as to why he had done so.

“You know it wasn’t your fault he cheated on you don’t you?” Bonnie asked when Y/N had been quiet for some time.

“I know but I can't help but wonder if I could have done anything differently.”

“Y/N, you are perfect, he was a tosser. He had you and he lost you and that is too bad for him. Go and live your wonderful life while he sleeps around and you will end up happier than he could ever dream of being.”

Y/n smiled at her friend's use of the insult and yet again nodded before she verbally agreed. The two talked for a while longer before Y/N decided to get some rest. She also knew it was early morning in England and didn’t want to keep Bonnie up any longer. Although they did both have insomnia and it wasn’t the first time they had been up all night together.

Y/N decided it would be best to avoid any interaction between her and Joe and just do her job. There was a huge lump in Y/N’s chest when she thought about avoiding Joe but she pushed it aside. She knew that the only thing she could do was go to sleep.

The morning came and after Y/N got ready for the day she went downstairs to meet the band for breakfast. She noticed that the group travelling together occupied two tables and there was one seat left available. Next to Joe.

Making her way to the table, everyone but Joe greeted her and she returned their pleasantries. Even swallowing her nerves and greeting Joe. It wasn’t until he heard his name that he lifted his head and nodded once before looking away again.

Once they had eaten Y/N had taken the opportunity to take out a notepad and get the band to make a list of food items they wanted her to buy for the bus. She made sure that there were vegetarian options as well. The only person who didn’t make an input was Joe. Making a note of it all, Y/N put away her notepad and the group got up moving towards the lifts so that the band could get ready for soundcheck and she could get ready to go shopping.

On the way out of her room she saw that Joe was getting in the lift again, on his own. Y/N debated waiting for the next one but once Joe turned around he spotted her. He held the door open and waited for her to get in. She hurried herself and entered the lift hoping that she wouldn’t be alone and another band member, or any hotel guest, would join them

However, the doors closed leaving just the two of them in the lift.

#def leppard #joe elliott #joe elliott x reader #ellen's fic #when love and hate collide chapter 2 #when love and hate collide fic

23 notes · View notes

justwinginglife · 23 days ago

Note

May I request an isekai au Jinshi x reader (from the apothecary diaries) please, I love the way you write him!

Hellooooo! Thank you so much for your kind words, it makes me so happy to know that you love the way I write him. Because it took me so long to get back to your request, I thought I'd gift you with two Jinshi fics. The other fic is listed here. Thank you again for your support and for trusting me with your request!

In Every Life

Synopsis: As noted in the request, this is isekai style, and my personal favorite flavor of isekai is Villainess anime. So I thought I'd pay homage and have you whisked away into the world of Apothecary Diaries from the world we live in now. Of course, you may have a crush on Jinshi in this world, but in that world? You'd probably rip his hair out. What happens when the two worlds collide and love and hate meet each other in the middle? Approximate Word Count: 3600 Tags: Enemies to lovers, slight angst, mutual pining

Side note after posting: I’m just realizing now that I stayed up until 5 am writing this, and my sleep deprived brain was only thinking the request meant the reader is isekai’d into the show, totally not even realizing it was possible for Jinshi to be isekai’d out or for both of yall to be isekai’d elsewhere so lemme know if you wanted something different when you requested this.

Don’t tell me…

You blinked awake and found yourself in the world of the Apothecary Diaries. Of course, you’d already made a whole life for yourself the last 19 years and become a part of the world itself, but it was only now that you remembered you ever had a life before this one. A life where you were so violently stripped of the chance to grow old when a speeding Vespa sent you flying towards your death and rebirth.

Wait. You blinked again, recalling the memory. A freaking Vespa?? The universe didn’t even have the decency to isekai you with a truck, how embarrassing. Anyway, pride aside, you were currently living in the world of one of your favorite animes with all memories of your previous life intact. And, having just woken up from an exhausting nap (when your memories decided to suddenly kickstart themselves), you found yourself rather hungry.

When you lived in Japan, you used to make yourself the most delicious snacks to fill your belly while you waited for lunch or dinner to arrive, each treat more creative and satisfying than the last. It seemed only fitting that you revisit that habit in this new life of yours. You were sure you must have seen a kitchen around here somewhere in the few years you’d lived in the palace, so you decided to wander around until you found it. You couldn’t remember what your plans were for the afternoon, but you were sure nothing was more important than stuffing your belly.

You had one arm deep into the pantry when you heard a familiar voice resounding behind you. It was a voice you know well. A voice you'd come to detest. A voice that got your blood boiling, your ears steaming, your breath huffing. And suddenly -surprisingly- it was now the most beautiful voice you’d ever heard.

You turned to face Jinshi, a man you’d consistently bickered with to the point of it being daily routine, a man who was the very definition of the bane of your existence, only to discover that this was the same man you once had a gigantic crush on in your previous life, when he was nothing more than a pretty face on a TV screen. And suddenly, you found that you weren’t sure how the fuck to feel about him now.

“Hey, Jinshi.” You greeted him meekly, a smile sitting pretty on your lips.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What are you doing with your face? Why are you smiling at me; it’s creepy, cut it out.”

Your smile dropped in an instant. That’s right. You forgot. You were mortal enemies. And he was a jackass. “I was trying to be nice- something you clearly know nothing about. Do you think you’d drop dead if you had manners or something?” You spit back defensively.

He snorted. “You? Nice? Puh-lease. And for your information, I do have manners, I just have none for you.”

“No manners, no balls,” You took a moment to lean in and sniff the air around him before wrinkling your nose in disgust, “No hygiene either. Is there anything you do have? Besides an ego the size of this palace.”

If he could’ve rained down hellfire on you right now, he would’ve. But where pride failed him, paranoia prevailed, and he faked a scoff (not that it was much of a fake anyway; he really was scornful) only to turn away from you in exaggerated annoyance so that he could take a moment to briefly sniff his own clothes without giving you the satisfaction of knowing how much your words had gotten to him. When he smelled nothing but rose water, he turned to shoot you a pointed glare. “Seriously? You’re so desperate to slander me that you’re pulling insults out of thin air? What- run out of creativity this morning?”

You’d known when you’d uttered the words that it was a desperate attempt to find something wrong with him, to find anything wrong with him, to repay him for how he’d treated you, but you couldn’t back out now. Not when you’d already made your bed. “Ohh, I see. You want me to be creative.” You tapped your chin in mock thought. “I’d say you’re dumb as rocks but that would be an insult to the rocks. It makes sense that everything to come out of your mouth is pure crap because your head is so far up your butt. I think-”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Without warning, he clapped a hand over your mouth and backed you into a nearby wall, eyes ablaze with an unyielding inferno.

And suddenly your insolence dissipated.

It’s been said that the line between love and hate is dangerously thin -both emotions rivaling each other with equal passion and intensity- but you had yet to realize just how thin that line was until he had you pressed up against a wall, his eyes burning into yours, his breath hot on your skin. You would’ve liked to keep your newly found discovery to yourself, continuing to loathe him until the end of time, but your traitorous mind had chosen this very moment to remind you of the frog scene in Apothecary Diaries (with your situation suddenly feeling quite similar), and your body could not help but produce evidence of your stirring feelings, seeping pink into your cheeks.

You hoped he hadn’t noticed it, but today, the gods were against you. You watched as his eyes, which had previously been attempting to sear a hole through your sockets with rage alone, began to trail down to your rosy cheeks, his fury flickering out as he processed this sudden change in your mood. His eyes then widened in shock -and, was that…embarrassment?- and he quickly removed his hand, pulling away from you in an instant.

Once again, before you could control yourself, disappointment spilled across your face. If both of you had been playing a game of Go, the match would’ve been over in an instant, as his features had begun to display the same honesty as yours. Hesitation stuttered his movements, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You were disappointed he’d retreated? Why? Were you not the same woman who detested him? The same woman who made it the object of her everyday life to express how much she detested him? Had you ever even detested him? Or had you been hiding this secret side of you all along? Had you ever looked so enticing before? Had his heart ever thundered as much as it did at this very moment? Did he like this feeling? Did he like…

He closed the distance between you once more, taking the steps needed to bring the familiar shade of rouge rushing back to your cheeks. “You…you infuriate me, do you know that?” His words held no bite, like it was less of an insult and more of a careful confession.

“And you…you infuriate me.” You hadn’t intended to whisper but your words remained weak all the same.

Before he could give a proper response, you began to hear footsteps approaching. He pulled away again, like it was reflex, leaving you to stew in your own desolation.

“Jinshi!” Feminine voices rang out like a bell, perfectly polished hands waving their greetings to him.

And suddenly, he wasn’t the Jinshi you knew anymore. He wasn’t the Jinshi with a tendency for immature spats and temperamental behavior. He wasn’t the Jinshi that was eager to see you, only to trade rancorous remarks, like it was his only hobby. He wasn’t the Jinshi that got your blood boiling and your heart racing. He was Jinshi, the eunuch. Jinshi, the guardian of the palace. Jinshi, the kind. Jinshi, the clever. Jinshi, as charming as a prince and doubly as handsome as one. Jinshi, the object of every woman’s desires.

“Ladies! It’s a pleasure to see you as always. What brings such lovely company in my direction?” He joined the crowd, his usual, stunning smile plastered perfectly across his face.

And there he goes, being fake again, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh as you watched him walk off.

You thought that, maybe, for even a millisecond, you might have been having a moment with Jinshi. You were already among the few people to witness his more genuine side (even though you’d uncovered it by less than favorable means, having always found yourself in opposition to him), and now you thought to yourself that today you might have even broken past the opposition that had previously barred the two of you from becoming amiable towards one another. But maybe it was all in your mind. Maybe this fake Jinshi was who he wanted to be. Maybe he wanted nothing to do with the Jinshi you made him into. The Jinshi that wasted his every breath just to quarrel with you. Maybe a tender moment stolen by pure luck was as close to him as you’d ever get.

As much as that thought pained you to admit, it was only reasonable. You’d only ever pined after Jinshi in your previous life. In this one, you were at each other’s throats on the regular. Of course he wouldn’t be able to overlook that. You weren’t even sure if you would’ve overlooked it if you hadn’t regained memories of your past and recalled your previous fondness for him. It was the acknowledgement of this reality that forced you to continue about your day as though nothing of note had happened.

It was several days before you saw him again.

You had thought yourself lucky. Any fleeting feelings you might have had for him belonged to a past you, and the current you had no hope of having him let alone keeping him. It was fortunate that you’d been spared from seeing him again so soon after your last encounter; this way, your past desires could safely stay in the past. Or, at least, they would have been able to, if he’d been able to stay away long enough.

You hadn’t expected that the next time you’d see him again would be in the stables, of all places. You almost never had cause to go to the stables yourself, but you’d been doing your best to avoid Jinshi (not that you needed to go out of your way for that, as he’d been nowhere in sight as of late), and figured it couldn’t hurt to take the long way back to your place of residence. He was almost never seen at the stables either, having always had his horses brought to him, so you figured it was highly unlikely you’d run into him. When you spotted a horse with a violet tail, you couldn’t help but peer closer at it, only to discover that Jinshi had been seeking refuge behind it.

Now, you should’ve turned and walked away before you’d been spotted. That would have been the healthier move for your heart. But for old times sake, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about a situation like this.

“Trying to make a run for it?”

Out of reflex, he tensed up, but upon recognizing your voice, his shoulders slumped back to their original form. “Not a bad idea, actually.”

You blinked. You’d expected some snarky reply. Something along the lines of, “Only from you.” You hadn’t expected a genuine answer. “Alright, what’s wrong with you today?”

His face soured in an instant. “What’s wrong with me?? What’s wrong with you? What kind of question is that?”

You were on the defensive immediately. “Hey- you don’t have to get all worked up just because I found you in a suspicious position. Is it wrong for me to question why you’re hiding in the strangest of places?”

His frown deepened. “Yeah, well, you didn’t have to question me so rudely. Why does everything you say always come out so horribly? It makes it awfully unbearable to be around you at all.” As the words were leaving his lips, he instantly regretted them, but it was too late. They’d already done their damage and shot straight through your heart.

Any fight you had left in you vanished. Shrunk itself back into the deepest recesses of your soul. “Pardon my behavior, sir. Allow me to excuse myself.” Your apology rang hollow, not for a lack of sincerity, but for a lack of life, having been so mercilessly drained out of you by his cruel words. He was right, of course. You knew he was right. But you thought you’d had some sort of understanding with him. You were brazen about your feelings and so was he. It was the only connection you had to each other.

Now you were starting to regret having any connection to him at all.

You walked off, defeated and deserving of said defeat, and he watched with guilt as you left. You’d never apologized to him before and certainly not with such formality. It left him with a bad taste in his mouth, knowing he was the reason your casual conversation with him had turned rigid. Of course, if he could’ve chosen to, he would have rather had an amicable relationship with you instead of continuing to clash with you time and time again, but he’d grown rather fond of the way you spoke your mind to him, telling him when he was being ridiculous, telling him when he was being arrogant, telling him when he was being pompous. And he’d gotten comfortable with returning the favor, telling you when you were being selfish, when you were being irresponsible, when you were being irrational. He’d even unknowingly (and eventually, consciously) begun to seek you out on the regular, purely because you were the one person who spoke to him like a person rather than a higher power. Because you were the one person he could be himself around. Even Gaoshun and Suiren, who had been by his side the longest, commanded a certain level of propriety from him, as their expectations of him were great. But you? You expected nothing from him but honesty.

And he hadn’t been honest to you (or himself) when he’d withheld his true feelings, using his calloused words to mask what he knew in his heart: that he loved you. That he’d been this close to kissing you when you finally showed some semblance of interest in him, interest that he accepted from others as a poor substitute for your affection, interest that might have flourished had he properly nurtured it instead of trampling all over it the way he had just done. And now, he wasn’t sure you’d ever be interested in him again.

How similar the two of you were, as you walked away from him, so sure that he’d never be interested in you again. That he’d never desire to breathe the same air again, let alone speak to you. And that crushed you so entirely that you felt you might wither to pieces at this very moment. Maybe the wandering winds would simply blow you away, erase your very existence. You hoped they would.

You hadn’t realized how badly you’d wanted to be accepted by him until he’d outright rejected you. You hadn’t realized that these feelings you’d attributed to your past self, belonged to your current self as well, even more so. That watching him on a TV screen couldn’t compare to conversing with him in person. It couldn’t compare to the way his brows would wrinkle after you’d said something particularly blunt, and it couldn’t compare to the way he’d smirk at you when he’d return your candidness with his own. It couldn’t compare to the way he’d search for you and then pretend he didn’t, keeping pace with you as he feigned an accidental encounter. And it couldn’t compare to the rare moments when you’d find yourself in a truce, and for a moment, you could even be considered friends. But beneath your rigid exterior, you held close to your heart the secret of your desire to be more than just friends or rivals. You’d held onto it so tightly, that even you couldn’t recognize at first, the emotions and feelings and yearning that had blossomed from this secret. And now this secret would never see the light of day.

You were so lost in thought, in despair, that you hadn’t even noticed when your paths crossed with a large group of court ladies. You wouldn’t have noticed them even if you collided with every single one on your way out, had you not overheard part of their conversation.

“Where could Master Jinshi be?”

“I thought for sure we had him properly occupied.”

“We’ll just have to try harder once we get our hands on him again.”

Ah. It all made sense now. Why you hadn’t seen him in days. Why he’d been hiding in the stables. Why he’d been too exhausted to even properly return your witticism.

You cleared your throat, drawing the attention of the women. “Forgive me, but I must ask a favor of you lovely ladies. By chance, I happened to run into Master Jinshi as I was making my way out of the bathhouse and as his appearance was quite convenient for me, I requested his services, but it appears I am no longer in need of his aid, having found the solution myself. If you see him, will you please relay that message for me?”

Their eyes lit up and they quickly muttered their polite replies before speeding off towards the bathhouse. In the opposite direction of the stables.

“You…you didn’t have to do that, you know. Just for me.”

Your blood froze in its veins when you heard his familiar voice. “It wasn’t-” You took a deep breath. “Forgive me for involving myself, I was acting on the assumption you didn’t want to be found. I apologize if I’ve only inconvenienced you further. I will take my leave now.” You gave him a rigid bow, eyes never daring to meet his.

Once again, your formality shattered his heart. How long were you going to keep speaking to him like this? Forever? Or would you eventually cease to speak to him at all?

“Wait. I…I just wanted to thank you. For what you did.” His words were clumsy, heavy with the weight of all he wanted to say but couldn’t.

You gave him a solemn nod before turning away to leave.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out, desperate for any combination of words, no matter how big or small, that would get you to stay for even just a second more.

“You have nothing to apologize for, please don’t concern yourself with apologies.”

There it was again. That same tone that splintered his every aching cell into bits and pieces. “But I…you don’t… you don’t understand. I must apologize. I need to apologize. I regret ever causing you so much distress more than I’ve ever regretted anything, please understand me. I’m not just apologizing to clear the air. If you still hate me, then you still hate me. But I am truly sorry.” He made his case to your retreating back, but he hoped you’d hear him and accept him all the same.

Your steps halted. “I don’t…I don’t hate you.”

His breathing eased ever so slightly. “You don’t?” He took a step closer to you but that was all he dared do.

“I never…I never have. And I never will. And…I’m the one who should be sorry. You’re right; I am… difficult to talk to. But you’re not. You’re easy to talk to. I let myself get comfortable and I shouldn’t have.”

“No!” He blurted out and then winced at his own lack of decorum in the face of his desperation to make you understand him. “I appreciate your conversation. I look forward to it, actually. I…I’m comfortable with you too. And I’d hate it if we stopped talking.”

A flicker of hope fluttered in your chest. “I’d hate it too.”

He took another daring step towards you. “I’d hate not seeing you everyday, like I have these past few days. I’d hate not hearing your voice.”

The flicker of hope grew into one, single, steady flame within you. “I…I know how you feel.”

He made his way even closer to you. “I’d hate not being by your side…I’d hate…not telling you how I actually feel.”

The flame began to burn bright within your veins, spreading its heat to every inch of your body. “And how do you…feel?”

He had you backed up against a wall again, but it wasn’t like before. It wasn’t out of impulse, it was out of a necessity to keep you close to him. “I feel…” He cupped your face, caressing your cheeks tenderly, before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Like I’ve never felt before.” He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands trailing to the back of your head to hold you steady against him. Or maybe it was to hold him steady against you, to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. Or maybe it was just to hold you. To be near you. “Like I…love you. Like I’ve always loved you.”

And suddenly he wasn’t some character on a TV screen, or some rival to rebuke; he was just simply yours. And you were his, in your past life, in this life, and in every life to come.

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @h3art-love @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi

#han's library #apothecary diaries jinshi #jinshi apothecary diaries #jinshi #jinshi x reader #apothecary diaries #the apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries x reader

137 notes · View notes

onlyangel4 · 10 months ago

Text

put some clothes on. LS2. SMAU.

logan sargeant x actress!reader

in which logan is dating an actress who is not afraid to do sex scenes and play risque controversial characters so when they hard launchf1 fandom decides that she is not wag material. but logan and reader do not give a fuck.

faceclaim- sydney sweeney

warnings: 18+ sexual content, cursing, slut shaming

author's note: please do keep on sending requests, the more detailed the better! i write written fic and smaus for most of the grid and a handful of associated people.

y/ninsta

liked by zendaya, tomholland, hunterschafer and 1,230,101 others

y/ninsta: save a horse ride a cowboy

view all 13,291 comments

zendaya: you are glowing my love

y/ninsta: that means a lot coming from you, queen of the glow

y/nfan: miss girl you can not just soft launch and leave us like this i stg

user3: guys we have lost her. to a man.

user4: oh y/n i thought what we had was special

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, danielricciardo, landonorris and 157,601 others

logansargeant: life lately

view all 8,301 comments

f1fan: omg omg logan is soft launching

user6: i'm surprised he even knows what a soft launch is

danielricciardo: i have known who your girl is for like six months and i am still fucking shocked

user8: six months! they have been together that long and we had no idea?

user7: daniel spill who tf is she

alexalbon: finally soft launching the girl that keeps on stealing lily from me

f1wags

liked by f1fan, user9, user10 and 56,798 others

f1wags: admin can not believe that they are typing this right now but logan sargeant just hard launched his relationship with y/n y/ln by attending the season two premiere of euphoria. y/ln plays cassie in the popular show and has won awards for her work but she is also known to play out there characters and do intimate scenes in film. something pretty much unheard of for a wag. what are your thoughts on this couple.

view all 908 comments

user9: my two worlds are colliding i adore y/n and i hate the current discourse around her relationship with logan. yes she plays these characters and films these scenes but it is all for entertainment. she is hollywood's it girl at the moment for a damn good reason.

user10: i can't believe i have seen logan sargeants girlfriend's tits that is mental

user6: that just isn't wag behaviour

user11: not logan dating hollywood's whore

f1fan: she will never be a worthy wag her behaviour is just inappropriate

y/ninsta

liked by logansargeant, danielricciardo, alexademie and 1,923,731 others

y/ninsta: my baby euphoria season two is out now ! i had the best time filming this with my favourite people i hope you all love it as much as i do.

view all 21,438 comments

logansargeant: so proud of you my love

user12: proud of your girlfriend for having sex on tv? you do you boo

danielricciardo: logan introduced me to euphoria and i am fucking addicted

user13: how can you support this relationship

user14: i am both a f1 and y/n fan and i am fucking disgusted by the comments over the post. this is a woman celebrating the release of something that she had worked so hard on and you are all criticing her just because you think you know what is right for her boyfriend. fucking childish.

liked by y/ninsta and logansargeant

logansargeant posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: so proud of my girl

user15 replied to your story: tell your girl to put her tits away

logansargeant blocked user15

y/ninsta

liked by logansargeant, zendaya, lilymhe and 2,129,091 others

y/ninsta: somebody pinch me ! i collaborated with frankie's bikinis to bring you a line of seven bikinis. the ones featured in these pictures are my three favourites but i wholeheartedly believe that there is a style for everyone in the line. drops on the 1st of may !

view all 21,210 comments

lilymhe: my jaw just dropped you are so hot

alexalbon: can confirm she has not stopped looking at these pictures since you posted them

logansargeant: that's my girl

y/ninsta: say it louder for the people in the back

logansargeant: THAT'S MY GIRL

user17: how can you hate this couple they are the cutest

user18: put some clothes on

user19: put some clothes on

user20: put some clothes on

logansargeant

liked by y/ninsta, danielricciardo, zendaya and 250,982 others

tagged: y/ninsta

logansargeant: please stop telling my girlfriend to put some clothes on it is detrimental to my mental health

view all 9,281 comments

y/insta: they could never make me

logansargeant: exactly what i want to hear babygirl

user20: babygirl! i'm going to go lay in traffic

alexalbon: pr is going to kill you mate

logansargeant: worth it

user21: everyone say sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

user22: sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

user23: sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

user24: sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smau #formula 1 smau #formula one smau #f1 fandom #ls2 #ls2 x reader #ls2 fic #logan sargeant #logan sargeant smau #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant fluff #williams racing #williams f1 #formula 1 #formula one

603 notes · View notes

oddinary4bts · 11 months ago

Text

Chasing Cars | ch 10 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Yoongi x Hoseok

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: side character breakup, jungkook is still a little jealous lmao, alcohol, curses, they both are anxious to lose each other tbh, explicit content: hickey, breast play, oral sex (male receiving), jerking off, fingering, protected sex

☆word count: 10.1k

☆a/n: fun fact, this is the chapter that made me choose the title for this fic!! and this is also where the angst starts :') I hope you still enjoy reading <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Monday, March 25th

You hate college. More specifically, you hate having to turn in multiple lab reports every week. There’s just something about building a lab report that irks you.

You don’t know how researchers do it. You think you’d go insane if you had to write report after report after report but…

You’re already going insane after all.

You sigh, rubbing a hand on your forehead as you look at the tables you’ve been trying to make for half an hour. Yoongi, sitting across from you, raises his head from his laptop, an eyebrow cocked. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, going back to your report as he doesn’t pry, focusing back on his own work.

As much as he spoke to you at the party last week, Yoongi has been a lot more silent today. You reckon you might know why - Hoseok said in the group chat that he’d come to study too, and he’s yet to show up. It’s evening now, and you have a feeling he’s just not going to come.

You don’t know if you can entirely blame him - it’s Spring Break after all, and most people are trying to forget about college for the week.

But you can’t, because you’ve got that lab report to work on and a final to study for.

You blink a few times, trying to bring your laptop back in focus, and then you go back to work. You spend another thirty minutes fixing the tables, not caring that the titles clearly could be better. Nabi said she’d go over everything you’ve done, and you know she’s much better with titles anyway.

You’re lucky she’s your lab partner.

“Are you hungry?” Yoongi asks all of a sudden, and you startle, looking up at him.

Right in time, your stomach grumbles, and you let out a small laugh. “Yeah, a little.”

“Want to order burritos?” Yoongi suggests.

You nod enthusiastically, and he chuckles, picking up his phone. The smile that was on his lips dies almost immediately, and he deeply sighs. You furrow your brows questioningly, glancing outside of your study rooms.

Jungkook isn’t working today, yet you find yourself looking for him all the same.

“What’s wrong?” you ask Yoongi, pushing Jungkook away from your thoughts.

Even though every thought of him makes you warm inside, giddy like a teenager with a crush.

“Hobi,” Yoongi simply replies.

You purse your lips, picking up your water bottle to take a long sip as you search for something to say. You settle on, “You guys talked after the party?”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah.” He pauses, sighing deeply again before handing you his phone. “Just choose which burrito you want.”

You grab his phone, quickly choosing what you want to eat as he remains silent, typing away on his laptop. You’re aware he’s avoiding the question, but you have a feeling he needs to talk. It’s in the way he worries at some dry skin on his bottom lip, an anxious tell you recognize all too well for having it too.

“How did the conversation go?” you ask as he finishes up the order, putting his phone back down on the table.

“It went okay,” he admits, yet he looks defeated. You understand why when he adds, “He told me he doesn’t want to be with me anymore.”

You widen your gaze. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi laughs bitterly, slightly shaking his head. “I feel blindsided. We were all happy before the party and now…” He shrugs vaguely, letting out a choked sound that almost passes as a chuckle. “It just came out of nowhere.”

“I’m really sorry…”

He shrugs again. “What can you do? I really just jumped in too fast without realizing that he was reluctant. I was stupid.”

“I don’t think you were stupid,” you say, trying to sound reassuring. “You’ve had feelings for him for a long time, and it felt like you were finally getting something in return. Anyone would have been blindsided.”

“I should have known when he insisted we take it slow and not share a room though,” Yoongi insists. “And though the sex was great there was a lot of stuff he was uncomfortable with. Not that I ever did anything without him wanting to do it but…” He wets his lips, glances your way before setting his gaze on his keyboard again. “I was his first guy.”

“Yeah, he told me,” you admit.

Pink dusts Yoongi’s cheeks, and you can tell he’s embarrassed by the turn of the conversation. So this time you don’t pry, letting him figure out what he wants to say next.

“I think he realized that he’s not into guys all that much,” Yoongi eventually says. “Like… he wanted to try it out and turns out it’s not as nice as he thought it’d be kinda thing, you know?”

You nod. “It sucks that it had to be with you though. You didn’t deserve that.”

Another shrug, like it’s all Yoongi knows to do right now. “Yeah, I guess.” He chuckles, a sad sound that makes you want to get up and hug him, though you know Yoongi’s not big on physical touch. “I don’t know if I should be mad or sad,” he admits a few seconds later.

“You’re allowed to be both.” He cocks an eyebrow as if not convinced. “I’m serious,” you insist. “You like him. Obviously, it’s going to hurt if he decides he doesn’t want to be with a guy. And obviously, you’re allowed to be mad too, because to you it can feel like he was leading you on.”

Yoongi meets your gaze. “Have you ever thought about becoming a therapist?”

His statement surprises you, and you laugh, scrunching up your nose. “No?”

“I think you’d be good,” Yoongi says. He sighs deeply again, picking up his phone. “Food’s on its way.”

You’re technically not allowed to eat at the library, so you end up eating on the steps outside when the food arrives, the fresh evening air welcoming after being stuck in a small, stuffy room for a couple of hours. Yoongi keeps pouring his heart out to you all along, as if he’d been holding everything in for too long, and the dam finally burst.

You’re happy to be there for him. Even though most of it is the same thing as at the party last week, you’re happy he’s comfortable enough to confide in you, and you try to cheer him up.

“If you want,” you say after a time. “I could try to speak to Hobi. See what he really thinks about this all.”

Yoongi holds your gaze for a few seconds before looking away, his eyes shifting to the cloudy sky. “Nah, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says. “I’ll just have to move on.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you just nod. “Your choice. I’ll be here for you.”

He smiles, sighing. “I know. Thank you.”

On that note you return to your study room and to the lab report awaiting you. Yoongi busies himself with his composition as you work, and you finally finish taking care of the text for the results about half an hour later. Nabi said she’d do the discussion, so you send her the link, asking her to tell you if she wants you to fix anything, and then you close your laptop, folding your arms on top of it.

“Done?” Yoongi says, pushing his headset down so that it rests around his neck.

You nod, dropping your face on your arms. “And I’m dead.”

“When do finals start for you?” he asks.

“Next Tuesday,” you admit.

“Isn’t that early?” Yoongi asks, gaze widened in surprise.

It might be. You only have one then though, and you still have two weeks of classes in your other courses before the rest of your finals. You’ll still take it - it means one less final during the true final week.

You tell so to Yoongi, who admits he doesn’t have finals, instead having projects in three classes. It leads to a conversation where you compare biology to his music major, and another fifteen minutes go by in comfortable silence when the conversation dies of its own volition, as you scroll on your phone and Yoongi keeps on working on his music composition.

You startle when someone knocks on the door of the study room. You glance that way, eyes widening when you notice Jungkook on the other side. Yoongi lets out a small laugh at your expense, and you get up, opening the door for Jungkook.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as he walks in, two coffees in hands.

“Thought you might need this,” he says, offering you one.

You take it with an eyebrow cocked quizzically, and then you watch him as he drops in one of the empty chairs at the table. He’s got a backpack with him, and he pulls out a laptop and a notebook from it while you and Yoongi are just stunned silent.

“What are you doing?” you ask again as you sit back in your chair.

“Figured I’d come study here with you guys,” he explains simply.

You glance at Yoongi, who shrugs.

“Oh?” you let out, settling your gaze back on Jungkook.

“Unless you guys don’t want me to?”

Yoongi saves you by replying, “No, you’re all good man. I was leaving anyway.”

He clearly wasn’t, as you’re the one who finished writing your report and he was still in the middle of his composition, yet he still gets up, closing his laptop and putting it in his backpack.

“Text me if there’s anything,” you tell him as he’s sliding one of the straps of his backpack on his shoulder.

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and he nods curtly. “Will do. Thanks for everything.”

You offer him a small smile, and then he’s walking out, not once looking back.

“Did you really have to come here?” you ask Jungkook, and it sounds far more accusing than you meant it to be.

“What?” he lets out. “Just wanted to see what the hype is all about when it comes to the library.”

You offer him a no-bullshit look. “Were you jealous because I was studying alone with Yoongi?”

Jungkook frowns, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. His lips jut out in the hint of a pout, and something melts inside of you, like it always does when it comes to him.

“He’s the one that left the second I got here,” Jungkook points out.

“Because he’s going through a hard time, dumbass,” you say, punching Jungkook in the shoulder.

He rubs at the spot, his pout intensifying, if that’s possible. “He still could have stayed, I wouldn’t have minded.”

Jungkook isn’t wrong, and though you really want to be there for Yoongi, you know he’s the kind of person that needs space a lot. Or at least that’s the impression he’s given you in general, and you really hope he didn’t leave because Jungkook showed up.

“I was done though,” you admit, patting your closed laptop. “I was thinking about heading home.”

Jungkook flicks your nose, taking you by surprise, and you sit back in your chair as you shriek. It earns you one of his bunny grins, and you truly are melting like snow in the sun. “Well then you’re going to have to stay with me for a little longer, mmh?”

You tilt your head to the side, though you can’t help the smile that tickles the corners of your lips. “And do what?”

“Study?” he sarcastically lets out. “Do whatever it is that you bio majors do.”

You end up doing so, rereading your notes for your first final. It’s boring, and you don’t think it’s really productive when Jeon Jungkook is sitting next to you, stealing quick glances in your direction.

You catch him for what feels like the tenth time, and you roll your eyes. “Stop looking at me.”

“Why?”

“Because,” you offer as an explanation. “We should go home.”

He narrows his gaze at you. “Why?”

“People could see us here.” And go and tell Taehyung about it.

“I’ll handle Tae if he gets upset, don’t worry,” Jungkook tries to reassure you, but it does the opposite.

Indeed, a drop of lead forms in your stomach because, what if Taehyung learns?

You don’t want him to know. It’d complicate everything, ruin everything.

“Besides,” Jungkook adds, “I’ll have to handle him in April anyway.”

You frown, a confused crease streaking across your brow. “Why?”

Jungkook meets your gaze. “I’m going to Paris with Jimin to see your brother at the end of the semester.”

Your heart starts racing in your chest, anxiety flooding your blood. “Oh?”

Jungkook toys with his piercings, scanning your features carefully. “Yeah. It’s been planned for a while.”

“You didn’t tell me.” You’re aware you once again sound accusing, but you can’t help it.

Not when you see the expiration date of your relationship with Jungkook flashing in your mind.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I just didn’t think to tell you? I thought I mentioned it when we Facetimed Tae the other day.”

You can’t blame him for not explicitly telling you - the trip has likely been planned for a while, and it’s not like you speak about your brother a lot. Though you mention him once in a while, you’ve both been good at avoiding talking about him. Now that he’s mentioned the Facetime call though, you do recall, and it’s like a hand is squeezing around your heart some more.

“No worries,” you say, and you offer him what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When do you leave?”

“April 29th, I think? I’ll check.”

You nod, and you look away from Jungkook to stare at your laptop instead, though your gaze loses its focus as your brother invades your thoughts. You think about what he’d say - you know he’ll be furious, and he’ll likely kick Jungkook out of your apartment.

Jungkook will never be able to handle Taehyung. Not when he’s being an overbearing asshole like only he knows to do.

“Peach,” Jungkook says in a small voice that almost sounds whiny. “Why do you look so upset?”

“You can’t handle Tae,” you say. You worry at your bottom lip and then take a deep breath. “It’s really better if he doesn’t know.”

Jungkook remains silent for a few seconds, though he nods his head. “Okay.” He nods again, offering you a tight-lipped smile. “Do you want to head home then?”

“Yeah,” you answer without a beat of silence. “Yeah, I think we should go home.”

Jungkook’s gaze drops to his laptop, and you feel bad. You truly do - he looks defeated, much like Yoongi looked like earlier.

“Can we watch something when we get home though?” you quickly ask.

You can’t help it. You can’t stand the sight of Jungkook upset - it’s just wrong to you.

He immediately brightens, a small curving his lips upwards. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah, definitely. Should get some cuddles in too.”

His smile widens, and he meets your gaze, the usual mischievous twinkle back in the depths of his eyes. “Sounds like a plan.”

And it really is. You think, you don’t need more with Jungkook. You don’t need the relationship to change, don’t need anyone to know. Because it’s simple right now, and there’s beauty in its simplicity.

Wednesday, March 27th

“Don’t!” you shriek, but Jungkook ignores you, stealing the TV remote from your hands.

“We’re not watching your reality TV show,” he says as he plops down on the couch into a lying position.

You glare at him, frowning as you fold your arms on your chest. “You like it.”

“Sometimes.” He flashes you a bunny grin that makes you gulp around a sudden lump in your throat. “But right now, I’m in the mood for a movie.”

You look up to the ceiling, searching for salvation yet finding none. “What movie?”

“Just come here,” he says, opening his arms for you.

You can’t resist. His gravity is too strong, and he pulls you in, like he’s the sun and you’re the comet.

Though you might come from the Kuiper Belt, you know you’re bound to crash into him anyway.

Once you’re nestled in his arms, Jungkook resumes his scrolling on Netflix.

“What about this?” he asks.

“Extraction?” you say as you eye the movie he stops on. “I’m not in the mood for action.”

“Then a romantic comedy it is.”

You chuckle against him, pecking the mole on his neck. He chooses the movie Always Be My Maybe, and then tightens his grip around you.

“I like that movie,” you say.

“You’ve seen it already?”

You reach for his hand before he’s able to change it. “Yeah, but I don’t mind,” you reassure him.

He nods, and that’s how you end up watching the movie, slowly dozing off on his chest. You’re in and out of sleep, watching the bright screen whenever you wake up, and when the credits roll in, Jungkook yawns over you.

“Were you sleeping?” you ask, faking offence.

“You were,” Jungkook points out, flicking your nose as you raise your head to look at him.

You move your face away, resting your head on the couch. “Barely.”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, and then you both burst out laughing.

You like this. You like the intimacy of being with Jungkook in your own home, like that in between these walls you get to call him yours. It’s treacherous, but oh so inebriating, like he’s summer wine you’ve become addicted to.

Instead of watching another movie, Jungkook goes to his room to retrieve his speaker, and he puts a random playlist on while you fetch a rosé bottle from the fridge, where you’ve left it before watching the movie. You’d decided to spend the evening in despite both your friends and his friends asking to hang out, and so you’d gotten a bottle earlier today.

That, and the board game Ticket to Ride, your favourite board game.

“That’s not how it works,” you complain a while later, when you’re one glass in and Jungkook grabs a locomotive and wagon card from the five on the side.

“What?” he lets out.

“If you take a locomotive you can only take one card,” you remind him.

It’s his first time playing, and though the game is fairly simple, you’ve noticed Jungkook has a tendency to try and cheat his way to the win. You’re tempted to let him keep the two cards when he offers you puppy eyes, yet you stand your ground, holding your hand out.

“Give me the wagon back.”

“Take it from me,” he teases, lips stretching in a smirk.

“Oh, you want to play this way?” you reply in the same teasing tone, and Jungkook toys on his piercings.

“Maybe?”

You get up from where you’ve been sitting on the floor, walking to the other side of the coffee table. Jungkook watches you, an apprehensive yet excited look in his eyes, and he laughs the second you drop behind him, hands aiming for his sides.

He leans against you, his large frame almost enough to make you crumple to the floor, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him close.

“Give me the wagon,” you repeat.

“Or what?”

“Or I’m not playing the game anymore.”

He looks over his shoulder at you, a pout on his pink lips. “Okay then, take your wagon back.”

He gives it to you, and you smile victoriously before pecking his cheek. “Thank you.”

You walk back to your side of the table, though you stop halfway, eyes brightening.

“I love this song!”

Jungkook leans back on his hands, tilting his head to the side as Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol starts playing.

It was your favourite song growing up. You used to listen to a different version of it you’d heard on Grey’s Anatomy, and you’d listen to it whenever you felt sad. Whenever you needed to feel like you weren’t alone in the universe, like someone was waiting for you, somewhere.

And as you look down at Jungkook while the lyrics start, you know someone was waiting all along.

“Sing it for me,” Jungkook says, smiling softly.

You can’t help the blush that creeps on your cheeks. “I don’t know how to sing. But you do!”

He chuckles, yet immediately starts singing as you offer him a hand to pull him up to his feet. He obliges, and he rests his large hands on your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close. He sways you to the music as he softly sings, cheeks dusted in pink, and you pull him even closer, resting your head on his chest.

Simple intimacy. That is what you and Jeon Jungkook are made of, and you think, if he’d ask you to lay here, in this moment, you’d lie with him until eternity took you in its hold. Until you’d be nothing more than dust between the stars - remembrance of what was once great.

But April is looming closer, a giant towering over the both of you, one step away from crushing you under its boot.

“You know,” Jungkook says while the song continues in the background.

“Mmh?” you let out, looking up to meet his gaze.

His eyes are heavy with emotions, and you swim in them, bathe in them. You feel complete, cherished, and you hope he knows you feel the same way.

You hope he knows you’ve been falling in love with him despite the odds.

“I’ve never been like this with anyone before,” he admits, his voice gentle. “I’ve had situationships, I guess, but nothing like us.”

You smile softly, your heart racing in your chest. “Me neither. You’re the first.”

It’s true. Though you’ve sort of dated Sam Hwang for a few weeks during the summer, it was nothing like it is with Jungkook.

Sam Hwang never looked at you the way that Jungkook looks at you.

Jungkook leans forward, resting his forehead against yours as he keeps on swaying you both to the music, the song nearing its last chorus. Your eyes flutter shut from the proximity, and your breaths mingle as you fall silent for a few seconds.

“I love having firsts with you,” he whispers.

You almost reply that you love him. The moment calls for it - the atmosphere is that of romance, the music is close to your soul, and he… He’s the blood in your veins and the oxygen in your lungs. Yet you can’t say it - you’ve never told anyone you loved them before. And you’re not even sure you truly love him. Yes, you have feelings, but everything is overshadowed by the knowledge that you’re bound to end.

You don’t want to tell him you love him and make it too real only to have him slip from your fingers the second Taehyung learns.

“Me too,” you instead reply. “I love spending time with you.”

It’s as close to the truth as you’ll get, and he allows it, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. It’s slow, patient, like the whole universe will pause for you two. He pulls away when the song ends, bending to grab his phone on the table.

He restarts the song, and the second his phone is back on the table again, you pull him back in, tiptoeing to kiss him again. He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tight against him, and you sigh at the pillowy softness of his mouth, at the way his piercings feel just right pressing indents in your lip. His free hand cups your cheek, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head to the side.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, almost hesitantly, but you open up for him immediately, tasting the rosé in his mouth as he kisses you deeply, languidly. The kiss never accelerates, yet it’s infinitely passionate.

Much like that first kiss you’d exchange, during the power outage on Valentine’s Day.

You think you knew then - he’d kissed you so softly, like you were fragile, just a flower petal a second from being blown away. Even then, he’d cared for you, and it’d scared you.

But there’s nothing scary about this. There’s nothing scary about the way he gently hikes your shirt up to slide his hand underneath it, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. There’s nothing scary about the way he sighs when you run your hands through his hair, gently tugging at the soft strands. There’s nothing scary about the way he backs you towards the couch, spinning around at the last second so that he can sit down.

There’s nothing scary about him pulling you in, always, so that you straddle his lap, connecting your mouths again a second later. No, it’s only natural. He’s the wind and you the leaves. He’s the sun that shines on you, his moon.

You were always meant to collide after all, and though the aftermath might be terrifying, all you can do right now is enjoy it while it lasts.

Jungkook tentatively grinds up, his arousal evident as he presses against your clothed self. You let out a breathy sound that makes him push his tongue in your mouth, and you suck on it, earning a grunt from him as his hands drop to your hips to drag you on him again. You grab at the hem of his shirt, disconnecting your mouths just long enough to pull the fabric off him, and then you’re kissing him again, crashing your lips on his hard enough that you think you taste blood, though you don’t care.

You just want him. Need him, so viscerally you think you’ll combust.

“Peach,” Jungkook lets out as you move to his neck.

Unable to resist, you suck a hickey on him, a bright purple mark on the spot where his shoulder connects with his neck. He groans, leaning his head back against the couch to give you better access as you lick at the spot, soothing the sting.

When you straighten, Jungkook meets your gaze, his chest quickly going up and down. You’re just as out of breath as him, and when he reaches for the hem of your shirt, you let him take it off you, leaving you in only your black lace bralette. He looks at your breasts, cupping them in his large hands as he sighs appreciatively.

“Every time it’s like you get more beautiful,” he murmurs, and he looks up at you then, his eyes crinkled at the corners in what you can only call adoration.

“Kook…”

His hands return to your waist, and he wets his lips, playing with his piercings. You grind against him, and his eyes immediately flutter shut.

“You think we can fuck out here?” you tease, rolling your hips.

“On the couch that your brother bought,” he replies, and there’s something so sinful about the thought that you know you’ll do it.

It’s not like Taehyung is around and will know.

So you bend forward, capturing Jungkook’s mouth in another languid kiss while you unbutton his pants. When the button comes undone, you straighten, standing between his legs so that you can pull the jeans down his legs. You leave the boxers on, eyeing his length as you kneel, hands resting on his thighs.

“Can I suck your dick?” you ask.

He chuckles. “Yes. But please be quick, I want to be buried inside of you.”

You narrow your gaze at him, but let out a laugh despite yourself.

You focus on his dick again then, on the wet spot at the top where his purple underwear has turned darker. You bend forward, littering small kisses along his shaft, and you tentatively lick at the wet spot, the taste of his precum filling your mouth. And though you’d planned to tease him, to be the brat you know he likes, you give in right away, pulling his boxers down just enough so that you can lick at his slit.

He lets out a breathy sound that has you bite your lip as you look up at him through your lashes. He’s got his head thrown back, eyes closed, and from this angle, all you can see is his sharp jaw.

You pull his boxers down more, and he helps you by raising his ass for a few seconds. His dick springs free, already rock hard, and you immediately grab the base to hold it up as you finish taking off his boxers, letting them tangle around his ankles. You’re quick to lick a long stripe from between his balls up to the tip of his cock, and then you take him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him.

He bucks his hips, fucking up into your mouth, and you moan when he hits the back, your eyes immediately watering.

He lets you lead after that, hands lost in your hair as you bob your head up and down, working him closer to his high. You love the feel of him in your mouth, love the way he grunts and praises you under his breath, and you think you’d be able to come from just hearing him, pleasuring him.

It doesn’t get to that though. When Jungkook truly nears his high, he pulls you away from his dick, and you meet his gaze to see his pupils are blown wide, filled with so much lust all you can do is obey when he says, “Go get a condom in my room, mmh?”

You nod, and you get up to walk towards his room, feeling his gaze burning on you as you pass the threshold and head to the night table. You pull a condom out, and you walk back to the living room to find Jungkook jerking himself off, his grip on his dick tight enough you know it has to hurt a little.

“Put it on for me,” he says, and he stops jerking off, holding his dick up for you.

You sit next to him, pulling the condom out of the tinfoil package, and then you roll it on his dick. He hisses as you do so, but the second it’s on he pushes you back until you’re lying on the couch and he’s hovering over you.

His hair falls in his eyes, and you quickly push the strands back. He leans in, pressing his lips on yours for a kiss far softer than what you expected, and you smile against him.

He grins when he pulls away, eyes shining with lust and adoration again, and then he’s taking off your pants, taking his sweet time. Kissing every inch of skin revealed, from your inner thigh to a spot below your knee. He stops after that, instead eyeing the wet spot on your underwear, and then he pulls at his piercings, sending you a dark look that makes you go molten.

“I want to fuck you in this,” he says as he finishes taking off your pants, his free hand going to your hip where he traces your underwear. “Want to ruin your panties.”

“Do it,” you challenge him.

He doesn’t need to hear more before he’s returning over you, and his hand pushes your panties to the side so that he can run a finger between your folds, and then circle your clit. You grind your hips, seeking more friction, but Jungkook doesn’t oblige, instead pulling his finger away from your pussy.

“Be patient,” he whispers, and then he kisses you again.

The kiss is feathersoft, gentle, and you lose yourself in the very essence of him. You don’t care - you just want this moment, forever. A scene constantly replaying, away from the atrocity of the world, with your favourite song as the background music.

“Please,” you beg in a soft murmur when he pulls away from your lips, and this time he obliges, returning his hand to your pussy. This time, he pushes in, and you sigh against him as your walls clench around his digit.

“You’re already so wet,” he says, and then he’s kissing you again, his tongue lapping at yours.

You moan in his mouth, hands lightly scratching his back as he adds a second finger. You can hear squelching sounds between your legs, and you’d be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good that you can’t form a single coherent thought.

“Fuck,” you curse, and Jungkook chuckles, pecking your cheek.

“You take my fingers so well, peach,” he praises. “Will you take my cock just as well?”

You moan again, and you nod your head yes. “Yeah. Please.”

He smirks, pulling his fingers out of you. You both eye them - they’re covered in your juices, and it’s decadent, sinful.

Even more so when Jungkook puts them in his mouth to clean them thoroughly, drinking in your juices.

“So sweet,” he whispers after, and then he shifts, straightening between your legs so that he can align his dick with your entrance, your panties still pushed to the side. He meets your gaze, his own dark with lust. “How do you want me tonight?” he asks, rubbing his dick on you slowly.

“Just fuck me, but come near,” you say, pulling on one of his wrists so that he leans over you again.

He smiles, infinitely soft despite what you’re doing, and then he pushes in, ever so slowly. Inch after inch, Jungkook spears you with his dick until he bottoms out. He stills there, and you wrap your legs around his dainty waist to keep him as close as possible. He obliges, stealing a deep kiss on your lips, and he slowly pulls out before slamming to the hilt again, and you moan in his mouth.

The rhythm he establishes is slow and steady. Deep, in a way that makes you see stars in his gaze. Or maybe that’s just the way the light reflects in his eyes, or the emotions still swirling in the depths of him. You don’t know. All that you know is that you’re falling and falling, with no chance to ever stop now.

You’ve crossed too many lines to ever be able to stop. So you’ll enjoy it while it lasts. Chase all the cars around his head until you can’t anymore, until the last nail is in the coffin and you have to say goodbye to this, to him.

But for now, you enjoy. And you enjoy as best as you can, eyes fluttering shut as he slightly picks up the pace, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You hold him close, arms and legs tight around him, and you moan as he makes love to you.

At least that’s what this feels like. And you wouldn’t want it any other way. You just want the warm proximity of his body on yours, of his lips kissing your mouth. Jungkook gives you all, and you hope he knows you’re giving all to him in return.

Everything. You’ll give him everything until you have nothing left to give, if he so takes it.

“Fuck, peach,” he whispers. He slows down his rhythm, meets your gaze. “I’m really in love with this pussy of yours.”

You know why he says it that way. Know exactly what he truly means but can’t say, and you take that too, keep it locked up in a safe corner of your heart.

“I know,” you whisper, cupping his cheek, and he rests his forehead on yours again.

“I’ll fuck you like this every day,” he says, and it sounds like a promise.

A promise that maybe you’ll make it past your brother’s return.

“Please do,” you beg, and then you’re kissing again, and he’s pounding into you harder, seeking completion for the both of you.

You come before him. Nails digging in his back while you arch yours, walls pulsing around him. That’s what sends him over the edge, and Jungkook climaxes, his head falling in the crook of your neck as he comes and comes.

He’d paint you white if it wasn’t for the condom, and the thought makes you grind your hips instinctively. He kisses your neck in retaliation, and you moan softly, tilting your head to give him better access.

When you’ve come down from the high, you glance towards the coffee table and your abandoned game of Ticket to Ride. The sight makes you laugh, and you press a soft kiss on the mole on Jungkook’s neck as he asks, “What’s got you laughing?”

“We never finished the game,” you remind him.

He lifts his head just enough to look at the coffee table. “Damn,” he lets out. “I totally forgot about that.”

You can’t blame him. When you’re together, you forget about everything, too - he becomes the center of your universe. And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Should we finish it?” you ask.

He meets your gaze, pecks your forehead once. “Shower first?”

You can’t say no to those big doe eyes, so you follow him to the bathroom.

And while he washes your back, you hear the clock ticking, your expiration date looming closer with every second that passes.

Saturday, April 13th

The movie theatre is packed.

You’re waiting in line for popcorn with Nabi, Namjoon and Ria, while Seokjin, Hoseok and Yoongi go to the bathroom. The hall of the movie theatre is loud, and you’ve been standing in silence with your friends as you wait for your turn, though you’ve been eyeing the menu as you’re trying to decide what to order.

You settle on a medium-sized bag of popcorn to share with Yoongi, and Namjoon and Ria grab different candies and chocolate bars for themselves and your other friends. You’re walking towards your movie room when you notice an all-too recognizable tattooed boy, who stands taller than the group that surrounds him.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and he grins broadly as he waves at you.

Four pairs of eyes turn to look at you - Jimin, Sera, Lisa and Eunwoo - and you smile at them, though your gaze quickly shifts back to Jungkook.

You’d told him you were coming to the movies with your friends before going out for drinks. You’re not surprised he’s decided to pull up - despite everything you’ve told him, he’s jealous of your friendship with Yoongi. Which you reckon is funny - Yoongi is trying to fix things with Hoseok, and all you’ve been doing is offer help to him when he needs it.

You don’t think the relationship is fixable, but you haven’t had the strength to break it to Yoongi yet. Not when they had a moment last week, and he’s been far too happy about it since then.

You walk over to where Jungkook’s standing, your friends in tow. It’s hard to stop yourself from hugging him, but you manage to do it, instead greeting everyone and smiling at Jimin as he asks what movie you’re going to see.

“Dune 2,” you reply.

Jimin snorts, saying, “Thought so.”

It sounds ominous, and you slightly furrow your brows, glancing towards Jungkook. He only shrugs his shoulders as he purses his lips.

And that’s how you end up mixing friend groups for the movie. You’re not surprised when Jungkook manages to sit on your left - he’s clearly been scheming for this all along. Yoongi, entirely oblivious, sits on your right.

“I haven’t even seen the first movie,” Yoongi says as he leans towards you. He quickly glances further down the row, where Hoseok sat with Namjoon and Nabi.

Jungkook mirrors Yoongi, and he’s so close you catch a whiff of the detergent he uses to wash his clothes. “It was practically a walking simulator in the desert. Not much to miss.”

Yoongi nods, sitting back in his seat. He offers you a knowing look, and then turns towards Seokjin and Ria on his other side, joining whatever conversation they’re having. You purse your lips, before sliding your gaze back to Jungkook.

“What are you doing here?” you ask through gritted teeth.

“My friends wanted to see the movie,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “Thought we could go at the same time.”

You look up to the ceiling, though a smile is playing at the corners of your lips. “What a coincidence.”

He grins. “What a coincidence indeed.”

It makes you chuckle, and before you can say anything else, the light of the movie theatre dims, leaving you in only the glow of the screen as it comes to life.

You eat your popcorn as many movie trailers pass on the screen, Yoongi taking some once in a while. The movie starts when you’re halfway done with the bag, and soon you’re lost in the scenes, too focused to eat.

That’s when Jungkook strikes, stealing a handful of popcorn from your bag.

“Hey!” you whisper-shout, and he winks at you as he eats a mouthful of the snack.

“What?” he whispers back once he’s swallowed.

“That’s mine.”

He flicks your nose, leaning closer to say directly in your ear, “What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours, peach.”

You narrow your gaze. “You haven’t even bought any snacks.”

He shrugs. “I knew I’d steal yours.”

You roll your eyes, slightly shaking your head as you look back towards the screen, and he chuckles softly. Scenes flash in front of your eyes, and you get lost in the action. It might be an hour later, or just a few minutes, when Jungkook pokes your knee, attracting your attention.

You glance at him, but he’s focusing on the screen, his skin looking honey-like in the light. You furrow your brows in question, but when he doesn’t say anything, you shrug, looking back at the screen.

He does it again thirty seconds later, and this time he’s stifling a laugh when you glance at him.

“What do you want?” you whisper as you lean closer to him.

“You,” he replies simply, his eyes darkening as he meets your gaze.

You gulp. “We’re in the middle of a movie theatre with all of our friends.”

“I know,” he says, shrugging. “I’ve just been thinking of how you feel around my…”

You punch his shoulder before he can finish his sentence, and Lisa throws you a look that makes you sit back in your seat, folding your arms on your chest.

“Just focus on the movie, Kook,” you mumble.

He chuckles again, but before he can say anything else, Lisa nudges him. He glances at her, leaning closer when she whispers something you can’t quite hear.

His whole demeanour changes after that, and he sits back in his chair, a slight pout on his lips. Gone is the playfulness, but you think it’s safer that way. He’s way too obvious when you’re in public, and though Taehyung still hasn’t said a thing, you know it’s bound to explode in your face soon.

Jungkook is leaving for Paris in just a few weeks after all.

It douses you, and you finish watching the movie with a lump in your throat, one that doesn’t disappear even when you’re at the bar later, your friend group mixing with Jungkook’s far too easily. Of course, Jungkook notices, and he sits next to you, nudging you.

You glance at him, noticing the concern in his eyes.

“Is something wrong?” he asks.

“No,” you lie, but he sees through it immediately.

“Is it your cramps?”

You’re on your period. Obviously, he knows, and he’s been sweet about it, buying you snacks and putting his hands, always warm, on your lower stomach while you cuddle.

You purse your lips, shaking your head. The concern doesn’t disappear from his features though, and you feel bad. Enough so that you say, “I’m just…”

You trail off as Lisa appears, sitting on the other side of Jungkook with two beers in hand. She gives one to Jungkook, who thanks her quickly before setting his gaze on you again. Yet she lingers, and you find yourself unable to speak, shrugging your shoulders.

“If there’s anything, just let me know,” Jungkook says, and he offers you a small smile that does nothing to tame the worry in his gaze. “I don’t mind heading home earlier.”

You nod once, and the conversation dies as Hoseok appears on the other side of the table, cheeks red with the shots he’s already downed.

“Not drinking tonight?” he asks you.

You shrug. “Not really in the mood.”

Hoseok narrows his gaze in his suspicion. “I’ve never seen you not in the mood to drink.”

You chuckle. “Well, now you have.”

You’re relieved when he lets it go, especially as you sensed Jungkook tensing by your side, an indication that he was going to intervene if Hoseok didn’t drop it. There’s a short silence, during which you notice Hoseok looking at Yoongi where he’s drinking with Namjoon and Seokjin, a few tables over.

You glance at Jungkook, motioning towards Hoseok. Jungkook frowns, not understanding, and you quickly pull out your phone to text him.

[10:37 pm] You: i want to talk to hobi about yoongi but not in front of you guys

Jungkook pulls out his phone to read your message. He doesn’t reply, yet he nods, turning towards Lisa. “Where are Sera and Jimin?”

“Ordering something at the bar,” Lisa replies, entirely unaware. “Why?”

“Want shots?”

Lisa beams under Jungkook’s gaze, and you taste bile in your mouth as they get up and walk away together, Jungkook shooting you a quick glance over his shoulder.

You can complain all you want about Jungkook being jealous of Yoongi, but you’re just as jealous of Lisa after all.

“What’s up with you and Yoongi?” you ask when they’re out of earshot, gaining Hoseok’s attention.

“Man…” he trails off. “I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel.”

“Is that why you’ve decided to switch universities?”

You’ve been asking yourself that question for weeks, but Hoseok has been good at avoiding you, clearly realizing that you’ve grown closer to Yoongi.

Hoseok widens his gaze, and the blush on his cheeks deepens. “No? I said it’s because I’m following a professor.”

“What professor?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow.

Hoseok shrugs, his eyes dropping to a knot in the wood of the table. “Why do you care?”

“You’re my friend,” you remind him. “No matter the history that we have. I’d be sad to see you go.”

He chuckles, and it’s a lot more bitter than you ever expected to hear him. “Listen, I don’t really want to be questioned. Is Yoongi the one that asked you to ask me this?”

“No,” you say. “Not at all. I’m just worried about you.”

“About me?” he repeats. “I’m all good, Y/n.”

He doesn’t sound convincing at all, so you say, “Just make sure you don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“I already did,” he admits, and his glance towards Yoongi is far too telling. “I’m not into him like that. I don’t even know if I’m into men like that.”

“Have you told him?”

He shrugs. “Here and there. I think he knows.”

You think so too, as Yoongi had mentioned it when you’d studied together a few weeks ago.

“Just make sure you’re honest with him, and honest with yourself,” you say after a few beats of silence.

Hoseok purses his lips, nodding once. “Will do.”

The air turns awkward as Hoseok just keeps on staring at the knot in the wood. You feel bad - you used to be a lot closer to him, and in just a few weeks, your relationship shifted. But you think it might be for the better - you can’t imagine how Jungkook would feel if you were close to someone you used to sleep with, considering he’s jealous of a friend you’ve never done anything with.

Not that that would stop you from being friends with someone. Especially not when April 29th is coming soon, and with it, your situationship - you’re not sure you can call it a relationship - will end.

“Where are you moving?” you ask.

“San Diego,” he replies quickly, and a shy smile appears on his lips, like the thought excites him. “I can’t wait to not have to deal with winter anymore.”

“I can imagine,” you say, chuckling. “Though winter wasn’t too bad this year.”

“If there was an inch of snow then it was bad.” He says it wisely, and this time you laugh as he breaks into a smile.

The conversation is easier after that. Still heavy, because you both know the friendship likely won’t survive the distance, but you still manage to have fun as you speak about classes, about life, and about what he’ll do once he’s in California. Half an hour passes like that, and then you move to the bar, agreeing to grab a single drink.

You settle on an Amaretto Sour, and Ria and Nabi join you at the bar. You end up doing Lychee bombs with them, and then you follow them all back to the table where the rest of your friends are, along with Jimin, Sera and Jungkook.

You’re relieved to see Lisa isn’t there. Not that she’s not nice. She always is, despite her obvious attraction towards Jungkook. And though she clearly senses that something’s happening between you and Jungkook, she’s never said anything, and you respect her for it.

You sit between Nabi and Ria, and Nabi quickly melts against Namjoon next to her. You snort at the sight, turning to say it to Ria, who seems to be in a staring contest with Seokjin across the table.

You don’t really know what’s happening between the two. Ria mentioned that she’s not interested in him, saying he’s just gotten out of a relatively long relationship, and you’re not close enough to Seokjin to know his opinion.

You’re just observant, and you know just how much the air fills with electricity when these two are concerned. Lightning is bound to strike at some point, and you just hope it does so without hurting anyone.

You wonder, is that how the people around you perceive you and Jungkook?

The evening unfolds, calmer than your usual outings - you find yourself going home just a little after midnight. Jungkook’s with you, and he unlocks the door as you slowly walk up the stairs, shooting you a glance.

“You sure everything’s okay?” he asks as you finally reach the top.

You purse your lips, meeting his gaze. The streetlight down the stairs reflects in his gaze, and he looks angelic, innocent like this.

“Yeah, I’m just…” you trail off. “You’re leaving soon.”

His features soften, and he opens the door for you to walk in, following behind you. “I know,” he says once he’s shut the door.

You turn the lights on, meeting his gaze. Unable to help yourself, you cup his cheek, thumb swiping at his skin. “Want to share a bed tonight?” you ask.

As if you haven’t been sharing a bed for weeks already.

“Yes, of course,” he immediately agrees, and he covers your hand with his own, tugging you closer. “If you kiss me first.”

That makes you smile, like only he knows to do, and you tiptoe, pressing your lips on his in a featherlike peck.

“That doesn’t count,” he complains, lips jutting out in a small pout.

“Then kiss me,” you challenge. “Kiss me stupid.”

You don’t need to ask twice - he closes the distance between your mouths, lips ravaging yours, and you lose your hands in his hair.

Later, after you’ve sucked his dick in the shower - you don’t like having sex on your period, but you still wanted to make him feel good - you lie down in your bed, the fairy lights making the atmosphere far gentler than it should be.

It’s treacherous, and you lie with your head on Jungkook’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Chasing Cars is playing on his speaker, and you hold him tighter, putting all of your love in the act. He kisses the top of your head, mouth lingering against you.

“I’m happy you came tonight,” you admit. Indeed, despite the anxiety of Taehyung learning, you like hanging out with Jungkook. Like spending as much time as possible with him right now - the clock is ticking after all, and the sound resembles that of a bomb about to go off.

“Me too,” he whispers.

You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “Have you talked to Taehyung recently?”

The question takes him aback, and his eyebrows knit together. “I speak to him almost every day, why?”

Because you’ve been avoiding your brother like the plague. Because you know the second you speak to Taehyung, you’ll blurt out the truth, and you’re not ready to face his reaction yet.

You doubt you’ll ever be ready.

“How is he and the girl doing?” you ask. “Ariane?”

“Good,” Jungkook answers. “They’re pretty much official now.”

Your lips stretch in a thin line, and you rest your head on his chest again.

You don’t want him to see the jealousy in your gaze.

“Good for him.” It sounds just as flat as you feel - like a tire pierced with a nail, emptied of all air.

Jungkook must feel it too, because his grip around you tightens, like he’s trying to fuse your bodies together. As if it’d save you from the looming heartbreak.

“We’ll figure it out,” Jungkook whispers a while later, when you thought he was asleep.

You hope he doesn’t take your silence personal - you just don’t think you can figure it out.

Taehyung would never let it happen. So silence is what you offer Jungkook, and you wonder if the beat his heart skips is an indication that he’s breaking, much like you are breaking too.

Sunday, April 28th

Time goes by fast. Sometimes, you think it’s even faster when you’re trying to hold on to something - like sand slipping through the fingers of a fist held tight, time has been slipping away.

The end is near.

You’re sitting on Jungkook’s bed, watching him as he packs his suitcase. He’s been lazy, stopping often so that he can kiss you, hold you. He’s been clingy lately, much like you’ve been.

Like you’ve been trying to fit a whole relationship in just a few weeks.

Jungkook lifts his head from his sock drawer, meeting your gaze. He smiles, but there’s sadness behind his pupils, lurking in the depths of his eyes. You want to take it away, but all you manage to do is smile a weak smile.

“I wonder if they’ll want to go to the Catacombs,” Jungkook says.

He’s been saying random stuff once in a while as he packs, grasping for a conversation you haven’t been able to join in. But you try, you always try, and you know he’s not mad at you for it.

Jungkook could never be mad at you.

It’s strange how he changed in the last four months. You think back on the Incident, that dreaded Incident you had believed to be the most embarrassing thing in your life. Today, you know it wasn’t. It was the start of something great, something you wish never had an expiration date.

But nothing gold can stay, or so they say.

“I bet they’re creepy,” you answer. “Not sure I’d go if I were you.”

“I assume you’re the kind of person who gets scared while watching horror movies too, huh?” Jungkook teases, and he walks towards you, hands full of socks.

He drops them in the suitcase at your feet as you slightly shake your head, a teasing smirk growing on your lips. You doubt it meets your eyes, but it’s the best you can do.

“Says you, who prefers watching romance over action,” you tease.

Indeed, the first few times you’ve watched movies together, he’s suggested going for action first. But he never once appeared disappointed when you chose a romance movie, instead beaming at you as he nodded enthusiastically. It was adorable, endearing, like everything is when it comes to Jungkook.

You can hardly believe he used to sleep around, used to be the most renowned fuckboy in your college. Nowadays, Jungkook appears more like a hopeless romantic, and it’s easy to figure out why.

As someone who never received love from his family, he’s been craving it his whole life. At least you think so, and you’ve been giving it to him, pouring it to him, by actions rather than words.

“Nothing beats romance,” he declares, and you chuckle as he plops down on the bed next to you.

You turn your head towards him as he lies down, one hand on his chest.

“Is that why you cry in every movie?”

He frowns, a pout adorning his lips. “I don’t.”

You cock an eyebrow, because obviously he does, and you both burst out laughing at the same time.

No matter how dreaded the circumstances are, the chemistry between you and Jeon Jungkook is undeniable. And as you look at him, you wonder if there’s a universe out there where you’re allowed to be with him. Where older brothers aren’t a thing, and where you get to call him yours, to scream it from the rooftops.

It douses your enthusiasm, and your smile falls as you look away.

Jungkook sits up, cupping your cheek to force you to look at him again. He scans your features for a few seconds, and you stare at his eyebrow piercing, as if that will keep you from crumbling.

“You know…” he lets out. He sucks on his lower lip piercings, pulling at them so hard you think it has to hurt. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “I really want to make us work.”

His simple sentence empties everything in your head, in your soul, until there’s just him left.

“But how?”

“I’ll speak to Taehyung,” he says, for what has to be the thousandth time. Indeed, you’ve had that conversation before, but you never once agreed. “I’ll speak to him in Paris, and then when I come back this doesn’t have to be over.”

“This?” you repeat.

“Us.”

You sigh, and you look between his eyes. Hope lights his gaze, and you think there has to be a museum out there to exhibit such beauty.

Jungkook is breathtaking in every way that matters.

“Tae will kill you,” you say, and the hope slowly withers like flowers in the fall. “Try to have a nice trip instead.”

“Then we can talk to him when I come back,” Jungkook suggests. “Together. I can use you as a human shield if he tries to kill me.”

You snort, and the hope reignites in his gaze. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then he’ll be mad,” Jungkook simply states. “I don’t want to lose you, peach.”

Fuck. You’re in love, and you’re in love deep.

“You might lose his friendship,” you say, but your resolve is melting away far quicker than you expected. Because he’s offering you a silver lining, a life vest in the storm that’s been raging inside your head for weeks.

“I honestly don’t care,” Jungkook says, but you see it in his eyes: he cares, and he’d be hurt. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”

You highly doubt so but… what if he does? What if he forgives Jungkook, forgives you?

Then you wouldn’t need to travel to another universe. You’d have this one, and you’d have Jungkook.

Maybe you should try.

“Are you sure?” you ask, voice smaller than the atoms holding your body together.

He nods vehemently. “I am. 100%. I don’t want to lose you when we’ve barely just started.”

“Kook…”

He kisses you then, as if he needs to show you with action instead of words. You end up tangled in his bed, your bodies connected on a level deeper than the physical, yet you wouldn’t dare say it. And he doesn’t either, not even when you inevitably go to bed later that evening.

You’re nestled in his embrace, a few minutes after he’s turned his LED lights off, when you say, “Kook?”

“Mmh?”

“Don’t talk to Tae in Paris,” you say. “We’ll wait for you to come back. And we’ll talk to him together.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Okay. If that’s your wish, then I can do it.” He’d said so earlier after all.

You nod. “I think it’s better if it comes from us both instead of just you.”

“Makes sense.” Jungkook kisses your forehead, and a soft smile spreads on your lips. “And peach?”

“Yeah?” you murmur.

“If you miss me too much, feel free to sleep in my bed and wear my clothes, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kisses your forehead again, and despite the words exchanged, you fear it might mean goodbye.

Prev | Chapter 10.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

no but why did I forget how sad this chapter was? Help, they are so afraid to lose each other :') anywayyys what did you guys think about this chapter? Did you like it?? Please let me know:)

#chasing cars ch 10 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswritersclub #chasing cars #chasing cars series

673 notes · View notes

cloudyluun · 2 months ago

Text

London Fever (p3) | neighbour!harry

Summary: The internet explodes when photos of Harry leaving your apartment go viral, thrusting you into the public eye. While Harry’s team scrambles to control the narrative, you’re left to deal with the fallout alone. Frustrated and hurt by his silence, you make a bold move—one designed to get his attention. But when the game of jealousy spirals out of control, the tension between you ignites in a way neither of you can deny. Passion, frustration, and raw emotion collide in a moment that changes everything, but when morning comes, reality crashes back in.

A/N: If pettiness was a sport, you and Harry would be Olympic gold medalists. This chapter is the deliciously toxic mix of angst, jealousy, and 🔥 tension that makes bad decisions feel so good. Remember, no brain cells were harmed in the making of this fic—but feelings? That’s another story. Enjoy!!

Word Count: 5,4k

Warnings:

Public scrutiny & online harassment

Toxic communication & jealousy

Possessiveness & heavy angst

Emotionally charged smut (18+)

Public confrontation & smoking

Strong language

Questionable decision-making fueled by unresolved tension

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The internet is on fire.

You wake to the relentless buzzing of your phone, vibrating against the wooden nightstand like it might rattle itself to the floor. Calls. Texts. Notifications piling up faster than you can clear them.

Your stomach knots as you stare at the screen, the blinding glow of your phone casting harsh shadows across the room. You don’t need to look. You already know.

The moment you tap open your social media, the reality crashes down.

"Harry Styles’ Secret Romance Exposed!" "Mystery Girl Identified—Who Is She?" "Meet the Woman Who Stole Harry’s Heart—And Kept It a Secret."

Your name is everywhere. Your photos. Your old tweets and Instagram posts, dissected, analyzed, twisted into narratives you don’t control.

Strangers pick apart your life like vultures tearing into fresh prey.

Who is she? What does she do? Why hasn’t she spoken about him before?

Some are convinced you’re a gold-digger. Others claim you’re a long-time fan who manipulated your way into his bed.

Threads with thousands of comments unearth every public detail about your past—your exes, your childhood hometown, even a blurry yearbook photo from when you were sixteen.

You can’t breathe.

Your hands are shaking as you scroll, past the speculation, past the hate, past the fans who have already decided whether they love or loathe you.

A single picture changes everything.

The one that went viral first. The one taken at 4 a.m., when Harry left your apartment. His curls disheveled, hoodie pulled low, jaw tense as he stepped into a waiting car.

The damage is done.

You barely process the calls flooding in before one name flashes across your screen.

Harry.

You hesitate.

And then—you silence the call.

—

Harry doesn’t get a chance to speak before his team does.

By the time he arrives at the meeting, the decision has already been made for him.

"We need to control the narrative," they say.

A public statement. A carefully worded message, something that downplays it, spins the focus elsewhere.

They slide a phone across the table. A draft already typed out, waiting for his approval.

"Harry is currently focused on his career and has no further comment on speculation regarding his personal life."

It’s detached. Impersonal. Exactly what they need it to be.

But when he reads it, all he can think about is you.

He can still see the way you looked at him before you left. The way your voice wavered when you said, So that’s it?

He had let you walk away.

Now, you’re out there, drowning in the fallout while he’s sitting in a boardroom, signing off on a statement that does nothing to protect you.

But this is how it has to be.

That’s what they tell him.

And maybe, just maybe—he lets himself believe it.

—

He calls you that night.

You don’t answer.

A text follows. We need to lay low for a while.

Three dots appear. Disappear.

Then, finally, a response.

Understood.

No fight. No argument. Just… distance.

He tells himself it’s for the best.

But the truth festers beneath his skin.

You know.

Know he’s protecting himself. His image. His career. Not you.

And when that realization sinks in—when the sting of rejection turns into something sharp, something hollow—you make a decision of your own.

—

The restaurant is dimly lit, all warm candlelight and quiet jazz.

You barely know the man sitting across from you. He’s handsome—dark hair, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, easy charm that fills the silence when you don’t bother speaking.

You don’t need to say much.

You just need the cameras to see you.

Need the paparazzi to catch the way your fingers brush against his across the table. The way you smile, lean in just enough, laughter spilling softly past your lips.

It’s calculated.

It’s a performance.

And you make sure the pictures surface.

Make sure he sees them.

—

Harry clenches his jaw so tight it aches.

The phone screen burns in his hands, the headline flashing in bold print.

"Harry’s Mystery Girl Moves On—Spotted on a Romantic Date Night."

There you are. In another man’s arms.

Your lips painted red. Your dress clinging to every curve. Your smile—bright, dazzling, meant for someone else.

His fingers curl into fists.

He tells himself he doesn’t care.

But when he finds out you’ll be at the club that night—

He makes sure he’s there, too.

—

You don’t dress to impress—you dress to destroy.

The black dress is an old favorite. Short. Tight. Sinful. It clings to your body like a second skin, dipping low in the front, riding high on your thighs, leaving just enough to the imagination while ensuring every eye in the room is on you.

Your makeup is meticulous—dark, smoky eyes, lips painted the same scarlet shade you know he loves. The shade he once smeared across your skin in the heat of a moment neither of you could take back.

But tonight, it’s war paint.

You know he’ll be there.

And when you step inside, you feel it instantly.

His eyes.

A slow, searing heat crawling up the length of your body before you even spot him across the room.

He’s at the bar, one hand wrapped around a glass, the other resting against his thigh, fingers tapping idly. Casual. Unbothered. But his jaw is clenched tight, his throat bobbing as he swallows back whatever reaction is clawing its way to the surface.

He looks good. Infuriatingly so.

Dark trousers, a silk button-down left undone just enough to reveal a teasing sliver of ink and bronzed skin. Rings glinting under the dim neon lights.

You don’t give him the satisfaction of staring too long.

Instead, you order a drink and down half of it in one go before reaching for a cigarette.

You don’t even like smoking.

But you remember the way he once told you he hates it.

Remember the disgust in his voice, the crease between his brows.

So you light up.

Take a slow, deliberate drag, letting the smoke curl past your lips before exhaling toward the ceiling.

The glass in his hand tightens.

You watch, catching the minute shift in his expression, the way his fingers flex before wrapping tighter around the drink.

He hates it.

Good.

You don’t stop there.

You move to the dance floor, slipping between bodies, letting the music sink into your bones, letting the bass thrum through your chest like a second heartbeat.

You don’t dance to the beat. You dance to be watched.

And you are.

Hands find your waist—ones that aren’t his. A stranger, tall and broad, pressing in behind you. He leans in, murmuring something low in your ear, something you don’t even register because you don’t care.

You laugh anyway.

Not because it’s funny, but because you know Harry is watching.

You know exactly what you’re doing.

And when you place a teasing hand on your date’s chest, fingertips skimming over fabric as if you’re actually considering leaving with him—

That’s when Harry snaps.

It happens fast.

One second, you’re smirking up at the man in front of you, and the next—

A strong hand wraps around your wrist.

Firm. Unyielding.

"Enough."

The word is low, rough, laced with something dark and dangerous.

Your heart hammers against your ribs.

You look up, tilting your head slightly, feigning innocence. "What’s the matter, Harry?"

His jaw ticks. His grip tightens—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who you’re dealing with.

He doesn’t answer.

Doesn’t waste time with words.

Just takes your hand—

And drags you out of the club and into the dark hallway.

The moment the door swings shut behind us, I barely have time to breathe before I’m slammed against the wall.

Hard.

The impact sends a shockwave through my body, my head tipping back against the cold surface as a sharp gasp escapes my lips. But the sound barely gets a chance to settle before Harry is on me.

His body presses in, hot and solid, caging me against the wall. One hand braces beside my head, fingers curling into a fist against the cool concrete, while the other grips my hip so tightly I know I’ll find bruises in the morning.

I don’t care.

Not when he’s this close.

Not when I can feel the anger rolling off him in waves, burning through the space between us, making my skin prickle with anticipation.

His breath is warm against my cheek, uneven, rough, the scent of whiskey mixing with the faint traces of his cologne. His jaw is tight, lips parted, eyes dark—burning, furious, desperate.

"You think this is funny?" he mutters, his voice a low snarl, vibrating against my skin.

A shiver rakes down my spine, but I force it away before he can see. Instead, I smirk. I tilt my chin up just enough to challenge him, my fingertips dragging down the center of his chest, feeling the way his muscles flex beneath my touch.

"I thought you didn’t want this," I whisper, voice light, teasing.

A sharp, humorless laugh leaves him, nothing soft about it. His fingers tighten on my hip, digging in harder, possessive, unforgiving.

"Thought I didn’t either." His nose skims along my jaw, a ghost of a touch that makes my breath hitch, makes heat coil low in my stomach. Then, he grips my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Turns out, I don’t give a fuck."

Then—his mouth crashes against mine.

It’s not gentle. Not careful.

It’s raw. Demanding. A collision of lips and teeth and frustration.

He kisses me like he’s trying to erase the last few hours. Like he’s trying to undo every touch that wasn’t his, every glance I stole across the club, every laugh I let slip for someone else.

Like he wants to punish me for making him feel this way.

His hands move fast—one sliding up, gripping my thigh, hoisting me up before my back slams against the wall again, his body pressing in harder, rougher, leaving no space between us.

I react instantly, legs wrapping around his waist, locking him in. The friction is intoxicating, sharp edges of pleasure curling through me as his hips press into mine, every part of him searing hot, desperate.

"You wanted my attention, sweetheart?" His lips trail down my neck, the words warm against my skin, sending a shudder racing down my spine.

"Now you have it."

A gasp slips past my lips as he nips at the sensitive spot below my ear, his teeth grazing just enough to make my fingers tighten in his hair, to make my hips stutter against him.

But he isn’t done.

One hand moves—grabs my wrists in a firm grip, pinning them above my head, holding me in place, making it impossible to touch him, to pull him closer, to drag my nails down his back the way I so desperately want to.

His other hand—

Rips the lace away.

A sharp, sudden tear.

The sound slices through the tension, making my stomach flip, my chest tighten, a rush of heat pooling low in my belly.

A startled gasp escapes me, my eyes widening, but he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t hesitate.

His fingers skim up the inside of my thigh, teasing, slow, light enough to drive me mad, but never where I need him.

"You were so desperate to make me jealous," he mutters, voice rough, taunting, his fingertips tracing circles against my bare skin, just high enough to make me squirm.

"Let’s see how much you can take."

His mouth replaces his fingers.

A slow, devastating lick between my thighs.

The shock of it makes my head slam back against the wall, a strangled sound tearing from my throat, my body arching toward him on instinct.

He hums against me, a satisfied little noise, before he does it again. Slower.

I can’t think.

Can’t breathe.

All I can do is feel.

"Tell me how bad you want it," he murmurs against my skin, breath hot, a cruel contrast to the cold hallway pressing against my back.

I gasp, fingers curling into fists above my head, back arching, legs tightening around him. "Harry—"

That’s all it takes.

He gives in.

Fast. Rough. Desperate.

There’s no hesitation. No teasing. No slow build.

The wall rattles with each thrust, my moans swallowed by the shadows, by the heavy beat of the music still thumping through the club just beyond the door.

I can’t hold back, can’t bite down the noises spilling from my lips, can’t stop my nails from raking down his back, leaving behind red streaks that I know he’ll feel tomorrow.

His forehead presses against mine, breath ragged, eyes dark, burning. "Say it."

I smirk, tilting my head just enough to whisper against his lips—

"Make me."

His grip tightens.

His pace turns brutal.

"Sweetheart," he groans, voice wrecked, ruined, desperate.

"I fucking will."

The words are a growl, dark and ragged, vibrating against my lips before he claims them again. His kiss is messy, unrestrained, all tongue and teeth, like he’s trying to consume me whole. His hands tighten on my thighs, hoisting me up higher, pressing me harder against the wall.

I gasp into his mouth, barely able to keep up, barely able to do anything but take it.

Take him.

The rhythm of his hips is relentless, punishing, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure so sharp it borders on pain. The wall behind me creaks with the force of it, my body pinned between cold concrete and searing heat.

It’s too much.

It’s not enough.

I’m losing myself, drowning in the way he touches me, in the way he takes me.

One of his hands drags up my body, gripping my wrists again, pinning them above my head, controlling me completely. His other hand—rough, calloused, unforgiving—slides between us, fingers finding where I’m already dripping for him, teasing, circling, wrecking me with every calculated movement.

"You wanted to be seen tonight, didn’t you?" he murmurs against my neck, voice rough, taunting. His fingers flick over my clit, sharp, precise. "Wanted their eyes on you while you acted like a fucking brat."

A whimper catches in my throat, my legs tightening around him, my body jerking at the sensation.

He smirks, teeth grazing my pulse before he soothes the sting with his tongue. "But none of them get to see you like this, do they?"

I shake my head, lips parting, breath uneven.

"None of them get to hear the sounds you make," he continues, his voice like velvet and fire, slipping under my skin, wrapping around my ribs, holding me captive. His fingers press harder, matching the relentless pace of his hips. "None of them get to feel how fucking wet you are for me."

I let out a choked moan, my head tipping back, surrendering completely.

His grip on my wrists tightens. "Say it."

I swallow, barely able to form a coherent thought, my mind fogged over with pleasure, with him.

"Only you," I gasp. "Only you, Harry."

His control snaps completely.

A deep, wrecked groan tears from his throat, his mouth claiming mine in a bruising kiss, swallowing every sound I make as his pace turns brutal, his fingers dragging me higher, higher—

Until I shatter.

It crashes into me all at once, a sharp, blinding wave of pleasure so intense I almost sob from it. My entire body locks up, trembling, shaking, pleasure burning through every nerve, leaving me gasping, weightless.

Harry isn’t far behind.

His hips stutter, his breath falters, and then—

He buries himself deep, groaning my name against my lips as he comes, his entire body shuddering with the force of it.

For a long moment, the only sound between us is our heavy, uneven breathing.

The music still pulses faintly through the walls, muffled by the thick silence of the hallway. My limbs feel boneless, my skin sticky with sweat, my head still spinning.

Harry doesn’t move.

Doesn’t let me go.

Instead, his hands slide down my thighs, gripping them gently, soothing the bruises he just left behind. He presses his forehead against mine, his breath still ragged, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns against my hip.

Neither of us speaks.

Because there’s nothing to say.

Nothing that won’t ruin this.

So I just stay there, legs wrapped around his waist, heart pounding against his.

Pretending, for just a moment, that this is something we can hold onto.

The morning is soft in a way the night never was.

Sunlight filters through the heavy curtains, casting hazy streaks of gold across the sheets, warming my bare skin where it peeks from beneath the tangled fabric. The air is thick with the remnants of last night—his cologne, my perfume, sweat, sex, something heavier than all of it combined.

I’m not supposed to be here.

I should move. Should untangle myself from him before the weight of what we did settles between us, before it turns into something neither of us knows how to deal with.

But then—

His arm tightens around me.

A slow, absentminded pull, like his body knows before his mind does that I’m thinking about leaving. His hand drifts lazily over my skin, fingers tracing light, lazy patterns along my spine.

The touch is thoughtless. Gentle.

It brands itself into me anyway.

I stay still.

I let my eyes slip shut, let my cheek rest against the pillow, let myself pretend, for just a second longer, that this is something more than what it is.

That I could stay.

Then his lips brush against my shoulder. Soft. Barely there.

"Don’t go yet."

His voice is rough, thick with sleep, lower than usual. That perfect rasp that lingers in the morning, all honey and heat, curling around my ribs and sinking into my chest.

I don’t answer right away.

Because I don’t know how to.

I can’t let myself believe that he means it.

Instead, I turn my head slightly, catching sight of him from the corner of my eye. His curls are a mess, sticking out in every direction, a few stubborn strands falling over his forehead.

His face is relaxed in the dim light. No tension in his jaw, no furrow between his brows.

Just… soft.

Too soft.

Like he hasn’t realized yet that the world outside this bed still exists. That there are consequences waiting on the other side of this moment.

I exhale slowly, feeling his fingers still tracing patterns down my spine, lazy and unhurried, like he has nowhere to be.

Like he wants me here.

For a moment, it’s easy.

For a moment, we’re not fighting a losing battle.

—

Then, his phone buzzes.

And the moment shatters.

The vibration hums against the wooden nightstand, a sharp, grating reminder that whatever we thought we had in the safety of the dark doesn’t exist in daylight.

He shifts beside me, his arm slipping away, the warmth of his touch disappearing as he reaches for his phone.

I already know what it is before he even reads the screen.

PR.

Damage control.

The aftermath of a night that never should have happened.

His lips press into a thin line as he scans the message.

Then—he exhales.

Long. Slow. Controlled.

Like he’s steadying himself.

Like he’s about to say something I don’t want to hear.

"We need to be careful."

The words land between us, heavy and careful and deliberate.

I let out a short, humorless laugh.

"Fuck careful."

His head snaps up. His eyes lock onto mine, guarded now, no softness left in them.

"Y/N—"

"This wasn’t supposed to happen," I cut him off, my voice sharper than I intend.

I see the flicker in his expression, something quick, something almost hesitant.

"And yet," he says quietly, fingers twitching at his sides, "it did."

That’s it.

That’s all he says.

Not I want you to stay. Not This means something.

Just—it did.

Like that’s enough. Like that’s supposed to fix the mess we’ve made.

The silence that follows is suffocating.

I can feel it pressing against my ribs, curling around my throat, filling the spaces between everything I want to say and everything I can’t.

I already know how this ends.

I inhale sharply, forcing my hands to move, pushing back the sheets, sitting up even though my body protests, even though my skin still hums with the memory of his touch.

His gaze follows me, unreadable now, his fingers flexing against the sheets like he’s considering reaching for me.

But he doesn’t.

Not last night. Not now.

Not ever.

I find my dress on the floor, slipping it back on with shaky fingers, the fabric sticking to my skin, a stark reminder of everything we did, of how deeply I let him ruin me.

I don’t look at him.

Not when I fix my hair in the mirror.

Not when I slip my shoes back on.

Not when I step toward the door, fingers curling around the handle, pulse hammering in my throat.

I hesitate.

Just for a second.

Just long enough to give him the chance.

To stop me.

To say something, anything, that makes this hurt less.

But he doesn’t.

So I walk out.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like ❤️‍🔥

taglist: @oscahpastry @mema10 @angelbabyyy99 @iloveharrystyles04 @cinemharry @drwho06 @donutsandpalmtrees @panini @mads3502 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @one-sweet-gubler @rizosrizos26 @ciriceimpera @everyscarisahealingplace @hello-heyhi @sexymfharriet @lizsogolden @hannah9921 @chicabonitasblog @huhidontknowstuff @berrywoods1245 @jennovaaa @angeldavis777 @prettygurl-2009 @almostcontentcreator @run-for-the-hills @maudie-duan @dipmeinhoneyh @harrrrystylesslut @georgiarose94 @stylestarkey @watarmelon212 @hopefullimaginer123, @fangirl509east @bethiegurl19 @adoredeanna @secretisme4 @harry2121 @hopefullimaginer123 @fangirl509east @uncassettodiricordi @2601-london @zbaby @harryscherries28

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #cloudyluun's original post

202 notes · View notes