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kaerimichirami · 7 months

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'twenty' + afterword

In three days, I will have lived two decades. No matter how I look at myself in the mirror, what I think is clear: I’m old. Older than expected. Any normal person would think that twenty is oh-so young. It’s just the start. I’m barely an adult. I’m barely formed. I barely have ‘musts’. But that’s not how it feels to me. To me, ever since I took that one conscious breath… and I can’t remember anything from before I was eight or so. Thus, twenty is old. Twenty years of repentance, twenty years since a mistake they insisted so much to make. Twenty years since, I’m responsible for my feelings and the feelings’ of those around. Twenty years of being thrown around, twenty years of being merely an object, merely flesh, guts and fat. Twenty years of being laughed at, twenty years of being scared of noises from afar, twenty years of nightmares, twenty years of bad slept nights, twenty years of being my own child. Twenty years of bearing inside that one thing that makes everyone think it’s okay to hate on me. Twenty years of never deserving anything. Twenty years of being told “everything’s so easy for you”, twenty years of so much pain. Twenty years of being extremely tired, twenty years of being confused.

But… there’s the in between, right?

About twelve years of expressing myself through words, three years since I’ve made the cut to something bigger, and a few months since I started going by a name that suits me. And, in a sense, maybe I’m reborn every single day. Because just the fact that I still do wake up, even if it’s by 11AM or, God forbid, noon, I open my eyes and I get out of bed. Sometimes after a scream and a stretch, but I do. Then I cook my own food, and I manage to clean after myself and then cleanse my own body. I’m tired, so tired, but I’m still young… and that’s scary, because, honestly, I quite hate life and everything to do with it. But there’s still beauty. Words exist, and somehow, I was wickedly gifted the power of these magical fingers and little scattered brain, that move in a way that makes sentences so crushing, but comforting as well. When I look at myself, there’s little that had been saved. That little girl is dead, so dead, buried underground and they’ve eaten all of her flesh, just like when she was alive, right? Every single inch of her has been savored, by the nastiest mouths, and all I could do was watch as I was murdered and murdered over again. No… she was. I made it. I don’t know how, I must have ran…

This could explain why I’m so out of breath these days. I’ve been running from all of these for God knows how long. I’ve been doing it on my own. I hardly recognize my dirty and dry feet. All I’ve witnessed, all I’ve heard, all I’ve said… all I’ve thought, and all it has been thinking inside my mind. I’ve made it. Twenty years of this. Am I supposed to be happy? I’m going to be congratulated, and dad’s gonna call, and I’m supposed to hear ‘Happy Birthday Dear…’ someone who was never dear to anyone. Because they’re going to say that name, and they’re going to call me ‘her’, and I’m going to feel as hopeless as I felt last year, and the other, and the other, and you go back 20 years and it was raining so much during that Friday, just as it rains from my eyes as I write this.

And I’m going to be forever that kid, when I turn 30, 40, if I make it past that, I’m always going to be that little thing. Someone that has to do their very best to not want to die, someone who was to learn what self-love is because how could anyone love this freak? It’s hard to understand when it started, but it never ended. Even when they all die, even when their flesh rots and oh God how I pray it rots, I will still suffer from all the pain that’s caused and from every single thing I haven’t learned. And whenever something improves, whenever I get an opportunity, or if I somehow lose half of my weight, I’m gonna hear that I’m finally not being lazy anymore.

But it is only once that you’re ten and your mom is too scared to tell you what they diagnosed you as, so she hides it until you find it out when you’re sixteen and so, so much worse than before. It is only once that your father tells you that if you’re not slimmer by December, there’s no way he’s coming to see you. It is only once you realize “I’m not worth it”, and then every single day until you stop breathing is a chore.

Why should I make the bed when it’s my hurt and used body that’s lying there afterward? When I can’t give up a single addiction, when I can’t stop doing the things that give me such terrible headaches, when everyone I talk to seems to not understand me. When I look at my little hands, or when I look at my side profile and I’m suddenly upset, when I wonder if I’ll ever manage to bear a child. When I no longer love my breasts, and when any T-shirt that’s more masculine feels so awkward and fucking hell how much I’d love to have a chest so flat that I would look just a little less lame. When I chant to myself “I love you”, “I love you”, “I love you”, as I caress myself and put myself to sleep after I cry. Myself, myself, myself. I’m only on my own… it’s twenty years of being on my own.

It never has the same weight, I’m a bother to all of them, but they can bother me as they please, because my feelings and my needs never matter and every little thing is a huge trigger for me. And they have that name sewn to every little baby towel, and it’s on my documents, and it’s right there in the living room and if I manage to end this fearsome life, the name they’ll put right on my grave is the name of a girl that died nine years ago. Not me.

It’s the end of my teenage years, but it’s not the end of my anxiety and sorrow. I’m only “in the real world now”, but was I ever sheltered before if the monsters were holding my hand? And they don’t seem to realize how heartbroken I am. No… how flat line I am. They smile at me, and they tell me how pretty I am. Now? After all of that torture? Now I’m worthy of such compliments? When I was so little and so dependent, you could never say that to me.

It never comes when I need it. It never exists when I can still make use of it. There’s no appreciation until I have quit, and there’s no love until I start hating them. Now it makes no sense to be there for Christmas, or to wish for a party. Now it makes no sense to wait for my dad to come see me, now it makes no sense to have a friend group. Now I’m almost twenty years old and my worries and fears are still the same, but my needs changed. Now I don’t need to be protected anymore, but I don’t care. Now I can’t say “I love you” or expect to hear it, but maybe if I could go back… Would I change something?

If someone came to me right now and said they’d change my body, my identity, and I would be loved, and I would have never suffered all of that. If I had to give up my gift, if I wasn’t me anymore, and then I would be loved. Would I say, “yes?”. If I could go back twenty years in time, and be back inside mother’s womb, about to be born, back to a world that isn’t crushed yet, and every single thing could be different, and everyone would be nice, but with the cost… that I’m not me. That I can’t find shelter in words. That I’m exactly like they wished… I don’t think I’d be able to accept such a thing. No matter how I’m crying right now, I wouldn’t… because I know these people, and I know that city, and I know the blankets I’ve been wrapped with, there would still be something wrong with me. Even if my body was of a model’s, even if my brain wasn’t full of obsessive-compulsions, even if I loved the name they chose, even if I wasn’t the odd one out… I would still be hated and thrown around. I would still not feel comfortable in this skin, and make-up would still not make sense. I would still not feel welcome, I would still not belong, and worse… I wouldn’t even be me. Even if I’m an insignificant little thing, even if I’m somewhat disgusting, even if everyone said I should cut and change every part of me… I wouldn’t trade that for people who couldn’t fucking love and protect a child.

So… it’s going to be twenty years of protecting this little being, twenty years of failing, twenty years of mourning her death, twenty years of being thankful she died, and it’s on me now. Eight years since I’m not a kid anymore, and that brings me quite some peace, even if being an adult is this saddening, nothing’s worse than having it taken from you the first time. Even if I meet so many more terrible people, even if I put myself in the worst situations, I will never be ten years old again. Thank God.

To my twenties: I won’t say I want to forgive and forget. To forgive would to be to lie, and to forget would be to also forget what makes me a survivor. So I ask for ease. I want to drink more matcha lattes, and I want to buy clothes that make me happy. And I want to live on my own, and cook myself my own meals and, God, I don’t wanna do the dishes forever. I want to buy a dishwasher, even if I pay it for, like, three years, it’d be so worth it. I want to write more, and to be less shy and let people read me. Because even if the world is mean and full of liars, there are little orchids and lilies that bloom eventually. I want more springs, but especially autumns and these little beginnings of summers. I want winters, too, and maybe even Christmases. Even if I’m on my own, even if no one gifts me, I guess I’ll be there. I want to jump into pools, and definitely have my own bathtub. I want to get wasted once, just to know how bad it feels afterward. I want to give myself little pats in the back, and I want to look into the mirror, into those hazel eyes, and even if there are tears, I want to be proud of whatever I am. I want experiences, the good ones, and I want to eat delicious pastries. I want to see cherry blossoms and I want to hear birds chirping. I want to be able to grow from this. And I want to, in ten years or however long it takes for me, to in my thirties wish for good things. Maybe I’ll have other references, and good things I want to keep happening. I’m not going to ask for anything big. Of course, I wish for money and success. But, over anything else, I wish to be me. And knowing myself, and my own life, ‘success’ isn’t something I can wish for. It’ll be surprising if it does happen, though. And, after my thirties and all the rest of my until now quite miserable life, I want to have lived long enough until I’m ready to be a child again, because, what if I still suffer? What if I get another childhood like that?

Now that I’m not a kid anymore, but that I’m still scared of the bathroom window, I can’t think of too many reasons to celebrate my twenties. After all, I’ll be blowing meaningless candles and I know I won’t have a wish to make, because when I do, I’m never given it. But a small part of me is happy, and my tears and my wandering heart say it’s her. The little girl I was, that was killed so ruthlessly. The girl that never made it to her wedding, or to her kids’ birth. The girl who never even made it to high school parties, to her first drink or to high heels.

But we still have the same little hands. These pinkies that never grew. We have the same little curls in our hair, and we have the same thirst for knowledge. We have the same love for poetry, even if she, as a child, read so much more than me. We have the same sense of justice and the same need to flee. These feet that move me are the same that moved her. The neck that connects my head to my body was hers one day, and maybe our smile is the same, even though she was losing teeth at the time. The awkwardness I feel in public, alongside the desire to talk about our likes, that happiness of eating ice cream and the realization that it is all over ever since it started is just like what she felt in the almost eleven years she lived.

The goosebumps, the shivering, the breakdowns, the manic episodes, the lethargy, the love for words, all the collections, all the tunes, the flavors that can be felt, the smell of that particular perfume, it’s all hers, but I keep it inside of me. Sometimes it overflows, sometimes she overflows, and then I cry, and then I write. Sometimes I hear her talking to me, sometimes she’s the one whispering “I love you”, and I know for a fact that that sweet little girl would never hate me. Because she’s so sympathetic, and her chubby cheeks are my chubby cheeks, and they get as red as hers got… when I think of her death my soul crushes, but there is no doubt, no fog, no blur: I might not be a girl, but I’m always going to be her. We don’t share a name, but we share our precious birthday. And I’m only becoming twenty in three days because of her. Because I love her so much, and I can hear her say “I love them too”, that I’m here right now. And I might cry a little more, and maybe I’ll even cry as water washes my body, but when I hear “Happy Birthday”, I’ll just think of how dear she is to me. And I’m so sorry, my baby, that you have died. I’m so sorry they were so mean to you. I’m so sorry, my sweetheart. I can’t look at your pictures right now, because if I look at your little face, I will feel them on my skin again. If I stare at it too long, I will start smelling that scent I hate. I’m sorry, my little girl. I’m so sorry.

I’ll make up to you. I’m going to put on pretty clothes. And maybe I’ll even put on some lipstick, dysphoria completely aside. I’ll have a feast and then, some cake. I’m going to be twenty-one, -two, -three, and so on… I’ll do it for you. I will live so many decades, and I will do my best to get up every single day from each year of these many decades. I will honor you, and I celebrate every single November 14th. And when I turn twenty-two, it will be another Friday, just like the day you were born. I wonder if it will rain? And I wonder if you, buried so deeply inside me, will understand someday I only did this to not let anyone hurt you anymore? I had to grow up. I know your ghost appears when I’m hurt or silenced, and I live my childhood days all over again. But I hope you understand you’re deep inside my heart, beating so vividly, and that I won’t let your memory die, no matter how faint or dim it is. I hope you know I love you more than I love anything else in this world. Even more than you loved dinosaurs. And even more than I love the current me.

For your dreams, that will never be fulfilled. For the family you will never go back to. For the hometown that you will never feel homesick for. For the friends that gave up on you. For the expectations that were never met. For the fact I had to grow up and bury you deep inside my childlike thoughts. For the fact that it doesn’t get much better than this… I will be twenty, for you and me. In two days and one hour. I will have turned twenty. In this roller-coaster I’m trapped right now… all I can say is “sorry”, and “I’ll try to do better next year”. But knowing you, my little Snow White, you’re just happy I made it, right? You’re proud of me. And I can say that, because no matter how many analogies I used to justify my trauma and fear, I am you and you are me.

I’m proud of myself, for these twenty years. I’m that little girl, as much as I’m not her anymore. I’m all of my dreams, and none of my nightmares. I’m all the love I’ve received. I’m all of my good deeds. I’m all of my peace. I’m all of my hope. I’m you, my little baby, and just because of that, I already deserve it all. Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to me. I pinky promise you, I’ll never give up on us. I’ll never give up on telling our stories. I’ll never give up this that you gave me. This body, this mind, I’ll cherish everything. Thank you for giving it to me. Let’s have fun in our twenties. Let’s keep writing and writing, even if it can’t ease all the pain… you’re not crying anymore, neither am I. When I go pick the cake, when I sing along the song… I’ll be looking at you all the time, and I will be loving you so deeply all along. And whatever I do, wherever I go, you’re going to be there with and for me. Because you’re all I could ever ask for. Because, right now, more than ever, and a little less than in a few days, I am. And I’m glad to be.

AFTERWORD:

Hello. It is Polaris here. This is more of a way to vent (as writing has always been) than a proper fictional work. It took me, what? About an hour to get this done… and I also had random bursts of tears meanwhile… whenever I wrote "I'm crying" or something, it was real. For a little bit of context, as I didn't get into much detail, I have been through a lot of unfortunate situations that caused me to have, now, lots of trauma and things to deal with. Both people close to me, supposed to protect me, and complete strangers, have done this to me. I'm constantly fighting this, as I've been doing therapy for, like, almost five years. Turning twenty made me a little emotional for the past two weeks, and today a certain situation triggered me into this sorrowful state, so I munched on a white Kitkat as I wrote this soul-crushing thingy. It talks about so many things… being fat, being non-binary, things that are very dear to me. Basically, all's true, besides my analogies. Which is sad, so if you read this and felt like 'oh, but it might be fiction', it's not, so you have all the right in the world to cry right now. And if I made you cry, I'm really sorry. I'm just doing what my favorite author did to me a few years ago. In a sense, I ended this way more hopeful than I started it. I had a good cry, you know? It was important, I think. I grew. I think I'm ready to enter my twenties… as if it waits, right? Life doesn't wait. But, also, that could mean a good thing. It just never happens to me, but it might happen soon. Or not, but I can never know. It's both good and terrible. I'll always be hurt, no matter where I go to, but I feel like now I have regained myself. Even if I can barely do things, even if everything's still a chore, even if I'm so easily bored and distracted, I feel like myself. Honestly, it has been at least like four months since I looked outside my window and thought, "wow, I'm happy today." You know, that feeling of… hm… of safety, relief? That almost feels like a summer breeze? I think that's happiness, like, true happiness. I feel it every six months or so, so maybe in January or February I'll feel it again. It lasts about two or three days, so it's good to cherish those moments. Unfortunately, I can't bring myself to write when I'm like that. So maybe, being sad is just my artsy trick. Maybe one day I'll publish this, and my other tales. Maybe one day I'll make money from all of my sadness. And that'll be fucking awesome, I'm not gonna lie. But, I kinda would rather if I both already had money and was happy more than six times a year. Anyway… it will be midnight soon, which means it'll be the 12th… and then, two more days. I guess nothing will change, but I'll definitely update you guys if I finally have my overnight growth spurt and stop being a short… not king, but a genderless noble. Also, orange Mentos (that I'm munching on 'cause I found it lost inside my bag) taste like vitamin C… why does anyone like orange-flavored things? Well. I'll be back in a while with another story. I want to write something gay(er) soon. If you read this past November 14th, 2023, I'm already 20 years old. Happy birthday, future me. And Happy birthday, old me. Heading to the future, where one day I'll be glancing my way back home.

#glancing my way back home #sasoris #literature #young adult #birthday #coming of age #vent post #traumadump #happy birthday #original story #supernatural #twenty #turning twenty #20

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angelbluediary · 14 days

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[Side note, I’ve seen 12:22 and 2:22 today.]

Something my mom has made a point about repeatedly, when we get into it, is that she doesn’t verbally abuse me the way her mother did to her. She says she has always been a good mom and in many ways seems to credit that with not calling me fat growing up.

What she doesn’t seem to realize is that I’ve grown up listening to her tear her own appearance apart, and that affects me, too. Obviously not to the same degree. But it makes me understand, all the same, that I have to present myself a certain way every time I leave the house and every time I pose for photos. She has taught me that women (even—especially!—your best friends) will zoom in on your face, on all of your faces, and critique and compare and criticize. That every picture posted of you online is grounds for scrutiny. That you have to obsess and despair over every perceived flaw. (And that may be why I always have to edit my photos before I post them, down to the tiniest details).

Yesterday we went to a wedding—a small and casual wedding with close family friends—and while I’m rushing to get ready, she asks me for help. Wants advice on her shape wear that’s bunching up her skin and “feels like torture” and explains why the other set won’t be as good, because it’s old, but then she wants me to help pull it up and pin it to her bra on both sides so it stays in place, and I’m like ahhhhh??? And I’m visibly uncomfortable with that and tell her I won’t be able to do it and she looks at me with such a disappointed expression, with that touch of “how dare you,” that vague trace of “who do you think you are” that I see on her face towards me sometimes (and is always later confirmed by her words in private) so I do. I try. I do my best and try not to think about how badly I just want to fix my hair before our time runs out and I follow her instructions and I poke her by accident with the pin, and she yelps, so I immediately stop and reiterate that see I couldn’t do it after all.

Obviously when my dad got home, he helped her as he always does.

So the wedding service goes great, we’re all laughing and having a good time, I’m feeling really happy because the only other wedding I’ve been to as an adult was poisoned the entire evening with tension between my mom and I (that stupid misunderstanding; the both of us being hungry; me excitedly telling her about there being more food when I glimpsed the kitchen preparing a massive spread in the back; her thinking I meant it was already available and having to wait just a bit longer; her telling everyone for the rest of the night about the cruel joke I played on her, as I lightly laughed along and tried to gently diffuse while setting the record straight; her all but calling me a conniving liar and repeating her “joke” again and again till I finally blew up hours later).

And I’m determined to keep it lighthearted and easy like this, but my mom can’t stand that, apparently. Has to make me the butt of the joke whenever she can. So she tells my cousin about me sticking her with the safety pin, like it was intentional. Like I’d been waiting for an opportunity to hurt her.

By this point it’s 3 pm and I’m on my heaviest flow day, haven’t eaten, and am instantly triggered. And I just shut down. All at once I feel like I’m going to cry, in front of all these people, because she keeps up the joke when she sees I’m not playing along. She loves to poke fun of other people and she never learns to fucking lay off but you can’t say a word back to her with the same energy.

To make matters worse, apparently she had recruited M to help with her shape wear after I’d left. He hadn’t been able to do it, but he hadn’t stuck her with the pin, which she made sure to tell my cousin and the rest of our little table.

Why am I writing about all this?

Because today is Mother’s Day, and I’ve been unemployed for almost two months now, am just now starting to pick up interviews, so I wasn’t able to get her anything elaborate like a custom necklace with all our birthday gemstones, or whatever else I’ve given her in the past, and instead got a candle. A cute funny candle with a scent I thought she’d like that cost almost $30 total with shipping. And I go out there today and sitting on the dining room table is an elaborate basket M bought her, filled with all kinds of nice pampering items. And it felt like the biggest fucking betrayal, and a slap in the face on multiple fronts. Because of course this is going to add to her comparisons between us (even though my big gifts didn’t seem to help my ranking, but whatever). But also How could he? How could M do this? And what a ridiculous thought that is, because what has he done besides buy a nice gift for our mom on Mother’s Day? Yet he’s always going on about now wanting to be the golden boy, not wanting to live up to all these expectations they have of him (and I want to ask, what expectations? You don’t drive, have no chores, don’t get the grades I used to get and aren’t expected to, they shrug or laugh when you admit you’ve smoked weed or done anything, what are you even talking about?), trauma of being a Gifted Student (again???)

His gift, dwarfing mine so ridiculously, is a visual representation of how our mom sees our efforts towards her and towards our family at large. It doesn’t matter how many miles and hours I drive for them, how many days I sacrifice to help other peoples’ schedules, the times I’d keep M with me in Myrtle Beach, putting myself through college on my own loans, that I grew up with household duties and they haven’t, that I set the precedent for buying her nice things with the money I earned, none of that matters.

Living with her is too difficult for my heart.

#off my chest #May 2024

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chubbology · 3 years

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Overindulged

prompt: feeder boyfriend quits his job and balloons as fat as his feedee/feeder girlfriend

He drove his sleek BMW up his driveway and into the middle garage just as dusk settled into night. He’d stayed overtime at work again, and to make it up to his girlfriend, three dozen fresh assorted donuts sat in the passenger seat.

Sure enough, immediately upon opening the back door with his stack of boxes, he heard her voice: “Late.”

“It’s the end of the month,” he said. “What do you expect? Brought you something though, so don’t be mad. Come in here.”

He set the boxes down on the granite island, then waited, sucking in a breath. His pupils dilated as his favorite person in the world waddled through the wide archway leading into the kitchen. After giving him a pout, she pulled the boxes toward her with arms that hung, at their heaviest, over half a foot with fat.

She was a beautiful, enormous woman. He had met her on a plane three years ago on a business trip to Paris. She’d pulled him into conversation like a warm whirlpool, and he’d listened in awe to her life story: miserable wife of a banker to a happily divorced entrepreneur, flying first class on her own dime.

With a smug, knowing smile, she talked about how she used to be skinny for her ex’s sake and now was free. He couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over her blatantly overweight body. Thighs pressing firm on either armrest of the wide seat, bust prominent and heavy, belly button deep and visible through her dress.

Bad news is, she’d concluded, I just settled a messy lawsuit that lost me my career and nearly bankrupted me. But she shrugged, as if such was life. I’m taking my last-hurrah vacation until I have no choice but to eat tiny, unsatisfying meals again.

He decided that couldn’t come to pass, so he spent as much time with her outside his business obligations as he could, taking her to meal after meal, falling in love as she ate to her heart’s content and shamelessly talked about how she’d rather fallen in love with gaining weight. It titillated and empowered her. By the end of their two week stay in Paris, she was twelve pounds bigger and he had invited her to live with him for a while as she looked for a new career path. She accepted.

Three years later, she’d found her calling without having to leave his luxurious, spacious home. Doing what she loved.

She was almost four hundred and fifty pounds now, last he was updated. She always wore leggings that clung to every lump and bulge of cellulite, and she liked to tease him by wearing crop tops, letting her massive belly and side rolls hang out and wobble as they pleased.

He watched with soft eyes as she stuffed herself with four jelly-filled doughnuts. Between bites she said, “These long hours at your soulless job are no good. My fans want to see more of you.” More eating. “The last time you fed me on camera was weeks ago!”

She gave him an imploring look as she ate a fifth doughnut. Boston creme. Her face, once conventionally pretty, now had a sexy overindulged look. She’d lost her jawline to additional chins and neck fat, and her round, fatty cheeks quivered as she chewed. Even before she finished the fifth doughnut, she picked up a sixth. “And don’t think they haven’t noticed that little tummy you have now.”

“What?” He looked down at himself, blushing at how his tie sat out a bit on slightly stretched white buttons.

Before he could say anything, she pushed a chocolate doughnut in his hand. “I know people willing to pay a pretty petty to see you chunk out.” She smirked. “Pop a couple of those buttons.”

He laughed dismissively, but as he ate the doughnut, he contemplated the press of his new chub against his shirt. His pants felt a little tight in the ass, too, now that he thought about it. What if? he thought.

Suddenly, he found himself admitting: “I’ve been thinking of quitting.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“I want to spend more time with you,” he explained. He hadn’t meant to talk about it now, but here he was. Out of nervousness, he pulled one of the boxes toward himself and picked another doughnut, this one caving in under its sprinkles. He took a heavenly bite. “I have plenty of money saved and invested to take care of both of us for a long time. I just don’t see why I…”

She waddled over to his side of the island and took his free hand. “You know I’d support you.” Then she pulled him closer, into a smiling kiss. “I’ll support you real good.”

Before his two week notice even ended, he was eight pounds heavier, and he relished how his coworkers’ eyes lingered on his burgeoning waistline. Soon, his tummy was pushing over his pants. His chest felt thicker. He felt his ass spread wider when he sat down. He ate desserts all the time, and his girlfriend lavished him with attention (food) at every opportunity when he was home, encouraging him to eat in amounts he’d never let himself eat before. She started filming - with his consent, as always - the development of his chubbing up. Her fans loved him even more than they already did, compliments coming in faster than he could read them.

One month into being an unemployed man, she stuffed him on camera until one of his shirt buttons popped off. The experience was more of a revelation for him than even becoming officially overweight; that night, after she went to sleep, he got out of bed, squeezed into an old pair of slacks that barely fit him, then gorged himself in the kitchen until he gasped at the relief of his ass seam tearing open, unable to accommodate his butt, which everyone online said was growing gorgeously fat. His heart fluttered just thinking about it, and he hoped his ass kept growing.

It did.

“I admit, I never thought you’d be this much of a pear,” his girlfriend told him, six months into his steady ballooning. They were admiring his progress in the large bathroom mirror. He may have looked small relative to his partner’s morbid obesity, but somehow, they were both more fascinated with his growth at the moment. She outlined his bottom heavy figure with her hands. Fat had indeed stored most eagerly in his ass, thighs, and hips. His belly drooped soft and wide.

“I love it,” she said. “Love everything about you.” But then something else came into her expression. “Except how you’ve stopped picking up after yourself.”

He swallowed, and said honestly, “Sorry. I know I’m getting lazier.”

“We’ll have to hire a maid.” She grinned wickedly. “Or do two pigs deserve to roll in their sty?”

A year into living on his passive income and her subscribers, the couple had not yet hired any cleaning services, and his country club house was...well. Not trashed, but messy and disorganized. She blamed the five pounds she’d lost over the past month on having to constantly throw his trash away. She punished him by making him stand while drinking a whole liter of full-sugar soda. Since he’d developed a strong distaste for any physical effort as he sunk deeper into obesity, he grumbled the whole time. When he finally fell back on the couch, she sat too. Together, they took up most of it. But while she looked perfectly composed, he was panting raggedly, slightly sweaty, a food stain on his pants.

“Look.” She reached out and held his chubby wrist. “I can tell that the fatter you get, the more your natural inclination is to be a pig.” She spoke with total matter-of-factness. As if the emergence of his inner pig was unsurprising and inevitable. “It’s not uncommon in men - that urge to oink and eat as a way of life. But we share this space. I help pay off this house. Please throw away your take out containers.”

Then she added, at his long-suffering sigh, “I’ll reward you.”

He met her gaze. “Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

This time, there were no cameras. There was just her, sitting on one side of their king bed and him on the other, breathing heavy, taking her reward one bite at a time.

Everywhere in their bed were containers and packages and napkins and soda bottles. He had eaten mexican and noodles and burgers and fries. He’d eaten candy bars and sundaes and milkshakes and chunky cookies. He was so full he could feel the skin of his belly stretching. He could practically feel the skin of his thighs stretching, as if they were filling up heavier with fat right then, as he was determinedly overfed. He swallowed another bite of greasy cheeseburger.

“Keep going. I can tell you're slowing down, but I’ll have none of that yet. I want to see progress from you.”

“I don’t know…”

“Do you want to feel the ecstasy of squeezing through a doorframe or are you going to plateau at being just fat?”

He let out a breathy moan as he ate another bite of the cheeseburger. His girlfriend knew him too well. She knew he liked the new challenges being big was causing him. She knew it turned him on that he sat so much fatter in his own car, belly pressing against everything, ass barely fitting at all. She knew his hands had begun cupping his hips as a half-unconscious habit, admiring his own width.

He liked how his thighs had to push past each other, jiggling every time. He even liked when he accidentally bumped into things, because it was a hot reminder that he wasn’t the same. He was like her now. He was fat. He was a pig. He wanted to eat and get so big he could barely even waddle. He wanted to squeeze through doorways. He wanted to get stuck.

“I want everything,” he said. And she smiled, temporarily pleased.

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

#weight gain #fic #female feeder #male gainer

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unprofessional-bard · 3 years

Text

Chapter 15 - The Result

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter (TBA)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC

Warnings: smut: oral sex (m! receiving), unprotected sex, joel breeding kink go brrr; talks of depression, anxiety and PTSD, detailed descriptions of bloodshed/death.

Summary: The confrontation the reader had been waiting for finally happens.

Word Count: 5.771

Author's Note: I apologise for the repost y'all!! The chapter didn't appear on the tags and I didn't notice it soon enough!! If this doesn't appear as well...

Enjoy!

The last heatwaves of summer started coming in with full force as September approached– a final storm before the calm. It wasn't completely intolerable, but it still messed with a lot of people: even you and Joel had to stay away from one another during the nights due to the heat making everything more sticky and irritable. It was annoying as hell, given that you had Joel all to yourself for a whole week now.

That certainly didn't stop you two from having sex before his departure, of course.

It took you some time to anchor yourself back to reality after what happened with Ward – the first three days were the worst with the episodes and attacks, but you don't think you could've made it this far in such a short time without Ellie and Joel. This was practically nothing compared to when you had first arrived in Jackson... if you had them both with you when–

Doesn't matter now. It took you months and it wouldn't have mattered if it had taken more– you made it. At the end, you got through it.

You and Joel talked about things, too. A lot of it mostly surrounding Kiki and Ward, of course. Things were cleared out, feelings were gotten off of chests and apologies were made: One day, after going out to get groceries while you chopped some vegetables for dinner, he put the sacks on the counter island and approached you, wrapping his hands around your waist.

"Smells delicious," He murmured into your ear and placed a kiss on your cheek, then put his chin on your shoulder, ever so slowly –with minimal movement– swaying you to the smooth jazz playing in the living room.

"I didn't cook anything yet?" You raised a brow and smiled at the way his beard scratched at the side of your face.

"Didn't mean the food," He whispered and kissed the back of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as you chuckled. He then moved down the line behind your artery, peppering kisses there, each and every single touch of his lips sending a rather pleasant feeling between your legs.

You slowly leaned your head back against his shoulder as he took your hands in his, making you put the knife down and let him sway you to the wordless tune playing in the background.

He eventually stopped when he reached your collarbones and turned you around to face him: "Mrs. Miller..." Your smile grew at the name: "How're you on this fine evenin'?"

"Just fine, Mr. Miller." You grinned and mimicked his accent. He placed one hand on your waist while the other grabbed your hand. He smelled so wonderful and looked so good–

"Would ya fancy a dance, m'lady?" His teeth showed when his smirk grew wider, your faces were almost touching.

"Ain't you a dandy and a charmer?" You chuckled, your lips brushing against his and chests pressed against each other.

This? This was everything. All of your problems and worries gone even just for a moment or two– you'd do anything for him.

The small dance you two had going on lasted another minute before the track ended softly. Joel finally stopped teasing your lips and pressed a gentle kiss against them, which you returned with more hunger and passion.

"A little dance got you all excited?" Joel chuckled when he pulled back for air, noticing your hands had already unbuttonned his shirt halfway.

"You got me all excited," You beamed at him and dipped your hands under his shirt before reaching the last two buttons, feeling his warm skin under your fingertips and sighing into his chest. "We haven't done it in awhile..."

"Tsk," Joel shook his head with a soft grin, licking his lips as his pupils dilated the longer he thought of the last time you had sex, which was when he came in you for the first time. It had him weak in the knees, and would definitely do it again if you let him. He then softly leaned in and placed a wet kiss on your neck, making you sigh and close your eyes.

His hands placed themselves on your waist as he pushed you against the counter island, lightly marking your neck as he went: "Should'a done this a few days back, would'a marked you red and blue since y'ain't goin' out..."

You quietly moaned as he trapped you in place, lightly pushing your shirt up and massaging your sides as he did. You took the opportunity to place a kiss on his neck in return, hearing him growl softly, so you did it again, and again, and again...

Sex with Joel never ceased to satisfy you: He always managed to get you all giddy and excited like a child given a reward. His movements gained some speed as soon as his hands cupped your breasts, immediately taking your shirt off and kissing your lips hungrily. His arms closed around your waist and back as he moved down to your jaw and neck, biting and licking his way to your shoulders.

"Joel... the food..." Your chuckles mixed with moans the more his beard and lips caressed your skin. At your words, he picked you up and placed you on the counter, hooking his fingers through the waistbands of your shorts.

"I'll be full in a few," He smirked and started kissing down your breasts as he slowly dragged your shorts down your legs. His tongue worked wonders on your nipples while your fingers made their way through his hair, giving him soft hisses and quiet moans whenever he lightly bit on the skin.

Moments later, he was on his knees, caressing and kissing your inner thighs, not pulling back on leaving hickeys where he knew your shorts would cover to spare you the embarrassment; although that didn't keep him from lightly biting on the skin that showed too.

He then spread your legs and started giving tiny licks along your slit, making you slowly lean back onto your elbows, only to suddenly land on your back when he pulled you forwards by your thighs. You gave a brief chuckle as he feasted on your juices like a man who hadn't eaten in weeks.

As soon as you threw your head back, you opened your eyes to an intensifying sizzling sound, gasping when you saw the pan on the stove: "Joel! The food!"

"Oh shit–" He quickly left your wetness and practically threw himself over to the stove. After that was out of the way, you both stood still and giggled briefly. "Why'd you cook this much food?"

"Ellie asked if she could eat with us," You spoke as you got off the counter. "Said she didn't have time to cook for herself, I said sure. She then asked if Jesse could come too– Wait, what time is it?"

"Five twenty."

"Oh, good."

"Why?"

"Because," You gave him a mischievous smirk as you walked over to him and hooked your fingers behind his belt without breaking eye contact, pulling him back to the counter island. "That means we have at least another half hour before they arrive, but we still gotta be qui– Hmph!"

His lips were instantly on yours as he quickly pressed your back against the counter, but you stopped him before he could go down on you: "Nu-uh. I may be the cook–" You grabbed him through his trousers, making his hips jerk forward: "But I gotta eat too."

He made to protest –he's been going on about how you should take it easy and how your pleasure was more important than his (it was funny how he thought his pleasure didn't add to yours)– but you were already sinking to your knees, trapping yourself between his legs and the counter.

"There we go," You cooed as you got rid of his belt. Joel sighed deeply and closed his eyes, putting his hands on the surface above your head and leaning into your touch instinctively.

You were quick to pull him out of his underwear, pumping his cock a few times before giving it a few licks around the tip, to which he hissed quietly.

It was when you decided to take all his length to the back of your throat at one go that his hands shot to your hair: "Jesus– christ, doll!"

You offered a quiet giggle while you played with him in your hand, then slowly and rhythmically you took him in your mouth, but not even a few minutes later, Joel pulled your hair into a ponytail with both hands: "Can't believe I'm sayin' this but, food can wait."

You gave him a surprised look before he gently grabbed your jaw and lightly pressed your cheeks to make you open your mouth wider, then pushed his cock down your throat. Gagging and moaning you grabbed his hips, to which he responded: "A-ah, no hands Dolly."

You were perhaps too quick to drop your hands to your sides, then lace your fingers behind your back to keep yourself from grabbing him. You let him use your mouth for a few minutes: the sounds of wetness and gagging, plus occasional grunts and moans from him was heavenly for the both of you.

"Fuck– Dolly, up," He suddenly pulled out and leaned down to pull you up. He turned you around and gently, but with rushed movements, bent you over the counter a little. He entered you with one precise thrust, making you bend even more. You moaned simultaneously when he did, staying still a little for you to adjust.

He then leaned down over you, framing your body with his. Your bare back pressed against his naked chest, his hands wrapping themselves around your arms –then wrists– as his chin found its place like a puzzle piece in the crook of your neck. You loved it when he covered you like this, loved when he was so desperate, loved when he couldn't help himself and couldn't get enough of your–

"You get me so– shit," He growled as he pulled back and thrusted in again. He began with a steady rhythm, making you moan softly. You felt your eyes roll back when he nibbled at your ear and kissed your neck.

"Fuck– Joel, fuck–" You moaned, the pitch of your voice rising like it did when you began closing in on your orgasm. You both were aware how you were short on time and had to make this into a quickie, a promise of something more when night time fell and you both were alone in your room, hungry for one another like you were now.

"Want me to– to come in you again? Y'think I put a baby in you the last time?" He moaned at the way you squeezed around him, wriggled under his body and cried out at his words. "Don't matter, we can do it again to make sure– just say the words."

"Joel– ah, ah," You gasped when one of his hands left your wrist to draw circles around your clit, making you thrust back to his rhythm. "Fuck, come inside me, please."

"Shit, (Y/N)," He growled low, almost animalistically, into your ear. He placed kisses over your neck, then went up to your jaw and cheek, finally meeting your lips halfway. "Come on, babydoll, put one leg up for me?"

His other hand left your wrist as well when you nodded, helping one leg up to the counter. He proceeded to lean back and up, grab your hips and slam into you as fast and hard as he could, knocking the breath out of you.

"Oh my god!" You cried out, failing to keep up. The skin slapping against skin had long drowned out most of the surrounding sounds, minus your moaning and Joel's growling. "So– so close–"

"This ain't gonna work," He suddenly stopped, murmuring to himself. He put your leg back down, pulled out of you and turned you to face him. The sight of his cock –erect completely, thick and swollen– made you moan quietly. He lifted you up and sat you on the counter once more, spreading your legs. He grabbed your ass and pulled you forward, to the edge, where he thrusted back in.

You grabbed his face and kissed him hungrily, biting on his lower lip, then shoved your tongue into his mouth, moaning all the while.

"Ah," He broke off suddenly and put his forehead on your shoulder as he slammed, and slammed, and slammed...

Until he grabbed you by your thighs, his voice cracking slightly, and finally emptied his seed inside you, biting on your shoulder quite aggressively; you didn't mind, however, as it was the final stroke that threw you off the edge. You held onto his shoulders as you both trembled in the other's arms, panting as if you'd run all the way from the western gate to home.

His hips involuntary jerked forwards, his cock twitching inside you. He held you tightly in his arms as you came down your high, becoming sleepy all of a sudden. Him coming inside you had a wonderful effect on the both of you last time, it was no different this time.

"Shit," You hissed. "That was– that was–"

"Mind blowing?" He chuckled, reminding you of one of your quickies during patrol before you got married.

"That's one way to put it," You grinned back and claimed his lips in a sweet kiss. "You should come inside me more often."

You felt him tense a little: "Yeah, about that, are you su–"

Knock knock: "(Y/N)?" Ellie.

"Shit!" You jumped where you sat. Joel immediately pulled himself out of you and tucked his softening cock back in his jeans as you collected your clothing and ran to the bathroom.

After dinner, your love-making continued in your chambers. The pace slowed, the air became somewhat more sentimental, and tears were shed– both of you trembled in the other's arms, kissing and wiping away at the other's wet cheeks. You laid together: entwined, side by side, eventually parting because of the heat...

Now, you laid alone.

Alone in the house after that too-good-to-be-true week, you felt trapped and not as up to date as you liked to be about the town, so you asked Maria to sign you up for supply runs, extra shifts– whatever you were kept from.

People were more happy to see you than you thought they'd be– and more worried about you than Kiki. "You underestimate the place you hold in the community, (Y/N)." Eugene had told you with a pat to the back when you showed up to your first patrol in near two weeks. Before setting off for your assigned route however, Maria called you over with a half worried, half grave expression.

"Gonna tell you something you're not gonna like, so try to keep calm okay?" She stared right through you, making you gulp and nod: "Kiki wants to–" She sighed halfway when you scoffed quietly. "She said she wanted to talk to you, sort things out. She seemed pretty calm, maybe she made her peace with it."

"Nah," You shook your head. "She's got some folks riled up against me, they're giving me weird looks. Won't believe she's made her peace 'til that stops."

"All the more reason for you to talk. Her group's gonna wait for yours to arrive at the checkpoint. It's a good opportunity."

"... Alright." You exhaled heavily as she gave you an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Your group was made of just you and Eugene, but Ellie and Jesse asked if they could join. Jesse was already allowed on paired patrols, but Ellie was a matter of debate as Joel still deemed her young– definitely not because he was worried sick over her.

"Ellie..." You made to protest, but your gut told you to let her tag along.

"(Y/N) c'mon, Joel ain't even here," Eugene.

"No, yeah," You blinked, snapping out of your deep thoughts. "I was gonna say yes, sorry. Come on, hurry then."

Once you reached the checkpoint, you asked Eugene to stay back: "What's up, Dolly?"

"Kiki's in there, she says she wants to talk to me," You explained, hands on your hips. "To sort things out– I don't buy it."

"Woah, hold on. She said that to you?"

"To Maria. She says she's made her peace with what I did, but I say otherwise."

"Like hell she did," Eugene agreed. "I heard she's been calling you a–"

"I–" You put your hand up: "–don't wanna hear what that idiot has to say. I see a few people staring at me whenever I go out, some straight out avoid me."

"You want me to–?"

"No– no I'll talk to her, no biggie. This has to end one way or another, but I don't trust her. Be my eyes?"

"Always, (Y/N)," He started walking towards the doors of the checkpoint, but you stopped him.

"Actually, you watch out for Ellie and Jesse. I'll handle this alone."

"(Y/N)–"

"It's okay, she's weak. Squealed to the softest touch when she first came here, remember? She wouldn't try anything."

"But that was when she first came here. Don't underestimate her."

A warning that had fallen on your deaf ears.

As you reached the doors, you saw Ellie and Jesse standing a feet or two from the entrance awkwardly. You took a deep breath and walked through the door with heavy steps and, as soon as you saw her sitting on the couch, you stood across her: "Let's talk," You looked around the room to find it quite small for you to have privacy: "Leave us. Let's finish this."

"Wh–?"

"It's okay, Ellie– Just step outside for a moment, all of you."

Kiki's group, three other people, left the room with your company while giving you dirty looks. You locked eyes with Eugene, seeing him signal you watch, then as he turned around he also signaled you with hand signals. You really were grateful for him.

"Alright," You straightened up: "Let's get to it. I'm done holding back on you, so don't you dare play coy with me and say what you wanna say and get this over with."

"Very well then." She got up and started walking towards you, but you stopped her.

"I can hear you just fine from where you are." You told her not to approach, eyes instinctively scanning your surroundings. She was around 20 feet away from you, the path between you and her were clear of any obstacles –furniture etc– minus the small set of stairs that led up to where you were standing. There was a table behind you that you spied when you first entered the room, otherwise there was nothing near the neither of you.

"Fine. I was here to talk about Ward."

"I guessed that much."

"You do realise what you've done to me, right? You've ruined my life." Her face didn't reflect the words she spoke, not one bit.

"Oh for god's– I know damn well what I did."

"Did you regret it?"

You clenched, then unclenched your jaw: "Why do you wanna know?"

"I wanted to know if I'm talking to a normal person, or a cold blooded murderer."

Your hands were quick to ball up into fists, but you had to keep your cool. Her face and her stance made your shoulders tense even more– despite how she had behaved when you shot Ward, she was quite calm. Let's not jump to conclusions, you told yourself.

You remained quiet and huffed after a moment: "Let me ask you something."

"Ask away." She was ever so slowly inching closer, but you let her.

"Do you regret it? Me, shooting a man who beats you to a pulp, a man who won't–"

"I loved him, of course I do," She scoffed, but there was no love in her voice, just irritation.

"Or was this your plan all along?" You smirked sardonically, trying to keep your anger away from her prying eyes– allowing her to slip up: "You hated him so much, then you saw Joel and me, wanted my place; that it?"

"Clever, very clever," She nodded. "And what better person to kill Ward than you? How is it going between you and Joel, anyway?" She was suddenly too close: "Does he look at you with disgust every time you go to bed, wishing that it was me instead, the poor woman made into a widow by his own wife?"

Your face scrunched up with disgust and fury: "You fucking–"

"I'm right, aren't I?" Her head was tilted forward, giving you one of the most chilling, emotionless smiles you had ever seen.

"No... you're a fucking psychopath, that's what you are," You frowned.

"Ah, you sounded like Ward. Have you also read those psychology books Doctor Katherine had given him?"

Your mind blanked for a moment, but you quickly replied to cover it up: "I was trained to deal with the likes of you."

It was partly true, especially after everything went to shit with the apocalypse and whatnot. You were trained, yes, but you had educated yourself about certain disorders which could help you train and read body language better– you were no expert of course, and you weren't police, or a detective; you didn't deal with people like her up close.

"Likes of me?" She rolled her eyes: "Ugh, you and your husband... In any case, I feel like I can be honest with you now, you're smarter than I imagined."

Eugene was right, you thought: "Decided to be honest, finally? When no one else is around? How brave of you."

"The point wasn't bravery," She looked angrier, but her voice was still quiet. "The point was exactly that– No one will hear this confession but you."

You stared into her eyes, confusion and stress taking over a bit more quicker than you liked, you didn't even realise she was inching closer towards you: "I hated Ward. I didn't love him. He was my means of escape and protection for all those years out there, but I was weak– he was abusive, yes. I was smaller than him in physique and had no training to defend myself, so naturally I was inferior. His love, I assume, was true at one point. Mine never was. And yes, I was aware of how we were the black sheep of the community once we had arrived. I figured, if Tommy, Maria– people who were looked up to, like you, liked us, we'd fit in. I did, more than Ward anyway. And yes, I did want Joel for myself, but I knew it wasn't going to be easy. You– you never really liked me, you had to move out of the picture."

Your stance became defensive as you listened: "Move out of the picture?"

"Joel will move on, eventually, and I'll walk him through his grief. For all of this to work out, you had to die. That's why I am being honest, because I am going to kill you."

You thought you were ready to evade her attack, but not mentally. Her words had made your mind go blank: despite being smaller than you in figure, she threw herself at you, grabbed your hair and slammed your head onto the table behind you. Twice.

"Ah!" You growled and grabbed her wrist in a death grip, however she didn't let out as much as a groan (unlike the first time you had tried something like this with her), even though you felt like her bones were going to crush under your palm. You cursed at yourself for letting her get as close to you as she did, giving her an advantage; your vision was getting blurry from the strikes you suffered.

You growled angrily as you turned your body towards hers again, her hands not letting go of your hair. She had gotten stronger over the time she's been trained in Jackson, but you could still have the upper hand. You landed the hardest kick you could on her stomach. Twice.

"You're not even pregnant, are you?!" You spat when you managed to push her off, but as soon as she backed off, she pulled out a knife and lunged at you again. Before the tip of the knife could pierce your throat, you crossed your arms and blocked her attack, the force bending you backwards across the table.

"I never was, yes," She struggled, voice still stable. "Though telling everyone I miscarried because of your little doing didn't really hurt nobo–"

————

"Eugene, what the hell?" Mike, someone in Kiki's group asked as soon as they stepped outside.

The older man didn't reply, sparing an angry look in the younger man's way as he began looking for a window, an opening, anywhere he could keep an eye on you from.

"Whatever, let's hope (Y/N) doesn't kill her too in there," Jennifer, Kiki's neighbour across the street, grumbled.

"What's wrong with you?" Ellie snapped and turned to her. "(Y/N) protected her!"

"I don't think cold blooded murder doesn't really count as protection," She sneered.

"The fuck did you just–" Ellie started walking towards her, but Jesse held her back.

"Ellie calm down," He spoke quietly, then turned to Jessica. "If it weren't for (Y/N), both Kiki and Paul would've died, don't you understand? Ward beat Kiki to her death, then actually tried to—"

"What do you know? You weren't there!" Jessica hissed at him.

"Neither were you," Jesse replied calmly. "(Y/N) isn't a murderer, she's a protector of this town."

"Her history with FEDRA says otherwise," Mike joined in.

"So you're telling me you haven't killed anyone in the past 20 years?" Eugene suddenly walked over to them. "You think you're so innocent in all this, huh? You're as innocent as the rest of us, Mike. We've all done– forced to do some fucked up shit before Jackson, but this what this place's all about; a second chance." He took a few silent deep breaths, before adding: "You don't know what anyone here has gone through before here, so shut your goddamn mouth."

Both Mike and Jennifer fell silent, as well as Jesse and Ellie as the older man death stared Kiki's group. He started walking back to continue looking for an opening too late however– he suddenly heard two loud thuds, followed by a shout, your shout.

"God dammit!" He ran to the door with everyone else behind him and almost kicked down the door when he reached it.

————

"Kiki, what the hell?!" Eugene came in shouting, the door suddenly opening with a loud crash.

"What's the matter, can't handle me on your own?" She hissed at you, but her grip failed at Eugene's entrance. She had failed, and she knew this too, for her face morphed from ambition and triumph to anger and fear. That was your moment.

You directed her hands to your left with your forearms, the knife suddenly giving in and stabbing into the wooden table: "Oh I can handle you just fine!"

You twisted your arms around hers, grabbed her and push kicked her with all your might, sending her flying down the small set of stairs back near the couch she was sitting on previously. Driven by rage, you pulled the knife out of the table and jumped on her with scary speed. Before she could get up, you reached her and straddled her hips, ready to drive the knife through her throat like she had tried to do to you.

"(Y/N) stop!" Eugene yelled before you could, knife holding hand raised high, the other around her lower neck.

"Tell them, go on!" You suddenly yelled, moving your hand onto her throat. "Confess to them like you did to me."

"Get off me." She spoke calmly.

"Speak!" You yelled and shook her where you had grabbed her by the throat.

"(Y/N)..." Eugene, you realised when he entered your line of sight, was pointing a gun at Kiki's head. He kept his distance, his stance almost professional.

"Get off me," She spoke after awhile of silence. "And I'll tell them what I told you."

For whatever stupid reason, you believed her.

You believed, for a second, that she was actually going to make her confession and try to survive this, somehow. Jackson never took to execution as a form of punishment, so she had higher chances of staying alive that way.

Instead, as soon as you lowered your arm and simultaneously pulled your hand away from her throat, she grabbed you by your shirt's collar.

Everything happened so fast.

You gasped and shouted when you felt her teeth sink into the left side of your throat, dangerously close to the artery. Before she could completely bite off your skin, you embedded the knife in your hand to the side of her neck. Twice.

The tension in your body, the fear and anger you felt– everything came out on her neck. You stabbed her neck reflexively and as soon as she let your neck and shoulders go, you stopped, threw her back on the ground and fell on your back.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You grimaced, panting and holding your neck as you backed away from Kiki where you sat. You stopped crawling back when your back hit one of the armchair across the sofa.

The outside voices started to drown out as you pulled your hand away from your neck to see a mix of blood smeared across your hand. Your head hurt so much; the beating of your own heart, the voice ringing in your ear– too much blood–

"(Y/N), christ!" Eugene knelt beside you immediately, followed by Ellie and Jesse. Mike, Jessica and the other person stood, dumbfounded and shocked, as Kiki gave her last breath.

"No, oh god, what did I do?" Tears finally started rolling down your cheeks as you panted, visions of old memories covered in blood flashing under your eyelids making you hyperventilate.

Joel... Where is Joel...

"You protected yourself, (Y/N), it's okay! Breathe!" Eugene ran a hand through his hair, then held you by the shoulders hesitantly.

"(Y/N)," Ellie spoke worriedly: "(Y/N), you're okay– it's okay."

You put your hands on your ears in an attempt to drown out the noises, tried opening your eyes but the images weren't going away: "I can't– can't breathe," You held onto Eugene's arms. "You're– Is she–?"

Your question died on your tongue when he pulled you into a hug, putting your chin on his shoulder, then turned to the side so you didn't see Kiki's now lifeless body: "(Y/N), we need to get you to Katherine, you're bleeding."

"She was trying to stab her?" Katherine.

"Yeah, then she said she was gonna confess something she had confessed to (Y/N), but bit her nearly in the damn artery instead." Eugene.

"And whose bright idea was it to let 'em talk alone?" Tommy.

"Mine," You weakly replied as you slowly opened your eyes.

"Jesus christ, (Y/N)," Tommy sighed, relieved, and sat to your right. You were back in the hospital, where Doctor Katherine, Eugene and Tommy had been waiting for you to wake up.

"We should put my name up outside," You said stiffly, in an attempt to make a joke. "Seems like I won't stop waking up in this room."

Katherine was sat to your left– she put a hand against your forehead, then the back of it: "I got a fever?"

"You had a mild fever while I was operating–"

"Woah, hold on– operating?" You sat up, holding your neck to find it patched up. "Was it that bad?"

"She almost tore out the meat, that crazy–" Eugene spoke, but huffed with frustration halfway.

"I don't wanna rush you," Tommy put a hand on your shoulder and gave you a worried look. "But I need you to tell me what happened."

You and Eugene exchanged a worrisome look: "Just back there, or right from the beginning?"

"Everything," Tommy said after awhile. You gave Katherine a hesitating look, which she didn't notice, but sighed and began telling everything: from the dirty looks you got, to the symbolism of flowers and the night before Ward's death; then how some townspeople were riled up against you, and finally how she confessed to everything and attacked you, ultimately resulting in her death. Tommy went a little pale throughout, especially when you told him of her confession– Same with Eugene. Katherine looked devastated.

"Some folk ain't gonna believe this," Tommy said with an apologetic look on his face.

"Well, fuck 'em– I believe her." Eugene shook his head from where he was leaning against the windowsill. You offered a brief smile.

"I believe you too, but it just sounds too absurd, no offence," Tommy said, scratching his beard. "A damn maniac and his psycho wife... Then this whole– confession?"

You just sighed and looked down, where you had been playing with your fingernails and tips nervously: "To be frank, I don't owe anyone in this town a goddamn thing, except for maybe Katherine here. I'm not gonna try and convince a bunch of people, who have no place in my business, that I'm right or whatever. I did what I had to– and I have you all, so..."

Katherine took your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze: "That you do. We got you (Y/N), you're safe."

You gave them all half a smile, struggling not to cry but you managed to keep your tears to yourself. Tommy smiled, tsked and put his hands on his hips: "Well, now I'm worried about how Joel's goin' to react."

"React to what?" Came a tired voice from the door, the voice of your husband who was supposed to be away at a run.

"Joel?" Tommy's shocked tone mixed with yours, which was laced with both relief and disbelief.

"Tony got injured before we could make it out the county, Earl and I had to bring him back," He said from the door, slowly walking in and taking Katherine's place by your side: "Ran into Daisy, said my lovely wife managed to land herself here again."

He put his hand through your hair and combed it back, giving you a solemn yet soft look, then kissed your forehead and kept his lips pressed there for a few seconds. He then pulled back and gently looked at your neck: "What happened?"

—————

tagging: @spideysimpossiblegirl @sherry-212 @joelsgeetar @peachymelon69 @assinteractions @gizmogurlie41786 @giselatropicana @unfinishedsynopsis @nervousmumbling @thewintersoldierswife @roxypeanut

#joel miller #joel x you #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #tlou x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic

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write-ur-wrongs · 3 years

Text

Nature’s Nurturing Ways

Hi y’all! This pandemic has really taken the wind out of my sails these past few weeks (maybe months? Time is completely untraceable right now). This piece is born out of a lovely anon’s request, bolded below. As always, I haven’t proofread this mess, so please forgive the typos! I’ll do my best to correct them post-publishing. I seriously can’t thank you enough for taking the time to send me your ideas, and I promise I’ll get better at writing actual drabbles LOL. I hope you enjoy :)

Hii can you write something abt Geralt being w a plant-based reader where she loves animals and nature? Tysm

_____________________________________________________________

Geralt and Jaskier had been travelling for hours when the beating sun finally wore them down. There hadn’t been a breeze in days and the hot, stale air was starting to suffocate the uncharacteristically quiet bard, who wouldn’t dare compete with the surrounding cicada’s symphony.

“Geralt,” he rasped, “do you hear any running water? Drips or gurgles? I’ll take anything.”

“Jask, it hasn’t rained in days and it’s hotter than the depths of hell,” the Witcher sighed before continuing, “I said no yesterday, the answer is the same today.”

“Euughh!” Jaskier threw his head back in despair before hanging his head in exhaustion. “Geralt, I don’t want to be dramatic -,”

“Ha!” Geralt twisted in his saddle to look back at his friend with a quirked brow.

“- but I will fall off this horse and die of exposure if we don’t find water soon.”

Shaking his head, Geralt knew that despite the bard’s tendency to embellish, the situation was getting dire. They’d traveled this way dozens of times before and had always relied on the steady creek that ran alongside the trail for water. The region wasn’t known for dry spells and while Geralt was sure he could manage either way, his companion on the trail was not so durable.

They wouldn’t arrive at their destination for another three or four hours, at his level of dehydration and with probable heat exhaustion, Jaskier might not have that much time.

With another gruff sigh, Geralt pulled back on Roach’s reins and redirected her off the road and into the forest, turning back to ensure Jaskier’s horse would follow.

Geralt knew that there was a small clearing off the road where the thick leaves from the old trees made a lush, and shaded, canopy. He’d been there before a handful of times. It’s where he shared a tender first kiss, where he’d laid his head on Y/N’s chest before falling asleep feeling the cool, lush, grass cradling his large frame. It’s where he first said I love you.

Shaking his head slightly to pull himself from his memories, he dismounted and grabbed both sets of reins, leading the horses into farther the clearing. Once they’d reached the middle of the small field, Geralt released Roach’s lead and gave her a neck a scratch before leaving her to graze.

“Come on Jaskier,” he said, reaching into the gelding’s saddle bag for some food, “get off your horse and lay down in the grass.”

The bard fell out of his saddle with a thud while Geralt continue to root around the bag, huffing as he kept coming up empty.

“Did you eat the last of the cheese?”

“Mmpft,” Jaskier replied incoherently, face down in the grass.

“Hey –”

“Oi! You kicked me!”

“Where is the food? We had bread, cheese, and meat left over last night. Did you fucking eat it all?”

“No, you oaf,” he said, rolling over onto his back, “we ate the rest of it this morning.”

“Fuck!” Geralt cursed under his breath, pulling his hair up off his neck to cool off. He could barely remember what they’d done earlier that day. The heat had been unbearable all evening, and the rising sun only made it worse.

“Don’t worry about it Geralt! No need to apologize for accusing me so harshly.” Jaskier said, words dripping in sarcasm.

Geralt merely looked down at the bard with disdain and rolled his eyes, refusing to admit the sun might be affecting him too.

“Shut up and take off your shirt –”

“Oh-ho!” he laughed weakly, wiggling his eye brows at the witcher. No matter how beaten and battered the bard may be, he’d never miss an opportunity to tease Geralt.

“No, Gods! Fuck,” Geralt went on, flustered, “the grass will cool you down a hell of a lot faster if you’re in direct contact. And besides, Y/N will kill me if I let you die of exposure.”

“Always so serious, eh Geralt?” Jaskier chided playfully, pulling off his tunic before laying back down onto the grass, “Oh-ho-ho-ohhhh yes… Sweet merciful goddess of all that is good, this feels amazing! Yes, yes, yes!”

While he was sure the bard was still mumbling gratefully, and disgustingly, at the feeling of the cool grass against his skin, Geralt’s mind was elsewhere. Somewhere in this clearing, wild heliotropes had bloomed and the sweet, almondine scent was pulling him into a memory.

“Geralt! Witchers use herbs, mushrooms, and flowers in all kinds of magic,” you said, your hands resting high on your hips, “I find it incredibly hard to believe that in all your years and extensive travels, you’d never learned to forage?”

“All my years, eh?” he’d replied, cat-like eyes gleaming back at you.

“Well of course,” you teased, “I mean, unless you mean to tell me that silver head of hair is a choice born out of vanity?”

“I’m going to make you pay for that later, Y/N.” He laughed, taken aback and a little impressed that you felt so comfortable with his mutations as to mock him playfully.

“Ha! Me and what coin?” you reply with a light laugh, bending over to collect the generous mushrooms growing through the bed of leaves and needles.

Geralt turned his head towards you to hit you with a winning comeback, but found himself lost for words when his eyes failed to meet yours.

You get up slowly, peering over your shoulder to find your witcher’s eyes on your backside. Smirking to yourself and quirking a brow flirtatiously, you toss a handful of dirt and wet leaves his way, hitting the poor soul right in the chest.

“Distracted, Geralt?” you said, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you straightened up.

Geralt swallowed thickly, desperately trying to string together at least a couple words – witty at best, coherent at least – when he heard a twig snap in the surrounding forest.

Quick as a flash, he drew his sword and his attention towards the source of the disturbance, a large boar. Chest already swelling with pride at the thought of providing you with a hearty meal, Geralt prepared his attack on the creature before him.

Seeing that the “threat” in question was nothing but a passing porcine, you dove before him with a shout, dropping the mushrooms on the way. Your scream coupled with your sudden movement startled the beast, and it dove deeper into the brush to escape.

“Geralt, no!”

“Damn it, Y/N,” he swore, “I could’ve had it! We could have had a decent meal! We – we would have been set for days!”

“No, Geralt! We have food, right here in this clearing. We needn’t take lives from the forest to eat.”

“Gods, Y/N,” he sighed, dropping his sword to the ground in frustration, “do I need to remind you of the cycle of life? Creatures live, they die, and they get eaten so others can live –”

“Yes, and by leaving that gentle giant to its ruminations, we’ve allowed it to go on, to feed its young, or hell! By leaving that boar to live, we might have secured a lifeline for a fellow wolf or fox. Geralt look around you; mushrooms, flowers, these thick leaves, those berries? You see that tree there? At its roots there are nuts, and over there? Those flowers? Means there is garlic. The forest will feed us with ease if we simply care to drop our weapons, and look.”

Geralt looked at you and with soft eyes, he took in the way your eyes burned with passion, the way your chest rose and fell with every energized breath. He looked around you and really looked at the plants around him, beyond scanning for any toxic or dangerous herbs, he did his best to see the forest through your bright eyes.

Looking at you he felt his chest swell once more, but this time the feeling was warm, grounding.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said quietly, pulling you into his arms, “so, so much.”

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You knew he loved you. You had known for months, but you’d made peace with the fact that he loved you however he could, and that that would have to be enough, even if it meant you wouldn’t hear him say it.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet dove,” you murmured, reaching up to lay a soft kiss on his forehead, “I love you too.”

Geralt was wrenched from his thoughts by a swift kick to his shin, courtesy of the bard.

“Shhht!! Geralt!” Jaskier shout-whispered, still kicking at the witcher’s shins. “A deer! A d- dinner! Food! Geralt!”

Side-stepping out of the bard’s frantic little kicks, Geralt looked around him in a quick movement, spotting the deer with his hand primed above his sword’s hilt.

The world seemed to go quiet and still when his eyes met the doe’s. Despite himself, he could hear your voice in his head telling him that she’s a young, vibrant member of this forest’s population. That at her age, she’s likely a first-time mom or about to be. That she has more life to live and more to give to the land than be a poor man’s meal.

Jaskier watched in hungry-horror as Geralt waved his large hand at the creature, turning his back to it before looking down to meet his shell-shocked gaze.

“What the fuck, Geralt!” he spat, “what happened to “Y/N would kill me if I let Jaskier die”? What the fuck! That was food! Survival!”

“You’ll be fine Jask, shut up and lay in your grass.”

“As long as you don’t make me eat it.” He grumbled, not quietly enough.

A laugh rumbled through him as he walked towards to forest line, spotting thick dandelion leaves, mushrooms, and bushes ripe with nuts. He might not necessarily need to feed Jaskier the grass beneath his feet, but he was going to make him eat his words.

***********************************************************************************

“There you are my intrepid explorers!” You damn near squealed at the sight of them, dropping your basket of recently-purchased produce as you ran towards them.

At the sight of you, Geralt dismounts and runs to meet you in a tight embrace. You hold each other tightly, breathing in each other’s scent; his cedar, damp earth, and cut grass, and yours sweet almond.

You pull back just enough to look him over quickly and, spotting no fresh injury or new scars, pull your brows together curiously.

“Did you get lost?”

“Not at all,” replied Jaskier, clapping Geralt on the shoulder, “You’d be impressed, madam Y/N! Our dear witcher made quite the feast. Pulled me right out of the greedy jaws of death, he did!”

“Oh?” You said, brows furrowed in a silent question. Knowing what you meant, Geralt shook his head and kissed your temple to reassure you.

“Picture me this, Y/N,” Jaskier mused as he untacked his gelding, “I’m wilting away, inches from Death’s grip, and Geralt sweeps me under a lush canopy of trees and lays me in the grass…”

“Lays him in the grass? Should I be jealous?” you whispered.

“Never my love,” he replied softly, his forehead against yours.

“… then our honorable friend bid the deer a fond farewell, letting him get away! Yes, Y/N, there I lay, starving, thinking the sun must have cooked the sense right out of him when he marches out of sight only to emerge moments later with a bounty!”

“A bounty?” you mock-gasp, egging the bard on to Geralt’s great displeasure.

“Yes! We ate like kings in that forest, Y/N. All we did was eat but I felt hydrated and renewed! Truly a culinary delight.”

“A delight, Geralt!” you giggled, giving his waist a squeeze.

“Gods, won’t he ever shut up?” he grumbled, ghost of a blush creeping up his collar.

“Oh hush, my love,” you cooed, “without Jask’s bragging, I’d have never known what a big softy you’ve become.”

Wordlessly, Geralt looked down at you in mock-contempt, unsure that this wasn’t a veiled insult. He was instantly reassured though, when his eyes met yours.

“You left the deer.”

“I did.”

“And you foraged, found just what you needed.” You spoke softly, admiration and love rounding your features out beautifully.

“That’s right.”

“Now where did you pick up skills like that, my dove?” You chanced another tease, twirling a lock of his white, dust-packed hair around a finger before giving it a light tug, your head cocked to the side.

“Oh, I had an exceptional teacher…” he said, wrapping an arm tightly around your waist and bringing his other hand up to cup your face, pulling into a deep kiss.

#geralt of rivia #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher x reader #the witcher fandom #geralt of rivera #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #Jaskier #fanfiction #fanfiction requests #fanfic #geralt imagine #anon

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andvys · 3 years

Text

New friend (part 3)

Warnings: fluff, a bit of angst

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

A few months into staying in Jackson, you’ve had the best time. Having a roof over your head, food at all times, being able to take hot showers and sleep in safety was something you never thought you would have. You grew up in this world, hearing stories from how it was before the outbreak from the older people, you used to envy that. Wishing for a bit of normalcy, which you got now, you were so happy and thankful that you met Ellie and decided to trust her and go with her. You haven’t been this happy in such a long time. You just wished that the people from your old camp were alive and safe somewhere, hoping they found something similar to Jackson.

You tried different jobs, you tried gardening, working at the stables, helping Maria organize some stuff. You figured patrolling would be more your thing, you’ve been out there for so long you knew how to handle yourself, letting your survival skills go to waste like that while being copped up behind the safe walls of Jackson would be a waste. So that’s what your job was now. You’d mostly been patrolling with Joel, learning more about him and his relationship with Ellie. You found him a little intimidating at first but you liked the older man, he was nice to you. You mostly talked about music, telling him all about your favorite bands.

Right now you were just coming back from a long patrol, currently riding on your horse right beside Joel, about ten minutes away from Jackson. The sun was beginning to set, the spring air getting a little fresher with the light wind blow against your face, you sighed, closing your eyes for a second, enjoying this moment, it was nice to be outside. Sure you loved being in Jackson but you also loved being outside, you loved nature, it always gave you a calm feeling.

“You miss it?” Turning to Joel, he was watching you curiously. “Being outside.” He added.

“I mean, yes and no. I love Jackson don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for the opportunity to live there. It’s safe and I haven’t felt safe in a long time but being outside gives me the feeling of freedom you know?” You looked at Joel, he nodded at that, understanding what you meant.

“But I know what is out there and I don’t want to live this life again.” You added.

“I get it kid, I felt like that too when Ellie and I got to Jackson but I would just think about what’s out there and compare it to the safety in Jackson, I would never want to get back outside again. You’ll need some time to get used to being behind walls but it’s all gonna be okay.” He gave you a smile. You smiled back at him, nodding to that.

“I see you made some friends too.” He was referring to Ellie, Jesse and Dina. “Ellie cares a lot about you, she constantly talks about you when she comes over.” Getting shy at that, you hoped he didn’t catch your awkwardness because of the last sentence.

“I.. yeah.. I.. umm.. I care about her too. Ellie’s amazing, she saved my life that day, I owe her.”He smiled at that, seeing you getting a little embarrassed about him telling you that Ellie talks about you, he knew there was a little more than friendship between the both of you.

From what Joel has seen from you so far, he liked you the most out of Ellie’s friends. Despite being out there for so long, probably encountering the worst people and going through things no one should go through, you were still a positive person, you were nice always cracking jokes with him whenever you were patrolling with him. You could also stand your ground, killing clickers and stalkers as if it was the easiest thing in the world, Joel knew that Ellie would be safe with you if something happened, even though he knew Ellie can handle herself, it was nice to know that someone was there to protect her in case something went wrong.

Arriving at the gate, it was opened for you. You went inside, both you and Joel got off your horses. Smiling at him you told him you could bring the horses back to the stables.

Shaking his head at you he gave you small smile “I got it, someone’s waiting for you.” He looked behind you.

Furrowing your eyebrows, turning around you saw Ellie walking towards you from afar. Smiling you turned back to Joel, “alright, thank you Joel. I’ll see you tomorrow have a nice night.”

“You too, (y/n).” He smiled at you, waving at Ellie he guided the horses back to the stables.

Walking towards Ellie, you noticed a worried look on her face.

“Hey stranger, I mis-“ not being able to finish the sentence she rushed over to you pulling you into a tight hug. You were confused about the sudden contact, hugging her back.

“Ellie? What’s going on?” You questioned, worried about her.

“I- what’s going on!? What took you so long? You were supposed to be back two hours ago, I was so worried about you!” She exclaimed, pulling back from the hug but keeping you close, holding your hands. Your heart almost burst at her being worried about you.

“I’m sorry Ellie, we had a few run ins with some clickers, there was a small horde we had to wait it out at one of the cabins.” You explained.

She nodded at that, “I was so worried something happened, I’ll ask Maria if she can assign us to patrols together, that way I won’t have to worry something happened.”

You could kiss her right then and there. She was worried about you just like you were always worried about her whenever she left for patrols.

“I’d like that Ellie, now let’s go home.” Taking her hand in yours she smiled at you, squeezing your hand she started guiding you back home.

You still lived with Ellie. You wanted to move out multiple times already not wanting to bother the girl any longer. Knowing there were some free houses but Ellie wouldn’t let you leave, telling you you should stay with her and that you weren’t a bother at all, you couldn’t decline that offer. You loved living with her and you loved her. You wanted to kiss her every night you went to sleep and you wanted to kiss her every morning she made you breakfast but you didn’t wanted to ruin the friendship. The way ellie worried about you all the time and the way she would hold your hand whenever you were uncomfortable, making you breakfast every morning, occasionally giving you kisses on your cheek was clear enough that it wasn’t just friendship but you didn’t wanted to mistake anything and ruin your friendship. You’d let Ellie make the first move.

Arriving home, she pulled you inside. Telling you to go take a shower while she would make you something to eat. This moment reminding you of the first time she brought you home. You felt so loved and safe with Ellie. Clearly she cared about you just as much as you cared about her.

After your shower you got dressed in some clean jeans and one of Ellie’s big flannels, stealing her clothes was your favorite thing to do, they were just so cozy and Ellie always told you how adorable you look in them.

Walking out of the bathroom to the smell of food, your mouth watering at that, haven’t eaten anything since breakfast you were happy to finally eat something.

You watched Ellie setting your plates down on the table. This setting reminding you of a movie you watched recently where a couple went out on a date to go eat dinner. You decided to tease her.

“This looks absolutely delicious darling, work has killed me today, are the kids asleep yet?” You grinned at her.

Ellie let out a groan but smirked deciding to tease you back “come on (y/n), you and I both know that I’d be the one going to work while you’d stay at home with the kids.”

You started laughing at that, “oh is that so Williams?” Sitting down looking down at the food, you were desperate to eat.

“Yup” she winked at you, sitting down opposite of you.

After you cleaned the dishes you let yourself fall on the couch beside Ellie where she was currently drawing something in her journal. Groaning you complained about the horde that you and Joel saw today but quickly changing the subject at the mention of Joel you remembered how he told you about a story he told you from back in the day. Ellie listened to you, she loved hearing you talk about Joel, it was important to her that you and Joel got along, she did plan on asking you out and making you hers. Zoning out she admired your face, the way you enthusiastically talked about patrolling with Joel and hearing all the stories the older man had to offer. The way your eyes lit up whenever you talked about something you loved or the way your lips curled up whenever you would manage to make Ellie laugh with your stupid jokes. Ellie was in love with you. You were special to her, it’s like she knew it right from the start even when you were covered in mud from top to bottom, she knew you’d be special to her. She could skip the dating part and marry you right away. She would do anything for you.

Right in the middle of a story you were telling Ellie you were interrupted by someone knocking on your door. Ellie realized she just completely zoned out while you were telling her a story, feeling guilty because she didn’t even know what you were talking about blaming your pretty face for that. She watched you open the door.

“Hey guys” Dina and Jesse walked inside. You and Ellie looked at them curiously.

“Umm what are you guys doing here?” Ellie asked. Not remembering making plans with them.

Jesse clutched his chest, acting offended “Ouch Ellie, can’t we come see our friends?” He wiped an imaginary tear away. She rolled her eyes at him.

Dina slapped his chest playfully “you forgot about it?” She looked back in forth between you and Ellie.

“Forgot about what?” You asked. Watching Jesse look for some snacks in your kitchen making himself comfortable on the couch next to Ellie once he found some almonds to eat.

“The dance! That was all what I’ve been talking about, are you guys even listening?” Dina exclaimed, looking annoyed at the both of you. “What were you guys doing?”

“Probably having sex, that’s why Ellie here is so red in the face.” You gasped at his words. Dina laughing at your reaction, she started to tease you too “ouuuhhhh you finally did it, it was about damn time you guys.” She winked at you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you guys?” Ellie exclaimed. She was indeed red in the face, now even more so than before.

“You know I was just kidding about that but giving the blush on your face Ellie.... I thought you had something going on with that bartender (y/n)?” Jesse smirked at you. You rolled your eyes at him at the mention of the slimy bartender that kept trying to make moves on you.

“What bartender?” Ellie asked asked angrily, not having heard about a bartender before.

“Thomas right?” Dina asked. Great so Dina knew about him too but Ellie hasn’t heard from him yet? Did you like men? She was convinced you liked girls? She felt her heart racing, feeling like it was going to break any minute. Just thinking about seeing you with someone else made her want to throw up. She thought you felt the same way about her like she felt about you.

“He’s trying to date (y/n).” Jesse teasingly said. You stayed quiet, feeling awkward about this whole situation, you didn’t tell Ellie about it because you didn’t think it was relevant, you hated that stupid bartender and you were angry at your friends for bringing this up.

Feeling betrayed even though you weren’t even dating she grabbed her jacket, leaving her house quickly. She couldn’t stay there any longer, knowing she was about to start crying plus your silence wasn’t helping, making Ellie think you actually liked that guy.

Confused about her reaction you watched her leave, looking back at Dina and Jesse they looked just as confused as you are.

“What was that about?” Jesse asked.

“I have no idea, I should go check on her. You guys go have fun at the dance.” You said.

“Are you sure?” Dina asked. Looking guilty for what just happened. She knew about Ellie’s feelings for you, she didn’t think Ellie would be this insecure about the mention of someone else. You clearly weren’t even straight. Ellie had nothing to be insecure or worried about.

“Yeah go have fun, please.” You gave them both a hug. Grabbing your jacket you ran after Ellie trying to catch up with her. You saw her walking down the street.

“Ellie!” Ignoring you she kept walking.

“Come on, Ellie wait!” She listened this time, stopping. You finally got to her.

“Ellie what’s going on?” You grabbed her shoulders, turning her around you noticed she had tears running down her face. Shocked at that, you never saw Ellie cry before.

“What’s going on Ellie?” You worriedly asked, wiping away her tears.

“It’s nothing (y/n) go back to Jesse and Dina they’re probably waiting.” Tears falling down again. She angrily wiped them away.

“I don’t wanna go back, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” You asked, worried about her.

She mumbled a no, turning to walk away again, you grabbed her hand pulling her back again, not letting her leave.

Looking at her you waited for her to say something. She looked down, refusing to meet your eyes. “Who’s Thomas (y/n)?”

“I- what? He’s no one, he keeps trying to ask me out on a date” you said, confused about why she was making such a big deal out of this.

Annoyed at the mention of someone asking you out on a date she huffed.

“Do you like him?” She asked.

“Like him? I don’t even lik-“ Realization hitting you. “Wait are you jealous Ellie?”

Like a deer caught in the headlights, staring back at you she couldn’t get a word out. Feeling embarrassed about this whole situation she looked down on her shoes.

Grabbing her chin you made her look at you. “Ellie?”

“Yes” she said.

“Yes what?” You asked.

“Yes I’m jealous, (y/n)” she looked away, knowing you knew now that she has feelings for you.

“You have no reason to be jealous Ellie. If you haven’t noticed I love you, like a lot and I’m gay like super gay, I don’t care about Thomas or anyone else, I only care about you.” You smiled at her.

Staring at you she didn’t know what to say, she didn’t expect this right now. She almost felt like she was in a dream, hearing you say that you love her was all she ever wanted to hear.

“I-“ not even letting her finish you grabbed her face, you leaned in to kiss her.

She looked at you wide eyed, shocked at the feeling of your lips moving against hers. She closed her eyes, she grabbed your waist pulling you closer to her she kissed you back. The kiss even better than what she imagined it like to be. Your lips were soft, she could get used to this. Pulling away from her, you looked into her eyes. She gave a second to catch your breath she pulled you back in for another kiss. Her hands moving from your waist towards your face, stroking your cheek with her thumb, you stayed like this for a while.

Pulling back she kissed your nose, “I love you (y/n) no actually I’m in love with you” looking at you, she smiled sweetly at you.

Smiling back at her, happy about her confession. “I’m in love with you too Ellie.” You pecked her lips.

Ellie wanted to cry out of joy, she was so happy about you confessing your love for her.

You pulled her into a hug, kissing her neck.

Pulling back you brushed some hair out of her face, just when you wanted to kiss her again you heard something coming from the bushes behind Ellie, looking over her shoulder you saw something moving, Ellie watching you curiously turning around to see what you were staring at. She pushed you behind her, protecting you from whatever it was. She told you to stay quiet, grabbing her knife she walked towards it.

Suddenly hearing a quiet “ouch” followed by a “stay quiet” you both looked at each other understanding who was behind those bushes.

“Jesse, Dina we know you’re behind those bushes.” Ellie annoyingly said rolling her eyes at her childish friends.

They got up, coming around from the bushes they grinned at you. You started laughing at them, Jesse had leafes in his hair and Dina looked annoyed about getting caught.

“Why aren’t you at the dance?” You asked them.

“We wanted to watch you guys confessing your love for each other, that was pretty cute not gonna lie.” Jesse said.

“Yeah and then you had to ruin their moment” Dina annoyingly said.

“You’re just mad that you lost the bet.” Jesse said smirking at his girlfriend. “Whatever.” Dina grumbled.

You and Ellie looked at each other confused.

“What bet?” Ellie asked.

“Dina and I had a little discussion about you two. I said (y/n) would make the first move and Dina here” gesturing to her “said Ellie would make the first move, so we decided to make a bet.” Jesse explained.

“I’m disappointed in you Ellie, I thought you’d confess first.” Dina said with a disappointing face.

“Technically we confessed at the same time.” You said, shrugging.

“Nope you confessed first (y/n) and that’s final.” Jesse said.

“What does the winner get?” You asked curiously.

Suddenly they both got quiet, avoiding your eyes. Ellie noticing their awkwardness she started laughing. “Hah you made a bet over sex, I’m guessing Jesse gets to choose whatever he wants.” Ellie said.

You started laughing too, now it was both of you teasing them instead of the other way around.

“Very funny guys, ha ha.” Dina mumbled annoyed.

“It’s okay babe, let’s leave the gays alone now, they got some stuff to do.” Jesse wiggled his eyebrows at you smirking. Grabbing Dina’s hand he started, walking back. “Bye Ellie, bye super gay (y/n).” Dina yelled out from afar.

“Ugh why are we even friends with them?” Ellie asked.

Laughing at that, “they’re the worst but they’re funny I guess.” Nodding at that Ellie pulled on your hand, walking back home. You enjoyed the quietness of the night.

“Hey Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Even if I was straight, I’d turn gay for you.” You grinned at her.

Ellie laughed at that. “I’m glad I have that effect on you.” She said proudly.

Stopping her, you pulled on her hands turning her to you, you put your arms around her neck, she put her hands on your waist, she leaned in to kiss you, staying like this for a while under the night sky enjoying the slightly fresh spring air, kissing your lover, what more could you ask for.

You found each other and you’d have each other for the rest of your life’s.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #tlou imagines #tlou

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aching-tummies · 3 years

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(Not exactly sure if I'm really doing this right but here we go.) If I was your partner... I'd take you someplace nice and encourage you to eat whatever you want. After a large meal I'd be the one to drive home, as your complaining of an upset stomach. Wanting a reaction, I'd take you down the secluded, bumpy road to see what happens.

A/N: Thanks for the lovely ask! I kind of deviated a little, incorporating some of what's been going on in my life lately (new job, stresses causing me to skip meals, the craving for pasta, etc.) The beginnings of this do delve into spiraling about weight(loss) and body image stuff a little...so if that's a trigger for people then this is your warning.

It’s been more than two years since we indulged in dine-in service at a place with non-disposable cutlery. I’ve been craving pasta for even longer than that. Creamy, garlic-y, non-reheated pasta served on a plate and twirled around a metal fork.

We haven’t taken any opportunities to celebrate for the last two years. Birthdays, holidays, promotions at work or major advancements in our career adventures—we’ve barely done anything more than acknowledge them as we both go to pick up extra shifts wherever it is that we have been working. Honestly, we’ve seen so little of each other that it wouldn’t surprise either of us if the other snuck in a job-change in the last two years. That all changes tonight.

A nearby pasta place is offering dine-in service. We booked a reservation for tonight—all you have to do is pick me up from work and we can head on over.

I’m the one that managed to sneak in a job-change in the craziness. Fast-food to office intern. I’m barely handling things. I’ve been beyond exhausted because the change happened suddenly. The office place demanded that I start with them on a whim (despite my only condition on hiring being the time to give my fast-food job the proper two week notice). Due to their abrupt “start now or we will move ahead with other candidates” ultimatum, I’ve been pulling 44+ hour weeks juggling two jobs located on opposite ends of the city.

Tonight is a celebration. Dine-in service by itself is already something to celebrate in my books, but you’re insisting that tonight is for me because I finally finished my dues to the fast-food place. The hellish four weeks of juggling is over. No more calls at midnight from me begging you to pick me up from some random quadrant of the city because I nodded off on the last bus home. No more days where I make it home from my office job only to get an urgent call from the fast-food place begging/demanding that I show up because someone cut work. No more packed weeks with no days off or time to even pack myself lunch. Hopefully no more nights where you have to peel me off of the floor because making it home was all I managed before passing out from exhaustion.

I’ve got an hour before you’re set to come pick me up from my office job. I can’t help but smile as I count down the minutes while working on editing some funding proposal that was shoved at me a couple of minutes ago.

My stomach grumbles at me and I clam up. I blush as I look around to ensure nobody heard it. The office is basically empty. All the other staff seem to have gone off to lunch. That’s something I’m going to have to get used to: the fact that there doesn’t seem to be a set schedule here…people head out to lunch whenever. As a petrified newbie, I haven’t had the guts to just take off whenever. The number of shifts where I’ve stayed here for a full eight hours and then navigated an hour and a half of transit transfers only to come home ravenous is pretty high.

Welp, if a stomach growls and nobody is here to hear it then I guess it doesn’t make a sound. I’ve got an hour left before you come to pick me up and we’re basically just two hours away from satisfying my years long pasta craving. Going out to hunt for food now would only spoil my appetite.

“I AM HERE!”

I giggle at the reference and accompanying gif you’ve sent to announce your arrival. I pack up my area and get up, saying ‘bye’ to Jerry on my way out. The second I walk out that door will mark the start of my days off for the week, something I haven’t had in over a month.

“Hi, sweetie!” I chirp as I open the passenger door and bend over to set down my bag.

As I settle in, folding myself into the car, the movements dislodge a deep rumble from my tummy. I freeze, arm still reaching out to close the door. You snicker at me with your left arm perched on your open window, fingers close to your face and highlighting that charming grin of yours that I love so much.

“Oi, close the door and we can get going.”

I do just that. With the door closed, you carefully back out of the parking space and off we go. We don’t get very far. Ah, the joys of rush hour. No use honking, Karen, you’re not ‘stuck in traffic’—you are traffic and there’s no manager for you to speak to here, moron!

I adjust my seat a little, leaning back and allowing myself to relax. I’ve done it. Tomorrow is a day off. And so is the next day. My first true weekend in over three years and my first days off in over three weeks. I can feel the tension ebbing out of me. My shoulders untense, leaving behind a distinct soreness.

My shoulders aren’t the only thing to stop tensing. Apparently, my abdominals decided to join in as well.

Grrr…RRRR…blr.br…rrr.

I blush and sit up, arms wrapping around my stomach as it continues to snarl at me. The growls come with the sharp pains of hunger pangs and I wince, hugging my tummy and pressing my arms against the pain. The grumbles are quickly drowned out by your laughter.

“Man, no wonder you say your coworkers don’t talk to you here. If I heard that coming from a newbie I’d be scared of ‘em too.”

“S-Shut up!” I don’t want to admit that my tummy has been growling very loudly at the office. I’ve skipped more lunches than I’ve eaten in my time here. I lean back in the seat again, arms crossed over my chest as I look away from you, pouting. I’m hungry enough that my stomach really hurts, I’m a panicking newbie at work that doesn’t know the ropes or what’s expected of them, and here you are teasing me.

Your right hand reaches over but instead of stopping on the shift stick it continues further until your palm finds my stomach. The gentle pressure and the warmth of your palm nudging right over where my stomach joins my intestines aids in the relaxation of my tensed muscles and brings forth another loud grumble from my guts. You move your hand slightly, patting and rubbing my flat tummy absentmindedly as you keep the rest of you focused on traffic.

“You’ve lost weight.”

“Y-Yeah…” I don’t want to admit that I’m happy about it. My waistband was loose enough to fall to my thighs before I put my belt on this morning. I love it but you and I both know weight and eating are sore subjects for me. I bite my tongue to keep from asking whether or not you think the weight loss is a good thing or not. Your tone was flat—it was an observation. The fact that I’ve been too busy and stressed out to have time to eat (or digest properly when I do) has led to the rapid shedding of pounds. Not just in the last three or four weeks, but for a long time yet. The reasons for the weight loss aren’t good…but I really do like the results, so I don’t want to hear it from you…good or bad…I don’t want to hear it. Thankfully, you don’t push the issue. Traffic picks up and you remove your hand from my stomach and put it back on the wheel.

My stomach continues to gripe and snarl as we make our way through the city at a crawl. I no longer have work to distract me and your impromptu massage has definitely woken the beast in my guts. ‘Starving’ doesn’t even begin to cover how my stomach feels. I’m starting to feel the other effects of the lack of food too. Light-headedness, feeling cold, and a limpness in my limbs. I want to press my arms into my stomach to quell some of the ache and the noises but I just can’t seem to summon the strength to put enough pressure on it. I wish you had kept your hand on my tummy. As much as your touch intensified the hunger, the pressure of your hand on my stomach was kind of comforting. Ugh…this is all wrong. We’ve been together long enough to know that both of us are into tummy stuff. Any other opportunity we’d be all over each other right now. Your mention of the weight I’ve lost and the silence that has followed since is filling me with anxiety. Under normal circumstances you’d have parked the car somewhere to tease my hungry tummy into oblivion. The fact that we’re currently driving in silence when there’s a golden kink opportunity in the palm of our hands is worrisome to me. Suddenly I don’t feel so good about the weight I’ve lost. I like it. It made me look totally bomb in my new office clothes. Buttons don’t strain even when I bend over or stretch. I spend the rest of the car ride lost in my anxieties. I’m not at an unhealthy weight. Sure, losing it is a testament of the stress I’ve been under lately…but it’s not like I’ve been intentionally skipping meals or fixating on some unachievable body image or something. This isn’t about the weight or anything, it was just a happy consequence of the hectic times I’ve gone through.

We arrive at the restaurant and you get out, expecting me to follow. I’ve managed to work myself into a ball of anxiety in the passenger seat and I don’t move. You pause on the sidewalk when you see me still strapped inside the car. You walk over and open the passenger door.

“Babe?” You see me petrified and chewing on my lip—a tell-tale sign I’m fighting some internal battle. “What’s wrong?” You cup my cheek with your hand, thumb going to pull my lower lip away from my teeth.

“Huh? Wha?” My gaze sharpens as I’m brought back to reality. I didn’t even realize we’ve arrived.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Uhm…w-well…y-you said…n-nevermind.” I unbuckle the seatbelt and step out of the car. You frown as you think back on what I meant about you having said something.

“Oh, about the weight loss?” I freeze. Bingo. “Babe—I didn’t mean anything by it, honest. Just an observation.” You scratch at the back of your head. “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately and gosh knows neither of us has had time to cook or pack lunches. I was just thinking that maybe we should work on that together. Going hungry so often sounds like a dream, kink-wise…but neither of us has had time for that lately. I was going to suggest creating a mealplan or something together, maybe bringing out the slow cooker and freezing some stuff so that we can just grab and go for work going forward.” I stumble over and rest my head on your shoulder, giving a slight nod.

I’m overwhelmed. One thing you said sent me spiraling and you just pulled me out of it.

“Ugh…don’t do that again.”

You smirk. “I won’t. Rather than think yourself into a hole over that, you should really think about what it is you want to eat. We’re ordering off the full menu tonight.”

My eyes widen. The full menu has more selection but it’s way more expensive. Every time we’ve come here in the past, we have always ordered off the specials menu—the discounted, half-size portions that they offer. You smile seeing my stunned reaction.

“Birthdays, holidays—and Sweets, you got a job! You got a job where you don’t have to deal with the dreaded ‘customer’. I’m proud of you, Sweets. This…this is supposed to be a celebration…right? For all the celebrating we haven’t been able to do in…damn, how long has it been—” Your rambling is cut off when I seal your lips with mine. I step back with a grin, watching the dumbfounded, wide-eyed expression pass over to you ‘cuz I’m usually the no-kissy-touchy type.

“Chicken parm with garlic, angel-hair pasta in cream sauce.” I know exactly what I want to order. I’ve known it for over two years. That dish has been taunting me in my dreams for over two years. When I chew on my pillow in my sleep ‘cuz I skipped dinner in lieu of sleep I’m dreaming about that dish. The last time I had it from here was with my parents—long before I met you—for a birthday when I was still in grade school. My stomach growls, punctuating my declaration. The sound shocks you out of your reverie and you slide an arm around my waist, resting your palm against my stomach as you feel all the empty rumbles reverberating beneath your palm.

“Alright. Guess we better walk in before they give away our table…or before you decide it’s quicker just to eat me here in the parking lot.”

Ugh…how am I already full? There’s still so much food on the plate. So, so much. Urrgh…

My stomach silently gripes at me. A sickly, sticky feeling is blooming in my guts. I’m sated but there is still far too much food on my plate. The full menu is more expensive, but they fill the plate up more and often use bigger plates. I’ve forgotten just how big, and my tummy is suffering. Two years is a long time to go without something and I’ve gone without fulfilling my craving for pasta in cream sauce for over two years, maybe even three. That’s a long time…long enough for my stomach to forget how to handle cream sauce, apparently.

I’ve only swallowed about a fifth of my plate and my stomach already feels heavy. The warm bread to start and the bites of chicken parmesan cutlet went down alright. They lined my stomach comfortably and my digestive tract knew exactly how to handle them. The first couple of bites of pasta were cushioned by the bread and chicken. When that lining dissolved away and more of the pasta came into contact with my gastric juices, I realized there was a problem.

My stomach pounced on the bites of bread and the water and cola I chased it down with. I could practically feel my duodenum yawning wide to suck in the masticated bread, my intestines just as hungry for it as I have been all day. When it had to contend with the cream sauce things started to slow down. I can feel a backlog of stuff sitting in my stomach, refusing to be broken down further into a form that will comfortably move onto my intestines. I’m chewing a lot more, my mouth creating more saliva. I feel sick. My stomach doesn’t hurt, yet, but it’s definitely going to as it fights with the creamy, oily pasta.

“Ooh…they’ve got tiramisu here.” You’re eyeing the dessert menu. “It’s your favorite, right?”

“Yeah…but it’s expensive and this is a lotta food.”

“We’re supposed to be celebrating, Sweets. We’ll take whatever you don’t finish to-go. Leftovers are a Godsend, remember? C’mon, let’s live a little.”

I feel a weight settle in my stomach as you flag down a passing wait-staff and order a tiramisu. To share, thank God. My stomach churns in vain, serving only to churn up the mess of creamy pasta and chicken without moving it along further in the digestive process. The sphincter to my duodenum is squeezed tight, refusing passage to the foreign cream and oil mix that it doesn’t seem to recognize.

I managed to finish just under half of my plate before the dessert arrived. I decided to throw in the towel and asked for the rest to be packed up to-go. I put on a smile as we share the dessert and hope it’s not as shaky as my guts feel. The dessert is delicious. Rich, flavorful, and perfect. If only I didn’t have to feel it sickeningly sliding down my esophagus, plopping down heavily into a stomach crammed much too full with indigestible pasta. As my stomach clenches and churns things around the creamy tiramisu is going to get incorporated with the rest of the mess. It’s going to make it thicker and creamier…as if it wasn’t already too thick and too creamy for my duodenum to open up and allow it to wreak havoc in my intestines. As sick as my overstuffed stomach feels, I am a little grateful that my duodenum is being a stubborn prick.

If the creamy mess had passed into my intestines, I’d be doubled over in the bathroom right now, rubbing futilely at my revolting intestines. I know what dairy does to my guts. It doesn’t usually happen, just when I’m stressed or it’s close to that time of the month. It’s nasty and it hurts bad enough that I honestly think hell is enduring those cramping intestines for eternity.

We finish the tiramisu. You offer me the lion’s share, but I refuse and push it back to you with a mention on my stomach being really full. I bring my hands to my stomach and I catch the way your eyes smolder at the sight. Good. Yes. Get us home quickly, darling.

You pay for the meal, and we are off. I clutch my tummy behind my bag as we walk out to the car. Every step sends aftershocks into my guts and it’s really upsetting things in my stomach.

As I settle in the passenger seat, I notice the buttons on my blouse are a little bit strained around my stomach. Horror sets in and I quickly fumble to get the buttons undone. I don’t want to ruin my shirt and the sight of the straining buttons triggers something nasty in my mind. I calm down a little once the buttons are undone and I rub my tummy under the cover of my bag, palms running up and down the dark undershirt that is draped snugly over my full belly.

“It’s still early. Want to really paint the town red and see if we can catch a movie somewhere?”

I swallow back a sickly belch to answer your question, my questing hands churning up the mess in my guts and dislodging air pockets.

“Umph…n-no…let’s go home.”

“Sweets, you okay?” Your voice is laced with concern. Surely you can hear the sickly squelching from my guts. Do I have to spell it out for you?

“Hmm? No,” I blush as I fidget and grapple with whether or not to come clean. I’m shy about this kind of stuff—you’re my partner though and have been for a long time—we’re both into tummy stuff—we haven’t done anything on this front in a very long time. Making my decision, I move my back over to the floor, resting it against my shins and I lean back, allowing you full view of my distended tummy with my blouse undone. “I just…uhm…m-my tummy’s kinda…upset…I just really want to get home.” My stomach burbles sickly throughout our conversation. I have both my hands on the rounded curve of it, rubbing at tender spots with my thumbs.

Your eyes widen at the sight of my belly rounding out my undershirt. You start the car and pull out of our stall. Instead of righting the car onto the road you keep backing into a more secluded spot on the far end of the lot. This one is obscured by an overgrown bush or tree on the passenger side.

I haven’t even bothered with getting my seatbelt on. I was too caught up in my indigestion to think of it despite it normally being a habit. To be fair, I don’t think the seatbelt is a good idea with my tummy so bloated and sore.

“What are you—”

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn in your seat, giving me your full attention. My seat is still reclined a little further than normal from the drive over. Gently, you put a hand on my shoulder, indicating for me not to sit up. Your eyes briefly meet mine and convey your plan before they go back to fixating on my belly.

I relax my arms, letting them rest at my sides as you slide a hand over the crest of my bloated gut. I bite back a groan as the slight pressure of your hand increases the pressure in my intestines. My stomach is packed full with an indigestible mass of creamy pasta. My duodenum is not allowing any of that entry into my intestines so they sit, bloated with air. The ingredients for a very upset tummy are inside of me…they just need a bit of a push to act as a catalyst.

The push comes in the form of a literal push as you place both hands, one on each side of my tummy, and squeeze. I bite back a mewl of pain until the pressure relents and you are sliding your hands all over my taut tummy.

“Oh my…you really are full.”

“Ugh…haven’t…haven’t eaten so much in a long time.” I groan as your hands churn up the mess in my guts. You know what you’re doing. You felt the firmness in my upper left and you know that everything is sitting heavy in my stomach. You focus your massage on my left, on the area where my duodenum is. You rub and nudge and coax at the area, intent on getting the sphincters to unclench and allow my meal to continue to digest.

“Oh…ah!” I can’t help but cry out a little as I feel my duodenum flood with the lumpy mess. A rumbling, wet burble indicates when the sphincter finally gives up and allows the mess in my stomach passage. My stomach acid wasn’t enough to break down the creamy, oily pasta so it’s entering my intestines relatively undigested.

After ten minutes of you massaging my belly, (in)digestion is in full swing. My intestines are filling up with the ache-inducing mass and the straining pressure that started in my stomach has now spread all over my abdomen. You reach over and pull down my seat belt, buckling it before reaching over to get my seat back into an upright position. My stomach cramps sharply with the change in orientation and my mewl of pain is cut off by a harsh belch. You pat my tummy almost teasingly as you right yourself in your seat and start the car.

I don’t bother to keep track of where we are heading. You could be taking me to the movies, intent on letting my indigestion stew for a couple of hours, or you could be driving us home. I don’t care. I can’t care because every ounce of me is focused on the sharp pains exploding all over my guts as the car hits every bump in the road. Damned city not bothering to spend money to fix the thousands of pot-holes in our roads. My stomach is just as vocal as I am about the indigestion.

You brake sharply, causing the seatbelt to dig into my tummy and tear a sharp gasp of pain from me. I see the road ahead of us…it’s not a road at all but literally the worst road in our city. This stretch of road is famous even outside of our city for just how bumpy and nasty it is. People scrape the undercarriage of their cars if they aren’t careful in avoiding the potholes that litter this thing like craters on the moon. People have lost pieces of their cars and done massive damage to their vehicles by driving down this road. People around here know to avoid this road. The alternative is a ten minute detour to take the safer, newer road and everyone agrees that ten minutes more is better than damaging their car on this road so it is always empty.

“Darling, no—”

You floor it, going down the secluded road at a high speed. We hit every bump and hole in the thing (that won’t damage the car)…you used to come down this thing often and you’re a master at navigating it to avoid damage to the vehicle. Damage to my tummy, on the other hand.

My stomach gives off aborted grumbles and gripes, each one interrupted as we hit another bump in the road. My tummy sloshes and churns. Digestion had stalled without your hands pushing everything along, but this new form of “massage” in the form of a very bumpy ride is kick starting things all over again…in the wrong direction. Stuff swirls inside of my stomach and I swear that it’s filling up rather than emptying. The pressure is building in my stomach. I’d like to believe it’s the air from my intestines, but I’m sure we managed to get most of that out with your massage in the parking lot.

"Ugh…ouch…ah—ow! Ungh…my tummy…urp…my tummy…ulp…” I can’t help it. Belches and protests roll through my throat, unchecked. It’s better than the alternative of something solid, I guess. The road has increased the upset tenfold as I clutch my stomach in both hands. The road has dialed the cramping pains up to eleven and many more aches and tender spots have erupted thanks to the bumpy ride. We’re about halfway through the road when I feel something solid tickling at my esophagus.

“Ugh—Babe—STOP!” I reach up and slap a hand over my mouth, fearing that we’re about to see my dinner come back out.

You slam on the brakes and the pressure from the seatbelt is what does it. My mouth fills with the sour mess of barely-digested pasta.

“Ugh…urk…” I swallow back the bile. It’s nasty, but there’s no receptacle and I don’t want to stink up the car. Luckily, this wasn’t a true vomiting session triggered internally—it was basically regurgitation brought on by external factors—like the seatbelt putting too much pressure on my over-packed tummy. My stomach snarls violently at the return of the sickly concoction.

You watch my struggle, fascinated. Reaching over, you put a hand on my palm, a hand that is quickly slapped away as I give you the fiercest glare I can muster.

“None of that until you get me home, darling.”

You grin, exaggerating taking your foot off of the brake pedal. I realize my poor phrasing a moment too late.

“As you command, Sweets.”

“Darling, no—”

#AT Asks #indigestion #tummy kink #tummy ache

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lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years

Text

Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever - George Weasley

Title: Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever Pairing: George x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Warnings: NSFW!!! Dirty talk, fingering, oral (male receiving), throat fucking, orgasm denial, light spanking, degredation. Summary: turns out falling in love with your enemy is more complicated that George and Y/N thought. A/N: here it is, the sequel to good girl!! This actually ended up turning out differently than I thought I would and im not sure how I feel about that but I’m gonna upload it anyway otherwise it will quite literally never end up on here haha. But anyway, feedback is always appreciated/welcome!! Read part 1 here!

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George lets out a sigh, causing Y/N to glare up at him. He had promised to be good when Y/N agreed to let him tag along with her to the library, but they’ve only been there for 20 minutes and this is already the 5th time he’s let out a deep sigh. George grins at her, and even though she wants to be mad, Y/N finds him too adorable to even act like she’s mad.

Y/N rests her chin on her hand, just letting herself watch George for a moment. It’s hard for her to believe that just a few months ago she hated his guts, because now just the sight of George makes her feel dizzy with love. “What do you want, George?”

“Your attention,” George responds as if the answer is obvious. “When you said I could come with you I figured you’d end up sucking my cock or something. Not actually do homework.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the shiver that runs down her spine. “How can one person be that horny? We literally just had sex this morning.”

George bites his lip, memories of their early morning meeting taking over his mind. Y/N is still apprehensive about spending the night in his dorm, so Saturday mornings have become their opportunity to be together before George has Quidditch practice. There isn’t a deserted corridor or secret passageway they haven’t done it in, and they spent quite a few hours together this morning in the same secret passageway they hooked up in for the first time.

“Have you looked in a mirror lately, darling? You’re absolutely gorgeous and not to mention sexy,” George compliments, reaching out to cup Y/N’s cheek. “I just can’t control myself around you. Every time I’m around you I have the overwhelming urge to just touch you and pull you close.”

Y/N can feel her cheeks flushing, and she tilts her chin forward to silently ask George for a kiss. He kisses her briefly, but it doesn’t fail to make Y/N feel lightheaded. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Georgie. And while I find you extremely, extremely sexy, I do actually have to do my homework. Because of your inability to keep your hands to yourself I’m falling behind in Potions and Herbology.”

“Oh come on Snivellous loves you, he’d probably do your assignment for you if you asked. And Sprout is a total pushover. All you have to do is give her some sob story and you’ll get an extension easily.” George’s lower lip juts out, giving Y/N his best pout. “Please? Just pay attention to me a little bit.”

“Or, you can sit here with me quietly while I do my homework, and when I’m all done you can take me to the room of requirement and have your way with me,” Y/N suggests, picking her quill back up.

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal.” George sits back in his chair, just watching Y/N work. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she works on a Potions essay and George finds it incredibly cute. He finds it hard to believe that he once wanted nothing to do with Y/N. He’s absolutely captivated by everything she does, and he could spend hours just sitting there watching her do nothing.

“First Quidditch game of the year next week,” George comments idly. He knows he shouldn’t say anything, but he’s been sitting there quietly for the past 45 minutes and he can’t resist his urge to say something. It’s a Saturday evening and they’re the only two in the library, so he doesn’t even have anyone else around to watch and distract himself.

Y/N hums, not looking up from her essay. Honestly she’s surprised George lasted 45 minutes without saying anything, so she’s willing to humor him a bit while she works. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. Angelina’s first game as captain. She’s a nervous wreck. But she’s been doing really good. It’s like Wood is still there.” George pauses, watching as Y/N scribbles a few things down. “You gonna be there?”

“Of course.” She looks up to wink at George. “Slytherin’s playing. I never miss a Slytherin game.”

George rolls his eyes playfully. “But you’re not just going to be there for Slytherin, right? You’re gonna be there to watch a super-hot Ginger whiz around the field hitting bludgers at everyone.”

Y/N shrugs. “I dunno. If you ask me Fred really isn’t that good of a Quidditch player.” When George pouts at her Y/N laughs and leans forward to kiss him. “I’m only joking, love. ‘Course I’ll be there cheering you on. Maybe not as loud as I’ll be cheering for Slytherin but cheering nonetheless.”

“Guess that’ll have to do,” George drawls, fake disappointment in his tone. George bites his lip, watching Y/N flip through her Potions book before she scribbles something down on her essay. “Can I ask you something?” When Y/N nods he continues. “Will you wear one of my extra Quidditch jumpers to the game?”

Y/N looks up at George then, putting her quill down. “And betray my house? George Weasley how dare you ask that of me!” she responds, feigning shock. “How about I wear your Gryffindor hat or scarf? That way you can spot me in the crowd of Slytherins and I’ll be warm.”

George frowns. “But I want you to wear my jumper. You can wear your own hat and scarf and my jumper will keep you warm.”

“It’s just that. I always wear one of Adrian’s quidditch jumpers. And Daphne wears one of Marcus’. It’s like, our thing. Has been since second year when they made the team,” Y/N explains. She reaches out to grab George’s hand, frowning when he pulls it away. “Georgie. Don’t be like this.”

George huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. He knows that Adrian and Y/N are best friends, and even though she’d reassured him that her and Adrian never had romantic feelings for one and other, George can’t help but feel jealous when it comes to him. Obviously Y/N is his girlfriend and he knows that she loves him, but the mere mention of Adrian never fails to drive him up the wall.

“Just thought you’d want to wear you boyfriend’s Quidditch jumper,” he mumbles, settling back into his chair.

“It’s just a jumper, George. I don’t see what the big deal is.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N sighs and gets up, walking over to George. She straddles his waist and places her hands on his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to George’s mouth. She keeps pecking his lips until George melts and kisses her back eagerly, his hands settling on her hips. “If it really means that much to you, I’ll wear it.”

“Promise?” George asks, unable to keep from smiling.

“Promise. But I’m wearing my Slytherin hat and scarf. Can’t let people think I’ve gone completely soft for you.” Y/N looks back at her homework, before looking at George again. “Ah screw it. I’ll just finish that tomorrow. Take me to the room of requirement?”

George’s eyes light up and he grips Y/N’s thighs as he stands up. “No need to ask me twice.”

“You can’t even have one meal apart from him without making love eyes at each other across the hall. It’s disgusting,” Daphne teases, pretending to gag.

Y/N flips her off, not bothering to break eye contact with George. Ever since they started dating Y/N and George have eaten every meal together, taking turns at which house table they sit at. But since it’s the night before the first Quidditch match George had opted to sit at the Gryffindor table without Y/N, so that Angelina could go over a few last-minute things with the team. He’s supposed to be listening to whatever Angelina is saying, but with how focused he is on her, Y/N knows whatever she’s saying is going in one ear and out the other. Adrian and Marcus join them then, and Y/N finally breaks eye contact with George, since Adrian sits right in their line of sight.

“You guys ready for tomorrow?” Daphne asks as they start to pile food on their plates. Snape had given the whole Slytherin Quidditch team permission to skip their afternoon lessons so they could get one last practice in on the field before tomorrow’s game. And both boys look exhausted, but also excited.

Marcus nods happily, “Oh yeah, Gryffindor is going down, no doubt about it.” He turns to grin at Y/N. “No offense to you or your boy toy, of course.”

Y/N flips Marcus off. “He’s not my boy toy, he’s my boyfriend, there’s a difference, moron. And there’s no need to be jealous, Marcus. I know it’s hard to watch me and George be together and I’m sure someday Daph will want to kiss you when she’s sober.”

Adrian laughs, prompting Marcus to hit him in the back of the head. “Don’t get feisty with me because Y/N is right. Oh, that reminds me.” Adrian reaches into his bag and pulls out one of his Quidditch jumpers. “Here, for tomorrow. I probably won’t see you before the game.”

“Oh, um. I don’t need it.” All three of her friends give Y/N a look and she puts down her fork. “I’m gonna wear George’s jumper tomorrow.”

Daphne frowns. “But you always wear Adrian’s. And I wear Marcus’. It’s a tradition, Y/N.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “It’s just a sweater, Daph. You’re acting like I’m stabbing him in the back or something.”

Adrian huffs and puts the sweater back in his bag. “If it’s just a damn sweater then why are you wearing Weasley’s? Didn’t know you stopped making decisions for yourself when he started shagging you.”

Y/N whips her roll at Adrian’s head. “You’re lucky there’s a table in between us Adrian or I’d break your fucking arm. Why are you being such a dick? George is my boyfriend and he asked me to wear his jumper. It doesn’t mean anything to me, but it does to him, and I love him so I’m going to wear it.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Adrian apologizes. “It just annoys me that things are changing. It used to be just us four. Now it’s always us four and George.”

Y/N sighs. As much as she hates to admit it, Adrian is right. They’ve operated as a foursome ever since the first train ride to Hogwarts, when they were all just scared 11-year olds. Throwing George into the mix has changed their dynamic and she’s sure it’s been hard on all of them to adjust. “I’m sorry. It’s not like I planned on getting a boyfriend, it just kinda happened. I’ll wear your jumper to every other Slytherin game, okay?”

“Guess it’ll do,” Adrian settles, taking a bite out of the roll Y/N threw.

“Woo! Let’s go George! That’s my boy!” Y/N shouts, causing the Slytherins around her to all glare. Harry has just caught the snitch meaning of course, Gryffindor has won. Y/N turns to Daphne who’s pouting next to her and shapes her fingers in the form of an L. “Sorry, Slyther-losers. Good luck winning the Quidditch cup now!”

Daphne rolls her eyes and scoffs. “You’re a Slytherin too, you realize that, right?”

“Not today!” Y/N pulls her Slytherin knit cap off her head and shoves it into her jacket pocket as she unzips it to show off the red and gold jumper she’s wearing. “I’m a Gryffindor today, baby! Now come on let’s go, you can go make sure Marcus doesn’t drown himself in the showers and I can give George the congratulatory blow job I promised.”

“Ew! Way too much information, Y/N,” Daphne grimaces.

Y/N laughs as they start to head down to the pitch, unable to keep the smile off of her face. George looks hot just sitting there doing nothing, so seeing him whiz around the field hitting bludgers has left Y/N feeling dizzy with a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. He was gripping his bat so hard his knuckles were turning white, and the veins on his hand were visible from her seat in the stands. He looked so powerful up there on his broom, and it’s a sight Y/N never wants to forget.

When Y/N and Daphne finally reach the ground she’s about to breakaway to sneak into the Gryffindor changing room, when Daphne grabs her arm. “What?”

“Look!” Daphne insists, directing Y/N’s attention towards the outskirts of the pitch.

Y/N swallows the lump that has appeared in the back of her throat. Angelina, Katie and Alicia are holding onto Fred, who’s desperately fighting against them, a dark look on his face. George has an identical look on his face, and he’s trying to throw Harry off of him. Draco is standing in front of them, and while Y/N can’t hear what he’s saying, she knows it’s nothing nice. “That can’t be good.” Her and Daphne rush over, just as Marcus and Adrian start to approach.

“Get back up to the castle,” Marcus directs not even bothering to look at them.

Daphne hesitates, but Y/N grabs Adrian’s arm. “What are you guys doing?”

“We’re gonna back up Malfoy, obviously. You heard Marcus, get out of here.” Adrian tries to shake Y/N off, but she tightens her grip on him. “I’m serious, Y/N. Go back to the castle. Whatever is about to happen is not going to be pretty.”

Y/N looks over at George. Harry now looks just as angry and is struggling to hold onto George’s Quidditch robes. They’re close enough now that Y/N can hear the tone of Draco’s voice, and it’s dripping with cockiness. George’s fists are clenched at his sides, like he’s preparing to knock Draco’s lights out. She’s never seen George like this, and while it turns her on to no end, it also scares the shit out of her. She lets go of Adrian’s arm and starts heading towards George to try and stop whatever this is that’s about to go down.

It’s Adrian’s turn to stop Y/N, and he wraps his arms around Y/N’s waist. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re about to put yourself in the middle of a blood bath.”

“Let me go, Adrian! As much as I would love to watch George beat the shit out of Draco this is not the time or the place.” She tries to break free from Adrian’s grip just as George finally looks away from Draco. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, but Y/N doesn’t miss the pure rage in them. George’s eyes drop to where Adrian is gripping her and before anyone can do anything George is lunging at Draco, punching him straight in the jaw.

“What did I tell you?” Adrian growls as he starts to pull Y/N back towards the castle.

Y/N lets Adrian drag her away as watches in horror at the scene unfolding in front of her. Harry has joined in the fight as well, and he and George are on the ground on top of Draco. Fists are flying everywhere and every time one connects with a body Y/N’s stomach lurches. After what seems like an eternity Madam Hooch and several professors are descending on the scene and their view is completely cut off.

Y/N takes the stairs up to Gryffindor tower two at a time, desperately in need of seeing George. It’s been a few hours since the debacle that went down on the Quidditch pitch and Draco has just finished bragging about the event after getting back from the Hospital Wing. What Y/N had wanted to do was grab Draco and hang him in the dungeons from his ankle, but instead she stormed out of the common room in search of George. His punishment is severe, and all she wants to do his hug him close.

“Oh thank god,” Y/N greets Ginny as she reaches the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She really hadn’t thought about how she was going to get in until she was already halfway up the staircase. Y/N had planned on just standing around until a Gryffindor showed up, so she’s truly thankful that Ginny is already there.

Ginny smiles at Y/N and pushes the Fat Lady Portrait open. “When George got back I figured it would only be a matter of time before you came to find him. He’s up in his dorm”

When Y/N steps into the common room it’s dead quiet. Gryffindor’s parties are notorious around school, and Y/N knows that if the match had ended differently there would be a rager going on right now. Fred is starting daggers at Y/N, and she can feel her face heating up as she heads up towards George’s dorm. Fred is still not the biggest fan of her relationship with George, but he’s usually less obvious about his feelings towards Y/N.

Y/N takes a deep breath as she reaches the seventh-year dorm and she knocks quietly. “George? Georgie? It’s me. Can I come in? ”When George doesn’t say anything, she frowns and pushes the door open anyway. “Georgie,” she coos as she enters, shutting the door behind her tightly. George is sitting on the edge of his bed shirtless, facing away from her. His shoulders are tense, and it makes Y/N’s chest ache.

“How did you get in here?” he asks firmly, not bothering to look at her.

Y/N bites her lip and starts to tentatively walk towards him. “Ginny let me in, she was waiting for me, actually.” She stops when she’s a few steps away from him. “Are you okay?” she asks softly.

George huffs. “What do you think?” His tone is sharp, and Y/N can feel tears welling up in her eyes. She figured he would be upset, but she has no idea why he’s upset with her.

“I can’t believe that toad banned you guys from Quidditch. Actually I can believe it, she’s fucking awful.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N starts to play with her fingers. “Will you talk to me George, please?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Y/N. Just go hug Adrian or whatever it is you do when I’m not around.”

Y/N frowns and goes to kneel behind George on the bed. She reaches out slowly and places her hand on his shoulder. “Georgie what are you talking about? You’re the only one I wanna be with. Every second of every day. You know that.”

“Do I?” George asks as he stands up and turns to face her. “Because you two looked pretty cozy today down on the pitch.”

Y/N lets her eyes drag over George’s face. His eyes are dark and narrow, reminiscent of the way he was looking at Draco earlier. His lip is busted open and he’s got a pretty daunting black eye, but he still looks like George. “We weren’t hugging down there, George. Is that what you thought that was?”

“That’s what it looked like, Y/N. His arms around your waist like that. Only I’m allowed to touch you like that,” George growls, his fists clenching. “If you hadn’t been standing in front of him I would have broken his jaw, not Malfoy’s.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot, George,” Y/N spits, suddenly feeling angry. Although she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t turned on a little as well. Seeing George so angry and possessive has ignited a pit of arousal in her stomach. “He wasn’t hugging me. He was keeping me from throwing myself at you to keep you from hitting Draco. You know if it wasn’t for Adrian you could have hurt me, George.”

“I’ll be sure to go thank him then,” George sneers. “God, Y/N how can you be so daft. He’s clearly in love with you. I’m sure he was just looking for some excuse to touch you.”

“You can’t be serious George. We’ve talked about this. Adrian and I have never and will never have feelings for each other.” Y/N gets off the bed and comes around so she’s standing in front of George. “And you know what even if Adrian does have feelings for me I don’t return them. I’m in love with you, you big fat fucking moron. So quit it with this jealousy crap, George.”

George suddenly grabs Y/N’s hips and pulls her into his chest harshly before leaning down and kissing her hard. “I’m not jealous,” he insists as he pushes her back onto his bed. “But you’re mine, Y/N. And I’m gonna make sure every person in this school knows that. Especially that prick Adrian.”

“God, George. You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” Y/N sits up and wraps her hand around George’s necking, pulling him in to a desperate kiss. She lays back against the bed as George forces his tongue into her mouth, pulling him on top of her.

George starts to bite and suck on Y/N’s neck, feeling the need to mark her up as much as possible. He wants there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind who Y/N belongs to when he’s done with her. He nibbles along the underside of her jaw, leaving small purple bruises in his wake. “You look so fucking hot in my jumper, Y/N. Such a shame I’m gonna have to take it off.”

George’s hands have started to run up under the jumper, his cold hands shocking her warm skin. “Then don’t,” she gasps as George bites the crook of her neck harshly. “Leave it on while you fuck me, please. It smells like you, Georgie.” Y/N moans and tangles her hands in his hair as George starts to cup her bare breasts, his calloused thumbs rubbing harshly at her nipples.

“That desperate for me already, darling? So needy for me that you wanna be able to smell me while I ruin your pretty pussy with my cock?” George pinches Y/N’s nipples hard, smirking as her back arches up off of the bed.

“Please, George,” Y/N moans, tugging on his hair. “Just wanna be your good girl.”

Y/N’s words send a shiver down George’s spine and he kisses her briefly. “You sure you wanna be my good girl? ‘Cause the way you’ve been talking makes it seem like you wanna be a bad girl.”

“Yes, George. Always wanna be your good girl, wanna be so good for you.”

George pulls away from Y/N completely and sits up, starting to fumble with the button of his trousers. “If you wanna be my good girl so bad, then you’re gonna use that pretty little mouth to show me just how good you can be.”

Y/N sits up and bats George’s hands away, undoing his trousers and shoving them down to his thighs along with his boxers. She practically drools as his hard cock pops out, and Y/N immediately wraps one of her hands around it and starts to stroke him lightly, while her other hand pulls George down into a searing kiss.

George grabs Y/N’s face in his hands as he lays back onto the bed to keep their lips connected as she settles in between his thighs. He groans as Y/N’s thumb starts to swipe over the tip of his cock and he pulls away from her mouth, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as he does. He watches it snap back into place, a little redder and plumper before and he starts to shove her head downwards. “Go on then, Y/N. Wrap those pretty lips around me so I can fuck your throat.”

Y/N immediately settles on her knees between George’s thighs, gripping the base of his cock tightly as she takes him into her mouth. She loves it when George is rough with her and tells her what to do. Seeing him jealous and angry turns her on to no end, and she can already feel her wetness coating her thighs. Y/N takes him down as far as she can, moaning when he gathers her hair in a ponytail and gives it a sharp tug. His hips jut up, shoving his cock farther down into her throat, and Y/N braces one of her hands on George’s hip while the other fists his bed sheets.

“Oh fucking hell,” George moans as Y/N looks up at him from under her eyelashes. “Look so fucking pretty like that, darling, with your mouth wrapped around my cock. You love sucking my cock, don’t you Y/N?” She hums around him, and George’s hips surge upwards, burying the rest of his cock between her lips. Y/N gags as he hits the back of her throat and George uses his grip on her hair to keep her there for a moment before he pulls her off slightly.

Y/N lets her tongue run up against the underside of George’s cock as he starts to thrust into her mouth and as his hand guides her head. George shoves the tip of his cock into the back of her throat with each thrust, and Y/N can feel tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes with each gag. She makes sure to pay attention to the tip of his cock every time he pulls her back, letting her tongue flick at it and collect the precum that’s started to bubble up at the top.

George picks up the speed of his hips, groaning as drool starts to dribble down Y/N’s chin. “Always suck me so well, Y/N. Such a good girl for me.” George let’s his cock hit the back of Y/N’s throat one more time, before he pulls her off completely. He wipes some of the drool off of her chin with his thumb and cleans it off on his pant leg. “Thank you, baby for getting my cock nice and wet, perfect for me to fuck you with. Go on then, get on your hands and knees.”

Y/N gets into position as George gets off of the bed to take his bottoms fully off. She feels George push the bottom of his jumper up, so it bunches around her hips and she moans as his large hands grab her ass. The bed shifts as he settles in behind her, his hands tugging at the fabric of her leggings.

“George!” she gasps as his hands tear a whole in her bottoms, suddenly exposing her bare core to the cold air of the room.

“No panties?” George asks as he shoves two fingers into her wet heat. Y/N moans as her walls clench around his digits and George starts to slowly fuck her with them. “Such a dirty fucking whore you are, Y/N. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to use you like a little fuck toy, like you’re just a warm wet hole for me to bury my cock in. Isn’t that right?”

“Please,” Y/N begs as George’s fingers curl and finally brush up against her g-spot. George has never been this lewd with her, and she can still hear the anger in his voice. “Please, Georgie,” she whines, pushing back against his hand.

George smacks Y/N’s ass hard with his free hand, revealing in the moan that leaves her lips. “Answer me, Y/N. If you wanna cum tonight you’ll be a good girl and use your words. You’re just a warm wet hole for me to fuck and ruin, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, George, yes,” Y/N pants as his thumb starts to rub her clit.

George bites his lip as Y/N’s thighs and arms start to shake, and he smacks her ass again. “And you love being my dirty little fuck toy, don’t you?”

Y/N moans as George curls his fingers again, nodding wildly. “Love it so much Georgie, please. Wanna be your good girl, wanna make you feel good.”

In one fluid motion, George removes his fingers from Y/N’s core, grabs her hips and slams his cock into her, his hips moving until he’s buried completely inside of her. “Always so fucking tight for me darling,” George groans as he starts to move his hips. He sets a relentless pace, fucking into Y/N hard and fast. “I want to hear every little noise that comes out of you as I fuck you, understand? Want this whole fucking school to know just how good I make you feel.”

“So fucking big George, holy fuck,” Y/N moans. “Always fuck me so good, Georgie. No one can ever make me feel as good as you do, love your cock so much.” Unable to hold herself up from the pleasure coursing through her veins, Y/N falls forward onto her forearms, arching her back for George. The new positions allows him to slip even deeper inside of her, and she clenches her walls around George as she whines. “Right there, oh fuck. Harder George please. I need you,” she begs.

George tightens his grip on Y/N’s hips and slams into her harder. Normally George prefers to take things slow, but he still has the image of Adrian’s arms around Y/N’s waist and he wants to fuck her so hard that he forgets it completely. “Such a dirty fucking whore, Y/N. Begging for me to ruin you.”

“George,” Y/N groans as his thumb starts rubbing harsh circles on her clit. The tip of his cock rubs her g-spot with every thrust and her hips start to push back against him as her orgasm starts to build. Her body feels like it’s on fire and she can’t help the noises that come out of her mouth with each of George’s thrusts. “Please, George. Been such a good girl. Can I? Can I come George, please?”

George grunts as Y/N clenches around him even tighter, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay. “I don’t know if you deserve it, darling. Fuck toys don’t get to cum, do they? And that’s all you are, isn’t it? Just a little fuck to for me to use for my pleasure?”

“Please, please, please,” Y/N babbles as tears start to stream down her cheeks. She’s teetering on the edge of her climax and all she needs is for George to allow her to feel it. Pleasure is moving like an electric shock through her body and she desperately wants to let go. “Georgie, please,” she begs, the desperation clear in her voice. “I’m all yours, only yours please. Only want you, George. Please, please, let me cum.”

“Fuck that’s right, Y/N. You’re mine,” George growls. “Forever. Understand that? No one’s ever going to touch you or kiss you or fuck you ever again. Just me, only me. Go on then, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

Y/N cries out George’s name as she cums, her whole body shaking as pleasure courses through her. She collapses against the bed as her chest heaves with heavy pants, her body feeling like it’s floating. George’s hips have started to stutter as his own orgasm approaches, and Y/N clenches around him to help bring him to his climax. “Fill me up George, please. Claim me, make me yours forever.”

“Fucking hell, baby.” George collapses against Y/N’s back as he cums, his orgasm rocketing through his body. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum this hard before, and his hips slowly roll as he twitches inside of Y/N. Once he’s finished releasing inside of her George slowly pulls out and collapses on the bed next to Y/N. Silent tears are still rolling down her cheeks and George immediately pulls her into his chest. “I went too far didn’t I? Fuck I’m so sorry Y/N.”

Y/N sniffles as George starts to stroke her hair and press soft kisses all over her face. “They’re good tears Georgie I promise. It was incredible, honestly, love.”

George wipes away a few of the tears before he pulls Y/N in for a passionate kiss. Their lips move together slowly, and George starts to gently rub her back. “I would never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you. I love you, Y/N, so much.”

“I love you too, Georgie. Forever, yeah?”

George pulls Y/N closer to his body and kisses the top of her forehead, praying that the anger he still feels in his chest goes away. “Forever.”

Despite the fact that George had promised her forever that night, Y/N can’t help but feel that they’re starting to drift apart. With their lifetime Quidditch ban in full effect, George and Fred have started to put even more time into their Weasley products and Y/N feels like she barely sees George anymore. He still walks her to class holding her hand tightly and he’s always sure to remind her that he loves her, but they no longer eat meals together and Y/N can’t remember the last time George begged her to skive off her homework to fool around in the room of requirement. But she’s happy that he’s found something to put his extra time into, so she doesn’t think too much is wrong until George misses their next Saturday morning meeting.

“What’s wrong?” Adrian asks as Y/N slumps over to the Slytherin table. Most Saturdays Y/N’s friends don’t see her until lunch time, so they’re all surprised as she falls into her seat next to Adrian.

Y/N sighs and starts to put random food onto her plate, not really feeling like eating. “George never showed this morning. We were supposed to meet in the room of requirement and I just sat there for thirty minutes feeling like an idiot.”

“You mean your prince charming stood you up? Guess things aren’t as happy in the kingdom as they seem,” Marcus teases. Daphne smacks him upside the head, prompting him to frown. “I was just trying to make her smile Daph no need to try and take my head off.”

“You’re an idiot, Marcus,” Daphne scolds before turning her attention back to Y/N. “I thought something was up with you guys, but I didn’t want to say anything. I feel like I’ve barely seen you two together this past week. George is usually always hovering around you, I mean he practically worships the ground you walk on. You guys get into a fight or something?”

Y/N shrugs, picking at her muffin. “He was pretty pissed after what happened last weekend at the Quidditch match. When Adrian was trying to hold me back from going over there he thought we were hugging or something. I don’t know, he was really angry though. But I thought we uh, worked it out if you get what I mean. But clearly not.”

“What a git. He managed to score the hottest girl in school and yet he still managed to fuck it up,” Adrian murmurs, putting his arm around Y/N’s middle. “You deserve better than him, Y/N.”

Y/N rests her head against Adrian’s shoulder and sighs. “He’s all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Don’t look now,” Daphne whispers, leaning over the table. “He just walked in with Fred, act natural.”

Y/N ruffles Adrian’s hair as she sits up, trying to pretend that she can’t feel George’s eyes starting at the back of her head.

George slams his quill down on the table, running his hand through his hair. “Fucking bullshit. No matter how many times I calculate it the numbers just don’t match up.”

“Will you chill out? It’s not that big of a deal we can work on that shit later,” Fred urges, watching George carefully. “What’s got your panties in a twist lately? I’ve never seen you this worked up.”

It’s Saturday afternoon, and Fred and George are tucked away in a corner of the common room, working on stuff for their joke shop. George has been trying to work on an input output expense sheet, but all of the numbers keep blurring together and he can’t seem to figure out how to make them balance. It probably has something to do with the fact that things between him and Y/N aren’t quite right, but he doesn’t want to think about that.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” George says flatly, looking back over the sheet in front of him.

Fred sighs and leans back in his seat. “You’re a shit liar, you know that? And I do have eyes, you know. Something’s going on with you and Y/N and you’re clearly upset about it. And I’m not going to stop asking about it until you tell me so just spill it so we can get back to work.”

“I’ve just been so angry with her lately, like constantly. Every time I’m around her it just flares up in my chest and I have this urge to just, I dunno. Yell at her.” George pauses. “I mean did you see the way he was touching her today? I wanted to storm over there and rip him away.”

Fred knits his eyebrows together. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Adrian,” George clarifies, his voice dark. “He’s always touching her, and Y/N just lets him. Even though she knows how I feel about him. Did you know I had to beg her to wear my Quidditch jumper to the game last week? And do you know why? Because she always wears Adrian’s,” he mocks. “I’m her bloody boyfriend and I had to beg her not to wear another guys jumper, it’s ridiculous.”

Fred reaches out and puts a comforting hand on George’s shoulder. “You’re my brother and I care about you, please try and remember that as I say the next thing. You’re a fucking idiot, George. I know I’m not Y/N’s biggest fan, but it’s clear that she cares about you. The way that she looks at you George, even when you’re not paying attention it’s like you’re the only thing in the world she cares about. I don’t think she means any harm when she’s like that with Adrian and deep down you know that too. I mean they’ve always been like that. Remember when you guys got detention before you were together? He showed up to walk her back to the common room and he gave her a piggyback ride. It’s not like they’ve just started being close. I don’t think I ever saw her away from Adrian or any of her friends until you guys started dating. Whatever you’re feeling is all in your head.”

“It doesn’t feel all in my head. The way he looks at her, it’s not the way someone looks at a person who’s just a friend,” George insists.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Okay so say Adrian does have feeling for Y/N. He’s clearly very deep in the friend zone. We all heard you guys last weekend, screaming about how she’s yours forever or whatever. Nearly made me throw up in my mouth, mate.”

George punches Fred’s shoulder lightly. “Fuck off. Y/N said the same thing but-“

“See! There you go,” Fred interjects, cutting George off. “Y/N said it herself. She’s in love with you, not Adrian. So, stop being an idiot and go apologize to her before she realizes what a dolt you are and ends it for good.”

George does leave the common room then, fully intending to go and see Y/N. He still feels angry deep in his chest, but his need to be close to her overwhelms all of it. That is until he finds Y/N in the library, her head titled back in a laugh at something Adrian has said. The anger in George’s chest flares as she pushes him playfully, a wide smile on her face that’s usually reserved for George.

Y/N can tell something has gone wrong, when there’s no Weasley’s in attendance at breakfast on Monday morning. They had all been a dinner the night before, and one Weasley not being around is perfectly normal. Even two being absent is normal if it’s Fred and George. But all four of them is unheard of, especially when Harry never shows up for breakfast either. She tries to keep herself calm, thinking that maybe they’re just doing something for the DA or planning some revenge on Umbridge. But when lunch comes around and Y/N has yet to see George or Fred in class and there hasn’t been a single streak of red hair floating around the halls, Y/N makes a beeline for the Gryffindor table where Hermione is sitting alone.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s George and everyone else. I haven’t seen them since dinner last night,” Y/N asks as she takes a seat next to Hermione. When Hermione finally looks at Y/N there’s a worried expression on her features and it makes Y/N’s stomach drop.

“George didn’t owl you?” When Y/N shakes her head, Hermione leans forward to whisper in her ear. “I can’t say too much, Dumbledore’s orders. But something happened and Mr. Weasley was badly injured, he’s in St. Mungo’s. George and the rest of the Weasley’s along with Harry took a portkey home last night, Dumbledore gave them all permission to start winter break a few days early.”

Y/N frowns, a mixture of emotions flowing through her body. On one hand she’s worried about George’s dad and how he’s coping with everything. And on the other she’s hurt that George didn’t feel comfortable enough to reach out to her and tell her what’s going on. Y/N had hoped they could make things right before being a part for two weeks, but it seems that the wedge between them is only being pushed farther and farther apart.

“Is he going to be okay? Mr. Weasley? God George must be freaking out.”

Hermione shrugs. “I haven’t heard anything yet, Harry sent an owl when they got to their destination last night. They hadn’t heard much yet, but I’m sure he’s in good hands at St. Mungos. And I’m sure George will reach out soon, Y/N. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Y/N gives Hermione a small smile before she goes to join her friends, a pit of despair growing in her stomach.

“It’s Christmas eve, Y/N. You’ve been held up in your room sending letters all break, can’t you give it a rest for a few days? I’m sure Daphne or Adrian will understand if they don’t get any letters from you for a bit,” Y/N’s mother says, reaching over to grab the quill from her hand.

It’s been a week since George’s father was attacked, and Y/N has been sending him letters nearly nonstop without hearing anything in return. Her owl always comes back with an empty beak, so she knows he’s been getting the letters, and her heart hurts every time he doesn’t respond. She just wants to know if he’s okay, if there’s anything she can do for him. Y/N knows she’s been ignoring her parents a little too much, but she can’t think about anything except for George.

“I’m not writing to Daphne or Adrian,” Y/N huffs, finally looking up at her parents. They’re sitting at the table having lunch together, or at least her parents are. Y/N’s owl had turned up without a response from George just before food was ready, and Y/N wants to send another to him as soon as possible.

“Well then who have you been writing too?” her father asks. “I don’t think I’ve seen you write this much in your entire life.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, a pink blush appearing on her cheeks. “George Weasley,” she mumbles, looking away.

“George Weasley? Y/N whatever prank that boy pulled on you can be dealt with when you get back to school. There’s no need to be going on and on with him over break,” her mother tuts with a shake of her head.

Y/N’s parents have spent much of their time over the past few years listening to Y/N complain endlessly about both Weasley Twins, so it doesn’t surprise her that her mother thinks her letters to George are out of anger instead of love. Especially since she’s yet to tell them about their relationship.

“Actually, George is my, um. He’s my boyfriend,” Y/N mutters, sheepishly looking back at her parents. They both look shocked and she rolls her eyes. “Don’t look so surprised, I’m a great catch, of course I have a boyfriend.”

Y/N’s father laughs. “Sweetie we’re not shocked that you have a boyfriend, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world of course. But I’m going to be honest, George Weasley is the last person I thought you’d end up with. Last we heard you hated the very sight of him.”

“Well not anymore. I love him, so much. He’s been going through some stuff recently and I just want to make sure he’s okay,” Y/N explains. She makes sure to leave out the part that she thinks he’s going to break up with her when they get back to school, since she’d much rather ignore that for now. “Can I just finish this one letter, please? And then I won’t send another until boxing day, I promise.”

Her mother sighs and reluctantly hands her back the quill. “Fine, just one more letter. But seriously no more until boxing day. Not only is it the holidays but your poor owl needs a few days to rest.”

“You should write her back you know,” Ginny comments as she sits down next to George.

George hums, gripping Y/N’s most recent letter in his hands. His chest aches at how sad she sounds, but he can’t bring himself to pick up a quill and write her back. “I don’t know what to say.”

Ginny rolls her eyes. “How about I’m a big fat idiot and the second I see you again I’m going to fall to my knees and beg for your forgiveness? That’s probably a good place to start.”

“Dunno why I have to be the one to apologize,” he mutters, wincing when Ginny smacks him upside the head. “What the hell was that for, Gin?”

“For you continuing to be a big fat idiot,” Ginny spits. “You’ve been acting like a huge asshole to her lately George that’s why you need to apologize. It only takes a person with half a brain to see how you’ve been pushing her away. So cut the crap. Either apologize to Y/N and beg for her forgiveness or break it off.”

The thought of breaking up with Y/N makes his stomach lurch. There’s no doubt in his mind that he wants to be with her, but it feels like he doesn’t know how to anymore. It seems that whenever Y/N is around Adrian is right there too, and it makes anger flare up in his chest. He knows it’s not rational, but it doesn’t make it any easier to stop feeling that way. George wants Y/N all to himself, as selfish as that may be.

“She’s probably gonna break up with me, so I don’t see the point.” George tosses the letter in his hands onto the coffee table and leans back against the couch. “Who knew being in a relationship would be so difficult?”

“It wouldn’t be so difficult if you just talked to her, git,” Ginny points out. “She’s written you a letter practically every day of break, obviously she cares about you and is worried about you.” Ginny pauses so George will look over at her. “What’s wrong anyway? Thought you guys were doing okay?”

George shrugs. “I can’t stand Adrian and his smug fucking face. He’s just there. Always. Watching her, trying to get close with her. And Y/N just sits there and lets him. You know I caught them together in the library a few nights before Dad was attacked.”

Ginny’s jaw drops. “You caught them hooking up?”

“What? No. They were doing homework,” George explains.

Ginny punches George in the thigh as hard as she can. “You’re a fucking moron, George. Since when is doing homework in the library someone cheating? Or a reason to get mad?”

“It wasn’t just the fact that they were doing homework. They were sitting next to each other and he was making her laugh,” George huffs, as if Ginny is the one being unreasonable.

“You’re joking, right?” When George doesn’t say anything, Ginny rolls her eyes. “Since when are you this insecure, George? Y/N is crazy about you. And Adrian is her friend, of course he’s gonna be around.” She bites her lip. “I think you’ve been putting too much thought into this George.”

George sits there for a moment, letting Ginny’s words sink in. Perhaps he has been getting a bit ahead of himself. Something about seeing Y/N with Adrian when he was so worked up over what Draco had been saying must have twisted something in his mind. He had felt jealous about Adrian before that, but never in a way that made him question his relationship with Y/N. Usually all it takes is one look from Y/N and all of his ill thoughts flush away. But lately it seems nothing can calm him down. He’s been putting distance between them in the hopes that his anger would finally go away, but as soon as it feels like he’s back to normal the second Y/N is in his vicinity with Adrian it all comes rushing back.

“I think I have been too,” he admits quietly. “It doesn’t feel real, sometimes. That Y/N is actually mine. I thought I only started developing feelings for her this year, but I think I’ve felt things for her for a while, I was just too stubborn to realize it. And now that I have her I want her all to myself. Like if I share her with other people she might just disappear from my life completely.”

Ginny reaches out to pat George on the shoulder. “Then tell her all of that, George. Because it’s actually kind of sweet in a weird way. Y/N loves you, George. And I know you love her. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt because you don’t have the balls to just talk to your girlfriend.”

“What a pep talk you give, Gin,” George chuckles. “But you’re right. I’m gonna talk to her, first chance I get. This is too much to put into a letter. I wanna be able to look at her while I talk to her.”

“Great. Now will you stop being so miserable? It’s really killing the Christmas spirit,” Ginny teases, ruffling his hair.

“Are things with George getting any better?” Daphne asks from her spot on Y/N’s bed. Her parents had decided to do some traveling in the new year, and Y/N’s parents allowed Daphne to finish up the last few days of break at their house.

Y/N shakes her head, flopping down next to her. “Nope. I haven’t heard a thing all break. Every time Aries comes back his beak is empty. So, he’s clearly reading my letters and he can’t be bothered to write back.”

Daphne puts her arm around Y/N and tosses the copy of Witch Weekly she’d been reading off of the bed. “What a fucking prick. I haven’t said much about it because I love you and you’re my best friend and I know he means a lot to you, but Adrian was right. You do deserve better, Y/N. Your boyfriend should be worshiping you, not ignoring you.”

Y/N hadn’t told anyone about George’s dad, and she’s sure he’d get a bit more sympathy from Daphne if she knew, but if Hermione couldn’t even tell her how his Dad got hurt Y/N is sure she shouldn’t tell anyone about it at all. And besides, Hermione had owled the day after Christmas to let her know that Mr. Weasley was home and recovering well. George’s lack of communication cut Y/N deeper after hearing that.

“I think he’s going to break up with me,” Y/N admits out loud for the first time, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I love him so much and I thought he loved me too, but I don’t know. It’s like overnight things changed between us and I’m the only one trying to fix it.”

Daphne pulls Y/N in tight and hugs her. “This is the second time you’ve cried over George being an asshat and my offer still stands. I will have Adrian and Marcus beat him up.”

“The last time I cried over George he was only being an asshat in my head. But now, I’m sure he’s being an asshat in real life too,” Y/N sniffles. “God I wish break lasted just a little bit longer. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I see him on that stupid train tomorrow.”

Daphne starts to stroke Y/N’s hair and wipes away a few of her tears. “Well just say the word and I’ll have Adrian and Marcus on him before he can even say Quidditch.”

When Y/N and Daphne get on platform 9 ¾ the next morning George’s shock of red hair is the first thing she sees. She forces herself to stay focused on her parents as they say goodbye, no matter how badly she wants to look over at him. Her heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest, and all she really wants to do is sneak onto the train and to her friends without running into any Weasley. But of course, the second she’s on the train she walks smack into a hard, familiar chest.

“Trying to mow me down?” George teases, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist.

It reminds Y/N of when they were still dancing around each other, too scared to admit their feelings, and it punches a hole in her chest. “Hi, George.” Y/N pushes away from him and starts to walk away, but George’s hand wraps around her wrist and pulls her back towards him. “What?” she asks flatly, looking up at him. Her eyes catch something shiny stuck to the scarf he’s wearing, and Y/N bites her lip to keep from smiling. “You got your Christmas present I see.”

She had wanted to get him something big and flashy for their first Christmas together. But everything she considered just didn’t seem special or sentimental enough. She had found it in some muggle store in London while shopping with her Mum, and even though it was tiny and simple, it was the perfect thing. It’s a little enamel pin in the shape of a teapot. The hours she spent with George scrubbing teapots is the foundation of their relationship, it was after that night that she first started falling in love with him.

George bites his lip and reaches out to cup her cheek. “I was an asshole to you. And you have every right to be super mad at me. But can we go talk somewhere, please?”

Y/N nods and lets George grab her hand and take her over to an empty compartment. It’s clear to her that she and George have some issues they need to work out, but she’s happy to just enjoy some time with him for now. They haven’t been alone together in nearly three weeks, and she’s been dying for his attention. She takes a seat as George closes the door behind them and pulls him down next to her once he’s close enough.

“I have a lot of things to say and I don’t know if they’re going to come out right so please just stick with me while I try and say them, okay?” George takes a deep breath and reaches out to grab Y/N’s hands in his. “I’ve missed you so much these past few weeks, even before break. I think Draco knocked something loose in my head when he punched me, I’ve just been so angry since that day, and I don’t really know why. Just seeing you and Adrian together fills me with rage. And I know it shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t know what I would do without you. I just kept getting in my head about everything and it made me not treat you the best. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Then why push me away, George? Why not answer one of my stupid letters? I’ve been losing my mind here, trying to figure out what’s going on in that head of yours. I meant what I said that night, I’m yours forever, Weasley.”

George sighs and leans down to press a lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “I started over analyzing everything and I couldn’t tell what was real and what was going on in my head. You mean so much to me, and the thought of losing you made me go even crazier.” George pauses so he can tuck a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “I should have written to you and at least let you know I was okay, I’m sorry for that. But this is a conversation I didn’t want to have in a letter. I wanted to be able to see you and hold you.”

“It’s okay, George. I guess when we started dating there was some stuff we should have talked about that we kind of just ignored and that’s partially my fault. I just tried to integrate you into my life that already existed, when in reality we should have started something new together,” Y/N explains, squeezing his hands. “Adrian and I are closer than normal friends, and I can see why that would concern you. Same thing with the sweater. Of course, you’d want me to wear yours, I shouldn’t have even questioned it. I’m sorry, George. I’ll try and do better too, okay? Because I love you and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I love you so, so much. And I’ve been really shit at showing it. I meant what I said that night too, Y/N. Forever.” George leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips, melting when she returns it. “I don’t deserve you.” George kisses her again, winding his arms around her. “Alright, I think now is the perfect time to give you your Christmas present.”

Y/N holds her hands out, bouncing up and down excitedly. “Come on then, let’s see what you got me!”

George rolls his eyes playfully and takes a long black box out of his jacket pocket. “I do want to preface this by saying that I bought this ages ago before I got your present in the mail, and they do say great minds think alike.”

“You got me a tea pot pin too?” she teases, taking the box from George. A quiet gasp leaves her lips as she opens the box, and she gives George a small smile. “George it’s perfect.” Inside the box is a delicate silver chain with two charms attached. One is in the shape of the letter G and the other is a teapot. “Although I find it quite funny that we both got each other teapot related items.”

“Well that’s the night it all began, isn’t it?” George ask as he takes the box from Y/N. He grabs the necklace and motions for her to turn around so he can put it on her. “After that detention I knew I couldn’t live without you, Y/N. Listening to you talk about wanting to be a healer, and how you wanted to change the world, it made me see you differently. Made me start to fall in love with you. Besides I don’t think I could find a charm of a secret passageway.”

Y/N giggles, and as soon as the necklace is on Y/N turns around and pulls George into a kiss, her hand coming up to grip the charms tightly. When George starts to pull away Y/N surges forward to keep their lips pressed together for a few extra moments. “I love you, George. Thank you.”

“Course, darling. Anything for you.” George pulls Y/N into his chest and presses a kiss to the top of her head, the anger he’s felt for so long finally quieting down.

#George weasley #George Weasley imagine #George weasley smut #gw #golden

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mskimkaty · 4 years

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Quit | J.JH

Angst, Smut, fluff (little bit on the end)

Synopsis: You might think that some people who did you bad have little impact in your life, tip toeing from situations that you knew could repeat the same mistakes but there will always be that one person who will destroy all your resolve and you’ll find yourself fucking your rules for them.

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: love u all. pls enjoy! (not really proof read)

Edit: uhmmm pls don’t judge me but this is actually my bf and my story of how we met to how we become couples. Alright. Enjoy!!!!

You hated how you didn’t take “searching for college schools” seriously, and now, you’re all but stuck for the rest of your college years in the same school you graduated from High school. You know it’s a good school, having to be in the top 7 elite schools all over the country that has an institution that offers all levels of education— but you honestly don’t care about that right now. You wished you didn’t choose the easy road in finding a good college because now you’re stuck with a university that has zero-base for their grading system, 75 marks as their passing grade, and put their students with fully loaded units— having up to 30 units per semester. How Asian can it get?

Fourth-year high school wasn’t your year, when a particular boy, Jeon Jungkook broke your heart. He was a close friend first before he became someone more than that, you told yourself not to be involved with the likes of him in any way, you first meet during your junior year by a mutual friend—Joy, your best friend, was in the same class as him, thus, the reason the both of you became close.

Joy warned you about him and you knew because that’s what you told her base on your first impression on Jungkook, but you still tested the waters. And that’s how you broke your heart for the first time, you let yourself trust him despite all the bad things that you heard about him, you ignore everything because you were happy around him, but you were tired of having a relationship without a label and the fact that he doesn’t want you to be seen together speaks so much. You went on a retreat for 3 days in your senior year as it was a requirement for every graduating students by your catholic school, you weren’t going steady per se, but you still talked nonetheless, as he was getting busy with basketball, and you, having the cheerleading competition around the corner, training, exams, and graduation. You both have so much on your own plates.

You kept on seeing red flags— the way he’s not responding to your calls and messages for a week, you haven’t really seen him around the school as varsity players have their own retreat, and when you saw a photo posted in his Instagram account with a girl in your year. She was a transferee, that’s all you remember after receiving a text message of him saying sorry. You hated how forgiving you can be, you hoped you can be tough and talk back to him— but no, you never had the chance to say what you wanted to say to him. You just let everything go. You can’t even ask someone to comfort you because of the fact you were a secret. You didn’t even know why you agreed with that kind of set up in the first place. Why did you choose something temporarily for a piece of mind? You hated how easy you can get sometimes, but you closed that chapter in your life after cursing him for months in your head and some Friday night parties until you graduated High school.

And now, you’re in your second year of college and very much single. You received a message from Seulgi, saying that she needs to cancel your plans from eating out because of a midterm exam that got rescheduled she was your best friend together with Joy, Irene, and Wendy since high school but college happened and the five of you went with different schools except for Wendy and Seulgi who enrolled at the same University. You have a heavy sigh, it’s not that you don’t have friends in your own department, you do. It’s just that all your girlfriends have classes and won’t be done until 3 in the afternoon— and you’re very much hungry.

You saw a very familiar face exiting the lesson hall next to yours and you’re quick on your feet to hide behind the walls of your classroom.

“Y/n, I’ve already seen you, you know.” Suh Johnny stands beside you with Ten beside him smiling at you, you three both did your handshakes after getting drag out of the room. “Have you eaten already?” Ten asks and you shook your head. Johnny put his arms around your shoulders and the three of you walked out of the campus to eat out.

“Oppa, what’s that?” you asked Ten preferring to his phone when you all settled down while Johnny browses the menu on what to order. “Jaehyun asked if he can join.” He says to the both of you, you look at Johnny as you both shrugs. Jung Jaehyun was once an IT student, he shifted after a year into your department and incredibly smart in mathematics. He was instantly everyone’s friend in your year.

“I’m cool with him,” Johnny says and they both look at you. You’re not really fond of everybody and not entirely friendly with everyone. You’ve been close with Johnny and Ten who were much older than you only because you knew them since High school. “It’s cool.” You muttered.

“But you wouldn’t be comfortable around other people, though.” Ten commented. They were completely aware of your introverted ass. They know what happened to you during your fourth-year high school, not only with Jeon Jungkook but the fact that all of your female classmates during your senior year made you an outcast. You honestly find it funny now, since you know that you have four amazing friends who stuck with you through thick and thin. You wished you had taken up the opportunity when Seulgi asked you to join her for hunting college schools before graduating High school so that you can be with her throughout your college years, but what’s done is done, what happened to you in the past brought you here right now and made you who you are. It wasn’t a problem for you— you like having the quality over quantity. You like how your circle of friends isn’t that big, too many people in your life can cost you too much trouble in the end, you know that because you’ve already experienced it first hand, having many people in your life will only lead you to disappointments.

You weren’t familiar with Jung Jaehyun, per se, you just had a class with him during the second semester of your first year of college, that one professor you disliked so much teaching algebra instead of business mathematics and had the audacity to fail you. You hated how you got a failed mark while Jaehyun passed the subject despite his absences, you acknowledge him for having a big brain when it comes to numbers but you still find it unfair how he passed and you failed, you wished you could be as smart as him. You first met him when Mark introduced you to him after your Psychology class, you were talking with Mark about your Final output for the subject when he came up to Mark— fist-bumping, while wearing a white hoodie and black jeans, had those big Nike bags that you knew Basketball players uses, his white sneakers clean and you look at yours— completely worn out and definitely needed a new pair.

He was smiling at you, eyeing Mark while waiting to be introduced to you. That got you rolling your eyes at him unknowingly, making him slightly intimidated with you. You shot Jaehyun a fake smile— he was cute, charming, tall, and obviously another varsity player. God, your skin starts to crawl, another varsity player is being too friendly with you. You bid Mark goodbye, and that was the start of your acquaintances with Jung Jaehyun, he was everywhere, becoming the Mr. Congeniality of your Department in no time when he shifted after a year in Information Technology.

The three of you waited for Jaehyun to arrive before ordering your lunch, you waited for another minute before the door opened and Jaehyun walked in wearing a black long tee and denim jeans paired with his clean white sneakers. He settled down beside Ten who was in front of you and you started to become uncomfortable. Johnny and Jaehyun decided to get your orders and you were left with Ten in your booth.

“Y/N, Jaehyun’s a good guy, you already know him for half a year, why are you still uncomfortable around him?” Ten asks you as you heave a heavy sigh. It’s not that you're uncomfortable around him because of your trust issues, you’re uncomfortable because clearly, he’s your type, and you’re not comfortable with the idea of it, you know he already had a girlfriend, you saw his wallpaper for a second when he put it down on the table before locking it. “I’m not. It’s just that—Oppa, can’t I be shy around people?” you countered, Ten looked at you funnily. “Don’t kid with me, y/n- ah. You guys both have International Cuisine, right?” he asks and you nod. “Then, you’ll be around him more often from now on, loosen up, He’s a great guy, if he did something to you, just tell me and Johnny and we’ll take care of it for you.” he flashed you a smile and you brush it off while giggling at him. “Thanks, Oppa, but no thanks.” You say and the two came back with two trays full of food. “It’s on me.” Johnny settled down next to you and you shoot him a grateful smile as the four of you started digging.

“Are you throwing a party for your birthday?” Johnny suddenly asked, you nod at him and he muttered a small okay while your eyes darted at Jaehyun— it would be totally rude not to invite him for your birthday party when the topic is already laid on the table. Plus, he was looking at the three of you intently, seemingly out of place with the subject of the conversation. “Jaehyun, you should come on my birthday, It’s on the 19th, just some drinks and food on me, nothing too grand.” You find yourself saying and Ten and Johnny were shocked that you invited him. you clear your throat and continued “Can you guys ask everyone? I haven’t seen Yuta, Jungwoo, and Taeil Oppa but I already asked a bunch of people.” You added. They all agreed. “Thanks for inviting me, I think I don’t have anything going on that day,” Jaehyun commented. “Sounds like a plan.” You say and the four of you continued digging in.

That night on your birthday, everything made a 360-degree turn in your life. Having 23 boys in your flat and some of your girlfriends turn out to be so much fun. When you run out of drinks you find yourself on Jaehyun’s passenger seat as the two of you drive to the nearest store to purchase some alcohol— You and Jaehyun seem like the only person sober enough to walk and drive your way outside the comforts of your home. You felt really comfortable around him, he hasn’t made a move on you or anything, and you think that maybe it’s because he already had a girlfriend and is faithful to their relationship.

“Why didn’t you bring your girlfriend with you?” you asked just to start a conversation. “You knew?” he asked you while throwing you side glances, you nod your head yes. “It’s kind of complicated, plus, we're not official.” He continued which made you shocked, he was being open with you shockingly. “What? Why?” for some reason, it made you really curious. He gives you a heartily chuckle “It’s complicated.” You only nod.

When you came back to your flat, you and Jaehyun were left to sit together, Mark and Haechan were completely out of it, while Joy and Irene are having a conversation with Jisung and Chenle. It’s nice to see them conversing with each other. Johnny was busy preparing the drinks with Yuta, Taeyong, and Seulgi, while the others are setting up the karaoke on your flat screen Tv hanged on your living room’s wall.

You thought that was the last time you’ll see Jung Jaehyun, or you thought that was the last time you’ll be together in the same room as well as be at the same table together. You forgot that you both have classes together, that you’re practically in the same department, you honestly forgot that you’re both in the same circle of friends.

You’ve been closer with the guys as time goes by, they were nothing like the people from your High school, they were honestly cool to be with, it just that, they like to unwind sometimes, and that “sometimes” means every Friday of the week, unwinding with drinks and such. This time, Jaehyun was the host, and Jungwoo together with Taeil managed to dragged and convinced you out of girlfriend nights. You have been hanging out with them more than usual and you were getting closer with Jaehyun, particularly, you keep on looking for him at gatherings and he kept on looking out for you. There was an unspoken mutual understanding between the two of you, you know it was wrong, even if you find yourself giddy and happy when he messages you or when he calls you before you go to bed when the two of you meet in between subjects just to eat together. You knew you were repeating the same mistakes as you did with Jungkook, and you can’t help but fuck yourself because everything is wrong at the same time feels right. How screwed can you get? Why do you always choose temporary happiness over a peace of mind?

That night, when most of the guys left to go home and some of them left to smoke outside, you find yourself alone with Jaehyun in his living room. You poured him and yourself a shot, the guys were surely taking their time outside. “One-shot.” You tell him and you both down the tequila in seconds, hissing at the taste burning your throats. You stared at him, thinking that you have to start distancing yourself from him, you don’t want to ruin what he had with his girl. Your stomach turns just by thinking about the possibilities of ruining someone else’s relationship. You were better than that.

You move your gaze away from him, you were about to pour another shot when you felt Jaehyun’s warm hand on your neck pulling you closer. You felt his warm lips on yours, it was sweet and warm, burning you within, but the taste was anything but sweet— you tasted the tequila out of his lips as he licks your bottom lip that got you responding to him, you closed your eyes and find yourself fucking your boundaries for him. You wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you closer by the waist, rubbing small circles on your skin. You break the kiss as you put your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath. He was about to kiss you again when you move your face away from him, trying to put some distance away from him. “Did I do something wrong?” you heard him saying. You wipe the smudged lipstick on your skin below your lips as you face him. “Jaehyun, you’re not completely single.” You said. “But I’m not in a relationship either, I told you months ago, it was complicated.” He sits beside you properly, a hand clamped together as you look at him.

“Jaehyun, this is non-negotiable. I don’t want to ruin someone’s relationship.” You say, and Johnny walks in. you poured yours and Jaehyun’s shot glass clicking with his before downing it in one go. If Johnny felt the thick air between the two of you, he doesn’t comment on it.

You choose to forget what happened when all of the guys started walking back inside. Started conversing with Johnny about this student in your department that got kicked out of the university because of some issues. You got your self a couple of drinks before standing up to head to the bathroom, but since it was your first time at Jaehyun’s house you ask him where it was, plus Lucas was incredibly taking his time in the bathroom so Jaehyun leads you to his room instead. “Just use mine, Lucas is taking forever.” He said. You nod and head for the bathroom in his room. His room was surprisingly clean and very much boyish in your opinion, the walls are painted blue, his bed covers are white and was neatly done, the cabinets are on the side while a bunch of basketball trophies is beside his computer.

When you were done with his bathroom, you find him sitting at the end of his bed, browsing his phone while waiting for you. “I thought you already went down,” you said. Jaehyun looks up at you. “Can I look at your trophies?” you asked him and as he walks to you and standing beside you to look at his achievements during his High school days.

“Wait, you went to Santa Clara?” you asked him. “So, you know, Jeon Jungkook?” you asked shocked at the information when he said as small “Yes. Why?”

You shook your head and muttered nothing. “We went with some tune-up games in the past, but I know him, he and his group keep on hitting on our cheerleaders it was kind of funny.” He says to you and you laughed. “What’s new, but— wow, what a small world.” “Oh, that’s right he graduated from St. Vincent, right?” you turn your head at him and you see Jaehyun looking at you while waiting for your answer, you only nodded your head, not having the gusto to talk about Jeon Jungkook at the moment. You felt Jaehyun’s hands circling around your wrist, turning your body against him making you look up to him.

You were completely drawn to him, from the way he pulls you closer by the waist, the way he lifts your head as he put his other hand to your face, he has you completely wrapped around his fingers. You felt his lips doing wonders to you and this time you let him kiss you. You find yourself wrapped around him for the second time. “Jaehyun—”

“Hmm.” You felt him deepened the kiss as he pulls you impossibly closer, hips to hips pressed together and you hated how right it felt. “We need to go down.” you tried to push him away but he won't budge. Jaehyun, slips his thumb just above the exposed skin on your hips, rubbing small circles that got you moaning “If you haven’t noticed, I’m actually crazy for you right now.” He says under his breath and you felt warm all over. Jaehyun has his brows furrowed, his expression as if he was hurting all over the place, and you laugh at him. “Fine, I’ll spend the night here.” You hear yourself saying and Jaehyun only pulled you closer for a hug.

When the night ended, Jaehyun tells the guys that he’ll be the one to give you a ride and no one suspects it— agreeing to him and biding the two of you goodbye while the two of you cleaned up the living room. Moments after, you find yourself having second thoughts about staying the night with him. You know this will only lead to you on Jung Jaehyun’s bed. “Do you want to go home?” he asks you as if reading your mind, and you shook your head. “But can we go grab some late snacks? I’m kind of hungry.”

The both of you drove to McDonald's and ordered some take-outs, Jaehyun drove to a good spot and parked his car, handing you your orders after putting on some good music— fit for the atmosphere. “Ohhh, this is actually good, huh.” You say while smiling at him. Jaehyun put your drinks in the cupholder between the both of you and handed you some tissues after. The warm feelings are back and you hate to admit that he gives you butterflies in your stomach.

“I mean, this could be our thing, y/m.”

You didn’t comment on that. Digging into your burger as a distraction to the strange sensation that you kept on feeling. You were quietly eating your food while having mixed feelings about him. you know this familiar feeling— you’re not stupid enough not to know your catching feelings and that you’re starting to fall in love again.

When you finished up, you turn your body towards Jaehyun, deciding to confess, it’s better to be turned down than to keep on catching feelings for someone who isn’t going to return it at all. It’s not like you to be so brave, in the past, you always wait and that was the problem. You wait until the opportunity slides away from your fingers— from you. Deciding to risk everything this time, you braced yourself for the rejection.

“Jaehyun.” You started and he turns his head towards you. “You know, I like you, right?” you continued. “You’re not stupid and you know there is something going on with the both of us.” Silence feels inside his car to the point it got so thick you can even cut it with a knife. “I may sound like a bitch but you have to choose between me and her.”

“Remember when I told you on your birthday that my relationship with her is complicated?” you nodded your head. “I wasn’t lying about it. We’ve known each other for a while and it’s been eight months that time when I wanted to take our relationship to another level.” Hearing him talk about some other girl and the fact he wanted to make their relationship official hurts you in so many ways possible. You find yourself nodding at him as you ignore the lump in your throat. “But she won’t even admit that she likes me, not even one “Thank you” for all the effort I’ve given her, I understand that saying she loves me is a different level, it’s an understatement, but you know, I’m just someone who also needed affections. I don’t understand her for being so high maintenance.”

“I actually talked with her personally this morning.” He continued. “Was that the reason why you’re absent?” you asked mad over the fact that he was absent for some uncalled reason. “Okay, let me finish before you get mad at me, baby.” You hate how endearing that sounded but you let him talk anyways. “I told her, I was done waiting and that I was sorry that I didn’t keep my promise.”

“You actually courted her?” you asked and he nods. “Yeah, she is high maintenance and stupid.”

“And you know what she replied? She says that she’ll say yes to me if that will make me stay or shut my trap, even, you know how the thought of actually agreeing to that one person to be together was gone just for the benefit of the doubt? She should have said yes from the beginning, I don’t have issues with waiting, I waited for almost a year, I know I can do it again, but not like this.” He moves his hands in the air just to set his point. “Was it my fault that I fell out of love?” He asks you and you turn your head away from him, guilty with the fact you are the reason he fell out of love with her. “Y/n, just give me time, I don’t even need that much.” He says and you nod your head.

When both of you got back to Jaehyun’s flat, it was already midnight, Jaehyun handed you his white clean shirt and boxer shorts to change in to. Giving you some privacy that you needed while he brushes his teeth downstairs. So many things have been running through your mind for the past hour, Jaehyun didn’t turn you down but he didn’t say that he likes you back, either. So where do you stand in his life? You should have gone home; you didn’t want the same mistakes you did in the past to be repeated, but you were tired of waiting and beating around the bush.

Confessing to Jung Jaehyun that you liked him first made you feel naked around him, having your feelings out in the open. When Jaehyun walked in you were still dazed, thousand of thoughts running through your mind. This wasn’t the first time that you’ve to spend the night with him having sleepovers at Johnny’s or the others but this was definitely your first time spending the night with him.

It wasn’t an issue for you to sleep beside him since you already confessed, anyway. And in no time, you slip off to dreamland instantly, shocked at how comfortable you are with having his arms around you as you drifted off to dreamland.

You stir in your sleep when you felt Jaehyun’s hands all over your upper body as he peppers your neck with wet kisses. you fight the sleepiness and look at his nightstand to see that it’s only been two hours when you drifted off to sleep. “Jae, It’s only three in the morning. Can’t you do this later?” you asked as you fight the sleep in your eyes. You felt Jaehyun’s hands hover around your left mound, squeezing it slightly and you look at him fully. “You agree on doing this later?” he asks out of breath.

“You expect me to fall asleep when you’re on my bed in my clothes?” he whispered in your ear and you moan when his fingers slip in your undies— rubbing circles in your clit. “Already this wet?” Jaehyun continued his ministration on you, adding another finger inside you while he kisses you on the lips. You felt him retract his fingers away and you were about to protest when you felt him lift your shirt just below your chin, your mounds completely in view and ready to be played with. His hands went back on your thighs as he separated your left leg from the other, urging you to open your legs more. His fingers are back on your clit, drawing small circles that made you clenching on nothing. Jaehyun frowned when he felt your walls incredibly tight when he inserted two fingers at a time. “Baby, so fucking tight.”

Jaehyun throws his shirt over his head and helped you undress, completely impatient, and you tried palming him just to get a reaction. You heard him grunt lowly, shocked at how big he is when Jaehyun got rid of all the clothing. “That won’t fit on me.”

“Where’s your casual bravado at?” he asks as he pulls you to his lap. You look anywhere but him as your cheeks started to flush. “Don’t tell me— are you a virgin?” you nod your head at him as you felt his cock stood out more to the revelation. “Fuck, well take it slow, baby.” Jaehyun guided you to his lap as you ride him, moving your hips as you coat his dick with your juices. You have your bottom lip trap between your teeth as you let his dick slide in your pussy’s lips. Feeling embarrassed but desperate you tried to push yourself back to meet his hips as you whine with the newfound sensations. You look so lewd above him riding his cock as your tits bounce from your movements, your eyes start to water from the thrill Jaehyun gives you. “I need to hear you.” Jaehyun pushes the messy strands of hair that frames your face.

You moan at the feeling of his veiny cock sliding in between your pussy’s lips. He hums, pleased with your sounds around him, and rewards you by inserting his fingers all the way inside you, the numbers doing wonders and stinging you a bit, but it still felt better than having to clench at nothing. Jaehyun marks you up all over your neck and just above your mounds, flesh to flesh as you moan for him. He pumps his fingers in and out of you as you ride his cock continuously. He gathers you in his arms and lays you on your back, pulling your thighs against your chest, keeping your legs spread as he pushes inside you slowly, grunting. “I wasn’t planning on putting it inside, but you just feel so fucking good.”

You cried at the stretch, slowly tearing you apart as he moves inch by inch just to be inside you fully. When he’s all the way inside of you, his breath leaves him in a shaky sigh, and he takes a couple of moments for the both of you before he started moving. You know Jaehyun was holding back, as he focusses on your breast as they bounce up and down in a humiliating manner as he pushes into you slowly for his liking, while his hands keep your legs spread wide for him, you felt embarrassed and humiliated with the way you’re positioned under him, but you can’t help every moan that escapes you as it started to feel amazing more than a while ago. The sting you felt was gone and all you can think is the pleasure that he gives you.

“Fuck, you’re tightening up.” You turn your head to the side, trying to bury your face in the pillows around you as you hide your face from him, but Jaehyun doesn’t allow it, he bends down— his upper body draped over you, his face mere inched from yours, the new positions has his right hand pulling your right leg further upwards, thigh pressing harder against your chest. “Say it, baby. I need to hear you.” His gaze pierces through you, ordering more than asking you to obey him, and you find him looking sexier as he looks even as his skin glistens and how some strands of his hair started to stick over his forehead.

Docilely and submissive, you answered him. “I- I want to cum, please.” You sounded so lewd; you didn’t even recognize yourself anymore. His gaze doesn’t free yours as his hips started to pick up the pace. “Do you know how hot you look right now? Spread out on my bed with nothing but my cock in you? fuck, fuck.” You started clenching around him as he put his thumb on your clit, drawing circles as you cry out his name in ecstasy.

He fucks you through your orgasm, grunting as your walls get even tighter, making it harder for him to keep on moving inside of you but that made him ravish you more with fervor. Your orgasm feels like it will never end as he drags it out in order to reach his own high, finally, his hips stutter as he pulls out of you and pumps his dick more as he comes in your stomach and breasts.

When he was done, he moves away from you and walks to the bathroom, you heard the faucet running and Jaehyun came out with a wet, warm towel in his hands and uses it to clean up the mess the two of you made. When he’s done, he tosses it to the side and scoops you in his arms, covering both of your naked bodies with his blanket that smells like him. He had you trap in his arms and sure it felt good to be treated like this, the feeling new to you.

“Sleep, let’s not think about what happened for now.” He murmured and you agree. “I’m sorry.” You heard him say. You look up at him and see different emotions flickers in his eyes. “Honestly, I’ve seen this coming, I’m not usually like this but I always find myself fucking my rules just to be with you.” Jaehyun pulls you closer to him. “That’s because you liked me.” He told you before you drifted off to sleep for the second time.

The next morning, Jaehyun give you a ride home, you— being awfully quiet after realizing everything that happened when you saw the bloodstains in his bedsheets that morning. You didn’t utter a word throughout the ride, reality downing to you one by one. Did you just sleep with a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend in the first place? When you got in the comforts of your home you smack your head for the stupidity. You knew how boys can be, and you just give Jaehyun the chance to have his way with you easily without a fight.

When a day passed by without seeing even a shadow of Jaehyun, you sent him a message asking what was he doing. You waited for hours but you didn’t get a reply from him that day. You’ve been overthinking things and didn’t have the energy to be productive at all, you tried calling him but he wasn’t answering at all. The next day came and you checked your phone for any notification from him but there was none, you were about to get up when you heard a car honking in front of your house— you walk towards your window and there, you saw Jung Jaehyun, standing beside his car in your front yard, smiling up at you with his hands tucked inside his jean’s pockets. You ignore the raging butterflies in your stomach and hide the blush creeping in your cheeks with your hair as you give him a bashful smile in return.

When you came down after washing up and getting ready for school, you kissed your mom goodbye saying you’re skipping breakfast and will just eat out in the café next to the University. You run to Jaehyun, his arms open and ready to catch you in his arms— and you embrace him. “Haven’t heard from you yesterday.” You push your self a little away from him to see a smile playing at his lips. “I miss you too.” He answered and for some reason, cat got your tongue.

“It’s still early, do you want to eat out?” Jaehyun asked you when you both settle down inside his car and you nod your head after checking your wristwatch, you still have two hours to kill before your classes start, it’s Tuesday, so the both of you are packed up with your chef’s uniforms in your bags.

“I hate cooking.” You tell no one in particular as Jaehyun started to drive away, “But you’re the top in our department.” you only give him a glance as you relax your body.

When you arrived at the café next to your University, it was still spacious as it was still early, most of the time students would fill the room up, studying or just talking with their peers. You both settle down on the booth next to the window— Jaehyun, ever the gentlemen ordering and buying you your food. “Jaehyun, I really appreciate you spending your money on me, but next time let me pay for my own food.” You say when he came back with a tray of pastries and coffees in his hands. “Why?” he asked.

“Because it’s your money, and we’re still students you know, we shouldn’t spend recklessly.” Jaehyun was bewildered by what you said and it was clearly written on his face. “Why?” you asked scared that you might say something wrong. “It’s just that, I was used to spending money for her even if I get to eat nothing as long as she gets hers.” He says. You felt horrified after hearing that. “No way, if you ran out of money, you say it and I’m going to pay for us, all right?”

“You sure you haven’t been in relationships?” there was a bashful smile playing at Jaehyun’s face, “No, it’s called basic manners, Jung Jaehyun.” You laughed at him. “So, I haven’t heard from you at all yesterday.” You watched as Jaehyun sipped at his iced americano— nodding at you as if you’ve stated the obvious.

“I ended everything with her, what she said doesn’t really sit on me right. I didn’t take her to be that hypocrite in the first place.” Jaehyun started. So, he was with her last night, you think, but not in the way that you think, he meets with her to cut and finish everything between them. “I just hate that every time we fought, she would always turn the tables around, guilt tripping me so I can admit that I’m wrong when she also has her mistakes in the first place. Don’t think that this happened because of you, it started happening before you even came, I don’t want you to beat yourself thinking that you ruined my relationship with her, because in the first place there’s no relationship between us.” You nod your head and all you can do is listen.

“Do you regret everything that has been happening?” you asked as you hear your heart beating rapidly inside your chest, you look at him and he did the same. “No. You happened unexpectedly, but no, I don’t regret you.” you fought the tears away, feeling the warmth and comfort inside, this has never happened to you, someone choosing you over anything, and you can’t help but tear up.

“Why are you crying? It’s not me who’s choosing you but you’re the one who is choosing me. If you haven’t noticed a lot of guys wants to be with you, so I’m really grateful that you liked me instead.” Jaehyun wiped the tears that threatening to fall down your check and pulling you close in his arms after. You put your head in his arms, everything feels surreal and if ever you are dreaming you don’t want to wake up anymore. “I really like you,Y/n.” you look up to him laughing as you cry harder, all this baggage and walls gone because of one person.

That was the start of your relationship with Jung Jaehyun, all those crazy days and nights with him, long drives and Friday nights, eating and pigging out with him, he knows you more than the back of his hands, he knows that you get moody every month, he knew about your introverted ass, he knows that you can be basic and simple at times— you don’t expect too much of him and he does the same with you, on your first year of being together, you introduced Jaehyun to your whole family on your reunion day and they instantly love him— specially your brother and cousins. They enjoyed talking to him, and you’re honestly surprised at how welcoming you parents are to him, asking him to sleep over, Jaehyun and your brother having the same interest, playing computer games until the sun rises, His mother sending a box full of apples to your mother because he mentions that it’s your mom’s favorite.

Sometimes you get scared of breaking up with him, fighting isn’t something that the both of you can avoid, there are times the you just want to strangle him to death, but that makes everything real, being jealous and having make up sex, all those time the both of you fight for something trivial, those moments make your relationship stronger. And now you’ve been with him for the past 4 years, going steady and strong.

“Babe, you ready?” you both settle down on his car, you just finish your final exams for this week, you and Jaehyun are up for a 2 hour long drive to get to your vacation house, most of your family are already there since this morning and the both of you have to finish your exams and classes first before joining them, you nod your head at him as he pull his jacket over his head and handing it you. Jaehyun knows that you get easily cold but you don’t want to turn the heater up and make him suffer as he tends to sweat a lot, that leads you to having his hoodies stack up in your closet.

“You have to cut your smoking off you know it’s not good for your health.” You say as you saw him scratch the back of his neck, a freshly lit stick in his mouth, when the both of you started going out you have seen him smoke a couple of times to the point that it got you curious and tried it, you have been smoking in the past but you cut it off as it was unhealthy. Jaehyun on the other hand finds it hard. “old habits die hard.” He told you once.

“You got to compromise, baby.” Jaehyun blew the smoke outside— his window rolled down and one hand on the stirring wheel, you got to admit though, your boyfriend looked hot. “Fine, what do you suggest?”

“Marry me after we graduate.” Your head snap back to look at him, as you waited for him to laugh and say that he was joking. Jaehyun throw the cigar outside reaching for the rubbing alcohol to clean his hands, you tend to hate the smell that clings to his hands whenever he smokes. You were awfully quiet, shocked at what he said, and you found yourself caught in your thoughts.

“If you promise to be with me forever, until the day that our hair turns white, then I promise to cut my smoking off.” He smiled at you, reaching for your hands that was placed in your lap as he pulls it closer to his mouth to give it some kisses. You can’t really say anything as tears started to fall one by one, you we’re just so happy that he thinks of being together with you for that long. “I know I’ve done so many things that disappoints you, but you still choose to be with me, and for that, I’m really grateful. So, I’m asking you this right now, I know we still have to graduate and we still have a long way ahead of us. And I would still have to buy you the most beautiful ring in the world. What I can give you right know is my hopeful words— promising you that I would be faithful and love you until the end, so are you going to say yes?” he asks while holding your hand.

“Yes.” the both of you laughed at the situation as you reach out to kiss him in the cheeks. “Babe! Stay seated or will get into an accident” he shouts but laughs with you.

You definitely don’t regret falling in love with Jung Jaehyun.

Fin

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun smut #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #NCTU #nct127 #nctdream #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #jaehyun college smut #wayv #nct2020 #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #nct agnst #nct fluff

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fangirling-is-my-passion · 3 years

Text

*Salted Caramel*(Steve Rogers x Platonic!Reader)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and a very, very complicated parents-child relationship (I don’t know how to write warnings, I’m so sorry).

Summary: You have an anxiety attack one day and the First Avenger comes to the rescue. In a fatherly way, just to clarify, hehe.

A/N: Eeehh, I have no clue if any of this makes any sense, haha, but I’m not gonna lie, I wrote the fic I desperately needed, so anyways I hope you enjoy it, my lovelies. Also, know that if you ever need anyone to talk to, my dms are always open. :)

You were the newest member of the Avengers and, although you’d only been part of the team for a couple of months, everybody had welcomed you with open arms. Nonetheless, you didn’t have as much opportunity to interact with them as you would’ve wished to, since you, not only being the newest member but also the youngest, still lived with your parents. Everybody had agreed that that was fine as long as you attended training sessions at the compound three times a week, which your parents agreed to. And now, even though you’d celebrated your 18th birthday a week ago, your living situation hadn’t changed much. At least not so far.

In spite of it all, the team had quickly embraced your presence in their lives and you felt more comfortable and at home with them than you’d ever felt with any of your relatives, including your parents. As a matter of fact, you didn’t really feel at home with your parents at all. Due to some issues from the past that had had its peak only a few months ago, the effect in the present was that your trust in them had broken completely and, even though you’d tried to fix the relationship several times along the years, the truth was that your parents kept letting you down constantly, making the damage irreparable by now.

This had taken a toll on your mental health and your anxiety had worsened a lot lately, nevertheless, telling your parents about it was obviously out of the question, and you didn’t want to bother the group of superheroes with such insignificant problems like yours. The world was in their hands, and in yours now too, you couldn’t make so much fuss about something like that.

Until the day you reached your breaking point.

Which sounds very dramatic, yet if you thought about it too much, you’d been through a lot worse before.

The circumstances and its specific details are irrelevant, the point is that, while you and your mother were having lunch, you had quite an intense anxiety attack. The kind you hadn’t had in a considerable amount of time.

Your hands started sweating, your heart began pounding inside your chest, making you feel like it could burst out of your ribcage at any given moment. Your breathing became shallow and quick, your lungs always asking for more air to breathe in, and a weird sensation that felt very much like losing ground and any sort of control over your life and yourself invaded you. At one point you even thought you’d pass out, but fortunately you didn’t.

You had to get out of there, fast.

So you told your mother that oh, crap, you’d just now remembered that you had a training session with the Avengers that afternoon, so you really had to get going. And without another word, not even waiting for a response from her, you took your phone and nothing more, and exited the house.

Once outside you walked aimlessly, trying to get as much air into your lungs as you could in an attempt to calm down. A million thoughts were rushing through your head, making you feel slightly dizzy, but you tried with all your might to concentrate on your inhalations and exhalations. After several minutes, you started feeling the tension in your whole body loosen up a bit, your breathing becoming steadier and your train of thoughts no longer on the verge of crashing. However, you still felt the urgent need to talk to somebody. Yes, the last thing you wanted to do was bother any of the earth's mightiest heroes with your problems, but this really seemed to be the last straw for you.

Therefore, you unlocked your phone and called the first person you could think of.

“(Y/N)?” Steve Rogers’ voice called from the other side of the line.

“Uh… Hi.” you said hesitantly, with a remaining shakiness in your voice that certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Steve.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asked preoccupied, and you could almost picture the expression on his face: the furrowed brows, the worry reflecting in his blue eyes.

“I, um, I’m… I’m fine, I just… I just needed to talk to someone. I’m sorry, I shouldn't be bothering you with this.”

“No, no, you’re not bothering at all. What happened? Where are you, at your house?”

“Umm, no, not exactly, I’m… I’m a couple of blocks away, but…”

“Oh, okay. Do you want me to go there, or maybe meet somewhere, so we can talk?”

“I-,” tears started gathering in your eyes, making everything around you blurry, but you weren’t exactly crying out of sadness, “I don’t want to be a burden, really, I’m so sorry, I just wanted to hear your voice…” you mumbled, your voice cracking.

“(Y/N), you’re not a burden. Whatever happened, if it’s important to you then it’s important to me, okay? We can talk. Just tell me where and I’ll be on my way.”

“Why are you being so nice to me? You barely know me…,” you sniffled, tears rolling down your cheeks now, a sign of how moved you were by Steve’s kindness. He didn’t have to do all that, leave the compound to go meet with you somewhere, to listen to a problem that had nothing to do with him, but he was willing to do it nonetheless.

“Because I care for you. Even if you haven’t been part of the team for as long as the rest of us, you are family now. And families are always there for each other,” he stated softly but with determination.

“Thank you…,” you whispered, feeling like not all the thank you’s in the world could express how grateful you were to the man. “Um, well, there’s… There’s a small coffee shop relatively near here, I guess we could… we could meet there… if it isn’t much trouble,” you added.

“Sounds good. Can you send me the address?”

“Sure.”

“And text me when you get there, all right?”

“Yeah, I… I will. Thank you, Steve. Really.”

“Don’t worry about it, kiddo.” You smiled to yourself, feeling another wave of tears coming up. “And, hey,” he added, “it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

_________________________

Minutes later, you were at the coffee shop, sitting at a small table for two by the window. It was a lovely place you’d discovered at the beginning of the year, one day you were wandering aimlessly around your neighbourhood. The food was quite tasty in general, and both the place and the people who worked there gave off a very warm and cosy vibe, the type you only feel during Christmas, sitting in front of the fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa in your hands.

You’d already texted Steve to let him know you’d arrived, and now all you had to do was wait for him to get there. According to him, he was just about to.

And it was true, because a moment later you saw the tall, blond-haired man enter the establishment and search for you with his eyes. He finally spotted you, and you were able to notice, even from a distance, how his expression softened, while he made his way towards you.

“Hey,” you muttered standing up, still ashamed that you’d made the superhero travel all the way there for such a mundane reason.

“Hey,” he greeted you back with a soft smile, before sitting down on his chair, prompting you to do the same, “so… What happened, kiddo?”

You sighed. “Well, I just… I, um… may or may not have had… um, an anxiety attack…,” you could feel your face heating up due to the embarrassment you felt by admitting it to somebody else. An anxiety attack. Pfff. It felt so absurd now, making such a big deal out of it when there were clearly more important things…

“An anxiety attack?” Steve asked, tilting his head to one side in that particular way of his. His ocean eyes were overflowing with kindness, and that single-handedly was more than enough to make you want to cry again. Your heart was definitely not used to such a level of sympathy.

“Yeah…,” you breathed, your eyes starting to water up once more.

“Does it happen to you very often?”

“Umm, not exactly, I don’t know… It’s… It’s been happening with more frequency lately, but… I-I don’t know, it’s… it’s complicated. I mean,” you sighed again, “I’ve… I’ve lived my whole life... with anxiety and, well, I know there isn’t an actual cure for it, but I’ve… I’ve learnt to handle it, more or less, it’s just…”

At that moment, a waiter walked up to your table and asked if you wanted to order anything. You wiped the few tears that had escaped your eyes as discreetly as you could, hoping the waiter wouldn’t notice anything. As a matter of fact, you were embarrassed by letting yourself cry in front of Steve too, but at this point you couldn’t really help it. The superhero looked at you inquiringly.

“Have you eaten already? Do you want anything?”

“Um, yeah... yeah, I have… Uh… no, I don’t know... if you want anything… I can tell you that the salted caramel frappe is really good,” you offered him a small smile.

“Is that so?” He smiled too. “Well… I’ll have one if you have one. If that’s okay.”

You chuckled lightly. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

“All right then, two... salted caramel frappes? Please.”

“Sure,” the waiter wrote it down on his notepad and gave you both a warm smile, “I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you,” you and Steve said in unison.

“So,” he began, “you said your anxiety attacks have been happening more frequently lately. What do you mean lately? Is there a specific reason? Is it because of the Avengers?”

“What? No, no, not at all, you’re actually kind of my escape from everything… Umm, it’s complicated…,” you let out another sigh and proceeded to explain the situation to Steve, at first hesitantly, but after a while you were capable of talking a bit more freely.

You told him about your parents, about how you no longer felt at home in your own house and how the trust you ever had on your mother and father had been broken. How the comfort they were supposed to provide you was long gone and, in spite of your past efforts, it always ended unfavourably. It wasn’t easy, not in the slightest, nevertheless, as you kept talking, you could feel a heaviness being lifted from your shoulders, one that you didn’t even know was there in the first place. And, yes, the possibility of things ending badly even now was still there, but Steve’s expression, his whole energy made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t felt for way too long. So you might as well give it a try and get this off your chest once and for all.

Not long after you started talking did your beverages arrive and you both thanked the waiter before you continued.

He listened to you attentively. Never interrupted you, waited patiently for you to go on every single time you paused to take a breath or sigh or calm yourself down, never pushing you to keep talking. His furrowed brow reflected his worry for you, but it was in an understanding and serene way. He was glad you were finally telling all this to somebody and felt honoured that from all people you’d trusted him. He was perfectly aware that you were opening up to him and the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel like your emotions were invalid or unimportant. So he kept listening until you finished, and then waited a few seconds more, letting you sip on your frappe, before he spoke.

“I gotta ask, is that the reason why you go to the compound more than the necessary three times a week?”

Touché. You’d been constantly lying to your parents, telling them you had training sessions almost daily, or making random yet believable excuses so you could get out of your house and spend more time with the people who actually made you feel good.

You simply nodded to confirm Steve’s suspicions.

“It’s okay, (Y/N), I understand, I really do. Families can be tough sometimes, and people may disagree with what I’m about to say, but you don’t really owe your parents anything, especially after the way they’ve made you feel. It might sound like a bold stance, particularly for someone as old-fashioned as me, but as the saying goes “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb”. You’re not obliged to like your parents, let alone if they have had abusive conducts towards you. Now, in addition to that, it doesn’t have to be a greek tragedy for it to be valid. If something makes you feel bad or uncomfortable in any way, if it hurts you, then it does and that’s it. Other’s don’t get to say whether they hurt you or not, only you do,” he made a pause, pondering what to say next, ”Maybe someday your relationship with your parents can be rescued, or maybe not. Both things are fine, as long as it’s what makes you feel better. For now, however, I think we should find a quick and satisfactory solution to the problem, so why don’t you come live in the compound with all of us? You’re an adult now, you don’t need your parents’ permission,” the blue-eyed man offered you a sweet lopsided smile full of warmth, a tiny hint of fear that went unnoticed by you sparkling in his eyes, since he wasn’t sure of what impact his words had had on you. He was hoping he’d said the right thing, but he was terrified of the possibility that he’d screwed up.

Nevertheless, his fear couldn’t be further from the truth. Steve’s speech had reassured you profoundly, reinforcing that sense of safety of yours that had already started to develop around him and the rest of the Avengers. You lacked words to express how grateful you were towards him, but this man would always have your eternal gratitude. Needless to say, tears were streaming down your cheeks as quietly as you could keep them, your heart overwhelmed by the tenderness and the understanding he was offering you.

“I-,” you began, but your sobs became too much for you to contain and you broke down crying. Still, you tried to articulate your thoughts as best you could,” I’m sorry, it’s just… nobody had ever been so understanding with me and… and had ever comforted me so much in my life… you’re being so kind to me I… I honestly can’t thank you enough… I don’t even know what to say, I’m so sorry, I’m so lame...”

“You’re not,” Steve assured you softly, placing his hand over the one you had on the table. How were you supposed to stop crying if everything he did filled you with a sensation of comfort you’d lost a long time ago?

“Thank you,” you sniffled, wiping your tears clumsily with your free hand, “Thank you. And… yeah, I’d… I’d absolutely love to live with all of you at the compound. But will it be okay for everybody?”

“Of course! I told you, you’re part of the family now. We would all love to have you there with us, kiddo. We simply have to tell Tony, he’s the one in charge of that sort of stuff. And, of course, let your parents know. If you want, we can go to the compound right now and tell him. I’ll be there with you if you need me to. Both with Tony and with your parents.” Steve gave you a loving smile. His heart felt so relieved now knowing that his words hadn’t been a mistake.

“Okay, yeah… That… That would be nice. I told my mother I had a training session, so she won’t expect me to be back until later.”

“All right then, perfect,” he said, before taking another sip of his frappe, which had been reduced by half by now. Yours was almost untouched, but only because you’d been too busy speaking. Or crying. Or both. “By the way,” he added, “you were right, this thing is really good.”

You giggled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Steve motioned the waiter to ask for the bill and once it was paid (he of course didn’t let you pay for your drink no matter how much you insisted), you both stood up from your seats, grabbing the remains of your frappes.

“Steve,” you called, making him turn back to look at you attentively once again, “thank you. So, so much. For everything,” you expressed with as much sentiment and gratitude as you were capable of. He was definitely the best man you’d ever met in your life. And that was saying something, having in mind that you’d met all the Avengers.

“Come here,” Steve said with a smile, his arms open, asking for a hug. You did as you were told, a wide smile now plastered on your lovely face. Yeah, it was a bit swollen from the crying, but it was still lovely.

To be honest, all you wanted to do at that moment was to keep hugging him and never ever let go; nonetheless, you knew that wasn't possible and eventually you'd have to break the hug. So for now, you breathed deeply, inhaling Steve’s scent (he smelled like bar soap and clean laundry, with a small touch of cinnamon), and you let yourself enjoy every second of that warm and strong embrace, and its newly found feeling of home.

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bex-la-get · 3 years

Note

hello! can I request a fic where Nat noticed that Ethan is tired because of his new job as Chief, and she decided to do something to make his day brighter (or maybe she took care of him when they got home). I love your writings! ❤️

Nonny, I'm crying! This is so cute! Consider it done! (Also, I love you and I hope you're having a wonderful day! 😘)

Rating: T

Ethan looked tired.

Sure, he'd had exhausting days at work before but this was a new kind of tired. Almost exhausted. His shoulders held more tension, his temper was shorter than normal, and on several occasions, he'd come home and told Nat he'd make dinner, only to fall asleep on the sofa a few minutes later.

Natalie knew Ethan's job as Chief was going to be a lot for him but she didn't anticipate how hard the adjustment would hit him. And poor Ethan, so used to carrying everything on his own, anytime she asked how he was doing or if she could help, he always shook his head and told her he was fine; even when he clearly wasn't.

So, enough was enough. Both Ethan and Nat had this coming weekend off and she was going to make the best of it. Enlisting Sienna and Dani's help, she planned out the most relaxing weekend possible, doing all of the grocery shopping and chores she could possibly do before Friday night. Though she was now Head of the DT, her hours were significantly less demanding than Ethan's which allowed her to do all of these preparations right under his nose.

Come Friday, the apartment was ready for a completely relaxing and errand/chore-free weekend. Sienna had helped bake some goodies and Dani, bless her, had helped clean the apartment and cook several large meals that would last the couple several days at the least. Nat owed those two the biggest margaritas they'd ever had when this weekend was over.

At the end of her shift, Natalie made her way up to the Chief's office, determined to make him come home early. She found Ethan hunched over some paperwork at his desk, his shoulders so tense they were practically at his ears. "Baby," she said, walking into the room, "it's Friday night. Let's go home."

Ethan looked up and her heart tightened to see how red his eyes were. God, this poor man was going to work himself into burnout if he wasn't careful. Thank god she'd planned this weekend out for him to relax. "Hi, love," Ethan said, leaning back and stretching his neck out. "What time is it?"

"Time to go home," Nat answered.

Ethan looked at the clock on his computer and sighed. "It's only five, Nat; I still have at least another hour's worth of paperwork to do."

Natalie shook her head. "Not tonight. Paperwork can wait 'til Monday. Tonight, we're going home and we're gonna relax. You especially." Ethan opened his mouth to argue but Nat cut him off with a firm kiss to his lips. When she pulled away, she was leaning over him, her hands resting on the armrests of his chair as she looked him in his eyes. "Do you have any idea how long its been since you last kissed me?"

He thought for a moment but shook his head, unable to answer. "Eight hours," she told him.

"What? That can't be right." He shook his head in disbelief.

"It is," she confirmed. "You have not kissed me since you dropped me off at the DT office this morning at 9am. So, you have a lot of kisses to make up to me. And you're going to do it at home." She kissed him again for emphasis.

He chuckled dryly. "I should know better than to try an win an argument against you," he mused. "But you're right; it's an absolute tragedy that I haven't kissed you enough today so I agree. Let's get out of here and I'll make up for all the kisses I missed."

Natalie smiled and stood up straight, extending her hand out to him. "Shall we go home, Dr. Ramsey?"

He took her hand in his and squeezed. "We shall, Dr. Cusack."

-------------------------

When they arrived home, the apartment looked and smelled amazing. A plate of Sienna's freshly baked cookies sat on the kitchen counter next to several serving dishes of food, courtesy of Dani. Nat made a mental note to herself that she owed those two several margaritas as a thank you.

Ethan looked around the apartment in awe, trying to figure out if they had walked into the wrong place. "What happened? This place hasn't been this clean in months."

Natalie laughed. "I may or may not have been planning this weekend for a while now. I enlisted Dani and Sienna's help and the three of us completely cleaned this place from top to bottom. Groceries are also taken care of, as is dinner and dessert, courtesy of the two best friends in the entire world," she gestured to the plates of food on the kitchen counter. "All you have to do is relax."

"Nat, I--" Ethan looked at her, speechless. "I don't know what to say. This was so thoughtful. Thank you."

She leaned up and kissed him softly, smiling when she pulled away. "Anything for you, my love. Now, go get comfy. I'll heat up dinner."

Ethan moved into the bedroom to change clothes while Nat turned on the oven and popped the serving dishes inside it. As she waited for the food to heat up, she grabbed a couple wine glasses and poured a bottle of Merlot into them. She was recorking the bottle when she felt two hands settle onto her waist and a pair of lips kiss her neck. "You didn't have to do all this, you know," Ethan murmured.

"Of course, I did," Nat said, turning around and securing her arms behind his neck. "You've been working so hard, you deserve a break. And we both have the weekend off so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to take a break." She ran her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. "You don't need to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders, my love. You're allowed to take it easy."

He sighed. "I know; I just... I don't want people thinking I'm not capable of doing the job. My predecessors are Harper and Naveen; both of whom are proper administrators. I've never been one for admin, you know that."

"Which is why you're so good for the job," Nat reasoned. "You don't look at things from an administrator's perspective; you look at them from a doctor's. A diagnostician's, if we're being picky. You know what it's like to be in the field with other doctors, putting patient care above everything else. Some administrators never get that kind of experience. You care about your patients and fellow doctors, which makes you the best kind of administrator. Don't worry about trying to be like Harper or Naveen; you just focus on being you. We will all be better for it."

He smiled and nodded. "I suppose I hadn't thought of it that way; thank you."

"You're welcome." She rested a hand over his chest, his pulse thumping beneath her fingers. "Just promise to take it easy, okay? If you keep going at your current rate, you're going to burn out."

"You're right; I've just been so focused on trying to do this right. But I can't do my job if I work myself into a tizzy. I'll take it easier from here on out, I promise." He leaned down and kissed her softly. "Thank you. For putting all of this together, for taking care of me, and for just being you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Nor I, you, my love," she said, resting her forehead against his. "I'll always be here to take care of you."

They held each other for a long moment, neither saying anything, just enjoying one another's company. When they finally broke apart, Nat pulled the warmed up food out of the oven and the two served themselves before plopping down onto the couch and turned on one of Ethan's favorite films, an old black-and-white one.

The conversation flowed easily between the two as did the wine. By the time the movie had ended, the couple had eaten more than their fill of dinner and dessert and were now cuddling on the sofa, Ethan wrapped tightly in Nat's arms, his head tucked under her chin as her fingers ran up and down his back. "Want to watch another one?"

"Hmm," he hummed. "You choose this time."

"You sure?" she asked. "'Cause I will 100% put on Pride & Prejudice if you give me control over the remote."

He chuckled and it was then that she realized his eyes were closed. "Whatever you want, love. I'm good. Just no drooling over Matthew Macfayden."

She smiled. "I make no promises, my love." Ethan simply hummed in response.

Turning on the film, Nat continued to run her fingers along Ethan's back, feeling his body relax under her ministrations. The movie had barely started when she heard his breathing even out and he fell asleep, tucked in her embrace. Natalie smiled and kissed the top of his head. "Rest easy, my love."

A/N: Hope you liked it, Nonny! 💙

#bexwritesstuff #bex answers #asked and answered #anonymous asks #anonymous prompts #ethan ramsey #natalie cusack #ethan x natalie #ethan x mc #open heart mc #open heart fics

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harryskalechips · 4 years

Text

Illicit affairs Part two

A/N Hi here is part two!!! I’m sorry for it being so delayed I’ve been busy taking care of my new sick puppy. I hope you enjoy this one! Please show some love and send me your thoughts hahaha enjoy ❤︎

Y/N and Harry decide to end their affair and she thought it would be okay since her internship was ending. Too bad she was offered a permanent job and she took it.

Tw: Cheating, smut

Thank you @harrysleftchelseaboot for letting me participate in your writing challenge! Here is my part two! Any new writers or readers please check out the masterlist! So many cool stories written from prompts!

here are my prompts:

“Letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“Do you think soulmates are real?”

“I still love you. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Even if you don’t love me back, and even if we both move on, there will always be a part of me that will always love you no matter what.”

“Your hands look so cold.”

Note: I do not condone cheating whatsoever! Please mind that this story is fictional! As much as it makes me sad to paint Harry as a cheater, it’s part of this storyline I thought of as I listened to Taylor’s album, Folklore.

Word count: 8.6k / Masterlist // Part 1

It’s been three months since Y/N accepted her job in marketing for Columbia Records. It wasn’t too bad. Matter of fact, it’s been the only thing that has been distracting her since her breakup last year. She got her own office and had a bit of privacy too. Luckily, she was no longer sorting papers on a tiny desk in the middle of the hallway nor was she on coffee runs every morning. The only thing that seemed to stick, however, was seeing Harry Styles.

When Rose, Rob’s assistant called her three years ago about the internship Y/N was ecstatic. Not only was this an opportunity to go celebrity sightseeing every day but this company gave people like her great opportunities and a great recommendation too. There was no possible way that she could turn down Rob’s offer. She’s been dreaming of a career like this for years!

What truly sucked about her job at the moment, however, was the pop star, her marketing team was taking care of. Over these past months, not only was he able to ignore her presence, he became a bit of an ass too! Maybe that’s not even the right word to use…. He was being petty! That’s what Y/N thinks. To be honest, during the countless meetings they had over these past months Y/N would drain him out. As he spoke all she could do was repeat that word in her head as she mimicked his British accent. But can you blame her? They were together for a year and he constantly led her on. She fell in love with a married man who promised that he cared for her. She found herself compromising a lot of things in their relationship that she shouldn’t have needed too. Not only was she twisting her values for him, but she was also forced to take the second bits of him.

On her birthday, he arrived late at night because he and his wife had an interview with Vogue. He bought her a necklace and made love to her a countless amount of times but the next morning... he was gone.

there would be times, he wasn’t able to spend time with her since he was in London with his family. Yes, he video-called her and made sure to speak to her for a reasonable amount of time but he also went M.I.A for another two days.

The last example she could think of at the top of her head was when everyone had a date at their company’s charity ball. She had to witness Harry and his wife put on a show for the cameras. He looked at his wife as if she was his star and touched her like he’s been doing it for years. The whole night, he had his arm wrapped around her, constantly keeping her close. The only problem is in reality he’s been acting like that with Y/N -not her.

So yeah although she broke up with him -she was angry. Yes, she said they shouldn’t keep in touch but she thought she was leaving the company! Now, he’s acting as if he never spent a night at her place, fucking her. He’s been acting as if he never had a meal with her nor snuggled her on the couch. He’s cold and she hates him for that. Not only was this hurting her, but she also loved him! And for that...he’s cruel. She can’t even remember how many times she had to run to the washroom during work so she could cry in one of the stalls. Sometimes, she felt like he was purposely picking on her. Calling her out for her mistakes or for her lack of attention. She was new to everything and she was still learning. She just never thought the man she shared her bed and her secrets with would be so indifferent. That’s why she calls him petty.

“Y/N? I’m heading out. Want me to get you some food?” Marissa asks her as they sit in the boardroom with Harry. Their meeting ended a while ago but they decided to work through lunch since Mr. Celebrity wanted to fix a few things with them.

“No, I’m alright.” She looks up from her paper as she replies. She notices Harry in front of her leaning on the table as he hunches over flipping through a few papers.

“Are you sure?” Her co-worker frowns as she leans across the doorway. “You haven’t eaten yet?”

“Marissa, buy her some food.” Harry interrupts Y/N before she can speak up. He stands a bit straighter as he reaches down to grab his wallet. He pulls out a black card and gives it to the girl.

“Oh.” Marissa’s eyes widen as she stares at the card in her hand. “Would you like anything?”

“No, buy for yourself too. This one’s on me.” He nonchalantly replies as he goes back in his old position to read through the contracts.

Marissa was confused if she was being honest. She worked for Harry’s marketing team ever since he started going solo. She loved working for him because he was outgoing and respectful but for the past few months, he seemed to be too serious and a bit pissier. Maybe it had to be because of his wife? Little did she know it was because of the girl who was sitting a few feet from him.

When she left, Y/N choked. It wasn’t noticeable but she could feel her throat tightening. She has never been left in a room with him since their unbearable breakup. Funny enough, although the company celebrated her new job, Harry mindlessly ignored the event. He came to the party but he never congratulated her. So from that, Y/N knew he was far more than upset about their breakup. He was being salty.

“Y/N,” Harry speaks up as he walks towards her with the contracts in his hand. Y/N didn’t even want to look up. Was he speaking to her for the first time...again?

“Yeah?” She replies, trying not to make her wobbly voice sound apparent.

“What do you mean about this part of the contract?” Harry coldly asks as he puts the paper in front of her face.

“I’m not sure. Marissa wrote the contract. I worked with Yvonne on your merch shop.” Y/N replies in a monotone manner.

“How are you not sure? You didn’t even look at the paper.” She can almost hear a sigh under his breath. Y/N finally looks up and glares at him. She takes the sheet out of his hand and reads the new highlight from his pink pen.

“I don’t know, Harry.” She gives it back to him and continues to work on her list without saying another word. She didn’t want to look up again because she could already feel his eyes staring at her. He somehow always loved to do it. “Stop looking at me.” She blurts out. She and Harry weren’t expecting her to say that. He awkwardly coughs as he runs his hand through his hair. He walks back to his usual spot in the room and pretends as if nothing happened. In reality, however, his heart was racing. Although he was so pissed at her, she looked pretty today.

“Have you ever been on a date before?” Marissa asks Y/N as they walk out of her office together. Y/N wasn’t going to lie. She’s pretty lucky that she became close friends with Marissa. Now, they have a routine of picking each other up from their offices. It made her feel a bit less lonely since she sees her ex every day and he gives her nothing but a cold treatment. It’s a bit ironic how a few months back, her heart would flutter when he visited the building. Now, she sees him a bit too often for their liking.

“Yeah.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders and gives a funny look to her co-worker. “Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know you never talk about your love life. I always talk about my husband but I never heard anything coming from you. I know you like to have privacy but I was wondering.”

“It’s complicated.” She lets out a laugh. “I broke up with him two months ago.”

“Who was he?” Marissa smiles as her mouth opens in shock.

“A liar.”

“What did he do?”

“All men are the sam-”

“Have a good night, ladies.” A voice interrupts them. The women stop walking as they catch sight of Rob and Harry looking at the contracts they were previously working on earlier in the day. They sat on one of the many couches with many papers sprawled out onto the coffee table.

“Gosh Rob, you gave us a fright!” Marissa laughs. “Sill looking at those papers? Call me tomorrow if anything needs changing.” Marissa rolls her eyes as she smiles at them.

“Don’t worry.” Rob laughs. “Mr. Styles here is just going through the contracts with me one more time. You girls go home.”

“Alright, hope you and Harry have a good night too.” Y/N says nothing but waves as she follows Marissa to the elevator.

“Wait!” The familiar voice calls for them. Y/N and her co-worker turn around to see Harry still sitting on the couch looking at them. “Y/N, just because he lied to you. It doesn’t mean he wanted to lose you.”

You would think that Y/N repaired herself and became more comfortable working with her ex after that last encounter with him…. But no, wrong. In fact, she was dreading going into work today. How does this man ignore her for two months and then suddenly, he’s acknowledging her presence?

“You know what I find funny?” Marissa blurts out. Their marketing team had a conference room for themselves apart from the other room they were in yesterday. Yvonne and Jasmine look at her, waiting for her to reply while Y/N slouched in her chair out of distress. “Harry’s been a total ass to you ever since you got a job here.” She wasn’t lying, the whole office knew Harry was extra hard on her. “It got me thinking… why did he say that to you yesterday?”

“What did he say?” Yvonne gives a confused look to Y/N. Y/N just closes her eyes and turns her chair away from her colleagues and instead, to the wall.

“He said something like oh just because your ex-boyfriend lied to you, it doesn’t mean he wanted to lose you.” Marissa mimics his deep British voice. “Who on earth says that! And you guys barely speak to each other? How could he possibly know about him?”

“Wait a minute. Is he like siding with Y/N’s ex?” Jasmine’s eyes widen at the thought. “If her boyfriend lied then it is his fault!”“

Right I-” Before Marissa can continue. Y/N turns her chair towards them again and interrupts their juicy gossip.

“Guys!” Y/N calls them out. “It’s not a big problem. H-he has probably been in a relationship where he was in that position and he said that.” She tries to reason with her hands. “J-just let it go.”

“Oh shit, I forgot. Your breakup is still fresh.” Marissa covers her mouth in pity. And this is a reason why Y/N will never talk about her love life again.

“Excuse me, girls.” Rob knocks on the door and lets himself in. “I need one of you to go with Harry tomorrow back to London for his interview.”

“Rob, why’d you let us know so late?” Yvonne complains. “I would go but my sister’s wedding is tomorrow!”

“I’m sorry hun, I thought he would just need someone from publicity but it seems like he also has a pop-up shop there opening soon.”

“I can’t.” Jasmine shrugs her shoulders. She doesn’t even bother saying why. Y/N knew she had to say it before Marissa. She can’t imagine being on a whole ass trip with her ex. Yet somehow the girl beat her to it.

“I can’t go either. Sorry.” Marissa speaks up. She was planning something. It was obvious from the way her eyes connected with Y/N’s.

“Alright, Y/N please be ready by 4 A.M. Harry will have a driver sent to your place.” Rob looks at her and smiles. “This is going to be a great experience for you.”

Coffee wasn’t going to cut it. Y/N barely got any sleep since she had to pack as soon as she got home. Apparently, they were staying for 5 days so this meant more torture for her. At 4 A.M on the dot, a black car picked her up in front of her building and drove her straight to the airport. There she saw Harry and Emily already sitting in the VIP lounge, laughing about something.

“Good morning!” Emily says to Y/N as her eyes catch sight of hr entering. Emily was a nice woman from publicity. She’s been working in PR for over 25 years, making her a pro in handling any scenario.

“Good morning.” Y/N smiles back as she pulls her hand carry with her to one of the seats.“Why are you sitting so far?” Emily laughs. Harry seemed to be too interested as he read something on his phone. “We don’t bite.”

“Oh no, I’m okay here. Thank you. I just have to stretch my legs.”

“Alright. Well now that you’re here to keep Harry some company, I’m going downstairs to get a bagel.” The old lady stands up and grabs her purse. She waves at them one more time before leaving the room.

Silence.

Nothing but pure awkwardness and it was driving Y/N mad. She hated that this man was making her cry even though they were over. Maybe, she shouldn’t have stayed with the company.

“They have really good smoothies downstairs.” Harry blurts out, still looking at his screen. “I know you really like having one in the morning. Thought you should know.”

“Thank you.” Y/N was playing with her cuticles but gave him a quick glance. “I’m fine though.” Nothing but distant conversations can be heard as the ex-couple continued to act disinterested in one another.

This is the final call for flight BA111 to Thailand.

What caught Y/N’s eye, however, was Harry reaching something into his back pocket. It made her have to speak up. “Putting on your ring again? Funny how no one seems to notice how hot and cold you are with it.” Harry scoffs as he stays frozen staring at her.

“None of your business.” He slides the ring on successfully and goes back into his old position.

A brief pause happens before Y/N decides to speak up -she was tired of his attitude. “You know what?” She glances around the empty room before whispering back at him. “I don’t understand what got your panties in such a twist. You need to stop being such a jerk to me!” Harry’s face shows no emotions as he listens to her.

“You don’t know why? How about out of the blue your girlfriend breaks up with you.”

“It was destined to happen, Harry!” Y/N’s eyes widen at his response. “You’re marr-”

“They had so many bagels to choose from! I had to buy two since I couldn’t pick!” Emily walks in, all innocent. “You guys okay?”

“Perfect,” Harry mutters but it wasn’t. As they boarded his private plane, he watched Y/N walk in front of him, trying to wipe her tears.

The whole plane ride was quiet since he realized most of them had to catch some sleep but for some odd reason, he couldn’t. Harry’s bodyguard was at the very front row, snoozing off. Emily had her own chair and she crashed the moment the plane took off. He didn’t know if Y/N was awake but he hoped she was sleeping. When he saw her the first time this morning, she looked so drained out.

Harry just didn’t know what to say nor what to think. His breakup caught him off guard and now he’s been in a bad mood ever since. Sometimes, he wondered if his divorce would make him feel this way and in all honesty, he knew it wouldn’t.

There was something still tying him to that depressing marriage and he’s starting to think that maybe Y/N was correct. He was scared to be like his parents but that didn’t make him regret anything he said to her that night. He knew he would keep her a secret even if he was single again. The idea of reporters picking on her didn’t settle well with him. Just the thought made his stomach sick.

So although he’s heartbroken, the only way he found himself coping was by picking on Y/N. Y’know the girl that broke his heart. He didn’t mean to but his first instinct was to ignore her until her internship ended -And that went well until Rob announced her permanent position in the company. He was mad at her for torturing him. He told himself that he would let her go because she wasn’t happy with him. So why the fuck does it feel like she’s teasing him.

Every time he walks into those meetings, he can feel the tension between them. It makes his head go crazy as if he needs to beg on his knees so she can take him back. But like every love story, it’s just not that simple. It’s his pride and his reputation on the line. He needs a gap after his divorce before he can even go public with her. Oh, what is he thinking? No matter how much time he thinks can fix this, people will still attack them. He lost so many girlfriends because of his fame and he won’t let Y/N deal with it too. Especially, since she’s not a celebrity. She has no idea what this lifestyle can truly be like.

“London is quite… big.” Harry puts his shades on as he watches his bodyguard put the last luggage in the car. They were in a hidden corner outside of Heathrow Airport, Y/N and Emily stood next to him as they waited for his instructions. “You ladies can travel and explore the city. But, I was wondering if you would like to stay at my home this week. It will save you some money.”

“Oh no, Harry we don’t want to bo-” Emily speaks up.

“No, I insist. I had to bring you ladies along the last minute. Tom, you have my car ready right?” His bodyguard nods. “Perfect, you girls hop in with me and Tom will drive behind us.”

“Harry, your house is so beautiful.” Emily’s eyes shine as they step out of his car.

“Thank you.” Harry smiles proudly as he glances at Y/N. “Let’s go inside so you can pick out your rooms.”

The house was gorgeous. Y/N wanted to tell him too but after their little fight at the airport today, she decided to keep her mouth shut. To be honest, there were so many things she wished she could tell him but he’s been acting so unapproachable.

As they walked inside, the house smelled faintly like him, making Y/N forcefully hold in her breath a couple of times. How can this man barely be here yet the place smelled just like him.

“Oh, Harry…. You and your wife are very lucky to have this house. I love this rustic theme. It feels so homey.” Emily compliments him. “Y/N when you get married, make sure you take care of the decorating portion, so you can have something like this.”

“Oh-” Y/N’s eyes widen as she hears Harry cough behind her.

“My wife has actually never been here before. She’s not a fan of London.” Harry tries to say nonchalantly. In reality, however, both of their hearts were racing. Their brains synced up with one another as they thought about a distant memory.

It was a couple of months into their affair as they cuddled naked against each other in Y/N’s bedroom. The moonlight was shining right onto them as they both stared at random objects in her room, appreciating their intimacy. Harry’s hand comb her hair back while she let her fingers mindlessly trace his tattoos. Their breathing was in sync as they whispered sleepy thoughts to one another.

“What’s it like in London?” Y/N mumbles as her lips touch his chest while she speaks.

“It’s rainy,” Harry replies back. He scoots himself closer to the girl and kisses her forehead. “Have you ever been?”

“No.”

“I’ll bring you one day, I promise.”

“Really?”

“Mhm, I’ll bring you to all my favourite places and fuck you so hard in the hotel rooms.”

“Why does that sound so appealing?” Y/N laughs as she looks up at him. “Can we go soon?”

“When I find out how to not get seen by the paparazzi, sure.”

“Does this mean we have to have all our meals in our hotel room?” Y/N pouts -because as much as Harry can request a secluded room, he’s still married and people will talk.

“Baby, don’t make it sound depressing. I’m sure we’ll find ourselves a loophole.”

...

“You’ll try?” She pulls away immediately looking at him. “What do you mean? Have you not been trying to do that these past few months!” He rubs his face in frustration.

“It’s hard Y/N. I told you countless times.”

“I know it’s hard but what’s stopping you from doing it! You told me that you don’t want to lose me but for some odd reason, it seems like you don’t want to lose her!”

“She was my first love Goddammit!” He finally yells back at her.

It’s been two days since their stay in London and Y/N was enjoying every minute of it. Although she had to give some of her hours to work, she couldn’t deny her excitement as she and Emily walked through the unknown streets.

Funny enough while they were eating at a small cafe for lunch, she ended up meeting a new guy. His name was Elliot and he came from New York to visit his family here in London. He was just having lunch with an old friend of his. He noticed her accent and decided to approach her table.

Although, Y/N thought he was cute - she wasn’t interested? It confused her because the moment he asked for her number, she thought of Harry. Which automatically made her say yes. She just doesn’t know if she’s ready for a new relationship but what’s the problem with trying?

“How was your day?” Harry watches the women come into his home as he sits on his couch watching TV. It was around 8 PM and he had nothing to do. His schedule this past year was made to be available for Y/N (excluding PR events) and since they broke up, he never planned on changing them.

“Harry, oh we didn’t think you’d be home. You’re a celebrity! Shouldn’t you be out partying?” Emily laughs as she sits on the couch. She rests her bags on the floor as Y/N does the same.

“Oh no. I’m not really into those. I don’t know it’s a nice Friday night to relax. Tomorrow, we have that interview in the morning so I wanted to sleep early.”

“What a smart boy! Well, Y/N and I did some shopping. London is so beautiful. I’m glad I’m here again. Actually, that reminds me! Y/N tell Harry what happened today!”

“Huh?” Y/N’s face pales as she looks at Emily. Her co-workers seemed to invade her love life without seeing a problem. The problem is, however, is that they don’t know what’s truly been happening. “Elliot.” Emily gives her a comforting smile.

“Oh, do you know him?” Harry gives her a serious look as he turns down the TV.

“No, he came up to us while we were having lunch.”

“He was so cute Harry! I hope they get together.” Emily squeals. “He’s from New York but I think he was truly interested in you Y/N. He was bold enough to ask for your number!”

“Did you give him your number?” Harry asks Y/N without looking at her. He was biting the inside of his cheek pretty hard trying to pretend as if he didn’t care at all. Suddenly he was too focused on watching the show on his TV.

“Yeah.”

“Cool”

And although Emily continued the conversation, Harry didn’t think it was cool at all.

Knock...knock…

Y/N hears the soft knocks on her door as she leaves her ensuite. A couple of hours ago the conversation in the living room ended leaving them to rest in separate rooms of the house.

“Hey.” She catches herself off guard as she sees Harry in front of her when she opens the door. She glanced at his familiar outfit and for some odd reason, it made her feel good. He was wearing his sweatpants and an old band tee she used to wear when he stayed at her’s for a few nights.

“I was wondering if we could uh talk.” He glances at the hallway he’s standing in. He was scared Emily would walk out of her room.

“Oh yeah Sure. Come in.” Y/N opens her door a bit wider to let him in. Her luggage was messily opened in the corner of her room while her shopping bags stayed on the other side. She mindlessly hides her arms in her sweater and sits on the bed. “Funny how you want to talk but you’ve been ignoring me for 3 months.”

“Uh just thought it was a good time to talk to you since we’re not really at work and we’re not surrounded by people.” Y/N rolls her eyes. He had to be bullshitting her.

“Why are you here Harry? Are you thinking you can sleep with me tonight? That this is an opportunity?” Y/N gives a disgusted look as she watches Harry standing in front of her with his arms crossed.

“What? No. Y/N… I just- Fuck.” He lets his arms out in disbelief. “ I don’t know why I’m here. I’ll leave.” He turns around but her voice calls him out.

“No. Stay. You obviously have something to tell me.” He turns around and sighs. He sits beside her on the mattress and looks at his hands.

“I miss you.” He blurts out. Y/N rubs her eyes, not from tiredness but because she misses him too -so mainly from frustration.

“You can’t say that.”

“You told me to stay and tell you what I needed to tell you.”

“You didn’t need to tell me that.” Y/N pulls her hands from her face and sarcastically laughs at him. She knew she was still in love with him but she also knew their break up was for the right reason. Their affair was wrong. He didn’t know what he wanted and she knew too specifically what she needed.

“Well, you’re right.” He replies with a bit of an attitude. “I don’t know- just forget this ever happened.”

“Okay good, I’ll go back to texting Elliot.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders and reaches for her phone but before she knows it, Harry grabs her phone and unlocks it. It was still his birthday as her passcode and although that made him feel a bit better, he stood up to recite to her the stupid messages on her phone.

He tries to hide his red cheeks as he scrolls through their text messages. “Did he just ask you what your favourite colour was?” Harry squints his eyes as he looks at her. He was carefully observing her reaction to his texts. “That’s a stupid question.”

“I found it cute.” Y/N speaks over him. “Are you done looking at MY messages.”

“Bub, you actually think you’re going to get with this guy?” Harry looks away from the phone and looks at her. “He seems like a total wim-”

“Don’t call me bub Harry!” She interrupts him. “Especially, since you’ve been calling me stupid in front of all my colleagues at work during these past two months!” Y/N furrows her brows as she takes her phone back. She hates that he’s here right now. He’s acting like he wasn’t a total ass to her at her work.

“Shit Y/N.” That’s when he realized he fucked up. “Okay, I’m sorry about that.” He watches her as he combs his hair back.

“You can’t just come in here, say you miss me and look through my personal text messages. You pretended as if I didn’t exist these past few months and that hurt me!”

“Y/N, I’ve been hurting too!” Harry walks closer to her and shakes his head. “Don’t think our relationship meant nothing to me.”

“Well, you sure as hell mastered the acting skill! Don’t try to manipulate me, Harry. You ignored me. You embarrassed me. You’ve been treating me like shit!”

“I needed to move on from you Y/N. I had to manipulate myself into thinking I was making the right choice. Our relationship was the only thing making me happy.”

“Do you have any proof of our relationship?” Y/N sarcastically replies as she closes her MacBook and places it on the nightstand. “You have all these pictures of you and your wife but everything about us is hidden.” Harry’s eyes widened. “I lie to my family. You come to my apartment taking the hidden roads and a thick cover-up. Do you think that makes me feel better? Knowing you’re not just hiding me but your affair from the public.”

“Okay, what the actual fuck? What is wrong with you? What’s up with your obsession with us being public? Do you want fame or something?”

“How dare you?” Y/N stands up to meet his height. “Is that what you think of me? Using you for fame!”

“It sure damn seems like it.” Harry rolls his eyes as he walks forward to her, making them the closest they’ve been in for months.

“Harry, I’m 23! Everyone I know makes it clear they’re in a relationship. Just because people know about us, it doesn’t mean I would publicize everything we do. I just need evidence that this relationship we have between us is real!”

“YN are you bloody kidding me right now. Of course, it’s real! What have we been doing these past years?”

“Messing around?” Y/N scoffs. “You’re married and for some goddamn reason you won’t leave her!”

“Even if I ended things with her, I would still keep you a secret Y/N. I don’t know what you want from me.” Harry calmly states as he closes his eyes.

“There’s a difference in keeping me a secret and having our relationship known to the public but being very private.”

“I don’t know why this matters to you so much. You know I care about you and I want to be yours. Fuck -I was yours.” Harry wipes his eyes a bit.

“You don’t know why it matters to me so much because you aren’t me. You don’t know how it feels to have the second bits of someone. You don't even understand how I feel -to be so in love with someone, only to know from the beginning they were never fully yours, to begin with.”

“You love me?” Harry chokes on his breath as he looks down at her. He obviously knew they had such a deep connection but he never thought about love when it came to them. You want to know why?

Love always makes everything complex and hurtful. He fell in love for the first time with his wife and look where it led him? In a broken marriage where he no longer had hope. He had wishes and dreams for the two of them and throughout the years, they all disappeared in a drought.

Love is such a pleasing and attractive feeling that every human wants but why does it always end opposite for him? To be in love is different. You have to be vulnerable and Harry has never done that with Y/N. He doesn’t even know if he can do that again. He already fell in love and found someone who he would call his partner. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part. That didn’t go as planned.

“Yes.” Y/N looks down but Harry’s hand rests on her chin to make her look at him again.

“Why couldn’t you tell me sooner?” He was stalling. He was asking her questions so he wouldn’t have to explain his feelings for her. He was also trying to let her down slowly.

“Last time I spoke to you, you told me you wouldn’t leave your wife because she was your first love.”

“Oh.”

“Is she your only?”

“My only what?”

“Your only love?”

Silence.

There’s your answer.

“For a husband to cheat on his wife, people would say you have a big ego but I don’t think so. Elliot isn’t the wimp Harry… you are.”

“It takes two to tango Y/N. Don’t just blame me.” Harry lets his hand fall. “I have rules I stand by when it comes to marriage and you know how much of a pain she is!”

“You told me you wanted to leave her but that never happened! I kept telling myself that our relationship was okay but why was it still killing me?” She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at him. “ Do you still love her?”

“No,” Harry answers immediately.

“Why are you still holding onto her? Why can’t you see that she’s not making you happy and you need to get out of this marriage.”

“Because it’s marriage Y/N! I committed myself to her for my whole life!”

“You sure as hell weren’t committed last year!”

“You don’t understand because you aren’t married!” Harry finally screams the loudest. His face was red and it seemed like the blood vessel in his neck was about to burst.

“You’re telling me… you rather have me continue compromising my morals and keep this relationship hidden just so you can have the best of both worlds?” Y/N scoffs. “You’re stupid.”

“I know.”

“You can’t have everything. I know you’re famous and rich but you made the choice not to fight for me two months ago and now I’m choosing the same.” Y/N shakes her head and rests her back on the wall. She looks at him with disappointment in her eyes. “I don’t know why we keep having this same fight. We always go through the same topic and the same arguments. Although I’m fighting for what I need in a relationship, I’m also fighting for you to realize you’re better off without her.”

“I guess you can say I’m a bit stubborn.” He speaks up in a soft voice trying to communicate with her in a more respectful tone. “It’s okay if you don’t want me again. I just needed to tell you I miss you. Ever since we broke up, I realized how much of an impact you made on me.” He repeats.

“Ok.”

“Do you miss me?” His mouth pouts as he watches her. “Have you ever?”

“Of course I did Harry. I loved you.”

“Wait a minute. You don’t love me anymore?” Harry was quite offended to hear that from her.

“What? No… it’s complicated. I can’t describe it.”

“You either love me or you don’t.”

“I’m trying to move on. Why can’t you let me? You don’t seem to love me back anyway!”

Silence.

"Letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do” He admits to her., letting his confession easily slip through his lips.

“Resisting you was harder yet I failed.”

After their conversation, Harry left Y/N’s room to get some sleep. Although he approached her with the main goal of receiving closure he realized that his true main reason was to win her back. Maybe it was because of this Elliot guy but Harry couldn't imagine her with someone else. It made him drown in jealousy and sadness -A feeling that his lover knew all too well. That night, he realized he couldn’t have what he wanted. He’s confused about his feelings and how he could win back Y/N.

“Thank you for meeting with me.” Harry lays his head on his mum’s couch as she sits in front of him. Today was their last day in London since tomorrow morning they were going to the airport. Harry knew he had to visit his mum and ask for advice since he needed someone to talk to.

“You’re my son. Of course Harry. What are you saying?”

“I don’t know.” he closes his eyes as he explains everything to his mother. He began with the cold turn of his marriage and later on shared his affair with Y/N and how confused he’s feeling right now.

“For god’s sake. I can’t believe you.” Anne expresses her disappointment. “Harry, I’m not proud of you cheating. I never thought you would do this. Now you-”

“I think I love Y/N.” Harry interrupts her as he rubs his hands on his thighs. Anne lets out a sigh but displays an understanding look.

“If you love her, you’d be willing to compromise and fix things to make her happy. She’s right you know? Why are you still tied up to that other woman if she barely acknowledges you? You never told me about this.”

“Because I don’t want you to worry mum.” He looks at her and rests his elbows on his thighs. “I thought the whole marriage thing would fade away since I’m barely in it. I just thought everything would slowly change and I’d be back to who I was before I became a husband. I was hurt when she became cold to me but I slowly just forgot about her and went on with my day. I was only seeing her 5 times a day and I was starting to be okay with that but whenever someone would ask me something about her or I’m at an event, I realize I’m married. I made promises that I barely kept.”

“She never kept them either.”

“I know. Our marriage was over years ago before we truly started. I just -I don’t want to have a divorce like you and dad. I know you might be offended but I cried my heart out when you told me and Gem you two were splitting up. I promised myself I would never do that.”

“You were 8 Harry. You didn’t understand how love and marriage were so complex. Your father and I just didn’t work but that doesn’t mean I can’t find another person and have that life I always imagined. Rob was that man for me. I think you’re thinking about everything a little bit too hard that you don’t even realize the girl you love is slipping through your fingertips.”

She’s right.

“I’m scared that she won’t be happy with me after I change everything for her. I’m scared she’ll be just like the other woman I married.”

“You can’t let that stop you. It’s unfair for the two of you. You need to fight for her. And don’t think I’m encouraging you and your cheating but I want you to be happy and if that’s with her. I’m okay with that.”

“I need to talk to her.”

It was around 6 PM by the time Harry came home. He barely parked his car into his garage as he entered the house. He noticed Emily was just about to leave.

“Harry! Our interview went great today.” Emily looks up after rummaging in her purse. “Why are you in such a rush?”

“I-um have to pee?” Harry’s cheeks turn red as he leans on the railway and slowly climbs the stairs.

“Oh go then! My uber is here. I forgot to buy some treats for my kids.”

“Oh okay. Is uh Y/N here?” He bites his lip as he watches Emily walk to the front door.

“Yeah, she’s packing. She finished her marketing meeting for your shop like an hour ago.”

“K, thanks. See you tonight.” And with that, Harry jogged up the stairs to go to her room.

Knock… knock…

Deja-vu hits Y/N as she opens her door and sees Harry standing behind it. “Hi, you’re here again. The most I’ve spoken to you after the last three months.” Harry says nothing as he steps inside the room and closes the door.

“I’m leaving her.” He blurts out. He glances at her cozy outfit and her messy room before looking at her again.

“Oh.” Y/N’s eyes widen but she turns around and continues to fold her clothes into her luggage. “That’s a good decision to make. What made you change your mind?”

“You.”

“Harry, We were together for a year and you still didn’t want to leave her.” She sits on her bed and gives him a knowing look. “What made you change your mind?” She repeats.

“Um, I’ll share it with you. When I was eight, my parents divorced. After that, I promised myself I would take love and marriage so seriously -There would only be one person meant for me.”

“I never knew that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared to be vulnerable with you.”

“But you opened up so easily to me about who you were. I just never knew this side of you.”

“I know.” Harry clears his throat and walks towards her. “It’s stupid to think about that rule I made to heart when I was younger. Things are different and I have you or at least I want you.” He closes his eyes for a brief second.. “I spoke to my mum and she told me you‘re right.”

“I know I am.” Y/N lets out a small laugh.

“I just needed someone other than you to tell me it was okay to leave her. I know she and I aren’t even really together but everyone we know thinks we are.”

“Oh.”

“Look I’m sorry that I make things harder for us. I hated talking about the consequences of our relationship because it made me feel guilty and you don’t deserve to be the reason why. You make me so happy and I- I never took into account how truly you felt about our relationship. I continued to put you in a position you didn’t want to be in.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Y/N purses her lips and looks at him, “Even though you were a total ass after our break up you know I still love you. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Even if you don’t love me back, and even if we both move on, there will always be a part of me that will always love you no matter what.”

“Y/N I made myself promise that I would only love one woman and I never really thought about loving you when we were together. Maybe because it was so natural, the feeling went straight to my heart and I never thought about it. B seeing you at work yet feeling so distant from you and our relationship made me recognize how serious I was about you. With that, my wife never made me feel the way I’m with you. You taught me things to make me a better person. She’s different from who I fell in love with before and that’s okay because I’m different too now. ”

“So you aren’t just bluffing. You’re going to leave her. Not just for me but for you too?”

“Yes, I’m doing it for us.” He smirks at her and rests his hands on her waist. “I don’t know why I was stalling.”

“Well, now you’re here.” Y/N smiles as she reaches out to him. “I miss you.” She immediately kisses him as his hands intertwine with her hair, making him desperately kiss her back.

“I miss you too baby.” He pushes her down gently on the bed as he carries her clothes off the bed and onto the bed. “I don’t know if I want to make love to you or fuck you so hard because I miss you.”

“Just do both. Over and over again.” Y/N whispers as she unzips her hoodie and takes off her shorts, leaving her in just her underwear. Harry locks her door and returns back as he quickly takes his shirt off.

“Fuck you look so beautiful. My sweet angel. I can’t believe I had to lose you for a while.” He eyes her greedily before leaning down to leave soft kisses down her chest. His hands pull her down the bed and spread her legs open as his mouth continues to go south. “You don’t know how many times I thought about just fucking you over the desk at your work.”

“You barely spoke to me.” Y/N laughs as she watches Harry kneel on the floor. She quickly shuts up, however, as she feels his hot mouth teasing her covered wet center.

“Didn’t change the fact I had sleepless nights craving your body and needing your cuddles.” His cheeks turn red.

“What else did you want to do then.” Y/N takes her bra off and lets her fingers tug his hair. She was impatient, was it obvious? Both of them only had their hands to keep them happy.

“Last month when I screamed at you in the meeting about merch prices, I was so hard because of your unbuttoned blouse. I couldn’t focus and I needed you out of the room.”

“I wasn’t even doing-”

“You were staring at me and rolling your eyes baby. I know my bad girl when she’s mad. I was so tempted to just pull you by your hair and make you suck my dick.”

“Then let me suck you off now.”

“Nuh, It’s about you,”Harry mumbles and kisses her inner thigh before ripping her thin underwear apart. “Fuck, so wet. I missed the way you taste baby.” Harry immediately dives in, letting his mouth suck on her clit as his fingers dance their way to her needy core.

“Har-”

“Call me what you want to call me.” Harry looks at her as his mouth bites and sucks on her thighs.

“Daddy.” She moans out as his fingers quicken their pace. Her hands holding onto his hair as his mouth greedily attacked her. Licking and sucking without any mercy.

“Play with your titties baby while you watch me fuck you with my fingers.” He instructs as Y/N holds herself with one arm and plays with her boob with the other.

“You make me feel so good. Oh my god.” Harry quickens his pace as he spits on her center, making him watch his saliva drip down to the sheets.

“Turn around.” He helps her into the position before slapping her butt cheek. “Guess I’m going to fuck you first.”

“I need you so badly. Fuck, you ruined me for any other guy out there.” Y/N rests her head on the mattress as she feels him tease her centre. His pants were half off since he was too focused on his girl.

“So no boyfriends these past couple months.”

“No.”

“What about Elliot?”“

I was just starting to talk-” Harry inserts himself in. His hands tightly holding onto her waist.

“You’re going to stop talking to him right? Cuz you’re mine.”

“Mhm…” Y/N turns herself around after a couple of thrusts, making her look directly at him. “Have you been uh seeing any-?”

“No. Couldn’t get my mind off you and I just wanted your company.”“

Oh fuck, harder.” Her eyes roll back as Harry hits her most sensitive spot. His hand rests on her stomach as the other wondered around her body.

“You’re so good for me baby.” He grunts as he leans down to kiss her.

“Fuck, I’m going to come.”

“Just let go, it’s alright love, I'm here.” Harry softly reassures her with his hand wrapped around her neck.

So, this is what it feels like to be in heaven? Y/N thinks to herself as she finally reaches her high. Harry quickened his pace and by the time, he knows it -he spills his seed right inside of her.

“I love you Y/N.”

The trio was now back in America as they stood outside of LAX. Emily was in the car talking to her husband while Harry and Y/N decided to stay outside and talk. They were still waiting for the airport’s security to lead them out of the lot since there were paparazzi outside of this VIP parking area they were in.

“Do you think soulmates are real?” Y/N asks Harry. They stood 5 feet apart, both resting their backs on the car. They were acting as colleagues, as friends -not lovers.

“Yes.” He glances at her through his shades. “No matter where we go or what happens, the universe would lead us back to each other.”

“Are you saying I’m your soulmate?” she sucks on her lollipop innocently as she smirks at him. Harry just smiles back and nods as he crosses his arms again.

That’s cute.

“I’m happy I have you again.”

“You better not be a bitch to me when you visit the office.”

“Me? A bitch?” Harry laughs at her statement.

“You’re sassy! Why else do you think I angrily stare at you at work.”

“I know. It pained me to walk right past you the first day after our breakup.” Harry stares at the concrete wall in front of them. “Did you notice I was in the office more though? I kind of hated you but I had this constant need to see you all time. I even started bugging Marissa and Paul about the marketing contracts so I could work with you through lunches.”

“A simp.” Y/N laughs.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.” She laughs at how clueless he is.

“Your hands look cold. Mind if I warm them up.” Harry intently looked at her hands that seemed to be doing alright.

“We’re in LA and you think I’m cold.” She gives him a funny glare.“Just accept my flirtatious attempt to hold your hand.”

“Emily is inside the car and there’s paparazzi outside.”

“And?”

“You can’t just

“Thought you wanted physical proof we’re together. No one is going to see us.”

“Security camer-”

“Walk closer to me.” Harry interrupts her. She follows along and stands beside him. He secretly reaches behind them to grab her hand. Now they were holding hands but no one could see.

“You’re cute y’know.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at her.

“Well, I should go in the car. There’s AC.” Y/N laughs at his cute attempt. As she walks away, her hand is still intertwined with his leading him to quickly pull her into him so he can kiss her.

“Sorry I couldn't stop myself.” His eyes widen.

They immediately pull away. Harry looks inside the car to see Emily talking on the phone looking outside the window towards the other way. Thank the lord, she didn’t see them.

“Mr. Styles, the security is outside already. We can go.”

“Harry!” Y/N yells out his name through the speaker.

“Hi baby, I just woke up.”

“You have to rea.. read the news.” She was crying so badly that she could barely breathe.

“Why? What happened?”

“They know Harry. Everyone knows about us and Paul just called me in for a meeting.”

His heart was beating fast as he hung up the call without bidding her goodbye or comforting her. His wife was sleeping in the other room but he could already hear the vases and picture frames being thrown at the walls.

TMZ

Harry Styles is Caught Cheating on His Wife With Mysterious Girl!!!

Daily mail

Harry Styles is a Womanizer!

People

Harry Styles’ mistress is Y/N L/N!!!

Hollywood Life

All About Harry Styles’ Affair with Columbia Records Employee!

part three ici

#Harry Styles #solo harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagines #harry styles oneshots #harry styles fanfic #boyfriend!harry #husband!harry #folklore #taylor swift #harry styles story #one direction #one direction one shots #zoeyswritersappreciationwc

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tickly-trashcan · 3 years

Text

Fortune Cookies {ObaMitsu}

A/N: okay this started out as a decent idea but i’m not super happy with how it turned out. I just needed some obamitsu content and i think it ended up a bit too forced but oh well, i don’t have the energy to rewrite it lol. I also started this like two months ago and dropped it for a bit, so it’s pretty rough,,, Anyways, hope you guys wanted some demon slayer content cuz i sure as hell did. Enjoy! (also pardon the editing skills in the picture, i’m still figuring out editing and panel coloring)

Summary: Obanai and Mitsuri are out at a restaurant when Mitsuri gets them some fortune cookies. Obanai refuses to tell her what was on his, and Mitsuri intends to get it out of him no matter what.

Word Count: 2.6k (under the cut)

“Ah, this is delicious!” Mitsuri exclaimed after taking another bite of her food, a bright smile on her face. Obanai looked at her from where he sat next to her, a small smile growing on his lips, though it was hidden by his face covering.

“I’m glad you enjoy it, Kanroji,” He said softly, pushing another plate of food towards her. “Please, have as much as you like.”

Mitsuri nodded eagerly, mouth full. She had always been embarrassed about her eating habits until she met Obanai, who was open about everything with her and made her feel safe and content.

“Do you want some as well, Iguro?”

Obanai shook his head, his heterochromatic eyes gleaming. “I’m content just sitting here with you.”

Mitsuri blushed faintly at his words but nodded, reaching again for a new plate of food as she continued to eat.

They continued like that for a while, Mitsuri gabbing about her pet rabbit or the other pillars while Obanai listened intently, taking in her every word. He was always entranced by her, no matter how simple a task she was doing, and he loved to listen to her voice, ringing through his ears like soft bells.

“You haven’t eaten at all today, Iguro! Here, have some of this! Say aaah~”

“Ah, I’m alright Kanroji, thank you though,” he said softly, holding up a hand to the food Mitsuri held close to his face, blushing. Mitsuri pouted, but quickly changed back to a smile and ate the food instead, letting out a satisfied sigh before turning to Obanai.

“That was really delicious Iguro, thank you for treating me!”

Obanai nodded, standing up with Mitsuri as they began to walk out of the restaurant together. Mitsuri looked towards the front desk of the restaurant, seeing a bowl of fortune cookies that sat in front.

“Ah! Iguro, would you like a fortune cookie? I’ve heard they’re very accurate with their fortunes!” Mitsuri said, clapping her hands together.

“If you’d like one feel free to take one, Kanroji,” Obanai said simply, opening the door to the restaurant, ready to leave.

“I’ll grab one for you!”

“Ah, you don’t have to-”

Mitsuri was already excitedly reaching into the bowl, grabbing a fortune cookie for both her and Obanai. She handed one to Obanai, who took it gingerly from her hands. They walked out of the restaurant and Mitsuri immediately opened hers.

“‘A lifetime of happiness awaits you.’ Ahh, how wonderful! Iguro, what does yours say?”

Obanai hesitantly lifted up his fortune cookie, cracking it open. He pulled out the thin sheet of paper from the cookie, staring at the words as his face practically lit on fire with a blush as he crumpled it in his hands, stuffing it in his pocket.

“Here, you can have the cookie, Kanroji,” He said quickly, handing the cookie part to Mitsuri who held it gently, looking at Obanai and noticing his bright red face.

“What did it say, Iguro?”

“N-Nothing,” He stuttered, surprising Mitsuri. She didn’t say anything as they walked down the road of the town, curiosity nagging at Mitsuri.

“Iguro, what did your fortune cookie say?”

Obanai’s face went slightly pink again and he averted his gaze, staring at the ground as he walked a tad bit faster.

“It wasn’t important,” He said quickly, Mitsuri speeding up her pace to keep up with Obanai. They reached the outskirts of the town quickly at that pace, and Mitsuri pouted.

“Igurooo, I wanna know!” She whined, speeding up a bit more to walk in front of Obanai. He stopped, the blush on his face rather apparent now as he turned, walking back to the town as Mitsuri whined again, reaching out to grab Obanai’s arm, but missing and instead grabbing his side.

Obanai gasped, jumping away from Mitsuri, immediately reaching to cover his side as Mitsuri stared at him, slightly baffled at his reaction. She slowly put two and two together and her face lit up with excitement as Obanai cringed in fear.

“Are you ticklish!?”

“N-No! I mean, that’d be silly. A Hashira, ticklish? Absurd. You only startled me is all.”

Mitsuri grinned, knowing easily that Obanai was lying. She knew that man like the back of her hand considering their closeness, he wouldn’t be able to get away with lying to her.

Mitsuri nodded softly. “Alright, I startled you, sorry about that!”

Obanai nodded, his face still slightly pink as ideas swarmed in Mitsuri’s head. This might be a good way to get him to tell her what was on the fortune cookie…

Mitsuri would need to wait for the right moment though, because Obanai was quick and always had his guard up. Mitsuri smiled sweetly when Obanai glanced at her, quickly turning his head and continuing to walk down the path with her.

They eventually arrived at the Butterfly Estate, where they had been planning to meet Shinobu before heading out on a mission together. Mitsuri figured this would be the perfect opportunity to finally get what she wanted out of Obanai.

They walked inside, waiting in the front room for Shinobu who was still checking in on some patients. Obanai scratched Kaburamaru’s chin and looked around the room that Shinobu had them waiting in. Misturi scooted closer to Obanai, glancing over at him without turning her head. Obanai glanced at her as well, quickly turning his attention back to Kaburamaru who kept nudging his cheek for more chin scratches.

“Hey, Iguro,” Mitsuri started, leaning forward slightly to look at Obanai.

“Yes, Kanroji?”

“I really want to know what your fortune cookie said.”

Obanai sent her a soft glare and sighed, shaking his head.

“I already told you that it’s nothing, kindly drop the subject.”

Mitsuri shook her head, scooting closer to Obanai who backed away slightly.

“If you don’t tell me I’ll make you,” She threatened, grinning as she raised her hands. Obanai immediately caught wind of what was going on, remembering earlier, and jumped up and bolted.

He was quick, but Mitsuri was quicker, grabbing his wrist easily and pulling him back into a hug with her insane physical strength. She pulled a bit too hard, though, and they both went tumbling down, causing a huge ruckus in the room.

“Kanroji! Stop this!” Obanai yelled, struggling in Mitsuri’s ridiculously strong grip. She shook her head. She and Obanai were currently rolling around on the floor, Obanai trying to escape the arm Mitsuri held him in. They looked quite ridiculous, and Obanai was beyond embarrassed being this close to Mitsuri, especially with her practically pressed up against him.

Mitsuri was also slightly flustered, but she quickly enacted her plan, pressing her free hand to a wriggling Obanai’s side, giving it a squeeze as he gasped, immediately slapping a hand over his masked mouth.

“I’ll give you one more chance, Iguro - What was on the fortune cookie?”

“I-It’s nothing. Kanroji, please, don’t do this,” He said, trying to keep his voice level. Mitsuri shook her head, immediately scribbling her fingers around Obanai’s side, making him roll around again as he huffed.

“K-Kanroji, I’m sehe-serious! This isn’t funny!” Obanai said, trying to hide his laughter. Mitsuri grinned, pushing Obanai down onto his back, quickly sitting on top of him before he could get away.

Obanai blushed several shades of red as he looked up at Mitsuri, quickly shaking his head.

“Don’t,” He said, a hint of desperation in his voice. Mitsuri only wiggled her fingers, slowly lowering them down until they made contact with Obanai’s tummy. He held his breath and shut his eyes, waiting for the horrible sensations to start…

They didn’t. He cracked open his eye to look up at Mitsuri, who smiled sweetly. Was she going to let him off the hook?

No sooner had he thought that did he feel Mitsuri’s hands immediately start to scribble up and down his tummy, Obanai quickly slapping a hand over his clothed mouth as he held his breath, trying desperately not to laugh.

“K-Kanroji,” He muttered, inhaling sharply when Mitsuri tweaked his side. She hummed, focused on getting Obanai to laugh as he struggled to keep himself from even chuckling beneath her.

“Just tell me what was on the cookie and I’ll stop, m’kay?” She said sweetly, skittering her fingers across his ribs as he gasped, biting his lip now to keep himself from laughing as he huffed softly.

“I-It was nothing,” Obanai managed to get out, a quiet squeak escaping his lips when Mitsuri poked his upper ribs. Mitsuri raised an eyebrow and grinned.

“Kanroji, you’re being - you’re being ridiculous,” Obanai sputtered, huffing out a short breath of laughter as Mitsuri grazed over his underarms, immediately making him clamp down his arms.

“Hehe, I’m - I’m serious, Kanrohoji,” He giggled softly, and Mitsuri beamed.

“You’re giggling! Come on, I want to hear more!”

The gentle tickles that Mitsuri had been performing before halted, and were immediately replaced with rougher tickles that caught Obanai by surprise. His chuckles escalated, and he quickly went to put his hand over his mouth again, only for Mitsuri to grab his wrist and pin it next to his head.

“Nuh-uh! Tell me what was on the fortune cookie and I might stop before I really get you laughing,” She said, giggling as Obanai writhed underneath her, desperate not to make any noise as Mitsuri deeply prodded his sensitive ribs. She trailed her fingers up, twirling them around Obanai’s underarm, making him gasp and squeeze his eyes shut as he tried to keep his laughter in.

“Kaha - Kanroji,” He huffed, trying to hold his laughter in.

Mitsuri chuckled, dragging down Obanai’s upper arm down to the hollow of his underarm excruciatingly slowly, teasing him as he shook with withheld laughter.

“Stop holding back already, you’re gonna pop like a balloon if you keep that up,” She teased, starting to scribble her fingers under his arm.

Obanai continued to struggle to hold his laughter in as Mitsuri egged him on, trying to get him to break. He figured if he held out just a little bit longer that she would get bored and give up, there was only so much her attention span could handle.

She sighed as she scribbled all over his tummy, poking and prodding at it as Obanai continued to shake with quiet laughter, managing to keep it from Mitsuri who was indeed growing bored.

“I can tell you’re ticklish, why won’t you just laugh?” She whined, tweaking Obanai’s hip experimentally. He jumped, yelping as Mitsuri lit up, noticing how different his reaction had been compared to the other spots she had tried. Obanai looked at her fearfully.

“Kanroji, don’t you dare,” Obanai tried to sound threatening, but when Mitsuri squeezed his hip again and he squeaked, his previous threat was lost in the wind.

Mitsuri immediately dug her thumb into his hip bone and kneaded them, Obanai squirming around wildly beneath her as he grabbed onto her wrists, trying to peel them off.

“K-Kahahahanroji! Stop it!” He laughed breathily, making Mitsuri positively radiate joy as she listened to his laughter.

“Your laugh is so cute! Ah, I’m so glad I got to hear it!”

Obanai blushed madly. He wasn’t expecting her to tickle him in the first place, let alone find the one spot that got him laughing like a small child. The gods were not on his side today, and he could definitely tell there was no getting out of this.

He was worried, despite his laugh being relatively quiet, that Shinobu would hear in the next room as she took care of patients. He could handle Mitsuri knowing about this, he trusted her, but none of the other Hashira would be allowed to live if they found out.

“Just tell me what was on that fortune cookie and I’ll stop right away, I promise!” Mitsuri quipped, one hand still squeezing his hip as her other hand ran back up to his ribs, poking between each one as Obanai jolted.

“I-I cahahahahan’t! Kanroji, stohohohohop!”

“Yes you can! Just tell me what it said!”

Obanai shook his head and Mitsuri pouted.

“Time to see just how ticklish you are then!”

“Nohohohoho!”

Kaburamaru had slithered away from Obanai long before the tickling had started, but the small snake was intrigued by the reactions of its owner. He slithered over and flicked his tongue at Obanai, watching as Obanai squirmed wildly and cackled.

“K-Kaburamahahahahahaharu! Hehehehelp!”

Kaburamaru looked up at Mitsuri, who was laser focused on tickling Obanai, and the small snake slithered over to her leg and nudged her.

She turned to look at the white snake, who was currently headbutting her knee. She thought it was cute that Kaburamaru had so much compassion, and ceased her tickling for a moment to pick up the small creature and give it a quick peck.

Kaburamaru wriggled around excitedly, slithering out of Mitsuri’s hands and flicking its tongue again at Obanai, making him giggle and swat at the small animal.

Mitsuri laughed at the two happily, placing her hands back on Obanai’s hips as she looked down at him, waiting for him to catch his breath.

“Do you wanna tell me what was on the fortune cookie?”

Obanai flushed, but decided that telling her what it said would be better than suffering through any more of that cruel tickle torture and risking Shinobu walking in on the two.

“It said… It’s time to tell them how you feel,” Obanai said, his face now bright red.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Mitsuri started, though suddenly a pang of sadness hurt her chest. What if it wasn’t her…?

“You should… tell them,” Mitsuri said slowly, Obanai sitting up and looking at Mitsuri, who looked down. Obanai instantly picked up on the drop in her mood.

“Kanroji,” Obanai started, leaning towards Mitsuri. She looked up at Obanai, only to be surprised as Obanai lowered his mask and pressed his lips gently against hers. She was taken aback by the sudden kiss, but her defenses slowly melted as she shut her eyes, reaching her hands up to hold Obanai’s face.

They pulled away eventually and Obanai put his mask back up, turning away from her, bright red as she stared at him, her own face turning bright red as she processed what had just happened.

“I-Iguro,” She said softly, lowering her hands as Obanai glanced at her.

“Do you feel the same, Kanroji?”

Mitsuri could barely contain her emotions, and she quickly hugged Obanai, nodding her head vigorously as Obanai slowly hugged her back.

“Yes, of course I do! I’ve felt the same since the day I met you! You’ve been so sweet, so kind… I love you,” She said, whispering the last bit. Obanai smiled softly under his mask, squeezing Mitsuri tightly as they embraced for several moments, happy for their feelings to finally be spoken.

“Ara ara~ What do we have here?”

Obanai and Mitsuri froze, and Obanai stared up at Shinobu who grinned smugly at the two of them. Mitsuri quickly let go of Obanai and spun around, shaking her hands in front of her, face bright red from embarrassment.

“K-Kochou! Uhm, hello! We were just - uhmm,” Mitsuri floundered, quickly realizing she was still sitting on Obanai and quickly jumped up, blushing madly.

“We were just waiting for you,” Obanai said calmly, standing up as well, picking up Kaburamaru and settling him back on his shoulders as Shinobu continued to smile at the two of them, clearly knowing what was going on.

“Took you two long enough. Anyways, it’s about time we headed out, isn’t it? Let’s go,” She said, winking at them as she turned. Obanai’s face burned, though Mitsuri didn’t seem to catch onto what Shinobu had said.

Obanai laced his fingers with Mitsuri’s glancing at her. “Are you ready?”

She blushed at the sudden contact, but nodded, smiling eagerly.

“Ready!”

#obamitsu #obanai #mitsuri #demon slayer #tickle fic

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joheunsaram · 3 years

Text

To Make A Power Couple - 06 (knj)

Chapter 6: Garlic Pasta and I Miss You-s

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Namjoon visits his parents and Yoongi and Y/N bond over their past.

word count- 4.5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, angst, action, slightly smutty, strangers2lovers

warnings- drinking, talk of mental health and panic attacks, violence, blood, stalker

a.n- sorry for this chapter being late! i had major burn out this last few weeks but I finally got it out. Tell me what you think!

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

—

“I hate you Kim Namjoon! Get out!”

Namjoon looks at you with an amused smile as he drops his bags at the door of your bedroom. You’re sitting in your bed, your comforter fully around you, even on top of your head, as you loudly blow your nose, some show blaring on the television. Even though he feels bad about passing on his cold to you, he can’t help but find your red nose and whining adorable. The past few months since Namjoon returned from tour had been few of the best you’d had in Korea. Although you both still had remarkably busy schedules, you had found a routine of spending time together at least once a week, usually ending your Saturdays together to spend as much of the Sunday together as possible. It didn’t matter how you spent your time, whether it was spent going out on dates or sitting silently reading or cuddling, all that mattered was that you were together.

“Aw baby, I’m sorry!” He sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around your burittoed body. He kissed all over your face obnoxiously, much to your chagrin as you groaned and tried to get him off you, worried to get your snot on him. “Okay. Tell you what. I’ll cancel going to my parents and stay here to take care of you!” He punctuated that with another kiss on your lips. Hey, he’d already suffered through this cold, might as well take advantage of being able to be near you now.

“No! Shut up! You’re not cancelling.” Since things were slower at work, the company had decided to give Namjoon and the boys the week off. He had spent the first day with you, going to the most recent Ji Hye Yeom exhibit yesterday, and was going to go visit his family for the next four days. When Namjoon told you he was planning to spend the majority of his vacation with his parents, he was bracing himself for a negative reaction, a learned response from his previous relationship. His ex would always hate that he would visit his family for extended periods when he got time off and wouldn’t prioritize his relationship with her. He was surprised and relieved to hear you not only excited that he was visiting family but encouraging him to spend more time, upping his initial ask of two days to four. He liked that you always encouraged him to call his mom when he was on tour, as did his mom, so much so that she had started to say ‘my beautiful daughter’ whenever she referred to you in front of him.

Namjoon stood up as he watched you rant about the importance of visiting family, one arm out from your duvet heaven as you waved it about to emphasize your points. He almost giggled at how endearing you looked sniffling through your tirade, hair a mess and voice a little hoarse. Taking off his jeans to get comfortable, he chuckled at your wide eyes and dramatic gasp.

“No! We’re not having sex right now you maniac!” You whine as you lie down with the covers over your head. Namjoon gets into bed, pulling the comforter from over you to sneak inside, his arms snaking around your grumbling form to pull him to his chest. Although you complained, you snuggled into him, feeling the safe comfort that only Namjoon provided you.

“I just wanna nap with you before I leave.” He kissed the top of your head as he tangled your legs with his. You poked your head up from where it was hiding in his chest to look up at his smiling face as he cupped your cheek to place a chaste kiss on your lips. Caressing the skin once he leans away, he looks at you adoringly. “Sorry for getting you sick, baby.”

———————————-

“Your boyfriend is a tyrant. Please never get sick again.” Yoongi took off his beanie and mask and shook his head to fluff his hair as you went through your phone to finish placing the order for takeout. After talking to Namjoon about how you had spent all of yesterday recovering, and even facetiming to ensure him that you were fit enough to be working again, he still didn’t believe you, forcing the only member of his band that was in Seoul during his vacation to make sure you were truly alright. You would be annoyed if your heart didn’t skip a beat at his overt concern. You were glad to spend time with Yoongi - he was pretty similar to you and you both had been slacking on hanging out lately. A few months ago you had decided to host a whiskey exchange where you would share bottles of your favourite liquor together, only for it to fall apart after two hangouts due to your busy schedules and Yoongi’s new relationship. It was nice to be in his company again, his mellow energy a great contrast to your usually loud friends.

“What did he say?” You question, laughing. Yoongi had called Namjoon many funny nicknames before but hearing him call him a tyrant made you laugh, picturing your boyfriend getting stern and demanding someone pay you a visit.

“You wanna see?” Yoongi chuckled as he pulled his phone out, navigating to the group chat and handing it to you. You couldn’t help but smile as you read Namjoon pleading to the group to check in on you, asking if anyone was around. Yoongi said he was around but refused only to relent once the other boys pressured him and Namjoon pulled in a favour Yoongi owed him from 2015.

“Ooof. Honestly, it’s not that bad. Good to know Jungkook would literally kill for me though, and that you hate to hang out with me.” You threw an ice cube at him from where you were putting them in your glasses.

“He wouldn’t. He’s just a suck up.” He dodged your attack, sticking his tongue out in triumph. “And you know I had to make Namjoon suffer a bit.”

Rolling your eyes at him as he smirked, you watched him pull out his bottle from his backpack. Your Craigellachie 16 no match for his Glenfiddich 30, you chastised him for buying such an expensive bottle for just the exchange. However, you were not going to say no to a glass of that and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you enjoyed your drinks. You were the first to break the silence.

“How’s your bae?”

“Oh haven’t you heard? Bae is no more! Broke my heart and left me to suffer.” Yoongi scowled as he dramatically grabbed his chest, before downing his drink. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he was joking but his usual deadpan was missing.

“Shit… I’m sorry Yoongs.” You looked at him softly, making him scoff.

“It’s fine. Going to get a sick album out of this.” Yoongi waved you off, as he reached in his backpack again to bring out three bottles of soju. “Let’s get drunk!”

“That’s… one way of looking at things. You want to talk about it?” You knew he didn’t want to talk about it, it was probably still fresh and you didn’t want to impose but you wanted to give him the opportunity to share if he wanted to.

“Nah it’s fine. It was the usual anyways. ‘You’re always busy.’ ‘Why won’t you share your feelings with me?’ ‘Do you love me more or your career?’ I say good riddance.” He scoffed once again as he poured himself some more whiskey, sipping it blissfully.

“Well good to know you’re not hiding your pain.” You narrowed your eyes at him, but decided to get drunk with him anyways, taking up his offer to refill your glass. You had an extremely light day at work tomorrow with it being Friday and all, plus you knew that once Yoongi got drunk he would tell you how he was feeling. He was a very talkative drunk.

“Oh you know it. I’m nothing if not in touch with my feelings!”

Soon you and Yoongi were wasted, sitting on opposite ends of your couch as the television played the ‘important videos’ playlist on Youtube, laughing maniacally at each random short video that popped up. The food you had ordered was sitting on the coffee table, half eaten and getting cold. Having not heard Yoongi’s giggle in a while you looked away from the screen to see him staring into space, a slight frown on his lips.

“Dude. You good?” You poked him with your foot to break him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. Sorry just realized I’m single again. Fuck.” He looked at you with wide eyes, as if he had just had an epiphany. You frowned at him, sad that he was feeling this way. In the past six months, you had come to learn that although Yoongi often talked about how much he loved being alone, in reality he put a lot of pressure on himself to find someone to be with.

“You know you’re worth more than a relationship, right?” You placed your hand on his, smiling reassuringly.

“Don’t go all Dr. Phil on me. I’m not that sad. It was like two months but it felt nice to call someone mine, you know?” He rolled his eyes at your concern, but held your hand tighter as he finished his sentence, averting his gaze with a melancholic look. He looked at you again sighing. “How did you get over your last breakup?”

“Um… not healthily. I almost sold my company.”

And so for the next hour, you told Yoongi of how messed up your previous relationship had made you. You don’t think you had talked about it in depth about your breakup with Beomseok for years now, but somehow drunk off extremely expensive whiskey and extremely cheap soju it felt natural to share the details about your most toxic relationship with Yoongi. Beomseok and you met when you were initially still in Canada, visiting Seoul in hopes of expanding. You were busy and he tried to help you as you adjusted to a new country, but as your relationship grew so did his tendency to ensure you relied on him. As hard as it was to admit to Yoongi, Beomseok had made you dependent on him, so much so that when he left you after two years of you accommodating him, you broke down. You started having terrible anxiety, using alcohol and cigarettes to take the edge off. Panic attacks became the norm so much so that you had contemplated leaving your position. You couldn’t see your friends, worked from home, and just buried yourself away. It took half a year of self destructive behaviour and for you to wake up in a bed with someone you didn’t remember to knock some sense into you and get yourself into therapy. Yoongi then talked about his own relationship issues, the two of you bonding over your struggles with mental health and shitty coping mechanisms. It was weird to think that Yoongi hadn’t been one of your close friends before this night.

It was around two in the morning by the time Yoongi left and you felt the emotions of the night catch up to you. You hadn’t thought about Beomseok in years, and thinking about him made you feel extremely sad for past you. You didn’t deserve how he treated you and you wished you could go back in time and shake some sense into yourself, and save the heartbreak. Lying in bed, drunk and emotional, you mourned for your old self and her faith in the world. However, looking at your phone you saw the photo of you and Namjoon - him standing behind you with his arm on your shoulder as he pretends to take a bite off your cheek as you grimace - and you were reminded that you were in a much better place now with a much better man. To say you looked forward to Namjoon returning tomorrow would be an understatement.

———————————-

Namjoon: I’m back!!! Namjoon: I miss you!!! Namjoon: Come over!!! Namjoon: I’m cooking for you!!! Y/N: Um… should I call poison control now or later? Namjoon: I’m back after almost a week and this is the welcome I get? Y/N: Babeeeee you know I love you! Namjoon: Prove it. Eat the pasta I’m making Y/N: Did anyone at least help you cook it? Namjoon: IT’S GOING TO BE GOOD. COME OVER. Y/N: Ok ok. No need to yell… Namjoon: Good. See you in an hour? Namjoon: I’m at the dorms btw Y/N: See you soon jooooooonie Y/N: I miss you too btw Namjoon: I love you too btw

You punched the code to the dorm and were greeted by a very excited Moni as you entered. The white dog jumping up at your legs, his tail wagging wildly behind him. You bent down in the entryway to give him a few scratches behind his ears, cooing and calling him a good boy.

“All this love for Moni, what about Joonie? I’m a good boy too!” You heard Namjoon shout out as you made your way through the large living room towards the kitchen, Moni playfully following.

“Aww is my good boy jealous?” You set your eyes on your boyfriend huddled over a cutting board, concentrating hard on cutting what seemed to be garlic, his jaw set. Namjoon was dressed in a blue overalls under which he wore a black sweater, the hood atop his head, the hair of which was now back to his natural dark brown, his nose scrunched as he attempted to keep his glasses from slipping. You don’t know if it was not seeing him for a while or the fact that he looked so cuddly, but you felt butterflies, your stomach somersaulting. You hadn’t felt them since the beginning of your relationship, and you were a bit unnerved that he still had that effect on you six months later.

“Holy shit. You look like a hot minion!” You almost yelled as you walked towards him, startling him enough to look at you with wide eyes under his black rimmed glasses and yelp.

“Don’t scare me like that! I almost cut my hand off!” He tried to glare at you but was soon smiling widely as you ducked under his arm to stand directly in front of him between the counter, putting your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. It felt amazing to have his plush lips against yours again, his familiar scent enveloping your senses till it felt like you were drunk off of him.

“I missed you,” you whispered against his lips. Your hands found your elbows as you pulled him in closer and deepened the kiss, making him moan, his tongue massaging yours as his hands went to your hips, pulling you to him. Before you could lose all your senses you felt a sharp poke on your lower back, and you reluctantly pulled away to look behind you.

“Joonie! You’re still holding the knife!” You said in alarm as his eyes widened again and he dropped it on the counter immediately before looking at you sheepishly and apologizing. “Control yourself. I don’t want to spend the night in the hospital!”

“Then stop distracting me! Go sit there and watch me make you the best pasta of your life.” He smirked and his eyes followed as you moved around the island to sit at the stool, bending down to pet Moni as he settled at your feet. Namjoon knew he was a terrible cook, but he had spent the time at home perfecting this recipe, subjecting his mom to the first few horrible tries, till he figured it out. It was a simple five ingredient dish but it was the first he’d learn and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to impress you. You always cooked for him, from experimental recipes you had found online to traditional Korean food that was second best only to his mom’s, and though he was always happy to do the dishes, he wanted your reunion to be special. He cooked almost quietly, blushing slightly at your words and looks of encouragement, plating it like restaurants would before placing it on the dining table and sitting next to you with a bottle of wine, anticipating your reaction.

“What the fuck? You can cook!” you exclaim as you dig in for another bite. Namjoon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he grinned at his success, finally digging into his meal. “I love the garlic. But damn, is this your way of telling me you don’t wanna kiss tonight?”

“Baby, I find even your gross morning breath irresistible, a little garlic’s not gonna stop me.” he laughed and you scowled at him, nudging him with your shoulder, as he leaned over to peck your lips. You weren’t trying to placate Namjoon, this pasta was absolutely delicious, the right amount of seasoning and everything. It warmed your heart that despite his firestarter tendencies he went through the effort to make you a home cooked meal.

As you ate, you talked about your days apart. You recovered from your cold within a day and had been back at work, and even though he scolded you for going back too fast Namjoon loved the way your eyes lit up when you talked about how you had managed to renew a contract with a client today, switching the period from their usual 1 year to 5 years. You had been working on this for a whole month, taking it upon yourself to attend meetings with not only the directors of this company but even the interns. He squealed with you at your success, high-fiving you and finding your excitement extremely adorable. You also talked about how after two bottles of soju Yoongi had finally admitted you were now his closest female friend and he agreed that you both should now tease him about it relentlessly.

Namjoon told you about how excited everyone was to have him home for that extended period of time, and how healing it was to be around them after the cacophony of tour. Apparently his sister had recently started learning how to make loom bracelets and he showed off the purple one on his wrist, telling you about how he had a matching one for you in his bag. Namjoon looked refreshed and you were glad you convinced him to spend the extra time home. He had also managed to bring back another bonsai tree to add to his collection, taking the time to explain how in a few years he could potentially tap the mini maple for some syrup. The image of your clumsy boyfriend trying to tap a tiny tree made you laugh. As the conversation continued and you both finished your food, you saw his mood dip a little. You silently lean forward cupping his face, as he nuzzles into your touch.

“My beautiful, hardworking boy. What’s wrong?” You coo with a soft smile on your face as your thumbs stroked his cheekbones and he pouts exaggeratedly before his hands go around your waist pulling you into his lap.

“I missed you.” He whispers as he nuzzles his face in your chest, his arms tightening around you. Namjoon felt cocooned in your sweet floral vanilla scent, and even though he’d been home just this morning, this felt like home too - just being in your embrace. He felt his heart swell with adoration as you stroked his hair slowly, whispering affirmations into his ear, slowly forgetting his worries about not spending enough time with you.

Usually when you both met after being apart, it was all desperation to get naked, but for the first time this felt much more intimate. He could hear your heartbeat and it soothed him. He suddenly envisioned both of you old and weathered in each other’s arms and he couldn’t fight the grin that made it on his face. He showered you in kisses, moving from your chest to your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips, where he stayed, kissing you firmly as his arms wind tighter around your waist. You lost yourself in his touch, wanting nothing more to be consumed by him as you tugged lightly at his hair, swallowing his moans. Before things could escalate you get startled by a loud thud.

“Wow! Right where we eat!” Jimin clicked his tongue in disapproval, as you both sheepishly stared at him.

“Noona!” Jungkook exclaimed as he came over to Namjoon and you, dragging you into a hug as he kissed the top of both of your heads. The two men seemed overly excited, and as Namjoon explained to you how he thought he was alone in the dorms tonight since no one has been around in weeks, the two interrupted to say that they had come to start a movie marathon, hoping to stay up all night since they had the day off tomorrow to marathon the Batman franchise as they had a bet going on as which one was the best.

“Do you guys want to join us?” Jimin asked politely as he munched on leftover pasta on the table. You excitedly opened your mouth to speak but before you could get a word out, Namjoon looked at you sternly.

“Nope.” He refused the boys as he looked at you, leaning in close to whisper in your ear before he nipped at it. “Baby, ignore your obsession with Batman. I want my dessert.” His voice was a few octaves lower than usual and his words made you shiver, a blush creeping up your face as a nervous giggle escaped your lips. Maybe you could skip rewatching these old movies, just once.

Bidding a quick goodbye to the boys and ignoring their smirks, you both made your way to Namjoon’s room. As soon as you were out of sight, Namjoon pulled you into another kiss, slotting your lower lip between his, making your heart race as he walked you down the hallway towards his room. You almost tripped over his bags haphazardly strewn in front of his door.

“Sorry, didn’t have time to go to my room yet.” He chuckled against your lips as his grip on your hips stabilized you. You giggled as you turned around to open his door, his lips on your neck instantaneously as he rubbed his growing bulge against your butt. His touch had you breathless as you moved in his room, Moni following closely behind you. Removing himself from you he picked up his dog and moved him outside murmuring an apology to the whining canine as he shut the door.

Without wasting any time, he pinned you against the door, your makeout session getting heavy. Your eyes were screwed shut as you mewled, his lips along your neck igniting a fire in you. Your hands moved from his hair to the buckles of his overalls, snapping them off as they fell to the ground unceremoniously. “Oh look! Easy access!” you exclaimed as he smiled against your skin.

His lips met yours again, his hands kneading the flesh of your sides under your shirt. You could kiss him like this forever, the way his tongue explores your mouth as if he doesn’t already know every crevice of your body, as if he’s worshipping you. His kiss slows down, turning from a sloppy fiery heat to intentional moves made to make you moan as he moves you towards the bed, dropping you to the middle as soon as your knees hit the back of the bed. He stands above you removing his shirt with one hand as you move backwards and soon he’s slotting himself between you.

“Fuck I love you.” He whispers as he kisses your cheek, moving towards your ear. You moan loudly as he grinds against you. Your hands run over his back, feeling the muscles as he continues to kiss your neck, biting it before soothing it with wide licks of his tongue. You used to be embarrassed by the marks he left behind but somehow as time passed you craved them. Jiyoung had even nicknamed him your vampire, and you’d be lying if that didn’t make you giddy.

Realizing you were still fully dressed you pushed at his chest, making him lie next to you as you straddled him, one of your knees almost slipping off the edge of the bed. You giggle at your clumsiness as he holds your hips to steady you and you slowly unbutton your shirt. As your skin becomes visible he runs his hands up your stomach to your chest, squeezing each breast as he reaches your neck before pulling your face to his.

“Mhmm… my pretty girl.” He almost growls as he pulls you into another heated kiss, his hands cupping your face as you grind on him. Suddenly you feel a tug at your hair, making you moan into his mouth, breaking the kiss. Before you know it you are on the floor, laughing at your clumsiness as you see his confused face, eyes still closed, lips puckered.

However, your laughter dies as you hear a loud screech. That’s when you feel that your hair was still being tugged as you looked up to see a tall, bulky woman, probably in her late thirties calling you a slut. Before you can even register what is happening you feel a sharp pain across your face as you realize you’ve just been punched. You taste the iron before you notice drops of bright red on your chest.

You cup your nose with one hand as you hear chaos ensue. Namjoon yelling your name as Moni barks loudly outside the room. You are aware that you are still lying on the floor but your eyes refuse to open as you hear scuffling before the door being slammed and Jungkook’s voice.

Everything’s a blur and you hear a loud blood curdling scream. Before you can register that that noise came from your mouth you hear your arm snap just as the most pain you have ever felt in your life turns your arm numb. You don’t remember much after, only grunts and shouts of your name. The last thing you hear is Namjoon’s voice calling your name repeatedly as he holds your head.

——

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