#i will of course inevitably burn out again but such is life when you have mental illness up the wazoo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

riaki · 5 months

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ur highschool bully gojo was chefs kiss 💋 what do u think about them going to the same college and taking the same classes?? and the reader sitting next/talking to some other guy and satoru gets jealous?? arwahhhshdhshshs so many possibilities, i hope u continue writing it!!

hi nonnie !! thank you so much :) this is ur official part 2 ! i was struggling to think up some possibilities but this helped a lot :oo | read part 1 here ! -> cw: swearing, jealousy, i let it get fic length oops

(former) highschoolbully!gojo on the brain again… like. when you end up seeing him again however many months later, and you can tell that he’s changed. it’s not like its immediately obvious to anyone who doesn’t really know him like you (used to); but he’s a little softer-spoken and his smiles seem nine times more genuine. it’s not a hundred percent; the kind that really lights up his face instead of just barely falling short of his stark blue eyes, but it's something.

of course, you have nothing to base it off of, because when you do inevitably see him again it's the very definition of meet ugly.

college is a new frontier, but its also a clean slate. its your first time going into something so new without your old bestfriend at your side, but some faint flickering thought reminds you that it might be better that way. but the universe is against you from the very first day, when youre gettin yourself some coffee from the same chain you did the morning of that fateful presentation so many moons ago. you're too busy thinking to yourself what kind of strange parting ritual it is to relive your trauma to notice the lanky, white-haired boy who hits his head on the chiming bell over the doorway. people are giggling around you n sighing dreamily but youre too deep in the music pumping through your headphones to notice and your eyes are glued to the class schedule on your phone, trying to ensure you dont get lost on the first day when—

you blink and your ass is flat on the dirty floor of the coffee shop, and the first thing you register is that your stomach is soaked and burning. you'd spilled your coffee. it takes you a moment to realize, but when you do you're pissed. so you quickly get to your feet, trying to reign in what little of your ego you have left to give the offender who bumped into you a piece of your mind as you look up, then..

how unlucky do you have to be?

just like that, satoru's slid himself back into your life, after ramming through its locked gates. you forget that he always forgets the point of keys, both when it comes to his apartment (which you still have the spare key of in case of emergencies), and the door to your heart. to rub salt in the wound, the only thing that's stained with your coffee order are his shoes, which look like they cost three weeks of your old job salary, but it's all over your shirt. of course it is. because why not? make it look like you tripped and fell into a patch of mud on your way to the lecture hall and tack on an unwelcome reunion with your ex-bestfriend.

to you, it's like the cloud of gloom from your highschool youth has resettled over your head like a swarm of gnats on a dreary, hot summer day. the stars always seem to skew and misalign themselves for you. but for satoru, the stars have handed him one of those huge swirly lollipops that you only ever see being paraded about by toddlers. he recovers almost instantly, trading the burn on his feet and the way it sours your expression like he's just squirted pure citric acid into your throat for a pleasant burn of his own on his cheeks. but it's whatever. girls seem to like it when he blushes, for some reason. he won't question it, if it works on the only one he cares about.

he holds his hand out, ready to help you out like the good samaritan he's become— and it's like a real burn to his heart this time when you ignore it and stand up on your own, refusing to look up and meet his pleading gaze. might as well have taken an iron stoker right out of the fire and jabbed him with it. but he's gojo satoru! he won't be defeated by this one mere, maybe very significant reunion. he's got stamina.

so he offers to buy you a new drink, feels his heart sink when you shake your head (can't even spare a little 'no' in his direction), and talks enough for the both of you when you leave the dingy little store make your way down to campus and the lecture building. you clearly don't want to see him, but he ignores that in exchange to notice the way you shiver every so often. the previously searing-hot coffee that stains your shirt turns cold fast, and moisture n wind don't mix well. he wishes he could offer you some of his own warm coffee, no doubt sickeningly sweet, but he has some sensitivity now, apparently. so, in a brash moment, he decides to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders instead.

when you cross the threshold between city and campus, you expect him to yank it off your back and be on his merry way. but he keeps walking next to you, so you walk a little faster, and you absolutely loathe the cheeky little grin that curves the corners of his lips up to show a glint of teeth when he effortlessly keeps up. you curse his long legs when you find yourself winded, but at least you can lose him when you get there.

or, that's what you think. once again, your constellations break themselves to rebuild anew for satoru. you're about to call him a stalker when he follows you all the way to your classroom with that smirk that's growing exponentially until— oh, no.

your phone that's been on the schedule up until now desperately scrolls to the roster— and there it is. he's in your class. needless to say, not another word goes between you as you stomp in and take a seat. luckily for you, you've already corresponded with your roommate's brother (who's annoyingly cute, satoru notices) and agreed to sit next to each other. satoru takes the seat right above you and never stops kicking his freakishly long legs against the wood the entire time.

so yeah, it's obvious he's not a saint; he still has that undoable ego and he's cocky as fuck (as you have the misfortune of finding out when he quickly bullies your professor), but there's a certain familiarity in that no matter how ugly it might appear to others. and if you asked (which he really, really hopes you will someday), he doesn't hang around douchebags who use kids' foreheads for ashtrays and treat girls like they're candy from a glittery pez dispenser. and at least he's switched harassment targets. even though he has an overwhelming sense of superiority over others and never has his lips together for more than five seconds, and even though he has this hellish habit of clicking his pen whenever he's not talking (or when someone else is), it seems like he's changed.

and over time, you gradually find yourself warming up to him. the spunkiness that used to get on your nerves ceaselessly becomes an object of endearment, and you don't really mind the way he never seems to stop moving anymore. it's a nice sort of distraction in the lifeless still of the lecture hall, albeit the pen clicking still drives you near insanity. you notice he always does it obnoxiously and quickly when you're talking to your roommate's brother, but you ignore it.

and for satoru? he hates that he can kinda sorta really tell that you're the only one who can read him like he's a damn book, cus you slowly start to soften up in the nostalgia of his presence like cold playdough between warm fingers that tell you he may have finally caught you again after letting you slip the first time. and he notices it. this time, he's determined not to let you be the one that got away again. but youre really giving him a shit time outta it with the way you constantly entertain the guy who always has his breath in your face.

yeah, he's got a cute face that's sunkissed by freckles. yeah, his hair looks like he models for shampoo companies. and fuck, he has a nice voice. but what of it? satoru's the one with the mesmerizing blue irises and the cloudy white hair your professor wishes he had instead of sad little wisps of old age. still, as chilly days turn into frigid weeks, he gets the perfect backseat angle of the growing relationship between the two of you. the boy's kinda dumb so you copy off of satoru’s work when you need to (he has to hide the 1-0 scoreboard between him and the guy on a sticky note from you when you take his notes), but said guy’s always buying you stuff and lending you erasers and laughing when you flick the shavings at the annoying girl who never stops whispering in the front of the room.

satoru tries to act unbothered, and he almost convinces everyone. including himself. but the angry, burning knot in his chest that's entirely different from coffee stains suggests something more. that should be him at your side. him, making balls of paper with rude scribbles and silly doodles to throw at the people he knows you don't like. him, surprising you with little gifts and the cheap trinkets he knows you adore so much instead of all the luxury things he could afford. there's no way this punk could possibly measure up to him, right? but at least you and satoru are well on your way to becoming friends again. not as close as you used to be, but it's something. substantial. and he's learned to be patient in the time you've been gone.

but he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't tired of it. he’s endlessly plagued with thoughts of increasing intensity— first, it starts out with just you. only you. the way he likes it. the way he likes your face, and your pretty eyes and your gorgeous lips and your soft hair and your figure and the complimenting clothes you wear. but it takes a turn; thoughts turn into dreams that turn into fantasies and he's lying when he says he doesn't enjoy them when he accidentally lets it slip during a group study session— and it’s all fine— but then, that guy appears. the brat who seems to sit a centimeter closer to you with each coming day. not only does he haunt satoru in real life, he’s tormenting his dreams, too. tainting the image of beautiful you.

needless to say, satoru starts to wake up with his hands gripping his damp pillow like he's choking it, acutely aware of the sweat sliding down his neck and over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dorm's air conditioner run and thinking of what it'd be like for dreams (the ones where he replaces the boy) to become reality.

it's a buildup. and soon, he reaches the apex; it's like a rollercoaster, that stomach-twisting moment when you reach the top of the rail that points to the steep descent downward. but this time, he hopes it's a thrill he gets instead of the usual falling fright; the one he got when he realized he’d slipped between your fingers in highschool.

and satoru finally comes to a grinding halt at the top of the ride one breezy fall day when he decides he wants you back in his life after you smile brightly at him and wave goodbye for the day. he’s tired of you having one foot in and one foot out of his heart; he wants, needs more. he always has, he realizes.

so he’s thinking about you and how to approach the feelings he’s realized during those long lectures, and one morning he comes up with some semblance of a plan when he’s high on the sugar from the fruit tea you bought him that morning. and he hopes that, by the end of it, he'll leave your apartment with your hand in his currently empty one, chilled with the remnants of cold condensation from the bottle.

soon enough, satoru finds himself extinguishing his nerves and raising a tense fist to knock on the door with nothing but the clothes on his back and a flimsy plan to ask you out on a midterm study sesh and maybe even a date, but he stops when he realizes it’s slightly ajar. a brief thought of what look might be on your face when he surprises you crosses his mind, so he lets himself in quietly, because he knows every single floorboard that creaks like the back of his palm from his childhood. he’s hit with a wave of warmth and an achingly familiar scent that twists at his heart, and your apartment is cozy and safe and it screams you and he thinks he catches sight of his jacket slung across the back of the couch in your living room, but he’s not sure so he takes a step forward and—

he’s greeted with the sight of that stupid guy with the nice hair and the freckles, and it makes his heart drop. but even worse, he’s kissing you and his arms are winding around your waist but you’re kissing him back with a slight hesitation that’s blinded to satoru by his shock and the fingers he thought would end up in his own tonight card through the boy’s hair and your lips glisten with the strawberry-kiwi flavored gloss he watched the boy give you a few days back and his world is turning red and he feels like his throat is constricting and he can’t breathe—

and he doesn’t even realize you’ve parted lips and you’re calling his name through the newfound tightness of his chest and the painful ringing in his ears thats even louder than any silence of a lecture hall, or the void that should’ve been filled with your voice during the time you were apart. but now satoru realizes he’d take that any fucking chance to have that again because it’s so much better than what he’s stuck with now. having you, but not really having you, because you’re there but you’re someone else’s and you’re not his and he isn’t yours. the best thing he could ever hope for was for you to own an article of his clothing and a piece of his shattered heart, broken into a million fragments. some cruel voice in his buzzing head reminds him to change the scoreboard to 0-100.

and he could buy you cheap hot coffee or earn your smiles from scrunched up paper balls or even hear your laugh with crude jokes, but there’s no point when he realizes he can’t buy you with caffeine or earn you with hitting the back of people’s heads with his bio notes or have you and your laugh all to himself anymore.

it’s almost pathetic, the way satoru’s voice cracks and changes. the look of unadulterated concern on the face of the boy who stole your lips just adds fuel to the fire.

“gojo? what are you doing here— hey, are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

he noticed you’d stopped calling him satoru a few weeks back. he should’ve seen it coming.

“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good. i think you’re the one hallucinating.”

he’d never told a bigger lie in his life.

satoru had left after excusing himself for intruding. how very unlike him to be so polite, you think.

so in the end, he leaves your apartment with something in his hand, after all. but it's not your own— just his blazer that you’d given back to him before he stepped out the door, taunting him with the faint scent of coffee and lingering perfume. his hope was foolish, so it seems. it’s too bad, he thinks. if it were him, he would’ve sandwiched you against your counter while he kissed. but it wasn’t. apparently, it was your turn for your stars to align at the price of his.

and so, gojo satoru, the boy force-turned man with a chipped ego and a completely broken heart, loses you again.

bonus bonus.. part 2….

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hollowdeath · 4 months

Text

professor potter

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)

summary: 2 years after the war, harry accepted a position as a substitute professor at hogwarts and recognized you from his years as a student. old feelings come to the surface as you both try to remain professional to keep his position safe.

content warning: slight teacher/student dynamic (they used to be classmates, reader is 18+), mostly slow burn & angst. smut mostly doesn't happen til the end (masturbation, penetration)

word count: 12.5k

a/n: wrote this for fun between working on requests! thank you to everyone who sends them in, they're so good and i'm excited to post more soon! just another fluffy, angsty harry fic taking place in school w a hint of smut...kinda similar to my last one but thats ok ! as always not exactly book/movie/canon accurate i apologize !

it's your first day of your last year at hogwarts, and you're probably the only student here that's not completely thrilled to be back. young witches and wizards running around you in the halls with their robes dragging on the ground, completely in awe with each other at the architecture and moving portraits.

you have to admit, if hogwarts does anything right, it's the ambience. probably the only thing you'll miss after leaving this year is the magic castle itself, particularly the library and your dorm room, which have been your sanctuaries for the past 7 years. there's just no place in the world, even the wizarding world, you've found, that quite compares to hogwarts.

but no, unfortunately, not even the grandiose castle of every young wizard's dream was enough to make you want to stay here even a day longer than you had to. and trust, you were counting down the days.

there was a lot that went into your disdain for the school. after the war in your 5th year, nothing had been the same. sure, the building was restored to its original form and even had some upgrades installed, but the energy within the walls felt so…unsettling.

it had been more than 2 and half years since then, and most students who remember the war well had either graduated or moved on from it. you, however, continued to feel the effects of it every day.

you've had a lot of personal struggles since then mentally, which affects your social life. you've overheard your friends talking about how they don't feel like you're the same person and you inevitably bring them down. it wasn't long after that they stopped talking to you completely. you didn't bother to rekindle the connection; you were ready to leave this place behind anyways, what was the point in faking a friendship for another year?

even without all that, you truly just hated your classes. you actually used to be a scholar student in your day, consistently making the top of the headmaster's list every year until the war. and you still loved headmaster mcgonagall, of course, you don't think that'd ever change, it was mainly the other professors that gave you a hard time. once you showed signs of struggling and burn out, it was like they just completely gave up on you and moved on to the next eager, bright-eyed bushy-tailed 1st year to dote on.

no matter, because again, you were ready to leave for a variety of reasons. even if you had loved your professors and graduated at the top of the class, you still had no friends to celebrate with. and even if you had those so-called "friends" back in your life, you still felt completely alone with them.

and so you laid in bed, the same bed you've had for 7 years now, retracting the ornate trim on the ceiling like you have a million nights before.

you decided to look back at your schedule once more, floating the paper out of its folder in your bag and towards your open hand. you read through it slowly, but nothing had changed. pretty much the worst line up of classes you've had so far. particularly your least anticipated course, defense against the dark arts.

at this point, you'd had more than enough when it came to the dark arts. those death eaters nearly killed you in that war, and actually did manage to kill too many of your classmates and teachers in the process. you saw your second home crumble in front of you, classrooms you grew up in completely leveled and the bridge burned to the ground, so much death and destruction over nothing but power. you resented the dark magic in this world.

sighing, you set the paper down on your bedside table and roll over, attempting to fall asleep. you have plenty of early classes this year and don't look forward to having to wake up with the sun to make it to them on time.

you're wasting time in the bathroom just before your defense against the dark arts, your last class of the day, when your peace is interrupted by a group of girls who come in giggling and talking rapidly amongst each other. from inside your stall you can't help but tune into their gossip. it's the only thing you could hear and, who cares, you could use some good drama.

you tried to dissect their conversation but they were constantly talking over each other, squealing, giggling, and you couldn't understand a thing. after a few moments of craning your neck towards the door to get a better listen, one girl's voice stood out amongst the rest as she asked, "okay, but, who's going to try and flirt with potter first?" her question was followed by many desperate "me!" "me!" "me!"s, a wave of giggling following.

potter. there's no way…

the bells begin ringing, signaling your next class is starting soon, and the girls go rushing out of the bathroom together. you slowly open the stall door and walk to the closest mirror. pale, like you've seen a ghost.

they couldn't possibly be talking about harry potter, right?

just his name had become plenty famous in its own right. the boy who lived; the boy who lived twice. you hadn't heard his name mentioned in a long time, though that's not hard when you've hardly interacted with anyone here in a long time.

you remembered harry from your years before the war that you had shared with him. he was 2 years ahead of you, so it wasn't often you had the chance to speak with him, but he was pretty much as legendary as one student could be at hogwarts. however, whenever you did manage to have a conversation with him, you always thought he was cute. really cute.

okay, so maybe you had a ginormous crush on him your entire time at hogwarts. but so did pretty much every other girl. but you didn't just think he was cute, you admired his gentle nature and timid personality. despite his heroic and outright dangerous adventures, he was always so kind, so humble…

the bells begin ringing again, meaning you're now late to class. "shit." you mutter, grabbing your bag and stumbling through the bathroom door.

you're jogging to your dark arts class with a racing mind, still wondering why those girls would mention potter's name so randomly.

you turn the corner and see the classroom door is already closed. "shit." you mutter again, stomping your foot. now you have to open the heavy doors and draw everyone's attention towards you, quite literally the last thing in the world you want right now.

sighing, you push open one of the doors, making the loudest noises you've ever heard echo throughout the silent classroom. you walk in and, as expected, all eyes are on you.

you grit your teeth and close the door behind you, making your way towards an empty seat in the middle of the room. the silence lingers as your footsteps hit the ground, trying your best not to make eye contact with anyone. you hear a few snickers and whispers coming from behind, and you can already tell it's your old friend group. you roll your eyes, sighing as you drop your weight into the creaky wooden seat.

you hadn't realized, but headmaster mcgonagall was at the front of the room. you noticed once she continued talking, looking up to see her smiling at you. you returned it. you love how she's always liked you despite your grades slipping lately.

you quickly look back down at your hands as people begin to turn away from you, drawing their attention back to mcgonagall as she continues to introduce the class.

"like i was saying, class, we apologize for the change this semester and hope you'll be understanding of us as we navigate this situation carefully. i suspect you'll all be respectful and courteous to our guest as he donates his time to hogwarts and to you, our students."

you look back up, a confused look on your face. what change? what situation? what guest?

it didn't take you long to connect the dots. it's like everything was in slow motion. the girls talking in the bathroom, the guest, the reason all the front rows of seats in class were completely filled with girls…

"please, class, welcome hogwarts' very own, mr. harry james potter."

all at once, your eyes landed on harry, who had been sitting to the side, obscured from your vision by several girls and a pillar. as he walks towards mcgonagall, eager applause erupt from the girls and the boys offer mediocre claps. you're too stunned to react, watching harry intently as he shakes mcgonagall's hand with that same timid smile.

you can hardly believe your eyes. what is going on? why is he here? and how the hell does he look even better now than he did 2 years ago?

"thank you, headmaster mcgonagall," harry says shyly, turning to the students. his eyes immediately fall on you. you try to convince yourself he's looking just in front of you or even past you, but you can feel his stare into your eyes. its the only thing that breaks you out of your shock.

you blink a few times and slump into your seat, feeling your blood run cold at harry's eye contact. he looks down at the desk he's standing at and shuffles a few papers. you sink even lower into your chair. this can't be good.

"uh, well, hello…everyone," harry says awkwardly, earning some flirtatious giggles from the girls just ahead of you. "it's a pleasure to be here, really, despite the circumstances. uh, i'm sure as some of you know…i've been very close with the weasley family for years and feel devastated for bill– uh, professor weasley, that is," harry corrects himself nervously, clearing his throat and glancing at his papers again.

"and when he reached out to me personally, specifically me out of anyone, to teach in his place for this semester, i couldn't say no to him. so, while it's a real honor to be here with you all, please know it's just for this semester and then professor weasley will be back to continue with the lesson plan in the spring," harry explains, looking around the room yet always letting his eyes land on you specifically with a lingering gaze.

harry goes into the schedule for the semester, the skills you'll be learning, and, well, you can't really focus on what else because you're just completely lost in your own head.

harry potter, the harry potter, is your professor for an entire semester.

you were completely dumbfounded. he couldn't hardly be older than 20 years old at this point. he had only left hogwarts just 2 years prior, yet he looked so different. though the glasses and hair stayed relatively the same, he had matured in the face. a slight beard, defined smile lines, and he'd definitely spent some time in the gym…

seeing him in a button up with his old gryffindor tie on drove you mad. is he really getting you worked up in the middle of class by just standing there? you feel like you're 14 again, staring him down in the courtyard from behind a tree.

it doesn't help that you swear he keeps looking at you. specifically you. his gaze is unmistakable at this point, it can't be a coincidence.

you try to stop yourself from having these thoughts and physical reactions. if he's going to be your professor for an entire semester you have to get over this silly crush that was never going to work out anyway. though you're soon turning 19, it makes no difference if he's working with the school, it would never be allowed…

what are you even saying? as if anything would ever happen except in your dreams. all you're going to do is lust for him until christmas and then he'll be gone again, his name nothing but a spoken legend again.

before you can process all he's said, harry announces that everyone's free to leave once you grab a textbook from him. girls are immediately standing up and running to get in line, and the boys are rolling their eyes as they sluggishly follow behind.

you're inevitably the last one, getting a headache as you listen to girls try to ask harry all kinds of questions for a bit of his attention. he mostly just gives simple answers or laughs them off, referring back to the class or the textbook he was handing them in some way to change the subject.

mcgonagall eventually shoos the girls away, which harry thanks her for in a low tone. he hands a book to each of the boys in front of you before it comes down to you. as the boy in front of you is being escorted away by mcgonagall, you briefly catch harry putting the library card of your book inside the front cover before he closes it.

your eyes connect as he hands the book to you, but he doesn't let go. your heart instantly flutters.

"it's nice to see you again, [y/n]," he says softly, letting the weight of the book fall in your hands.

the way he says your name has you frozen in place. his pretty blue eyes have stayed just as mesmerizing. it takes a moment before you're able to wrap the book in your arms, offering him a friendly smile as you softly reply, "you too, harry…"

you're quickly making your way back to your room with the biggest, cheesiest smile plastered on your face. he remembered you. you had barely ever interacted with harry, only a handful of times as far as you could remember, and you were sure he had completely forgotten about you, or at least forgotten your name. you tried to chalk it up to him having access to the attendance records of the class and reading over your name, but you still felt like a giddy school girl skipping along day dreaming about her crush.

when you got back to your dorm, you set the class textbook down on your desk and went to turn around before looking back at it longingly. harry had just put the library card back in the book before handing it off to you. you were most likely crazy, but something inside you was insanely curious to see if he had done something to the card.

you slowly opened the book and took the card out, a blank piece of cardstock except for a fresh label printed at the top. you sigh, almost putting it back before seeing something on the card catch the shimmer of the light.

you give the card a curious look. you turn it in your hands towards the light, trying to see what's on it. before giving up in frustration, a thought comes into your brain.

no…

you dig into your luggage, still unpacked from the day prior, looking for your old ink and quill. once you find them you come back to the card, setting it on your desk as you open the ink pot. you dip your quill in the ink and touch it to the spot you noticed earlier.

as you watched, the ink collected into letters and numbers, forming a message across the dotted lines of the check out columns. you were stunned. harry actually wrote to you in disappearing ink? you thought you were delusional thinking it was a possibility, but here was the proof plain as day:

[y/n],

hagrid's, 8:30pm

harry

you kept rereading the lines over and over before they slowly disappeared, fading away into the paper. you stood back in pure disbelief. what does this mean? obviously it means he wants to meet with you, but for the life of you you just can't figure out why. you two barely knew one another personally, it had been two years since you'd seen or heard of each other again, and now he's secretly inviting you to hagrid's after hours using disappearing ink? as your substitute professor, too…

from 5-8 pm you mainly paced around your room in both lingering disbelief and unbridled excitement. though you had no idea why harry had invited you out in secret, you were anxious just to be in his presence at his request.

you spent forever deciding on your outfit, feeling a bit silly for putting so much effort into this suspicious rendezvous that you were still clueless about.

sneaking out had become somewhat natural to you over the years. you knew all the blind spots of the castle and could hear a prefect coming from a mile away. you were out of your room and walking down to hagrid's completely unnoticed in less than 10 minutes.

on your way down the hill, your mind is racing with possibilities of what this meeting could entail.

arriving at hagrid's hut, you admire the warm glow of the windows and intoxicating smell coming from the smoking chimney – a mix of wood and garlic. hagrid's pumpkins are just beginning to plump up, his yard scattered with overgrown vines.

as you walk up to the door, a wave of anxiety hits you. knocking seems like the most impossible task in the world all of a sudden.

you steady your breathing, let your heart rate slow, and knock before you have the chance to stop yourself.

a few seconds of some rustling can be heard behind the door before it swings open. harry greets you with a warm smile. no longer dressed for class, harry looks quite adorable in a comfy sweater and baggy jeans standing before you in the hut.

"[y/n], you got my message," he says, clearly impressed. you couldn't believe this was real. he really did leave you that note on purpose. just hearing him acknowledge it made your heart race all over again.

"i-i did," you say in shock, searching his expression for an answer to all your questions. why are you here?

harry gestures for you to come in. "well, join me, please," he insists. you politely smile and enter the hut, the smell of food making your mouth water immediately. "smells amazing in here," you comment under your breath.

harry closes the door, looking back at you with a shy smile. "oh, thank you. it's for us, actually." he tells you, nodding his head towards the dining table.

completely set up with a tablecloth, harry has food plated for the two of you on the tiny table, along with tea still steaming on the stove.

"if you don't mind, of course," he checks with you, his voice soft and unsure. you look back at harry, barely able to grasp what's happening before you reply, "of course,"

he suppresses a grin as he gestures to the table once more. "please," he prompts you. you hand him your bag and jacket before taking your seat at the table, admiring the food he prepared for you. you're still lost in thought when harry asks, "tea?" holding the kettle from the stove.

"please, thank you," you reply. he pours you both cups of tea before bringing them to the table with a smile on his face.

as you're eating you notice a record playing in the corner you hadn't heard earlier. it fills the space nicely as you both take your first bites of dinner. "hope you like it, i wasn't sure what to make," he says nervously.

wiping your lips with a napkin, you simply tell him, "it's lovely,"

after another moment or so, harry sits back in his chair. "so…[y/n]..." he sighs. hearing him say your name like that makes your brain fuzzy for just a second before he speaks again. "you're probably, um, wondering why…"

you stifle a laugh at his stalling, getting a hint of confidence as you interrupt him. "wondering why professor potter secretly invited me to have a home cooked dinner with him?"

harry goes still, his eyes searching your expression as a blush grows over his cheeks. he swallows nervously, blinking and shaking his head before attempting to respond. "u-um, yeah, that,"

smirking, enjoying his nerves, you wait for his explanation with your arms crossed and a raised brow. he clears his throat and diverts his eyes from your gaze. he takes a sip of tea before smacking his lips and looking back at you.

"i just, i haven't seen you…" he starts, eyes softening at you. "i-i know we didn't talk much, but…i always cared for you." the last part was hard for harry to get out, a weight lifting off his shoulders in the process.

you were blushing, but more than that you were sweating. this is like something you would dream about as a kid. hell, even just earlier today…

"when i saw you today…in class…" he seemed uncomfortable referencing that. "i just…a lot of memories came back to me," his hands move with him nervously as he speaks.

he sighs and stands up, his body language clearly stressed. you haven't said a word, you simply can't. what could you possibly say?

harry's facing the fireplace, his head in his hands. "look, i just, now that i'm your professor this semester i just think…" he takes a moment to find the words before turning to you. "i had a crush on you. okay? there. god damn it," harry huffs angrily, rolling his head back as he throws his hands down.

"i had a crush on you for like 3 years, it was stupid, and i don't want it to affect my teaching with you. so…i guess i practically set up a fucking date to tell you this, sent hagrid away for the evening for nothing…" he gestures to the table, sighing in defeat.

you're stunned into silence, to say the least. there aren't words to describe what's going on in your head at this moment.

after a moment harry looks back at you, his gaze softening once again. "[y/n]...please understand i wouldn't be telling you any of this unless i thought there was another way i could deal with it. when i saw you today…it was like i was 16 again," a small smile creeps onto his face before he wipes it away.

"and if i didn't tell you now, it's all i would've thought about when i saw you, so…yeah. there." harry says with a huff, avoiding eye contact with you.

before you can even process what's going on, your body reacts for you. you stand up, walking over to harry, getting his attention off the floor. he looks at you almost with fear in his eyes at how close you are. you sigh shakily before speaking.

"harry…u-um, professor potter…" you correct yourself. "please, just, harry…for now at least," harry insisted, his eyes apologetic.

"harry…" you say, suppressing a grin. "you don't have to worry. really…um, it was definitely mutual, to put it lightly…"

harry gives you a surprised look. "really?"

you roll your eyes, taking a step away from him and towards the fire, enjoying the warmth. "harry, you forget who you are sometimes. essentially every girl i knew had a crush on you at one point."

harry's a little flustered at this statement, also taking a step closer to the fire, and towards you. "i-i wouldn't say that, i was definitely not that lucky back in the day," he jokes.

"so those girls that were practically all over you during class today…?" you tease him. "'oh, professor potter, what can i do to get a good grade?'" you mock their voices, giving him puppy dog eyes as you lean towards him before laughing and turning towards the fire. "is that not luck?" you ask with your arms crossed, a smirk hiding your slight jealousy.

harry's silent for a few moments before you look over at him. you see his eyes dark and fixated on you for just a second before he blinks and shakes his head at you, also turning to the fire. "please. they're children. they crush on any slightly older guy they see."

you roll your eyes again at his denial. "some of them were my age, well on their way to being 19. but, whatever you say."

the fire crackles in front of you two, filling the space and creating a warm glow. "besides…none of them are you." harry says. you look over at him, and he's lost staring at the fire. he feels you looking at him and quickly corrects himself. "i mean, nobody was like you, at least to me, back then…" he trails off awkwardly, wincing at his own choice of words.

you adore his nervous antics. he's just the same sweet, timid boy you remember, except he's a bit taller with a 5 o'clock shadow and looks gorgeous in the glow of a fireplace right now.

"i've really mucked this night up, haven't i? i was supposed to tell you about the crush calmly and professionally, with no inappropriate comments, and send you on your way into the night with your first reading in the textbook…" harry sighs, giving you a pathetic look.

"well…" you start. "your first mistake was probably leaving me a secret note, and cooking me a wonderful dinner," you gesture towards the table. harry lets out a pathetic laugh, shaking his head. "yeah, probably."

you don't know why you feel the need to, but you instinctively grab for harry's hand. he gives you a surprised, scared look.

you try to reassure him with a soft smile. "harry, i appreciate you telling me. i hope it can make this semester easier for you."

harry smiles in return, but it's not genuine. he looks like he's holding back from letting you know how he really feels.

regardless, he invited you two to finish up your food, laughing as you both attempted to resume casual conversation without the awkward air.

surprisingly, the two of you naturally begin to talk up a storm, reminiscing on memories and catching up on what's happened since then. harry tells you about his career as an auror and his experiences that lead him to being able to teach defense against the dark arts. when professor weasley's wife had died of sudden illness, the only person he wanted to take his place was harry.

you're hesitant to tell him about your lack of eventful news, practically hiding your face in embarrassment as you admit that your grades have been suffering since the war.

harry put a reassuring hand on your knee, his chair pushed closer to you. you had both long since finished dinner and just talked, enjoying the fire as harry continued to feed it wood every so often.

you looked up at him, melting at how adorable his tired eyes looked through his glasses. "i get it. trust me." he tells you. his voice puts you at ease, and you don't feel quite as embarrassed as before.

"maybe this semester i could help you. if you'd like, of course," harry offers. you smile. "of course."

as you're slowly making your way towards the door to leave, harry watches you search through your bag to find chapstick. as you're putting it on, he continues to watch you. you sneak a glance at him, his face soft and full of admiration.

"you know, if i may say, in the least inappropriate manner possible…" he says with a laugh, causing you to laugh with him. "you have truly only gotten more beautiful after all this time, [y/n]."

looking over at him, you can feel your face form a cheesy grin with blushing cheeks. "well, thank you, that's very kind," you say, putting your chapstick away and taking another step towards the door. "but, really, i should be saying the same about you."

harry waves you away, but you notice the smile planted on his cheeks. "please," he says sarcastically.

he reaches for the door to open it for you, and finds himself rather close to you by accident. you smile up at him, and he nervously steps back.

"u-uh, thank you for coming tonight, really, even if it was a bit weird…" harry says, an embarrassed laugh following. giggling with him, you take a step outside. "it was nice. but, no more invisible ink. just ask me from now on, okay?" you ask, still giggling at him.

harry shakes his head at himself. "will do."

you give him a warm smile before reaching in for a one-arm hug, resting your head on harry's shoulder for just a second before pulling back. "i'll see you tomorrow, professor potter."

enjoying the shocked and flustered look on his face, you walk away still laughing, making your way up the hill and towards the castle. you heard the door shut behind you quickly after you left, but could feel harry's lingering eyes following you through the window the entire way back.

that night you're laying in bed trying to convince yourself everything that just happened wasn't a dream. if it weren't for your full stomach and muddy shoes sitting by your door you might've convinced yourself it really was all an illusion. rather than dreading the next day of classes, you're actually excited to wake up as it only means you'll see harry sooner.

though you're not sure exactly why. yes you'd had a friendly conversation with him tonight after he admitted his feelings towards you, which still hasn't quite settled in yet…but what happens now? he's still your professor for the next 5 months minimum, and you both know you used to like each other. harry might feel better getting it off his chest, but you were perfectly fine keeping that secret to yourself like you always had. if anything, now it's the only thing you're going to think about every day.

rolling over, you try to fall asleep without thinking about harry too much.

it had been a few weeks since you met with harry that night in hagrid's hut, and things were going…okay, so far.

well, to be completely honest, you had utterly fallen back into your crush on harry harder than you ever had before.

and you tried to stop yourself this time. really, you did. working with harry in class and then stopping by his office at least 3 times a week for his help in other classes was a lot of time to be spending with a professor, and you rather despised just how fast harry made your heart beat or how easily his eyes could distract you.

so you tried your best to convince yourself it was lingering feelings from your past self, even trying to have a crush on other boys in your year to distract your brain. that failed miserably. none of those boys were attractive or interesting on their own, especially in comparison to professor potter…

but you couldn't fool yourself. you still felt the same butterflies seeing harry now like you did in 5th year. when he's talking to you in the quiet of his office, reading your textbook to you, you feel like the only two people in the world. when he fixes your hands to hold the wand properly, or moves your arm for you in the correct pattern to cast a spell, you can't focus for the rest of class. if his eyes linger on you just a bit too long during one of his lectures, a knowing smile growing on his face, you melt in your seat.

there was no denying it. you liked him more now than you ever had before. maybe it's just the sheer amount of time you've spent with him this past month or so, but your feelings for him had never been this strong in the past. there were days where he was quite literally the only thing you thought about, or at least wanted to think about. though you were doing better in your other classes, it was only because of him. you spent barely any outside time putting effort into these classes because, ultimately, you were completely distracted by harry.

and not just the idea of him, but particularly the growing tension you had noticed between you two recently.

you also tried to convince yourself that this was going on in your head. but there were just too many instances of prolonged eye contact, harry sitting a bit too close to you during your tutoring sessions, and lingering hands on your skin that made you question if harry maybe wasn't entirely over his crush either…

not that you tried to make it easy for him. since the semester started, you've been taking some extra time each morning to perfect your hair/makeup, put on your favorite perfumes on days you knew you'd be close to harry, and would even change your outfit completely when going to study with him outside of your school robes to give you a boost of confidence.

not that you needed the boost. lately you could only feel confident in yourself and nothing less. something about learning your life long crush who seemed so unattainable also had feelings for you, and could possibly still, made you feel untouchable. not to mention that any girl you heard talk about him or swoon over him in class just made you laugh to yourself; they had no idea you were with him alone for hours every week goofing off together as he attempted to help you study.

this confidence made its way into other parts of your day outside of harry as well. you were talking more in class, making a few new friends, even going to parties and outings just for the fun of it. you were actually enjoying your time at hogwarts instead of dreading every day. not all because of harry, but it definitely didn't hurt to consider him a friend.

a friend. a professor. an old classmate. a crush. a temporary fixation. your relationship to harry, in your mind, seemed so complicated and sometimes incredibly frustrating. especially when he seemed to flirt with you so subtly. you couldn't stand the, 'is he, isn't he' thoughts. but, at the same time, it just made you more motivated to push the limits to see how he responded.

of course it started with looking good, enjoying his reaction seeing you each day with a small smile and blushing cheeks. then it was making flirtatious jokes and purposefully giving him innocent looks while he rambled about whatever subject to get him flustered and distracted. and, lately, you've stepped it up by wearing shorter and shorter skirts whenever you stop by his office, and have even caught him looking at your legs a number of times when he thinks you're not paying attention.

all this to say, there was definitely tension.

you had to admit you felt a bit guilty, you knew harry valued his position as a substitute professor and was enjoying his time there, and you would feel awful if anything ever happened to cost him this position. he told you about his crush specifically to alleviate it, and your only goal this semester has been to do the opposite.

but, at the same time, you wouldn't act this way if harry didn't also create tension between you two. he also made overtly flirty jokes and comments, even seeming a tad bit jealous whenever you mentioned another boy during your time together. and you weren't stupid, you could tell when he wore the cologne you complimented one time when you were around or had even changed from his school clothes before you came to see him. there was definitely something unspoken going on between the two of you, but you were both afraid of crossing that line and making things complicated. besides, if anything, you both seemed to enjoy this game you were playing of teasing each other in private and then acting normally during class as student and teacher.

honestly, you found it to be insanely erotic, and were more turned on in class than any other time you were with harry due to the secretive nature of everything. his longing gaze as you walk in, his nervous glances towards specifically you, the shift in his voice from talking to one student to talking to you, it was all so subtle yet in plain view. something about wanting what you can't have only made you want it more.

on this particular day, you had been with harry for over two hours studying for an exam for a class you had been struggling with all semester, even with harry's help. you were frustrated, laying your head in your arms with your textbook in front of you, groaning as harry chuckled at you.

"c'mon, [y/n], you've got this. i mean, you did just fine on this last practice test, better than you have all semester really," harry comments, pulling the paper out of your folder. you lift your head up, giving him a mean look. "i got a 75. barely." you deadpan.

"yes, and that's better than what you have been getting." harry stated, trying to hide a smirk. you throw a crumpled up paper at him. "stop, that's not funny," you whine, also trying to hide your laugh.

chuckling, harry stands up and walks towards the bookshelf in his office. "look, i'm just trying to be encouraging here," he says over his shoulder as he scans the rows of books.

you try to get back to your work, but you're just so utterly confused and upset that you close the book with a huff and lean back in your seat with an exasperated expression. harry hears this and turns to you, giving you a sympathetic smile.

he walks back over, picking up the book in front of you and setting it in your bag. "here, we can be done for today. it's not good to push yourself past your limit."

you sigh as you push back the urge to tear up. "sometimes i just feel so stupid," you say in a soft, despondent voice, staring off into the window across from harry's desk.

harry's watching you intently, and nearly drops to his knees as he crouches beside your chair and catches your eyes in his. "hey, you're not stupid. quite the opposite, actually." he says with a genuine voice. you look away, still not believing him.

"really, [y/n], and i'm not saying this as your professor. back in school i was constantly listening to hermione go on and on about your intelligence and class rank. she was incredibly impressed and slightly envious that someone 2 years below her was actually providing some competition at this school." harry says with a laugh.

you can't help but blush like crazy at this confession. hermione had been your academic inspiration for all of your time at hogwarts, and even still now despite your declining lack of effort. you'd had quite a few conversations with her in the past about classes and certain books or authors you both enjoyed, but had no idea she thought that highly of you.

mulling over this information in your head, harry continued to grab your attention with a soft smile and loving eyes. "you're not stupid. different things are harder for different people. you'll get there, and i'll help you. okay?" he asks.

you smile back at him. "okay."

slowly packing up to leave, you and harry both take your time to gather your supplies as you chat about your respective plans for the weekend. you casually mention a party you were thinking of going to. harry perks up at this. "a party?" he asks, a twinge of concern laced in his voice.

you give him a look. "yeah, ever heard of it?" you ask sarcastically, laughing to yourself. "i guess it's one of the slytherin boys' birthdays, or something like that," you wave off, throwing your bag over your shoulder. "apparently it's going to be massive,"

harry continues looking at you with a hint of concern. "well, just…be safe, yeah?" harry comments, his voice uneasy. you laugh at him again, looking at him incredulously. "yes, professor potter, i'll be careful," you tease him. you know harry gets a little squirmy when you call him that outside of class, and it never fails to make you feel powerful.

"besides, i heard the theme is dress to impress, so you already know i'm gonna look so good," you joke, flipping your hair dramatically. harry's tenseness breaks, letting out a chuckle. "well, still. just…be safe." is all he manages to say as you walk with him to the door.

saying your goodbyes as you separate down the hall, you can still feel harry's eyes on you until you disappear around the corner.

the night of the party, you were still unsure if you wanted to go. when a couple girls from class saw you and asked if you were going, they ended up convincing you to come with them. so, you got changed into a flashy dress that fit you well, fixed up your hair and makeup a bit, and met them in the courtyard to walk to the slytherin common room together. they obsessively commented on your outfit, telling you just how good you looked and letting you know you'd have no problem finding a guy to snog tonight.

but, you don't want any guy tonight. if anything, you were walking slowly through the hallways hoping by some chance that harry would cross your path and see just how good you looked. but you knew you weren't that lucky.

upon arriving at the party, drinks are immediately pushed into your and your friends' hands. they were right about the party being massive, as every square foot of the slytherin common room was packed with slightly tipsy students of all ages dancing to the loud music. you had barely finished your first drink before your friends dragged you over to do shots with them, wincing at the burn it left in your throat afterwards.

as the night goes on, you're eventually separated from all the girls you came with. not on purpose, some of them were playing drinking games, some were dancing, and one had even left the party with a guy she was completely into. no hard feelings, everyone was just doing their own thing. you had a few shouting-over-the-music conversations with a couple classmates and drank another cup of the mysterious alcoholic punch being served before deciding to head back to your room. you informed one of your friends, who asked if you wanted her to come with you, but you insisted she stay.

entering the hallway is extremely sobering. the loud music and colorful lights made it easy to ignore the growing drunken sensation, but you were now nervously navigating the halls of hogwarts, slightly intoxicated, attempting to warm yourself up with your hands over your arms. you hadn't even thought to bring a jacket, of course, so you were shivering as you made your way back to your room.

not long after leaving the party, you turn the corner and come face to face with another person. a boy a year under you, though you couldn't remember his name or anything else about him. you're a bit startled, not expecting to see anyone else, but politely apologize and attempt to walk around him.

"hey. you were at the party, right?" he asks, stepping in front of you to prevent you from leaving. you're slightly annoyed by him already, but your intoxicated state makes you bite your tongue. "yeah, just on my way back to my room," you try to end the conversation there, taking another step to get around him.

but he gets in your way again, stepping even closer to you this time. "what's the rush? y'know you had every guy talkin' in there tonight? sure would be nice to take home the prize," he slurs into your face, your nose scrunching at his alcoholic breath. god, this kid's way more wasted than you.

"excuse me?" you scoff, turning your face away from him. he tries to put his hand on your waist but you slap it away as hard as you can, causing him to wince and give you an angry look. "i suggest you leave me the fuck alone," you announce firmly, stancing your feet apart as you get ready to defend yourself further.

just as this guy's about to try again, this time his hands going for your neck, a voice from down the hall echoes loudly, scaring you both. "hey!"

you both turn, and it's harry.

"i would further suggest you leave her alone, mr. williams," he announces as he swiftly walks towards you. the kid laughs him off. "mind your business, huh, potter? this doesn't involve you," he continues to slur, looking like he wants to fight as harry walks up to him, chest to chest.

"it does now. leave and you'll be lucky i don't have you expelled or rather arrested for sexually assaulting a fellow student on campus grounds after hours, while intoxicated might i add," harry spits at him, his eyes full of disgust and rage.

the kid falters a bit, but the alcohol still has him acting cocky, getting in harry's face. "yeah? or what," he asks daringly.

you get between them and put your wand, hidden in your dress, against the kid's throat, making him stiff with wide eyes. "touch him and i will gladly get expelled for hurting you in ways you couldn't even conceive of in your fucking nightmares. do you understand? get the fuck out of here!" you nearly shout at the kid, causing him to turn and run.

you sigh a breath of relief, but quickly begin to feel the anxiety return as you bring your wand down and look at harry.

you can feel your body shaking with anger and fear, and also shivering from how cold you hadn't realized you'd gotten. your cheeks were flushed, your breathing uneven, and nearly on the verge of tears. harry's eyes were still angry, but he gave you a sympathetic look. he promptly took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shivering frame, enveloping you in a hug in the process. it's hard not to let the tears flow just a bit as you rest your head in his chest. you felt so vulnerable with him in that moment.

"here, let's get you back to your room, yeah?" harry says softly, turning your shoulders and guiding you down the hall. you realize you had sobered up during the ordeal, your eyes focusing and walking straightening out as you follow the corridors. once harry begins guiding you down your hallway, you slow to look up at him with a curious expression.

"how do you know where my room is?"

harry's a bit stunned by your question, searching for an answer before you began to think more. "and, wait," you stop walking and turn to him. "how did you even find me?" you ask breathlessly. harry continues to look guilty as he searches for an answer. smirking, you pull his jacket on you closer.

"professor potter, if i didn't know better, i'd say you were watching me tonight," you tease him in a flirty voice. "surely that's not the case, is it?"

harry looks around you two nervously, clearly starting to feel anxious for his actions. all you could do was smirk. you knew he still liked you.

harry sighs, avoiding your eye contact with a completely red face. "look, i just had a bad feeling about that party, okay?" he says simply. you continue to stare at him with a knowing look. "i couldn't sleep tonight knowing something could've happened to you. something like that fucking kid…" harry gets worked up just thinking about it again before stopping himself and calming down. "i'm sorry. it was wrong of me, and completely inappropriate."

your smirk drops into a soft smile. you can't help but feel your stomach erupt into butterflies hearing him admit he was watching you tonight specifically to make sure you were safe.

you softly put your hand to his cheek, causing him to look at you. he looks apologetic, concerned, and sad, his eyes searching yours as he slightly leans into your touch.

"thank you, harry." you say just above a whisper, your voice genuine and loving.

he sighs again, a bit relieved, a bit sad. his hand goes for yours, holding it for just a moment before he gives it back to you, letting go as he looks towards your door.

"well," he starts off, his voice cracking. "i'll leave you here for the night,"

smiling, you nod and take a step towards your door. you slip his jacket off of you and hand it back to him with a grateful, warm smile. he returns the smile as you're opening your door and waving goodbye at him.

as you're getting ready for bed, you replay the events of tonight over and over. you imagine harry watching you leave your room without you having any clue, meeting up with your friends, leaving the party in a daze, attempting to escape that guy before harry decided he had to step in and protect you.

you felt a bit silly for ever thinking harry's crush on you had stopped. even his subtle clues weren't very subtle thinking back now. maybe back in year 5 you assumed you were crazy for thinking he was looking at you funny, but now, nearing 3 years later, and learning he's liked you the whole time, you couldn't deny his longing gaze.

laying in bed, you decided you had to properly thank harry in some way for tonight, and you knew exactly how.

the next day, you paid a special visit to diagon alley with a friend to buy something special for harry. when she asked why you would ever possibly buy something like that for yourself, you make up some story about needing it for a class. she doesn't believe you, but goes along with it anyway and continues to have fun with you on your sunday out shopping.

you head towards his office in the afternoon when he usually spends his time grading assignments and working on the following week's lesson plan. you practically had his schedule memorized after coming to study with him so often.

softly knocking on the door, harry lets out a, "come in,"

you enter the office and he smiles at you immediately before it falters, his eyes then landing on the wrapped box in your hands. "surprise," you say with a shy voice.

he lets out a huff, looking back at you with a disbelieving expression. "[y/n]..." he carries off.

"it's just a little something," you say as you walk towards his desk, setting it down carefully in front of him. "a thank you, for last night," you tell him.

his eyes move back and forth from the box to your eyes, not knowing what to say. a few moments pass before he stands. "[y/n], i can't accept this…" he sighs. "what i did last night, i mean…it shouldn't have happened that way," he says curtly.

you tilt your head to catch his gaze, giving him a warm smile. "you did nothing wrong," you reassure him. you gesture to the gift. "please," you insist.

harry's shoulders relax, giving you an embarrassed smile as he slides the box closer to him, admiring the wrapping. "this is gorgeous, did you do this?" he asks, pointing at the sparkly ribbon and personalized name card. you proudly smile and nod your head.

harry admires it for another moment before carefully untying the ribbon and lifting the lid off the box. he gasps at what he sees.

a signed, hardcover, gold leaf detailed first edition defense against the dark arts textbook from his favorite auror. he had talked to you about seeing it at the bookshop but not wanting to spend the money or not having the place to display it or whatever his excuse was. you had taken note of this comment and when you saw it wasn't as expensive as harry had made it seem you knew it was perfect.

"[y/n]...you didn't…" he utters, practically falling back in his chair as he continues to stare at the cover. you giggle fondly at his reaction. "go ahead, open it up," you tell him excitedly. he can hardly move, but he eventually takes the book out of the box and admires it in his hands. he flips the cover open, sees the signature, and smiles. then, he looks at the inside of the cover and his expression drops.

"i had it personalized, if that's okay with you," you ask anxiously. on the inside of the leather bound cover you had a pressing engraved that said 'harry james potter'.

harry's in shock, his fingers running across the pressing softly. "[y/n], this is…" he trails off, continuing to admire the book as he flips through it, landing back on the inside cover, admiring his name once more.

"thank you." harry says, looking at you with so much love in his eyes it makes your heart burst. it was worth every penny seeing him in awe in front of you like this.

"well, thank you," you respond, smiling, holding your arms behind your back.

harry abruptly stands up, stepping around his desk and pulling you in for a desperate hug. you're a bit surprised, your arms wrapping around his waist as he continues to pull you closer and closer.

after a minute or so of the most comforting hug you've experienced outside of last night in that hallway, harry separates from you only slightly to look down at you. your faces are close enough to feel the breath of the other person.

you just want to tell him, 'fuck it, who cares, nobody's here, just kiss me, please, release this tension', but before you can even consider it, harry breaks the silence.

"i still love you," he says so softly, his face wincing as the words fall from his lips. your breath hitches. love?

"fuck," harry mutters, almost stepping away from you until you pull him closer to you, putting your lips close enough to his they're nearly touching. "please. kiss me. just kiss me. please." you practically beg, your hand finding its way to harry's neck.

"[y/n], we can't, i can't–" "just once, please, maybe it'll stop if we just, please…" you interrupt him, hoping he understands what you're implying, your noses rubbing together.

harry takes a few moments before practically whimpering as he connects your lips to his, wrapping you in his arms tightly. you immediately melt into him, letting the kiss consume you as your hands pull harry closer to you.

it only takes a few seconds before harry has you up on his desk, his hands gripping your ass under your skirt. the cold of the wood on your exposed skin makes you gasp, and harry's tongue quickly slips past your lips.

it's everything you imagined, and the fact that this is happening in his office is just making you even more turned on. you had played this scenario in your head so many times, and it hardly felt real once it was actually happening. and on the desk you spent so many hours at, pining over him and fantasizing him taking you like he is right now.

after a few minutes of making out and needy groping through your clothes, harry pulls away breathlessly. opening your eyes you see he's completely flushed, his hair slightly messy as he nervously takes his hands off you.

you awkwardly clear your throat, your hands falling to your sides and resting back on the desk. harry takes a step away, straightening his tie and fixing his hair. you hop off his desk and adjust your skirt.

the silence between you is awkward, but there's just nothing to say. the kiss only left you wanting more, of course, it was pointless to ever hope it would quell your feelings in some way.

"well," harry begins, his voice shaky and quiet. "that didn't work."

you let out a nervous laugh, coughing to cover it up. "yeah…sorry." you mumble.

harry sighs. "no, i'm sorry. i'm technically your superior, i shouldn't be doing this to you. leading you on, flirting with you, for fuck's sake, following you around after hours…"

you shake your head. "look, i'm not kissing professor potter, okay? i like you, harry. i've liked you since i was 13. i don't want to ruin your position here either, and i'll stop if that's what you truly want…" you choke up just a bit before swallowing it back. "but, just, please, stop blaming yourself. i want this, too."

the silence returns, harry clearly thinking over what you said as his eyes stare off beside you. you're anxiously shifting your weight, watching his face get lost in his own thoughts.

"i can't risk this job," harry says finally. "i don't give a shit about the money, pay me everything in the world i would still want you…" he mumbles. you feel your stomach drop at this sentiment. you want him so, so badly. but…

"but…" harry says.

you smile at him sadly, knowing what's coming. "i can't let down bill, or mcgonagall, or any professors or students here who may actually still like me," he says with a dry laugh. "if we ever got caught, and i just know we would, and what would happen to you…i just–" "i know, harry," you interrupt him, taking a small step towards him.

he smiles at you sadly as well. "and i agree. it's not worth it. well, you're worth it, of course…" you say shyly, diverting your gaze before continuing. "but, it's too risky. you deserve to finish out this semester without that hanging over your head, y'know?"

harry stares at you lovingly, no attempt to hide his adoration for you in this moment. "you're truly incredible. you know that?" harry comments softly.

you respond by blushing and crossing your arms. he hums softly, his smile taking over his cheeks. "thank you, really, for everything, if things were any different, i wish…" harry stumbles. you smile at him again. "i know."

harry returns to his gift, admiring the book in his hands over and over before putting it on the bookshelf next to his desk. he admires it there for a while as well before thanking you again.

as you're getting ready to leave, harry stops you for a moment. "if you don't mind, i'd still love to help you in your other classes. and, just, remain friendly in general still, if possible…"

you melt again at his soft demeanor. harry's such a sweetheart it's heartbreaking. all you want is to kiss him again. it's all you've wanted since he stopped.

"of course."

it's the end of the semester, and you have mixed feelings about it. on one hand you're dying for a break from classes. you've done the best you have in years this semester, and it's exhausted you. but you're incredibly grateful, for a lot of things. your new friends, your rediscovered love for hogwarts and magic in general, your overall improved attitude and mentality.

with special thanks to a certain substitute professor…

harry. this semester was definitely a rollercoaster for you when it came to harry. though, towards the end, things fell into place a bit more as you both accepted and embraced your odd, yet effective routine. professional student-professor relationship in public; smitten, teasingly love-sick old classmates in the comfort of his office walls. nothing further than lingering hands, loving stares, and the occasional compliment towing the line of what's inappropriate and what isn't.

though the dynamic wasn't ideal, you grew to love it for what it was. a simple, longing love that wasn't exactly unspoken anymore, but sure felt like it each passing day as you both pretended that kiss never happened.

that kiss. you swear you think about it every day. you long for harry to grab you like that again, to slip his tongue past your lips again…sometimes, late at night, it's all you can think about. sometimes just the thought of it makes you need to touch yourself, remembering how desperate he was for you, the feeling of his lips on yours, sitting on his desk in his office, just the image of it from outside of your own perspective could bring you to your orgasm alone in your room.

to say you were anxiously counting down the days until classes were over and harry technically wasn't employed with hogwarts anymore was an understatement. though you hadn't spoken about it with him, you felt it was okay to maybe consider that he would want to continue things further with you once his substitution was over. you kept your guard up as you knew he could still be uncomfortable with it while you were a student in general. but a large portion of you was practically praying that wasn't the case. you physically couldn't resist him much longer.

you were staying on campus for christmas this year, mostly just to savor your last holiday here, but also to continue seeing harry if possible.

it was the last day of classes, and you learned you passed all your exams with flying colors. you showed up to dark arts class early to inform harry excitedly, and he congratulated you with the same level of excitement.

"i knew you could do it! i told you you were smart." he beams. "i am so, so proud of you, [y/n]."

you want to hug him so badly, he's helped you so much this semester, you wouldn't have cared enough to try and get these kinds of grades without his guidance. but it's too public, and the risk is too high, so you just settle on an awkward high five and laugh emptily.

as other students walk in, you both pretend the moment never happened, and you sit in your seat without looking up from the floor.

the class is simple and rather uneventful as it's mostly everyone's last class of the semester. harry actually hands out christmas cookies hagrid made for everyone, and they're mediocre in taste, but the designs are so adorable you can't resist finishing it.

harry gives you all a speech thanking the class for trusting him to teach this semester, and for being respectful of him and professor weasley's lessons. he talks about how he's always thought about being a professor, but actually ended up despising the paperwork, and just missed his old job, which caused the class to chuckle with him.

he dismissed everyone with a happy christmas, specifically towards you, of course.

your heart aches a little as you leave the classroom and head to your room. you're going to miss harry as a professor, even if it caused complications in other aspects, it was inspiring to see him be so intelligent, helpful, and supportive in class. of course you were biased, you always found him to be amazing, but something about watching him teach a young wizard how to do a spell correctly for the first time just made you admire him so deeply.

you decided to rest for the night, knowing harry would be here for at least another day to collect all his items and clean the classroom up for professor weasley. you could talk to him then, what exactly about you weren't sure just yet, but you knew you had to tie up these loose ends before they drove you mad.

the next afternoon, you're practically one of the only students roaming the halls. most everyone leaves the first day of break to go home, and by christmas there's only a handful of students left.

arriving at harry's office door, you admire it one last time. your little sanctuary away from the world.

you knock, but to your dismay, there's no answer.

you knock again, a bit louder, but still, nothing. you decide to peak in, and notice how barren the desk looks from afar.

fuck. there's no way harry's left without speaking to you first.

you quickly walk to the dark arts classroom just down the hall, hoping he's cleaning and organizing it, but find it empty and dark. your heart sinks. he's gone.

you slowly walk back to your room, deciding you'll grab your coat and visit hagrid to see if harry's with him there. you try not to let your disappointment overcome you, there's still a chance you could talk to him…

entering your room, you immediately head for your coat rack by the window. you start to slip it on when you hear your door close, knowing you left it open on purpose to quickly leave.

you turn around, and it's harry.

you gasp, immediately dropping the coat and running to him, jumping into a hug. he laughs at your reaction, but embraces you nonetheless.

"hi, love," he says softly, resting his head on top of yours. you could hardly contain yourself at the pet name. it communicated so much to you with so little effort.

you look up at him, barely able to believe what's happening. harry looks at you knowingly. this unspoken tension. it was going to be the death of you.

as harry begins leaning in, you crash your lips together with his, immediately engulfing him into a heated, wanting, needing kiss.

harry's more than happy to give in to you. it's clear he's thought about this just as much as you have. he finished all his professor duties as soon as he could so he could officially, finally, be yours.

you guide harry to your bed, pushing him onto it as he gives you an impressed look, clearly intrigued by your repressed desperation.

you crawl onto his lap, immediately pulling him back into the kiss. harry's hands are all over you, finally, after fantasizing about it every night in this very same bed for months.

the kiss is desperate, full of moaning and getting sloppier by the minute. harry's squeezing and slapping your ass so hard you whimper in his arms, your hands gripping his button up tightly.

"fuck, [y/n], need you so bad, please," harry moans into your kiss, his hands sliding up your back. you reach to take your shirt off, left in just a bra and tiny skirt, as you start untying his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

harry's staring at you with hunger in his eyes. "do you even understand how badly i've wanted you? you and these fucking skirts, you must think i'm stupid." he growls, pulling at the hem of your skirt. you blush and stifle a giggle, overwhelmed with how insanely hot you found this to be.

"think that's funny? you think it was funny when i had to stand in class all day and not stare at your perfect legs through your robe? anytime i gave a lecture and just looking at you turned you into a needy slut," harry grabs your hair, turning your attention to him as he unbuttons the rest of his shirt with his other hand. "was that fun for you, hm? did you enjoy teasing me all semester?"

you can't say anything. all you can do is nod. you were so turned on you could hardly think straight.

"i bet it was," he says, examining your desperate expression, his words dripping with desire.

he pulls you in for another kiss, and you help him take off his shirt. his skin was warm, soft, and his shoulders were broad. you moved your lips to his neck, leaving an obvious bite just below his collar to finally mark what was yours.

harry groans, his hands reaching behind your back to swiftly undo your bra. he helps pull it off of you, marveling at your chest. "beautiful," he tells you before attaching his lips to your skin. you hold his head against you, savoring the feeling and sight of harry leaving hickeys along the soft skin of your boobs.

his hand cups one softly as his tongue circles your nipple, watching you through his glasses as you melt into his hands. "harry…" you moan, your hand running through his soft hair.

he continues, starting to suck on your nipple softly with closed eyes, his other hand pulling up your skirt to feel your wetness through your panties.

you immediately whimper and lean into harry's touch, desperate for this for so long. "f-fuck," you stutter breathlessly.

harry smiles, taking his lips off of you to look up at your blushing face. "so wet already," he smirks.

you cover his face with your hands, embarrassed, giggling, continuing to further lean into his hand for pleasure.

he laughs and removes your hands, his eyes full of lust just looking at you in his lap.

"i need you, now," he insists, pushing you further onto his growing erection through his slacks. you let out a breathy moan feeling just how hard he is already. he's just as desperate as you've been for him.

"is that okay?" he asks carefully, watching for your reaction. you laugh a bit. "please. i've waited long enough." you joke.

you help harry take his pants and boxers off, as well as your skirt and panties, leaving you both naked in your room.

he sat back down on the bed, and invited you into his lap again. "just like this is perfect," he says, guiding your hips and admiring your body as you sit with his cock between you two, your eyes barely able to look away from it.

harry pulls you in for a kiss, his hands traveling over your body and stopping at your pussy again, his hand feeling just how wet you are. he moans into your kiss along with you and begins to slip his fingers inside of you, slowly, letting you react to him.

harry pushes further and further into you until you're practically riding his hand, your kiss barely kept together with you bouncing, desperate for more. "please," you insist, your hand gently grasping for his precum soaked cock.

harry smiles, gently pulling his fingers away before letting you guide yourself onto him. slowly at first, you enjoy the feeling of harry's cock stretching you open, whimpering as he watches you intently, his hands supporting your hips. eventually you feel yourself take him completely, your hips flush with his as you start to slowly grind your hips up and down.

harry's a mess, barely able to hold himself together just watching you adjust to his cock. your face twisting in pleasure, your soft whimpers, the tight feeling of your pussy squeezing around him, it was almost too much already.

"fuck, baby," harry's moaning, his hands gripping your hips for sanity. you can't help but giggle, you just love seeing him like this for you after dreaming about it for so long. he's so lost in pleasure already, his jaw slack and eyes dropping.

"i-i'm already, fuck [y/n], you're just so," harry can barely get the words out. hearing him moan your name so filthily motivated you to move your hips quicker, letting your tits bounce in his face as you continued to pick up speed.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," harry's panicking, you can tell he's already trying to hold back his orgasm. you find it extremely hot just how quickly you can bring him to this point. so hot it brings you closer to your orgasm with him, putting your hands on his face to look up at you.

"you feel so fucking good, harry," you tell him, your head rolling back in pleasure. he's in awe of you, his eyes memorizing every single inch of you as you continue to ride him.

"please, please, can you, um…" he takes a second between his words to moan. "please, can you call me professor potter…" he asks, clearly embarrassed by the request.

you rub his blushing cheeks between your hands, his question only making you more turned on. you loved knowing he was just as into the teacher/student dynamic as you had been.

"your cock feels so…so fucking good inside of me, professor potter," you moan, resting your forehead against harry's as you slow your pace, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of him.

harry's eyes roll back, sinful moans escaping his lips as his head falls forward, watching you ride him slowly as he begins slightly thrusting up into you. he looks back up at your eyes, exasperated. "i'm gonna cum if you don't stop," he quietly warns you, clearly feeling a bit guilty at his eagerness.

you smile. "please, please cum for me professor. i've been such a good girl for you this semester, haven't i?" you tease him.

harry groans pathetically. "so, so good," his eyes are closed, his face twisting with each thrust. "then cum for me, please, give it to me," you beg him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you feel your stomach tensing from your own orgasm.

harry's eyes pop open, his gaze on you softening as his hands find your waist, gripping onto you desperately. "[y/n]..." he moans your name again, and you can feel yourself tipping over the edge. your pace becomes a bit slower as your legs start shaking.

harry moans as he starts to spill inside of you, the warm sensation fueling your orgasm as you both hold onto each other tightly, riding out your highs together.

after a few moments of slow grinding and weak kissing, you carefully stand up from your position on harry's lap. you guide him to your bathroom, where you help each other clean up, with a few more inevitable kisses and longing hugs along the way.

you get dressed into different clothes, and offer harry some as well. he declines, instead putting his clothes back on as he tells you he has to bring all his supplies back to his house.

you help him button his shirt back up and tie his tie before pushing yourself to ask the dreaded question you didn't want to know the answer to.

"so," you say softly. "what now?"

harry looks down at you lovingly, but he isn't quite smiling. "well, i'm no longer employed here," he states. you nod your head slowly, allowing him to continue.

"so, while it's not technically wrong, i'd still like to try and take this off campus, if possible," harry chuckles.

you give him a surprised look. "you want to see me again?" you ask quietly. harry can't help but laugh at you, kissing your forehead as he holds your cheek.

"you have no idea," is all he says before he leans in for another kiss, holding you close, knowing you're finally his.

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silkjade · 3 months

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SPARKS AMIDST THE SNOW

scaramouche x reader ⤀ warnings: gn!reader, second chance romance ⤀ synopsis: he meets you again for the first time since erasing himself from irminsul, and new hope flickers in the barren cold. a/n: for the best reading experience, pls think of the outro to all too well (10 min version) while u read this !

when scaramouche inevitably accompanies the golden haired traveller on their journey to snezhnaya, the last thing he expected was a pit stop in your little village on the outskirts of the capital. and although his puppet body does not shrink in the face of this nation's biting cold, his skin burns under the curious, yet cautious, gaze of those once familiar to him.

he keeps his head down, dipping his hat so that its large brim might hide his visage, eager to avoid any unwarranted attention. still, his eyes cannot help but wander and his heart, imaginary as it may be, cannot help but wonder.

were you well? the last he'd seen of you, he had promised to return a god—one who would whisk you away from the barren cold of snezhnaya to live out your days in glory as his mortal consort. but for all that had transpired, and then that fateful traipse beneath the irminsul, he's now no more than just another stranger passing through—fleeting as the falling snow, just another memory to be buried in the desolate stillness of winter.

he cares not for the stars in the sky, yet somehow they still dictate that his traveling companions would task him with purchasing commodities, of course from your family's stall. he's long grown out of his naivety; knows that in this infinite realm of possibilities, there’d always be the chance of meeting you again, slim as it may be. if it really came to, he had been prepared to let you live your life, free of him this time around, but it seems this world has its own twisted sense of humor, for he cannot tear his eyes from the ring that sits upon your finger.

"that ring. where did you get it?" he's never been one for small talk, but the biting curiosity rivals that of the wind, as it chips away at his exterior. he keeps his tone even, ignoring the multitude of emotions whirring in his head, though irritation clearly seems to buzz the loudest.

it should have been impossible that a ring he'd forged with his own hands should still exist, but as the fate of this world has yet to reflect that… if he hadn't given you the ring, then how? or perhaps even who... the cold, gunmetal glint laughs in his face as your swift fingers wrap up his purchase.

the stranger's question takes you by surprise, and you look up, taken aback by the intensity of his indigo gaze—beautiful, and bitter, and so blatantly familiar, yet you cannot quite figure out why.

your village is nowhere near the main road, so it isn't often that you'd host any foreign guests; even if you did, you're sure you'd remember if someone like that were to ever have passed through. nevertheless, you flex your fingers, pulled out of your thoughts by his impatient sigh.

"I'm not sure. I've had it ever since I could remember."

you're the same as he remembers, he thinks. a rose amidst the snow, with frost resting in your hair and on the curls of your lashes. out of habit, he takes your hand, inspecting the ring at a closer proximity.

'how rude,' you think. and yet your hand in his, feels comfortable, and warm, and right. like an electric charge drawing two magnets home to the other. it’d be blasphemy to pull away, but you manage to do so anyway, furrowing your brows at his boldness, the frown on your lips more so a reflection of your confusion, rather than displeasure.

“if you wanted to look, you could’ve just asked,” you mumble, as you slip the ring off your finger, offering it to him in the palm of your hand.

the detailed metalwork, the particular branding imprinted in the iron… there’s no denying the influence of the raiden gokaden, though it was perhaps, a subconscious decision made from muscle memory. in hindsight, he thinks that, in the moment, he must have felt—still feels—that same overwhelming affection that came as second nature to kabukimono. after all, it was forged as a promise of his love, and there’s no question about it when, hidden beneath his clothes, its pair hangs on a chain around his neck.

"it’s made with excellent craftsmanship," he boasts, "any merchant worth their weight, would give you a good price for it." he figures you might as well get something out of it, and a piece like this, though meaningless now, is still sure to last you until at least the next winter.

but a stubborn pout is painted across your snow-kissed features. "absolutely not! it’s actually quite dear to me, you know..."

scaramouche scoffs at the irony. ‘why?’ he wants to ask. he is not foolish enough to believe himself an exception from the rules of this world; not when he's already convinced himself to give up on chasing the impossible. still, here you are, turning destiny on its head—his heart, right within reach.

“it can’t be that dear, if you’d so willingly hand it off to a stranger.” his face reveals nothing, though he cannot say the same for the bile that rises in his throat. he crosses his arms, a brow raised in skepticism. "how do you know I won't run off with it right now?"

“I don’t,” you start, “so I suppose you could call it a leap of faith.”

“or a doomed attempt at flight,” he counters. “you’d leave something so precious up to fate?”

you ponder for a moment as to why you feel so drawn to this stranger, why this back and forth comes so easily, why you seem to somehow just trust him.

"we don’t get many visitors here,” you start, “and as fate should have it, the day we do, it happens to be someone as interesting as you. that must count for something, no?”

the realist he’s learned to embody rolls his eyes at such ridiculous notions: your blind optimism… putting such faith in these false stars…. but the tenderness he had buried begs to differ, planting roots between the cavities of his chest, sprouting until it breaks through the surface.

he takes a further study of the intricate details, the careful inazuman script engraved on its body. ‘my heart,’ he had wrote.

scaramouche dips his head as his fingers close a fist around the piece, the large brim of his hat hiding the fondness glimmering in his eyes, and the ghostly smile settling on his lips. he does not cringe as he recalls the lingering remnants of kabukimono's innocence: stubbornly deluding himself to believe that his hollowed chest was naught for his natural lack of a heart, but because fate had dictated you to be its keeper.

perhaps the warmth of sumeru had indeed rubbed off on him—melted the frost that crawled upon and tore his skin, whilst teaching him to hope again, not for anyone else’s sake, but for his own. what was that vahumana saying? it’s difficult for people to truly understand themselves—and as much as he’d like to disagree, judging by his current predicament, he knows he cannot.

“have you ever considered that this ring might be one half of a pair?” he tosses it in the air, nonchalantly, as if he were merely flipping a coin, catching it mid-way before you have the chance to swipe it back.

“what do you suppose fate would have to say about that?”

it’s almost impossible to tell whether he’s truly genuine in his queries, but the mischievous gleam in his bright eyes, and the smug look on his face, seem to nullify any regards you may have had. your brows twitch in vexation. was he not just here to buy provisions? and yet he toys with you so…

“well if that were the case, then it would be between me and whoever owns the other half,” you huff, reaching over once again in an attempt to snatch back your belonging, only to miss by mere seconds thanks to a quick slight of his hand.

breathing out something between a chuckle and a scoff, scaramouche tugs at the thin chain around his neck, hard enough for it to snap right off, and toss in your direction.

"a leap of faith," he says plainly. it lands in the palms of your hands: a ring, near identical. 'my soul' it reads. if he lacked a heart, then it could only have been forged from his soul.

a flurry of questions swarm in your head, as you stare at his ring. you want to ask him why and how, but he's already pivoted away, the tassels of his hat barely missing you by inches, as he quickly grabs his purchase.

“who are you,” you manage to blurt out, calling out to him, and asking him to wait, so he might answer these questions he’s planted in your heart, but he only bids you farewell with a lazy wave of his hand.

though there's nothing he'd like more than to hear the sweet song of his name falling from your lips, he's learned it best to leave the past where it belongs. once he's settled his scores... then he'll get his second chance with you—he'll make sure of it, vowing to come back for you, not as kunikuzushi who you had once known him, but he hopes you might one day be able to love him as he is, as well.

‘my soul.’ your new ring reads. you shake your head, pursing your lips at the mysterious wanderer, wondering if you’d ever see him again, but a gust of wind blows your way—not a prickling cold as you’re used to, but a warm summer breeze that seems to caress your cheeks oh so sweetly.

perhaps it's only in your head, but you swear the wind seems to carry the whisper of a name in its flurry. 'and don't you forget it,' it seems to say.

a/n2: pleaseeee associate this with the outro of all too well (10 min version) like imagine the camera slow panning out amidst the falling snow, to the hopes of another chance together (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄‸o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝) anyways, tysm for reading, reblogs/feedback vry much appreciated ♡

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #astronetwrk #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x you #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin drabble #scaramouche drabble #scaramouche x reader fluff #genshin impact

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sophiethewitch1 · 3 months

Text

Before any asks come in, I figured I'd do some for my current crowning hyperfixation, which is the boys. Did one for each of their initials but Dick got two because I couldn't choose <3

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! , gen soft yandere behavior, murder, kidnapping, dacryphilia, sadism/masochism

D = Darling (Beyond Morality, is Any Act Justified in Their Pursuit of Their Darling? Is Consent Merely an Obstacle to Be Overcome?):

Dick: Dick is the most moral of the yandere batfam, and considers doing the right thing very important. Of course, you’re still much, much more important but… He’ll definitely start small. He’s manipulative. Always begging and pleading for a little more of your time, whining when you don’t give it. And he does it openly, too, not even trying to hide it. Maybe that will absolve him of some of his sins, he thinks a little pathetically. Things like murder and other crimes are harder for him to get into, as he’s quite loyal to Bruce’s code. And he probably wouldn’t kidnap you, just move into your house instead, then your bedroom, then under the covers and with your arms around you. Very slowly, so he doesn’t scare you away. And as someone who has experienced s/a before, he wouldn’t do that to you. No matter how desperate, no matter how many nights he spends taking a suspiciously long time in the shower, he’d never do that to you. In the end, he just wants you to be happy so… so the other stuff doesn’t need to matter as much.

Damian: Damian has a very black and white form of thinking. It took Bruce a hell of a lot of work to change that, and with the advent of you in his life, he swings right back to that black and white. Morality is thrown right out the window when it comes to getting you, to getting you to love him. Murder? He’s done it before. Kidnapping? He’ll keep you safe with him. He’s a romantic, though (like they all are) and he wants you to love him back. He’s irritated that he can’t force that, that if he broke you, you wouldn’t be you. So in the end he won’t ever do anything too far, nothing that would truly get in the way of his goal. Still, with the kidnapping thing, you guys are just going to get stuck together for a while, because he’s certainly not letting you go. The two of you are just gonna have to suffer together till you inevitable fall in love with him. Don’t worry, he’s got a plan!

J = Jealousy (Does Jealousy Course Through Their Veins, Leading to Possessive Outbursts and a Relentless Need to Eliminate Perceived Threats?):

Jason: Jason is so unbelievably jealous it sometimes physically hurts. Like he’s being burned alive by it, which, well, he knows what that’s like so he can say it with confidence. He finds your presence calming, usually, but that first time he sees you laughing at a close friend’s joke, he realises you bring out every emotion in him. This time, fiery rage from the literal pits’ of hell. He won’t ever hurt you (and if he ever thinks of it, even for just a moment, the pure horror is enough of a cool bucket of icy water over his head to snap him out of it) but others? Oh, oh no. He left that silly ‘no killing’ code behind a long time ago, and he’s very glad for that as he beats one of your admirers into the concrete. And if you have other yanderes under your thrall? You’ll find yourself constantly breaking up fights, and maybe one day, cleaning up a body. Even then, Jason doesn’t like seeing you touch them, so he does it for you instead. What a sweet guy, eh?

R = Regret (Would Guilt Ever Be a Foreign Emotion, Overridden by the Conviction That Their Actions Are Justified? Is the Idea of Letting Their Darling Go Inconceivable?):

Richard/Dick: Constantly. Dick is constantly suffering under the weight of his choices, the way he’s treated you, the things he thinks about you. And even as he does it again, does worse, he’ll still have that bit of guilt in the back of his mind. He wants to stay with you, to fucking climb inside your rib cage and live next to the comforting sound of your beating heart, but he knows that’s all unhealthy. He sometimes can’t banish the guilt from his head, sometimes it’s overwhelming, and those are the moments he’ll back off a bit.

T = Tears (Does the Sight of Their Darling's Suffering Evoke a Twisted Pleasure, a Morbid Satisfaction Reinforcing Their Control?):

Tim (Going to play around with this one a bit, if you’ll forgive me): Tim is purely fascinated by you. He’s one of the yanderes who gets obsessed with you first, and falls for you second. Your tears, just simply by being a byproduct of you are fascinating to him too. And yeah, they turn him on. Everything about you turns him on, but the sight of your weepy face, has his cock weepy too. As a sadomasochist switch, he likes it when you’re suffering just a little bit. It’s just too cute to resist. But on the other side… he likes when you make him cry too. He likes when you hurt him, as long as you’re paying him attention, looking at him. He’ll cry all you like, if you think it makes him cute, too.

#Event:1kCelebration #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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reminiscingtonight · 7 months

Text

Everything Has Changed

Ana-Maria Crnogorčević x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Love You More (Part Two)

[WOSO Masterlist]

Finishing your fourth ice cube, you look at the clock again. It’s the fifth time you’ve looked at it in the past couple minutes, impatiently awaiting the return of your wife.

Lia had all but dragged Ana out after practice, saying something about how she needed the blonde to go shopping with her for some new furniture in her apartment. So pouting and feigning annoyance, you returned home alone.

While you were slightly peeved at Lia for depriving you of some quality time with your wife, there’s a part of you that appreciated it all the same. It left you plenty of time to finally wrap up the gift that you had been waiting to give Ana.

It’s been sitting in a spare duffle of yours, tucked between a couple old shirts and stolen hoodies. You bought it earlier in the week, immediately after you went to the doctor’s office to confirm the result of your at home test.

It isn’t until you’re nearly all the way done with your next ice cube that you hear some muffled words through the door. Like a puppy to a bone, you perk up at the sound of keys in the lock.

This is something you don’t think you’ll ever get used to. Up until last year, you and Ana have never played for the same club team. Lia’s the one who introduced the two of you to each other all those years ago. Having taken a quick liking to the Swiss when she first joined Arsenal, Lia took it upon herself to be your wingwoman until it became apparent that the blonde was the one for you. Countless blind dates set up by the brunette all seemed for naught when you vacationed with Lia and a couple of mutual football friends and instantly hit it off with Ana. Dating was superseded by an engagement, and a wedding came not long after.

So yes, most of your relationship was spent balancing long distance, but after her contract in Spain ended, Ana decided to come to Arsenal to be with you. You had already decided a while back that you’d play out your last couple years in England at a club that’s become so dear to you, and Ana took it as a win to go play for a club where her wife and best friend both played at.

So now you get to wake up to the love of your life, pull faces at each other as you scramble to make it out the door to trainings on time, dance around the kitchen as you try to make dinner (which will inevitably result in Ana stepping in when you burn it), and bask in all that domestic bliss the two of you missed out on in those early years of your relationship.

“Honey, I’m home!” Ana shouts, a goofy grin on her face as she rounds the corner to the living room.

You have a similar smile on your face, tilting your head up to receive the kiss Ana presses to your lips in greeting. Letting out a relieved sigh, Ana all but collapses onto the seat next to you. Chuckling, you give her head a couple scratches as she launches into a rant about Lia’s indecisiveness.

“After my fourth sigh Lia nearly shoved me over and said all I wanted to do was go home and cuddle with you, which of course was what I wanted to do, but I couldn't let Lia of all people be correct, you know? So I had to walk a couple more laps with her around the store until she decided she didn’t want anything from that place.”

“Number one best friend right here,” you chuckle, expertly slapping away Ana’s hands as she tries to tickle you for your jest. “Hey, hey! I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Huffing, she rolls her eyes good heartedly at you. Though the pout on her face becomes real when you move to get out of her arms. “Where are you going?” she whines, hands scrambling to pull you back into her side.

“Calm down, Ana. I’m coming right back,” you shout over your shoulder, quickly running to the closet to grab your gift. It takes some digging, but eventually you find it.

With a skip in your step, you return to a sullen looking wife. Ana perks up at your return, hands instantly making a grabby motion towards you.

“To reward your patience, I got you a gift.”

Ana blinks in surprise, mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ at the sight of the wrapped box in your hands. “A gift? For me?”

You laugh at her dumbfounded look. “Yes, I’ve got a present for you,” you repeat.

Eyebrows scrunching up, you can almost see the gears turning in Ana’s head. “I didn’t forget anything did I?”

Laughing, you press a kiss against your wife’s head. “No, babe, you didn’t. I just wanted to spoil you today.”

Settling into her side, you watch as Ana begins her careful work of unfolding your gift. Unlike you, Ana treats all wrapping paper with care. You’re the opposite, much more likely to tear and rip at anything placed in your hands. Now the impatient one, you start tapping your foot on the ground. You really hope Ana’s going to like your gift, but when it comes down to it, you can’t really predict the way she’s going to react.

Finally finished unfolding, Ana pulls out a tiny jersey, eyebrows furrowing as she takes in the Arsenal logo on the front. You can tell she’s still confused as she flips it over to see the name on the back.

There are so many letters there that the font is smaller than it normally is, the letters still nearly curling their way to the front. The two of you had hyphenated your last names after marriage, but professionally you still wore your own. When given the choice between which jersey to get, it wasn’t really a competition.

Wracking her mind, Ana tries to think why you got her this shirt. The last shirt you got your cat led to hours of glaring and hissing, even after you took it off her and gave her cuddles, so Ana knew it wasn’t for her. And the dog you shared was definitely too big to fit into something this size.

It’s at this moment Ana realizes the shape of the jersey. Or more specifically the way the ends meet together with a click, giving way to two tiny leg holes.

“Is this…” Ana trails off, fingers absentmindedly tracing her last name as she tries to calm her racing mind.

“I wanted to get one of my jerseys for the baby but for right now I’m more than happy to give them a jersey of the best player I know.”

Ana whips her head around, eyes darting between your face and your stomach. It’s obvious she doesn’t really know where to look, eyes a little wild. “Baby? Are you… is it… did it work?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nod. “I’m pregnant.”

It’s silent for a minute as Ana takes in your words. Her eyes have started watering, bottom lip quivering with the beginning of a sob.

This is something the two of you have been waiting for for years. Of course your careers are important to you, but you both agreed that a successful career meant nothing without a family to share it with. After an injury took you out for the majority of last season, the two of you decided there was no time like the present and began looking into IVF treatments. However, despite all of your hardwork and prayers, nothing took.

The two of you had just begun discussing alternative methods for expanding your family when you took your last pregnancy test.

And it was positive.

Ana’s still trying hard not to cry when she cups your face, pressing her forehead against yours. “You’re pregnant?”

Nodding, you gently grasp Ana’s hands before directing them onto your abdomen. It’s this action that causes the dam to break, and Ana begins sobbing, quickly pressing her face into the side of your neck to muffle her cries.

Soothingly rubbing your hands up and down her back, you whisper how much you love her and how amazing of a mom she’ll be. It takes a couple minutes before her cries die down, the blonde overwhelmed by the news of your expanding family. Eventually she pulls her head up, allowing you to wipe the tears from her face.

“We’re having a baby,” she wetly laughs, pressing a kiss to your fingertips when they brush past.

Grinning, you murmur those words back. Ana lets her eyes drop back down to her hands, to where they are still pressed against your stomach. Her eyes are full of wonder and love as she takes in all in.

The two of you are having a baby.

You’re going to be parents.

“I love you,” she whispers, voice full of emotion as she presses a kiss to your lips. Giving your hand a light squeeze, Ana leans down, lifting your shirt so she can press a light kiss against your bare abdomen. “And I love you too, my little dove. Your mama and I can’t wait to meet you.”

You don’t think anything can beat this moment--

(You didn’t think anything could beat your first date.

Or your first anniversary.

Or your second.

Or Ana asking you to marry her.

Or your wedding.

Or Ana moving to London to be with you.)

--at least until you see your precious daughter staring up at you with wide eyes, dressed in her little Crnogorčević jersey.

#ana maria crnogorcevic x reader #ana maria crnogorcevic imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

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lixxpix · 16 days

Text

our lost love - h.hj

genre: angst, break-up

tw: lots and lots and lots of angst, kinda sad ending:<

synopsis: "this is the end, isn't it?" you asked, the both of you tangled up in bed with your fingers interlocked. a bittersweet smile rested on your lips, yet your eyes were brimming with tears and unspoken grievances. "i'm sorry."

author's note: this was so sad but i got randomly inspired out of nowhere lol>< reblogs and likes r appreciated!

you could feel hyunjin slipping away from you, through the cracks of your fingers. and you tried, you really did. grasping and trying to hold on desperately to his hands as he slipped out of your grasp. out of your world. he would never acknowledge it, of course. he would never want to hurt you. he loved you, but wasn't in love with you. but you, ever the observer, could see the way his eyes gazed upon you with fondness but had lost their sparkle reserved for only you in the past. you could sense him closing up, dropping a quick peck on your forehead when he came home with a 'hi baby.' but it was never like the affectionate, loving kiss he always gave you in the past, taking his time to talk about his day and cuddle with you, never the deep conversations you two would have until 2am in the morning. you used to envision a future with him, a quiet family with one or two kids and a happy life, but deep down you knew that dream would probably never come to fruition. and it hurt. so, so, bad. countless hours spent sniffling into the pillow as you grieved for the inevitable loss of your love, your muse for the past 3 years. but for now, you would cling onto the last moments as if they were your lifeline, and wait until that fateful day when your nightmare would morph with reality.

hwang hyunjin knew he was falling out of love. he loved you, as a companion. the kind of person he would want to grow old with, the kind that would stick by his side through the years. but his spark, his passion for you had died down, from a once burning fire to a flickering flame in the candlelight, a familiar and comforting warmth yet not warm enough to heat the room. he tried so hard to fall in love with you again. memorised your every detail, tried to take you out on dates. but each time, he never felt that passion reignite. he would always love you as a friend, a companion and partner. you brought a certain warmth into his life. but hyunjin was a fiery person. if you were water, he was fire. he couldn't live without passion, without the burning heat that threatened to consume him. hyunjin felt so, so guilty, each time he came back late to see you asleep on the couch after waiting for him, each time you gazed at him with so much love and adoration that he knew he couldn't give back. hyunjin knew he had fallen out of love, yet couldn't bring himself to break your heart and break the perfect life he had been living with you for the past three years. so he would wait until the day when he knew the time was right and inevitably have to leave, leaving in his wake behind two broken hearts.

"this is the end, isn't it?" you asked, the both of you tangled up in bed with your fingers interlocked. a bittersweet smile rested on your lips, yet your eyes were brimming with tears and unspoken grievances.

"im sorry." hyunjin could only muster those two words, his heart breaking when he finally saw you close your eyes with a sigh, a lone tear trickling down your face.

"i know, just... hold me one last time." you breathed, fingers grazing his cheek and your eyes searched the eyes of the man you had once loved. no, you still loved him.

a part of you always would, no matter who you were with in the future. one day, you would look back on all of this with a smile and thank him for the memories, the moments that made you who you were. one day, your heart would expand to fit for another that you loved, the love for hyunjin remaining in a small corner of your mind. you would leave a piece of the old you in his heart, and he would leave a piece of him in you, but as time would pass and so would you grow into a new person, the old you simply just a stepping stone into the new chapter of your life. the memories made with hyunjin would always be moments to look back upon fondly, smiling wistfully for the happiness you experienced with him. you would always love hwang hyunjin, you supposed. a person never forgets the people they had loved. if someone were to ask you if you had regretted those three years, you would reply without hesitation a definite 'no'.

"thank you for letting me love and live."

#hyunjin x reader #stray kids #angst #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #drabble #skz imagines #hwang hyunjin #skz angst

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tieronecrush · 11 months

Text

hot & heavy

chapter four: american pie

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 6.6k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced/virgin reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, mentions of food/eating, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, etc.), polite southern manners (use of sir), feeling familial and self-pressure, oral sex (m & f), slightly public sex (no bystanders), fingering, dirty talk, LATINO JOEL cause it's canon which means there's likely subpar spanish

It was Thursday night, the week after you’d kissed Joel for the first time. The week after he’d told you that he’s been thinking about you since he met you. The week after he’d asked you to ride his thigh. The week after he’d made you come while teaching you Spanish.

The last two things hadn’t happened since, but it had been a week full of fleeting moments that made your skin heat up when you thought back on them. You stayed later and later each night that passed, talking with Joel and getting to know more about each other. Joel would prepare dinner, relax on the couch, or even stay in the entryway while the two of you conversed, flirty glances and affectionate smiles passed back and forth.

And in the moments when Sarah was off in her room playing or was outside in the backyard with you two watching her from the screened door, Joel’s hands would sneak around your hips or skim down your backside. Sweet and sultry kisses were shared, giving you more Spanish lessons to tell you what he desperately wanted from you. Last night he’d set dinner down in front of his daughter and walked you to the door, wrapping his arms around you and grabbing a handful of ass as he caught your lips in a heady breath, melding his tongue with yours and leaving you feeling like jelly as he pulled away.

Reminiscing on the moment now as you chop some apple slices for Sarah has you so distracted that you jump when you feel a tug on your shorts, tiny fingers poking at your sides.

“Can I have my snack now, please?”

You smile and nod, throwing the slices into the Aladdin bowl sitting on the granite.

“Here you, sweet pea. Sorry for taking so long.”

“It’s okay! Thank you!” Sarah sends you a beaming smile and twirls around, bounding out to the living room again.

As you’re cleaning up the counter and the dishes, your cell phone vibrates in the pocket of your jean shorts. After drying your hands off on the kitchen towel, you fish your phone out and smile to yourself when you see Joel’s name on the small screen.

On my way home, you got a minute to stick around when I get back sweetheart?

Course I do :) See you soon, drive safe!

Will do. Gotta make it back to both my girls in one piece

The last message makes your smile grow wider, a giddy feeling in your chest at the simple affection, even via text. After rereading the message a few times, you finally slip your phone away again and turn back to your task.

Settling in on the couch with Sarah after the kitchen’s cleaned, Lilo & Stitch runs on the TV after a few incessant requests to watch it with you. Her tiny legs are stretched across your lap, her torso curled into your side, and her eyes glued to the animations on the screen. As Lilo is yelling about feeding fish tuna, Sarah giggles and you wrap an arm around her to pull her closer.

“I want a Scrump! She’s so cute,” Sarah points at the TV when Lilo pulls the doll out of her duffel bag, and you can’t help but grin.

“I think I want a Scrump, too. She’s so much cooler than those other dolls. Very original,” you squeeze Sarah’s side and grin, “Maybe you can get a Scrump for Christmas or something this year! Put it on your list for Santa.”

“But that’s so far away, like a trillion days,” Sarah replies in a louder volume with a huff, perking up at the sound of keys in the front door. Joel walks into the house, throwing his work bag down on the ground and kicking off his boots. He shuffles into the living room, giving both you and his daughter a quizzical look as he flops down onto the couch on the other side of Sarah.

“What’s a trillion days away?” Joel rubs his hands over his face and looks at the movie playing on the TV, laughing softly to himself and sharing a sweet look with you over Sarah’s head.

“Christmas! I want a Scrump doll and I could ask Santa for one, but it’s so far.”

Joel’s laugh fills out, a bit louder as he speaks directly to Sarah, “Well, that’s true that you could Santa for one, but y’know your birthday’s in just a couple’a weeks, Bug. Maybe one of your friends could get you one. Or Uncle Tommy. He’d get you something weird like that.”

“Weird? She’s not weird, Daddy!” Sarah sits up, crossing her arms in annoyance towards her father.

“Sarah’s right, she’s adorable. I told Sarah I want one, too.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at your response, shaking his head and looking back to the doll on the paused screen.

“That thing? Really?” He watches you both nod and grins, huffing a chuckle out of his nose, “Y’all are somethin’ else.”

You roll your eyes at him playfully, and Sarah gets the idea in her head that she could make her own Scrump like Lilo did, climbing off of the couch and running excitedly up to her room to find materials. Watching her with a soft smile, you turn back to Joel when she disappears at the top of the stairs.

He scoots closer on the sofa, a slight smirk raising one side of his mouth. His hands stretch out, one caressing your waist and the other crossing your lap to the side of your thigh to pull your legs over his. There’s a small gap between the two of you now, close enough to feel his breath against your skin while your eyes fall in line with his deep brown ones. Tension feels thick in the silent air, the sounds of Sarah’s footsteps and the birds outside being the only background noise besides your breaths.

“Missed you today, darlin’. Couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Joel’s voice is low, barely above a whisper as the smirk on his face still tugs at his lips.

“Missed you, too. Been thinkin’ about getting a kiss from you all day.”

Your heart rate increases as Joel’s subdued hum vibrates throughout your chest, his large palms skating up your back and fingertips tracing your spine.

“That so? Well, all you gotta do is ask, sweet girl.”

You laugh faintly, biting your bottom lip as your eyes flitter back and forth over his to keep eye contact.

“Can I have a kiss?”

Joel tilts his head, clicking his tongue in a tsk.

“Now I think we both know you have better manners than that, sweetheart.”

You sigh with added drama, mouth screwing up into a tight purse to one side. Joel’s face is still stern, smirk playing at the corners and humor glittering in his eyes. An idea comes to mind, from the first time you met him even, and you bite back the sly smile that would give you away. Instead, you put on your best sweet expression, batting your lashes as you ghost your lips over his as you speak.

“May I please have a kiss, sir?”

His eyes darken as you’re staring into them, a long exhale slipping from his lips as he shifts his hips under your leg. A simper stretches your lips to expose your teeth, a light laugh rolling as you throw a satisfied look in Joel’s direction. A simmer grows in your gut as you await his response, pumping your heartbeat in a steady, quick rate.

“Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish, querida.”

“What makes you think I can’t finish it?”

“The fact that you have to go home tonight.”

Before you can offer a counter, Joel closes the small gap between the two of you, a sincere smile on his face as he presses his lips to yours in a tender kiss. With a few seconds passing of the PG-rated kiss, his hand drifting down towards your ass parts your lips in a gasp, his tongue melding with yours in a hotter exchange. The two of you makeout with each other for a few minutes before you both hear the pitter-patter of footsteps upstairs, pulling apart and separating to your original spots on the couch.

Nothing more comes from upstairs, and Joel sends you a suspicious look.

“Probably should go make sure she’s not destroying her room or somethin’ to make that weird doll.”

You laugh and nod, standing up from the leather seat. Joel follows you to the front door, watching you slip your shoes on and grab your bag from the table. He grins when you turn back to him, reaching out to pull you in.

“Wanted to ask you somethin’ before I forget.”

“And what’s that?”

His eyes drift down to the ground and he clears his throat, free hand finding the back of his neck and moving up to mess with the hair at the crown of his head. Legs shifting his weight back and forth, left thumb rubbing circles into your hip before his eyes come back to you holding trepidation.

Is Joel…nervous?

What the hell could he need to ask you that has him acting like this?

“Is everything okay?”

You lay your hand over his on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“God, yeah, I’m sorry. Just, I, uh, I was wonderin’ if you were doin’ anything on Saturday night?”

Joel Miller is this nervous to ask you out?

Joel Miller is this nervous to ask you out.

Damn, he’s adorable.

“Joel, are you asking me out?”

He sees the smile hidden in you expression, an embarrassed groan rumbling from his chest.

“I haven’t asked anyone out in years, sweetheart, so you’ll have to forgive me, but yes. Was wonderin’ if maybe you’d wanna go for a drive, and then stay the night with me? Sarah’ll be at her mom’s for the weekend. And I’ll be real lonesome.”

He shoots you his best pleading look with those big brown puppy eyes — another thing you never thought you would see from Joel Miller, but after a week of being something with him, you’ve come to learn that he uses them frequently to get what he wants.

And you definitely haven’t built a tolerance for them.

And probably never will.

“No need to try to persuade me, I’d have agreed without the eyes, babe.”

He winks lightning fast, shaking his head. Feigning innocence with the look across his face, shrugging his shoulders and holding you to his chest.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, cariño,” a chaste kiss is shared, and then another, and another, “You really wanna stay over?”

“Course I do,” your hands find his shoulders, nerves crossing his eyes, “Don’t worry. I’ll tell ‘em I’m staying at a friend’s house. We can figure somethin’ out with my car.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’. Just don’t think it’s a good idea—”

“I know, Joel. It’s alright. Don’t want to have you end up with a shotgun pointed at you. Metaphorically speaking. Dad doesn’t have a gun.”

He huffs out a tight laugh, nodding slowly and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“See you tomorrow? We can figure out Saturday night then?”

You nod and give him a taut, thin smile.

“See you tomorrow. Night, Joel. Tell Sarah I said g’night too.”

“Course. G’night, sweet girl. Sleep well.”

He gives you one last peck before holding the door open for you, watching from the threshold as you cross the yards and give him one look back, waving to him.

Excitement for the weekend swirls in your stomach, but you can’t help but feel the sharp pain of your heart constricting at the thought of keeping a secret for the summer.

The pathetic air conditioning of your 1997 used Honda CR-V spits out lukewarm air while the rest of the car bakes in the 96º evening heat in the middle of July.

The skin of your thighs is plastered to the gray leather of the seat below you, and you can already tell it’s going to be extra painful to peel yourself out. At this point, you’re gripping the hem of your strappy white sundress and fanning yourself in an attempt to cool down even a little bit.

20 minutes have passed since you parked up at the far end of the lot outside of Foley’s department store at the Highland Mall. You’d told your parents that you were heading over to Emily’s house, a friend from high school, and spending the night there. After covering for her countless times over the last few summers, she owed you a favor — no questions asked — and so you made sure she would corroborate your lie if your parents asked.

But being the goody-goody you always were paid off from time to time. They trusted you enough to not have to check in with anyone you’d mentioned hanging out with, never expecting you to lie to them. And you really didn’t, not fully. You were going to spend the night at a friend’s house, it just happened to be Joel’s instead.

Joel didn’t let any detail slip yesterday when you were talking about tonight before you left. You’d come up with the plan to meet in the mall parking lot, but when you asked what he’d planned, he only gave you a grin and shook his head.

“It’s a surprise, sweetheart. What kinda first date would this be if there wasn’t some element of surprise? I wanna do somethin’ for you, so let me.”

Another five minutes have passed and you are nearing suffocation from the heat in your car. Finally, Joel’s Ford pickup is coasting through the virtually empty parking lot in your direction, slowing down to a halt before he throws it into park. You turn toward your passenger side to gather your purse and your backpack filled with your overnight necessities.

“Shouldn’t leave your doors unlocked just sittin’ here, sweetheart.”

Joel’s voice sounding from right behind you makes you jump, whipping your head around to look at him over your shoulder with a huff.

“Fucking hell, Joel, scared the daylights outta me!”

He laughs, leaning against the frame of your car to block you in.

“Like I said, shouldn’t leave your doors unlocked. Don’t know who’s gonna come by and try somethin’.”

“Oh hush, nobody’s out here,” you slide your purse over your arm and turn off the ignition, dropping your keys inside of its largest pocket. Joel backs up a few steps to let you climb out, a soft wince slipping from behind your teeth as your skin sticks to the seat. Once you’re standing in front of him, you turn around and lean over the seat and center console to grab your overnight bag.

Joel’s hands find your waist and turn you back to him when you have your backpack, a tender smile on his face as he looks down at you.

“Didn’t get to properly say hello to ya.”

His lips meet yours in a supple kiss, a smile finding its way onto your face as he lets out a satisfied hum.

“Hello to you too,” both of your smiles match before you continue, “So what’s the plan? I need somethin’ cold wherever we’re goin’, I’m sweating.”

His smile grows wider while his head slowly moves left to right. Your hands brush when he takes your overnight bag from you, his other hand finding the small of your back to guide you to the passenger side of his truck.

“You’re nearly there, darlin’. If I know anything about you, I know you’ll like what I’ve got planned for you. And I promise it’ll cool you down.”

When the car door clicks open and he swings it out, Joel sends you a wink before offering you a hand to help you climb up into the cab. He closes the door behind you, making his way around the front to his side, setting your bag on the seat behind him, and starting up the truck.

Warmth spreads on your skin when his hand finds your thigh, long fingers extending to the inside while his thumb sweeps back and forth languidly toward the outside. Strip malls filled with one-off businesses, chain restaurants, and a few honky tonk bars blur past through the window, Joel heading in the direction opposite of your neighborhood and further out of Austin proper. The windows are cracked, and the speed of the car cools the wind down as it rushes in, swirling your hair around. You open the window further, extending a hand out and closing your eyes as you feel the evening summer air fill the car.

Joel slows to a stop at the first red light you’ve hit and you slowly open your eyes, taking in your surroundings and smiling softly when you recognize where you are. His timbre takes you out of your observations, head snapping in attention to him.

“You look real beautiful tonight, sweetheart. Pretty as a peach.”

The hand on your thigh finds yours closest to him, lacing your fingers together and bringing the back of yours up to his mouth to press a sweet kiss to your skin as the light turns green. You hold his hand with both of yours in your lap, a shy grin on your face.

“You clean up pretty well yourself, Miller. Lookin’ mighty handsome, but you always do.”

“Oh yeah? You think I’m handsome even when you see me dirty and sweaty and exhausted most of the time?”

He glances towards you, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Well don’t go fishing now, but yes I do. Especially then,” you say casually, shrugging your shoulders before adding, “You’re built like a brick house. It’s hot seeing you all sweaty and dirty with your hair messed up and your t-shirts tight around your arms and your chest.”

Joel laughs, squeezing your hand in his and shaking his head in disbelief.

“Don’t think anyone’s ever said that I’m built like a brick house.”

“It’s true! In the best way possible. You’re solid and strong and tough. Safe. Sturdy. Reliable. The metaphor extends past your looks.”

“Thank you, sweet girl. ‘M glad you see me that way.”

He takes a breath in like he’s going to continue but it’s interrupted by getting his chance to turn off the main road and into the first destination of the night — the Tastee-Freez that you and Joel had talked about visiting when you were kids. Come to think of it, there’s a good chance you would have been there at the same time when you were younger.

A nostalgic grin crosses your face as you look over at Joel, a sheepish smile on his face. He scans for a parking spot, finds one, and lets go of your hand to stretch his arm behind your seat, twisting around in his as he effortlessly backs into the spot.

Why is it so attractive when a guy does that?

At the walk-up window, Joel stands slightly behind you with his hand rubbing up and down your back while you both act like you’re reading the menu when in reality, you’ll get the same thing you’ve been ordering for years.

It was a quick wait until you were up at the window to order, Joel’s hand still on you.

“Ladies first, darlin’.”

For you, it’s a vanilla-chocolate twist soft serve in a cone with chocolate hardshell dip.

For Joel, plain vanilla with butterscotch hardshell.

And yes, you had to give him a little shit for that.

The two of you find an empty picnic table at the side of the building, sliding onto the benches across from each other. Joel rests on his elbows on the table, leaning closer to you while his right leg slips between yours as if you’re a magnet. In between bites and licks of ice cream, the two of you reminisce together about coming to this particular establishment as kids, and then as teenagers, rowdy and causing trouble in Joel’s case.

“That poor kid!”

“Oh, c’mon. He was eleven and it was Tommy. He doesn’t need your sympathy, darlin’. He was askin’ for it.”

“No eleven-year-old deserves gettin’ an ice cream cone to the head when he was talkin’ to his first crush! I can’t believe you were such a cruel older brother back then.”

“Cruel? I wasn’t cruel. I was building character. Now he’s a slightly less annoying pest.”

“That’s such bullshit, oh my god!”

Easy banter bounces between the two of you, stories running off on tangents and revealing details to each other about yourselves. Laughs and flirty passes are shared, Joel insisting on you trying his cone after you dogged on his choice again. You ended up swapping, Joel giving you the last bite of chocolate dip that your original cone had before finishing it. Flimsy paper napkins stuck to your hands as you attempted to clean up the drips that covered your skin, giving up and running to the bathroom at the back to wash your hands quick. Joel emerges at the same time as you from the men’s, giving you a smile and catching his hand with yours as your strides match up.

“Ready for the next surprise?”

“If it’s anything like this one, you have my full trust.”

“So glad you said that, ‘cause I actually booked us an appointment to get matchin’ tattoos.”

Your face drops, gaze snapping over to Joel and rolling your eyes when you see the playful twist of a smirk on his lips, humor in his eyes. Gripping his bicep, you shove him to the side gently, Joel not getting too far with his hand anchoring him to you.

“Quit fuckin’ with me!”

Joel’s head falls back as he laughs, slowing his walk as the two of you approach the truck again. He opens the door for you, grinning sweetly and pursing his lips.

“Can’t help myself, you look cute gettin’ fucked with. All flustered and wide-eyed.”

He winks before kissing your temple, a heat crawling up your spine and settling in the back of your neck. After helping you into the car, Joel’s back in the driver’s seat and eases the car out of the parking lot. He takes a right, heading back in the direction of your neighborhood.

About three miles from home, he takes a left and drives a bit further west. The radio plays quietly, a comfortable silence filling the car. His hand rests on your thigh again, half of his fingers slid underneath the hem of your sundress. His gaze is straight ahead on the road, and you take a moment to study his chiseled profile.

Familiar trills of piano and a bright, full voice rings out from the speakers. An excited gasp drops your jaw in a short inhale, your hand reaching for the volume dial to turn it up. Don McLean’s American Pie plays loudly into the truck now, a wide smile on your face as you look over at Joel next to you.

“I fucking love this song!”

The slower introduction seamlessly transitions into the upbeat, classic summer song as you roll your window down all the way. Your arm falls out of the opening, hair blowing in the wind as you start to sing along with Don.

“Do you believe in rock 'n' roll? Can music save your mortal soul? And can you teach me how to dance real slow?”

Your eyes shut tightly while you nearly shout the words, laughing in between the lines.

Joel’s own laugh interrupts your singing of the rest of the verse, and you sit up quickly to turn toward him.

“Sing along! I know you know how Miller. I saw your guitar and your daughter likes to tell me about all the songs you sing together.”

“You sound much better than me, darlin’. I like listening to you.”

“C’mon, please! For me?”

The song continues to play while the two of you project back and forth, Joel giving in to your own pleading puppy eyes and joining in with you on the chorus. His voice is gruff and bluesy, and suddenly it’s your favorite sound besides his speaking voice. The two of you start to shout the words, carefree when you pull up to stop signs and dance in your seats. Joel holds his hand in a fist over to you, your own hands wrapping around it and using it as an air microphone. He brings it back to himself, bobbing his head while the words effortlessly fall from his lips.

The river comes into view between trees, and a smile finds your face as you realize where he’s taking you. Another place you’d mentioned in passing that he’d paid attention to.

Parking up at the lookout point, the song fades into the next one. You turn the volume back down, sighing happily as you take in the view of the sunset starting. No other cars are around, the two of you alone in the spot you love to visit when you come back home during the summers to watch the sunset fully unobscured.

“You’re a good listener, y’know.”

Joel turns to you with a coy grin tugging one corner of his mouth up. He shrugs and rubs his hand against your thigh.

“Easy to remember things about you.”

The simple sentence strikes a chord in you, your heart beating faster and gut swirling with a warm, airy feeling. You can’t think of anything to say to him to convey what you’re feeling, so instead you unbuckle yourself, sit up and scoot over across the bench seat to his side. Your gaze only drops from his eyes to glance at his lips before you kiss him. It’s slow and syrupy, stretching your insides like taffy. Your tongue melts with his, soft whimpers being swallowed as Joel’s hands grip your thigh, gathering you across his lap. His hands move around you, pushing the steering wheel up as far as it could go and adjusting his seat back to give you more space to sit comfortably. Once the seat is settled, he wastes no time finding the flesh of your ass, hands slipping under your dress and moaning quietly when his fingertips brush against the lace of your panties.

“Wore somethin’ pretty for me, darlin’?”

“Mhmm. Wearing those white ones you like so much.”

“Fuck me.”

A giggle falls from your lips against his, the bulge of his jeans growing under you. His large hands on your ass push you down and grind his hips up against your covered pussy. The center of them sticks to your folds, your own hips swaying in the same rhythm. Heady kisses continued, Joel pulling away to attack your neck with kisses, licks, and tiny bites. All that comes from your mouth are whispers of his name.

Beneath you, you can feel that Joel is rock-hard. Saliva floods your mouth, an image of him in your mouth right here in his truck playing in your mind. A jolt of adrenaline kills your nerves, confidence filling your chest as you pull away from Joel, moving to sit at his side on the bench again. Joel stares at you inquisitively, his lust-hazed mind taking a moment to catch up until your thoughts become clear when you pop the button of his pants and drag his zipper down. His hand lays over yours, eyes locking with yours.

“You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart.”

The anxiety starts to crawl back, and before you lose your nerve, you shake your head.

“I want to. If you want to. It’s okay if you don’t, we can forget—”

“Definitely want to, darlin’. Definitely. If you’re comfortable,” his hand sweeps over your cheekbone and down your jaw, a tender grin crossing his face, “You ever done this before?”

Shaking your head, you bite your bottom lip.

“Never, um, with my mouth. But with my hand, yeah.”

“That’s a good start, cariño. I can teach you how to do the rest, but you show me what you know.”

You kiss him again while he pushes his jeans down to his kneecaps along with his boxer briefs, his cock springing up against his t-shirt. Your lips pull away from his as your head stares down at his lap, licking your lips. Joel’s voice rumbles low as he mumbles.

“G’head, pretty girl.”

A long exhale is quiet out of your nose, your tongue wetting your palm before your hand wraps around the base of his thick cock, starting languid strokes along the length. Pre-cum pebbles out of the slit at his tip, your thumb ghosting across it as your hand reaches the top on the next stroke. A short hiss squeezes out from behind your Joel’s teeth, his hand gripping your side while his head finds a place in the crook of your neck and his mouth continuing to pepper kisses and nips against your skin.

The pace of your hand speeds up, a faint moan from Joan vibrating against you.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Feels good,” another sigh of a moan cuts him off before he adds, “Think you wanna try with your mouth now? We’ll take it slow.”

“‘M ready.”

Joel helps you get comfortable kneeling over him on the seat and you feel the burn of his stare when you bring your mouth down toward his dick.

“Just start with the tip, darlin’. Y’can kiss it, lick. Only take it in when you’re ready.”

You follow his gentle instructions, kissing his tip and feeling his pre-cum coat your lips where it meets his skin, licking the spend before running your tongue across the tip. The sounds from Joel above you go straight to your aching pussy, your panties completely soaked without his touch reaching there. Your kisses drift down his length, tongue tracing over the veins before your mouth returns to his tip, taking the head into your mouth and hollowing your cheeks.

“Oh, fuck. That’s so good, baby. Just like that.”

At his encouragement, you swirl your tongue around him in your mouth before lowering your head and dropping your jaw wider to take more of his large cock. Joel instructs you to use your hand on the rest of him, following the same rhythm with your fist when you start to move your head up and down. He moans your name, hand resting on the back of your head and fingers tangling in your hair. You work your mouth on his cock, your free hand slipping between his legs to give attention to his balls.

“God damn, sweetheart. Sure you haven’t done this before?”

His breaths are short and you feel his balls tighten in your hand. He twitches in your mouth and he rasps out that he’s close. You’re desperate for him to come in your mouth, taking as much of him as you can before it sets off your gag reflex at the back of your throat. The loudest moan you’ve heard from him rumbles out of his chest, soft “fuck”s following it.

“Gonna come, sweet girl, fuck. Don’t have to take it in your mouth.”

Your lips leave him with strings of saliva tethered from his cock to your mouth, shaking your head quickly.

“I want it in my mouth.”

Joel’s eyes darken, nearly black, a flash of deep desire in them.

“Think we both know you got better manners than that, sweetheart.”

Your cunt flutters around nothing as his commanding voice, whimpering as he tugs your hair gently to look at him.

“May I please have your come in my mouth?”

“What are you forgetting? Ask again.”

His own hand works his cock, sweat pooling in the exposed skin at his collar.

“May I please have your come in my mouth, sir?”

“Good girl,” you relax next to him, bending over his lap again as you hear him give you permission, “Go on, pretty girl. ‘S all yours.”

His cock fills your mouth again, the tip gagging you again and muscles tightening around him send him over the edge, warm come spilling onto your tongue. You try to catch as much as you can before it slips down him from your mouth, his hand at the back of your head pulling you off to look at him again.

Awestruck, blown pupils stare at you as you show him his spend on your tongue, closing your lips and swallowing. He groans your name, breaths slowing while he watches you use your fingers to clean around your mouth, sucking your fingers before licking his cock clean of his come.

“God, you’re fucking incredible.”

He kisses you deeply, cupping your chest with one hand and thumb brushing over your hard nipple. You settle back with a proud smile, shrugging casually.

“Got a good teacher, I guess.”

He kisses you again, sighing softly as he pulls away.

“Better be ready for another lesson when I get you in my bed tonight. But I think you’d just qualify this one as a lecture. No need for student participation.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. Gonna make you come with my fingers and then on my mouth. You want that, baby?”

Your head lulls in a nod, a smirk crossing your face.

“Yes, sir.”

Joel groans, shaking his head as he mirrors your smirk.

“You’re fixin’ to be trouble with that, aren’t ya?”

“Yes, sir.”

You wink as Joel tugs his boxers and jeans back on, not bothering to button them. After the two of you get buckled, he backs out of the parking space, shaking his head again as he starts back to his house, driving a bit faster than before.

“Mi pequeño diablo, my little devil. Who would’ve thought you were such a naughty girl?”

Falling back against the pillows at the head of his bed, a film of sweat coating your naked body with a sheen and chest heaving to catch your breath after your third orgasm from Joel. He’d sped back to his house, only slowing down to drive normally down the neighborhood streets to not draw any attention to the two of you. Once you’d made it back, he’d virtually carried you inside with how quickly he was moving behind you and guiding you up to his bedroom.

His fingers had coaxed the first out of you, straddling his lap at the edge of the mattress after a heavy makeout session. His lips spilled out Spanish, translating for you after he’d let it all out.

“Te ves tan hermosa cuando te corres, cariño. Quiero que lo hagas una y otra vez solo para escuchar tus pequeños sonidos y mirar esa cara. You look so beautiful when you come, sweetheart. I want to make you do it over and over just to hear your little sounds and look at that face.”

Dressing you down to only the lacy set you had worn for him, he worshipped your body with his mouth, pressing kisses and marking you with lovebites as he got you completely naked. Teasing your nipples, fanning his breath over your wet cunt, he roused you up to use his mouth to make you fall apart all over again.

After his taste of you, he begged you to let him do it again.

“Just one more, sweetness.”

“I can’t do it, Joel, ‘s too much.”

His fingers worked you open slowly again, whimpers falling from you as he sends you soft encouragements.

“You can take it, pretty girl. This pussy was made for it, made for me to play with.”

It didn’t take much more convincing after he said that, his thick fingers and mouth pulling out that third ultra-sensitive orgasm from you, his name moaned repeatedly from you as you look down at him using his tongue to clean you up.

You finally caught your breath, exhaustion rushing over you as your hazy vision watches Joel clean you up with a warm, damp washcloth. Your eyes fell closed, turning on your side on his bed and using the last of your energy to slide under his comforter. The bed sinks when the weight of him joins you, strong arm wrapping over your side and tugging you closer across the sheets. He’s bare besides his fresh pair of boxer briefs.

“You sleepy, my sweet girl?” His voice is low and raspy, lulling you into the warm slumber.

“Yeah, but I wanna stay up with you.” You fight the feeling of falling, peeling your eyes open and stretching your lips into a drowsy smile when you see Joel’s affectionate look.

“‘S alright if you wanna go to bed, we’ve got the morning, too.”

“No, no. Just ask me a question, if I keep talkin’ I’ll stay awake.”

Joel chuckles, his smile showing off his teeth as his hand reaches for the side of your face, brushing your hair behind your ears.

“Alright, rapid-fire questions, sweetheart. Favorite color?”

“Green.”

“You?”

“Purple.”

“Childhood pet?”

“Dog. German Shepherd named Roxie. She was the best.”

He laughs softly again and nods.

“Had a mutt we found in our neighborhood. His name was Mancha. Means Spot, or really stain, in Spanish. My mom thought she was hilarious.”

It’s you laughing now, grinning widely.

“That is hilarious. Is she—is she still around?”

His lip twitches, eyes darting from yours for a second.

“No, she passed away when Sarah was two. Dad’s been gone since I was seventeen.”

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

You skate the pads of your fingers across his cheek in a tender touch.

“Thank you, darlin’.”

He punctuates his statement with a kiss on your forehead, hand tightening at your hip before he continues.

“What was your first impression of me?”

Your skin heats and a sheepish smile crosses your face, shaking your head.

“I was hoping you would never ask me this,” you groan before dropping your eyes from his and studying your finger as it creates constellations of the freckles on his chest, “I saw you first from my living room window getting out of your truck when you moved in. I thought you were really attractive; probably would’ve said hot. I thought it was kind of funny that you were yelling at Tommy, and I could see your whole demeanor changed when you grabbed Sarah out of the car. You just lit up and it was so endearing. And then I was immediately embarrassed when you noticed me and waved to me.”

“Y’know, I saw you way before that day, sweetheart.”

Surprise twists your face, wide eyes meeting Joel’s.

“What? What do you mean? Are you a stalker?”

“God, no,” he laughs before he caresses your cheek, thumb brushing back and forth, “It was the first time I toured the house. It musta been your Spring Break or somethin’, but you were sittin’ in the hammock in your backyard when I walked out onto the deck in our yard. Thought it was nice to see what the neighbors were like. Then you got up and walked towards the deck, and I really saw you when you got closer. Felt like the wind got knocked outta me, you were just so beautiful. Like the sun was radiating off of you that day, kinda— what’s the word?...Ethereal. I was sold on the house already, but the chance to see you again, meet you, was the cherry on top.”

You swallow audibly, breath caught in your throat as you look at him tenderly. Leaning over to him, you press a gentle kiss to his lips and say quietly.

“Bet my pajamas and bedhead look on your moving day had you second-guessing your choice.”

All he does is shake his head, a smile plastered on his face.

“Not a chance, my sweet girl. Not a chance.”

Conversation slows as both of you grow more exhausted, Joel turning to lay on his back and tucking you into his side. Your ear rests over his chest, the strong, steady thump of his heartbeat drawing you into sleep, not before pressing one last kiss to his skin.

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#joel #writing #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #neighbor au #hot & heavy #joel miller smut

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brain-rot-central · 5 months

Text

A preview of something I'm currently working on.

Born from an idea that Astarion would struggle immensely in the first few months after the events of the game. Healing trauma is rarely ever linear; there are many ups and downs to trek through before making it to the other side with newly found knowledge and strength.

Astarion's story encompasses so much of what one does to just survive when that's all they have left. This is a take on what his first few months post-main story might be like.

TW: references to disordered eating, abuse, adult themes, depression, poor mental health. Absolutely not "cute, cuddly Astarion." Our boy is sad, here.

You've saved Baldur's Gate from the Cult of the Absolute, destroyed the Netherbrain, and removed Cazador from the realm of the living. You both weren't sure what would come next. Your feelings for one another bloomed on the battlefield, fighting side by side. Neither of you knew if you'd see the following day, or what that day would bring.

Your fires burned brightly, intertwining out of a mutual desperation to live. To be free of every puppet master pulling at the strings of your destiny. To return to living a life that was truly your own.

Yet, now that it was here…

Both of you were clueless how to navigate the aftermath.

You'd agreed to an attempt at cohabiting. Astarion had his reservations at the beginning, though he’s since thawed to the idea. As for yourself, it took a bit of time for you to adjust to living with another person.

You lived alone prior to the Nautiloid. You were an urchin, having grown up on the streets of the Lower City for much of your life. You kept various blades hidden throughout your dwelling on the off chance an unwelcome visitor decided to drop by overnight. Astarion found most of them not long after moving in with you. He was slightly unsettled, but stated whimsically that he'd think twice before upsetting you going forward.

It had been months since the defeat of the Netherbrain, though Astarion still harbored many doubts. He'd often struggle with intense feelings of inadequacy and shame. He’d be ridden with such intense guilt that he'd lock himself away in your study for days, slipping out quietly during the night to hunt. He didn't dare let you see him in such a state.

And he didn't hunt often during these particular odd spells. Astarion will use his insatiable hunger as a form of self-discipline, purposely starving himself for days on end.

It's a repeating cycle. You don't quite understand why he does this to himself, and your attempts at getting him to speak never succeed. You settle on giving him space as being the best course of action.

When he inevitably emerges from his isolation, a different sort of hunger envelops him.

He seeks you out from your place within the house. Arms wrap around your waist from behind, and you feel the weight of him fall against your back. He buries his face in your neck, and you hear him inhale a shaky breath.

“Oh, hello,” you say to him, softly. “Are you feeling better?” You turn your body within his arms to face him. You push yourself onto the tips of your toes and nuzzle your nose against his.

He groans in mild protest and closes his eyes as you kiss the tip of his nose. “Somewhat,” he replies. He casts his eyes to the floor. “Missed you,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Guilt clouds his eyes as he stares at the ground. “I missed you, too, Astarion.” He winces his eyes as you speak, his brows furrowing. Your words pain him, though you never quite understand why.

“I… I-I’m sorry,” he says with a shaky breath. You feel his hands begin to roam up your back. He grasps handfuls of your dress within his palms.

You step back from his hold, his expression dropping and his eyes staring wildly into yours. He's beginning to panic, overwhelming feelings of disgust and rejection displayed on his face. He's ready to run. He needs to hide again.

You bring your hands up to clasp each side of his face. “Astarion, listen to me,” you tell him, sternly. “I don't know what's going on in your head all of the time, but I'm here.” You guide his forehead down to rest upon your own. “You do not need to apologize for your darkness. I am here.”

The panic in Astarion's eyes begins to settle, and the tension ebbs from him. You step closer to him, still holding his face. Your lips graze his, and suddenly he's on you. One of his hands holds the back of your head and he crashes his lips onto yours, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

He asks to deepen your kiss with gentle passes of his tongue, and you part your lips and accept him into your mouth. Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and you moan into his mouth.

“Need you,” Astarion begs between kisses. “Please, darling.” His voice is hoarse and rushed.

You pull your mouth from his, a small string of saliva connecting your lips in a brief moment. ‘“Do you hunger?” you ask, resting your forehead once more against his.

“Always,” he breathes out.

“Take me, then.” You kiss him gently once more. “Lose yourself in me, tonight.”

He shutters above you, hearing the same words he's deceived you with once before. He played a game in the beginning. Had a carefully thought out plan, designed to have you within his thrall. His plan fell through horrifically, and these same honeyed words now carry a more significant meaning.

Living with Astarion is intense, to say the least. Cyclical.

Nights of passion come in waves where you lay panting together, letting the breeze cool your sweat-soaked bodies. The only sounds heard during your couplings are the repeated slapping of his thighs meeting your behind with each of his thrusts, and your wanton moans as his length drags deliciously against the inner walls of your cunt. He fucks his apology into you thoroughly, and you couldn't be more happy to accept it.

This part of the cycle always starts off the same. You inform him that you're going to freshen up, and make your way into your shared bath. Astarion takes this as an opportunity to make your otherwise drab bedroom inviting for the coming main attraction. He places candles around your bedroom, lighting them as soon as he hears you stepping into the tub.

He blots on a bit more of his signature cologne: bergamot, brandy, and rosemary. He knows you enjoy this scent, knows that it brings you comfort. He strives to please you in every way possible, especially if it means making such a selfless act more enjoyable for you. He wears his ruffled blouse untucked, and loosens the laces of his trousers just enough to allow for what's to come.

You’re freshly bathed, a towel wrapped around your torso as you emerge from the bath. You enter your shared bedroom while drying your hair with a smaller bath towel, looking around to survey the soft ambiance of the room.

You see Astarion laying out on your bed. He's laying on his side and your eyes meet, the flickering candlelight causing his eyes to shine like gemstones. His eyes are hooded as he watches you move toward the bed.

You sit on the edge of your shared bed, feeling a faint flush spread across your face as you hold his gaze. Astarion glides a hand over the space on the bed next to him, a clear invitation for you to come closer. Your breath hitches and you bring your hands up to undo the towel covering your body.

You watch his eyes narrow as he follows the towel fall freely off your chest. His chest rises as he sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes scanning over your now-bare form. You feel paralyzed within his sight, though also proud. His reaction to viewing your naked form is similar with each encounter, solidifying that this is likely genuine. The thought brings you a sense of peace, willing you forward.

You begin to climb onto the bed and toward your vampiric lover. The bed dips beneath your palms and an all too familiar scent floods your nostrils, becoming stronger as you inch closer to him. You realize then that Astarion had reapplied his cologne while you were in the shower, just for you. The smell is intoxicating. So enticing, that you mindlessly continue crawling toward yet another brush with death.

A rush of uneasy energy surges through you as you reach Astarion. You fold your legs under you, and shaky hands come up to gently cradle both sides of his face. His eyes are molten lava that is melting through your core. He’s refuted your past claims of him charming you prior to these encounters, and your doubts continue for this very reason.

On these nights, your body becomes his. His to possess and manipulate however he pleases. You subjugate yourself to him, trusting him to take only as much as he needs from you. Trusting him to take you through the night and deliver you safely to the dawn. He's been honorable, thus far.

Though, there is always a time for everything.

His hand comes up to cover your own on his cheek. Astarion turns his face into your hand, kissing your palm. “Are you sure you want to do this, love?” he asks. His voice is a soft whisper.

Ruby red eyes glare up at you through hooded lids. His expression is soft, pleading. You quickly realize he's asking for more than what he's said. It's the one question he's never dared to put to words, though asks repeatedly in other ways.

You sigh and nod your head. You know the question he truly is asking, one that he's yet to ever form into words. “Yes, Astarion. I trust you. I trust you to not lose control.”

He seeks the constant reassurance that you accept him as he is. A constant reminder that he is more than the monster Cazador created.

#Astarion #astarion smut #astarion angst #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #fanfiction #drabble

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spookykoolkat · 8 months

Text

the red j.m. | chapter five

CHAPTER FIVE: FORFEIT

series masterlist | main masterlist | previous chapter |

pairings: older!joel miller x plus sized!younger!reader

chapter summary: joel has been acting colder than usual towards you since your encounter in his living room, and when it turns out that tommy paired you up with joel for a last minute adventure on your first day of patrol rounds, you were infuriated.

warnings: 18+ age gap (joel is 57, reader is turning 26), inappropriate thoughts, sexual language, teasing, touching, x-rated descriptions, crude language, mean!joel, mean!reader, mentions of past su*cide attempt, brief mentions of breeding, dacryphilia, cockwarming, p in v, oral. descriptions of sex acts, explicit. MDNI!!! minors r not welcome on my page

wc: 7.6k

na: the smut will be coming soon i promise. lioterally next chapter. I TOLD YOU IT WAS SLOW BURN! but omg i think this is one of my fav chapters lol

MONDAY DECEMBER 23RD, 2024

YOU

the weekend was dreadful. naively, you believed somehow it was a miracle that joel gave you the attention he did on saturday night. no, you just realized it was something he strongly regretted. sunday morning, he woke up without a sound and left as swiftly as he could.

he was avoiding you.

it was so bizzare to you. everything happened so fast and life became as domesticated as it could be for you in this world. you were living with a man and a girl, and now there’s an odd sexual tension between the two of you that you were possibly misreading. it was inevitable, you were deathly attracted to this man. joel miller.

it’s like somehow being around him and ellie almost healed a part of yourself, you didn’t know what but you felt you could be yourself again. honestly, being in jackson sort of healed a part of you. you were finally getting the chance of finding yourself, finally figuring out what being you meant and who you are, and it was because you were here in jackson. because you actually had two people in your life that you could actually try to begin to trust.

but that doesn’t mean he never pissed you off. and it doesn’t mean that he was never an asshole.

it was four thirty in the morning when he slammed the door shut on his way out, and forced you to get up and grab all your shit for your first patrol shift. it was supposed to be from six in the morning to eleven in the morning, giving you the first shift of the day. you noticed joel had been taking nights with tommy occasionally, leaving at six in the evening and coming back close to one in the morning.

he chose to be on the lookout longer, searching longer, doing more than he needed. he was thorough, and for that you respected him. besides his hostile attitude, he was a natural hunter, killer, forager. of course, you could only assume. you hadn’t seen him in action the way ellie and tommy have.

tommy told you to meet him at his house on your first day, and you complied. you were expecting to see tyler standing with tommy outside of his house when you walked up, but this man was not tyler. the thick coat he wore would’ve made it impossible to figure out who it was, had you not seen that coat before. but it was in fact the coat you brought home for him after a shift down at the local buy and trade shop, something you picked up because it was in his size and you knew with the torn hoodies and sweaters he had, none would suffice to keep him safe when he’s out in the cold.

this was the man that made you clench your thighs when he was angry with you, the man who saw you as vulnerable as you were that night, the man who spoke nothing but dirty things in your ear then left you high and dry, ignoring you even as your footsteps crunch in the snow.

“where’s tyler?” you said loudly over the heavy winds and snow, getting closer to the broad figure. it was the man you’ve thought about since saturday night, the man that ignored you even now.

“me and maria decided you needed an expert ‘stead of a rookie, but since maria is pregnant i wanted to stay, so i put ya with the second best of jackson,” he said clamping down on his brother’s shoulder, “my big brother,” his smile was way too big for this early in the morning, and you internally rolled your eyes.

“i don’t need an expert, i’ve been out there by myself for years. i can handle myself,” you spit sourly. even joel felt it slash through him a bit, the pure disgust on your voice wasn’t easy to fake and a part of him felt bad. but he knew what he was doing and why he was doing it.

tommy looked between you two, facing opposite from each other. “just precaution, don’t need ya gettin’ lost.” you could tell tommy felt some sort of sympathy for you, understanding how cruel his brother could truly be.

you scoffed. maybe tommy did feel bad for you, but if he did you wished he would keep the faces he makes to himself. you didn’t need pity. you needed to not be stuck with joel for a couple of hours.

just great. “i need y’all to search this abandoned town a few cities back, ain’t that far, maybe two hundred, two fifty miles west. figure’s it’d be better takin’ the horses,” so not a couple of hours.

tommy practically gives the two of you a list, a list of things that he and maria needed, and places to search for the infected.

“we need soap, and medical shit like gloves, anythin’ works,” he said and you nodded. this seemed a little less like patrolling and more doing duties for him. maybe it was both, but you were a little disappointed.

“baby steps, a’right?” tommy said, sensing the disappointment on your face and rubbing your arm to warm you up a bit.

“joel’s got you,”

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oh it was torture. you and joel would be on this mission for two days. this wasn’t patrol, this was a favor. this was a job taken on by those who weren’t fighters, but could protect themselves. the people who scavenged abandoned towns, homes, cities near jackson to see if it’s worth expanding or if there’s anything they would take. but this wasn’t what you wanted to do, you didn’t want the soft version of what joel did.

whether you wanted to or not, you worried that he didn’t look at you as capable since the first time he met you you were lying face down in blood soaked snow that formed into a ring around your body. not only that, but when you finally awoke, you tried to take your own life in front of him. you couldn’t blame him if he thought that way, it just made you more weary about your strength and if he would be right to think that way.

you were desperate to prove yourself to him, for no particular reason. you just wanted him to see that you didn’t need him like he thought you did.

“where are we gonna sleep?” you asked as the click clack of the horses began to pick up. you rode right next to him, following his lead with the map.

“wherever we can,” he muttered, unhappily might you add.

“i mean, what are we doing joel? this is not me patrolling,” you argued to yourself, and he sighed loudly as he looked back down at the map.

“no, it ain’t. but it’s a taste. stop tryin’ to kill yourself,” he spit and you closed your mouth quickly. you were actually a little offended. he actually got you to shut up, and it felt like shit.

because he was right. you jumped into everything so fast, getting yourself hurt when you told yourself it’d never happen. so, you just shut up and listened to him when he told you where to go. you didn’t want to fight with him because really, you couldn’t take it. you’d want him to take you with the fury in his eyes. maybe you were mentally deranged for being so distracted by him lately, figuring out that everything about him sends you into a frenzy. this was ridiculous, you were ridiculous.

you know it’s wrong. but joel made you feel something that nobody else has. he challenged you. he wanted you to snap back at him and bark your insults at him. he may not admit it, but he liked that you had something to say to everything. your attraction was only growing for him, and you were ashamed of it. the man won’t even look at you and you’re ready to open your legs from one glance?

the sun was rising at this point, passing empty farms and abandoned shacks while joel inspected the map tommy gave him. he was frustrated, you could clearly tell through his grunts and swear words that he spilled. so far, it’s been clean. no infected, no people, nothing but emptiness and nature covered in snow. your gun was still in your hand, ready to aim and shoot but for now you just watched joel.

he refused to ask for your help because he felt like he was lost. maybe it was his sight, but he truly thought that he mistook a walking trail for a road, derailing the two of you. he was a proud man, and was embarrassed to ask help from a twenty something year old.

he refused to be the one needing help on this globetrotting the two of you did.

“joel?” you talked for the first time in two hours, and he shot you a glance over his shoulder, you riding a little behind him now.

“what?” he grumbled, and you sped up to catch up to him. his heart picked up when he heard you so close.

“are we lost?”

it was hard for him to be angry with you when your voice fell so soft for him. he noticed the way you spoke to people you didn’t like, or didn’t care for. bored, short and cold. just like him. but even when you didn’t notice, he heard the gentle tone you used with him. maybe it’s because you’re a live fucking wire who kills everyone you ever loved and she knows you’ll blow up on her too.

“no, just-” he stalled and you followed as he flipped the map around, acting like that will solve the issue. you quickly reach over to snatch the map from him, shaking your head and not listening to his noise when you start reading the lines.

“just stop,” you said and halted your movements. you moved the map around and found your location now, and the circled location on the paper. joel watched you with frustration and embarrassment, but you wouldn’t know. you weren’t the best at picking up social cues.

“just go straight. it should take you to a road, and turn right then.” you answered, shoving the paper back into his hands and continuing your journey. you waited for him to ride off first so you could trail a little bit behind him, and he did, not giving you a second glance.

it was one hour, then it was two, and then it was three. three turned to five, and finally a break was taken. joel wanted to go as much as he could before he needed a rest, to take a piss, relax his joints. you, on the other hand, wanted to keep going.

“get there to and back faster if we keep going, just wasting time.” you mumbled to him as you leaned against a tree while he came back around from one, adjusting his coat. the two of you stopped in the middle of the woods that you were forced to cross through, snow falling slower now. the trees were still, and as was the shallow river nearby.

“do you ever stop complaining?” he finally spoke, but nothing but annoyance dripped from his words as he leaned against another tree, collecting himself.

“only when i don’t have shit to complain about,” you bit back, rolling your eyes as you watched the stream of water rush.

“you don’t have shit to complain about,” he argued and you scoffed.

“alright joel. just, let’s go. the sooner we’re there the faster i can get the fuck away from you.”

“we live together,” he said matter of factly.

“no shit joel, oh my god, can we just go?” you were so fucking irritated with him. the only thing that came out of his mouth to talk to was to just piss you off even more. he acted like he wasn’t practically breathing down your neck not even three days ago.

“you’re so damn irritating,” he mumbled as he gathered his things from the snow and swung his backpack over his shoulders, along with his rifle.

“oh, yeah, right because you’re a real fuckin’ joy to be around.” you spit. you quickly left without him, being much quicker on your feet than he was, and got to your horse before he did.

“don’t do that shit again, “ he spit at you when he reached his horse. of course, referring to the fact that you went off without him. joel was, needless to say, pissed off. and of course, again, you seem to be the root of his anger. you couldn’t lie, and you fought hard to keep the smile from creeping on your face at your realization. you actually enjoyed when he was angry because of you. you felt strong enough to have that power over him, at least some sort of power. you just knew how to press his buttons, and he knew how to press yours.

but just as you took joy in pissing you off, he enjoyed to watch you bite back and get equally as angry as he does because of you.

“it was fifteen feet joel. I know what i’m doing.”

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it was nightfall when you got to the small town outside of jackson. tommy was off by fifty miles or so. so far, still not running into anything that could kill either of you. taking the horses cut down the travel time by half had the two of you walked, and suddenly you were grateful because joel still won’t talk to you after the little spat in the woods.

it was bothering you an insane amount. you had no problem being unwanted and unwelcome, but this was excruciating for you. you just wanted to knock him off his horse and force him to be nice to you.

you were behind joel, a little off to his right when you rode further into the eerie town.

it wasn’t until you and joel stopped in front of a supermarket, tying the horses to nearby trees. the two of you walked into an abandoned supermarket that greeted the entrance of the city, stepping over the frame of the automatic doors that were broken. and as reckless as you were, you just so happened to step on the broken glass of the automatic doors that crunched under your boot. joel shot you an angry look, in a way that says ‘way to fucking go, smart one,’ when the snarling came from the back of the supermarket and you shot one right back. you start to see the pale figures running towards the two of you down the aisle in front of you.

you and joel hadn’t shared a word since you helped him with the map, so when he tells you to get behind him you don’t listen. you hear angry words, but you don’t listen. a part of you was still angry even when your very life was being threatened, it was true that maybe you held grudges for way too long. you weren’t paying attention to him, you fell into fight or flight and moved to the side of joel and around the cash registers to shoot bullets at two of the angry bodies running at you full speed.

the thing is, you didn’t want him to have to save you. you didn’t want him to have something to shove in your face later on, a debt you had to repay to him. you also didn’t need him to survive, you didn’t need his protection. even if you wanted it. you knew he might just throw it in your face one day.

joel was distracted, and caught off guard. of any time he could be distracted he chose now, too distracted by the way you quickly maneuvered around him without even noticing. too distracted by the way you just proved you could handle yourself, and then some. and too angry that you never listened to him.

and his stillness was because joel felt the same anxiety, the same nervousness he felt seeing you hold a gun to your own head, and actually felt his chest grow tight. he just froze. this wasn’t like joel, he was always on his toes, eager for bloodshed. but now, it’s pure fear and anxiety. you saw it when you finally noticed the clicker that was close enough to take him apart, and wondered why he wasn’t shooting and instead gripping at his chest. you called his name out, getting his attention and the clicker, raising your gun you shoot three times to watch the clicker drop to the floor.

“what the fuck joel?” you hushed as you tried to breathe normally again, trying to make sure there weren’t any more infected either on the way or here in the store.

“are you okay?”

“you didn’t listen to me, goddamnit,” he spit and quickly ransacked the store for whatever he saw on the list. you felt your head spin. was he mad at me? you thought.

“joel are you okay? that was, that wasn’t,” you didn’t know how to say it without making him look weak, ignoring the anger that took over his body. you didn’t even care about the tone and how enraged he sounded, you were worried about him.

“stop talkin’ and keep watch.” he was so sharp, so cold.

you sighed and kept watch like he said, walking around the front entryway as joel rushed to grab what was there. you were sure that the sound of the gunshots would’ve sent a plethora of clickers your way, but it was nothing but the sound of wind.

you were just so angry at him. his very existence and the fact that he still treated you like you were hardly there, it sent a certain rage to your body. you didn’t understand how this was your fault. how anything was your fault.

you had no choice but to follow him, so when he pushed past you with a fuller backpack you followed his lead. you could feel the heat coming from his body as he walked by you, and you knew he was angry. you tried to rack your brain what for. you just basically saved his life.

he was angry that he just proved again that he failed you. he got lost on the way here because he couldn’t see, and felt a sudden rush of fear hit him all at once. he was weaker, weaker than he’d been when he was traveling with ellie.

it wasn’t long before the two of you rode into a neighborhood and found streets of abandoned houses, cars still in driveways and swing sets still in the front yard. it was so eerie, creepy. this was somewhere people lived, created families here. now it’s a ghost town. it was nothing.

after the two of you tie up the horses again, he finally speaks.

“we’re gonna check all these houses, and sleep in one. listen to me for fuckin’ once and stop acting like a fuckin’ kid. come back here if shit goes south.” he demanded ugly, and you glared at him, actually taken aback.

“you know what joel-” you started but he waved you off.

“go.”

you were angry. god were you so angry. looking through house after house, floor after floor, room after room and all you could think about was telling joel off. you occasionally found something tommy and maria were looking for, batteries, a bottle of soap here and there, gloves, alcohol. but, you took everything after you made sure the coast was clear.

it might’ve taken you and joel about three hours to check every house on the block, some being too destroyed and in ruins to even search through. you looked at the watch on your wrist and the time flashed 12:56AM. and you were still angry. not only were you angry, but you were very much sexually frustrated.

how dare he act like that one night and act like i dont exist the next? you were fuming..

joel waited for you as you walked back to the first house on the street where you split up, and as he watched you walk towards him he noticed a scowl on your face. anger in your eyes and irritation, but he didn’t care.

“nothing. i’m going to bed, goodnight.” you spit, telling him there were no threats and no harm. you walked into the small house and went into the back rooms to look for a bed, finding one bed and couches in the living room. when you walked back to the living room, joel was already standing inside.

“you need to listen to me when i tell-” he began but you groaned and threw your backpack on the floor, taking your gun to put it in between the cushion of the couch where you plan to sleep.

“no joel, i’m not doing this shit with you. i’m capable, alright? you’re so fuckin’ angry at me for no reason and want me to just let you take it out on me,” you said loud enough for it to be taken as hostile.

“what the fuck happened? you didn’t,” you breathed, “you didn’t shoot or anything you just froze joel, what’s wrong with you?” your voice was rising, heat rising to your face and you just stared at him.

“you’re gonna get us fuckin’ killed, you’re just a fuckin’ brat.” he spit at you, and you scoffed.

“yeah okay joel, i’m a brat. i don’t know shit, i’m just a little stupid girl that doesn’t know shit, right? keep deflecting, keep saying nothing’s wrong when you look like you were having a heart attack,” you say, “you know you’re one to talk, you’re fuckin’ childish you know that?”

“i’m childish?” he asked, surprised. deflecting.

“really? that’s what you have to say? nothing about the fact you almost died?”

“yes you’re childish. you come onto me, and can’t even face me after it. you’re angry at me and for what? didn’t talk to me this whole way and why? cause you regret it? man the fuck up joel, i don’t care if we talk or not but what a fucking partner you’ve been. aren’t you the one supposed to keep me safe? not the other way around?”

he didn’t respond. you just saw his eyes go dark as you threw pillows off the couch for more room. he knew you were right, and you didn’t want to argue with joel right now. not when you had another day to spend with him, and having to go back home with him. but you were still so angry, at the audacity he had to call you a kid earlier. to act like you were the problem, you couldn’t help it.

“I act like a kid? please,” you scoffed even louder, “I saved your fuckin’ ass back there, really you should be kissing my fucking toes. you have some nerve, man. you might scare everyone, even your brother, but you’ll never fuckin’ scare me. you’re crazy if you think you do.” you laughed genuinely, shaking your head to rid yourself of the redness in your cheeks from your rage. and before you stopped going in on him, you had to top it with the cherry.

“maybe if you weren’t such a prick all of the time, ellie would actually want to spend time with you.”

“shut the fuck up,” he seethed and you laughed again. that might’ve not been the best idea, but you weren’t know to have the best ideas. his fists were clenched at his side as he stepped closer to where you stood, you just waved him off.

but he knows who his anger is really directed at. he couldn’t be angry at you, well he could, but not forever, he knows. he was angry at himself, angry that you had to risk yourself to save him. angry that you had to do anything for him actually. he was supposed to be your protector here, and now you were his? he felt weak. he felt, almost useless. if you can protect yourself and him, you would never need him then. he was angry at how right you are, and how right you’ve been.

“i don’t regret it,” he said as you sat on the couch with your back facing him.

you sat in silence for a bit before you responded, wanting to make sure you heard right.

“what?” you asked, turning to face him.

“i don’t regret it.”

you truly didn’t know what to do. you didn’t know if making a move was the right move, and you felt like you were going to do something you regretted.

you stood up again, and walked to stand in front of him. you needed to see him, to watch him as he watched you.

“you don’t regret what, joel? touching me?” you asked, getting another not so smart idea. maybe one that would flip the entire dynamic of this bond you had. “then touch me, joel.”

he was taken aback more than you thought, and you saw the internal fight he put up with himself as he looked over your face and body.

“i can’t do that, sweetheart.” was he really denying you right now? asking him to finally touch you and he says no?

“why not?” you said, reaching for his shirt. you didn’t care anymore. your anger was turning into desire for every minute you were alone with him, and you wanted him to take you in this abandoned house more than anything. maybe it was pathetic, but you couldn’t help the wetness that was pooling in your panties from his soft glare.

“i’ma mean old man, you don’t want me to touch you, don’t think i’d be too nice with ya,” he said with fake confidence. he wanted it so bad, he wanted to let you take his hands and put them anywhere he wanted. and even in your black hoodie that zipped up with your tight jeans on, he wanted to feel every inch of you. he wanted to believe he was doing the right thing by saying no you, but fuck it did not feel right to him. what would feel right is if he was buried in that cunt of yours for as long as he wanted.

“nice? you’re never nice, actually you’re jackson’s biggest asshole, but i was never expecting nice from you. i’ve wanted,,” you breathe and let your palms rest on his warm stomach, the small pouch he put on while he was finally eating meals under your touch. he was so warm underneath, knitting your eyebrows together in irritation when you realized he could’ve been keeping you from freezing all night. you didn’t care if he was nice to you anymore. you could handle mean, roughness, you could handle anything he wanted to give you.

“you’ve wanted what? talk to me, sweet girl,” he whispered, giving in to your needy tone, taking his fingers and grabbing your chin to look at him, his eyes. god his eyes. the wrinkles around them creased with every facial movement, usually his eyes were a brown, hazelish glaze but now they’re pitch black. something else in his stare. desire and lust. he couldn’t help but indulge himself when he heard you wanted something from him. because he wanted to give you everything.

you weren’t angry anymore. you were in admiration. you were enjoying being this close to him to see every detail and line and crevice on his face. you wanted to rub his cheeks, feel his skin under yours, but you couldn’t let go of the coat he had on.

“i’ve wanted you to make me feel good. but, you’re just so fucking angry all of the time it’s like you hate me. so i hate you more.” you rolled your eyes at him and he just stared at you.

he was soaking your words in. his thumb was rubbing over your chin, too close to your lips when you avoided his gaze. even now, you were still spewing your snarkiness at him and all he wanted you to do was beg him to make you feel good. but even being a brat, you looked so fucking pretty to him. eyes wide, mouth parted, your hands rubbing over his chest and abdomen—he needed your touch everywhere. he knew you could only be a brat for so long with the way you were leaning into his touch.

he was cracking, and so were you.

“i could never hate you, doll. could never tell a pretty girl like you no, ya fuckin’ kill me,” he softly chuckled, leaning into your face close enough to feel his breath on your lips. his hands move from your chin, slapping himself for taking back his word, and letting them fall on your wide hips.

“jus’ always so eager, ain’t that right? bloodthirsty little thing you are,” he teased, referring to the way you looked almost excited to pull your gun out and use it earlier. he liked it, and in his mind he felt like he was the only one who could tame you. the only man that could be man enough to handle all of you the way you deserved. tyler would never be able to pick you up and throw you face down on the bed, he’d never be able to even touch your pretty pussy the way she deserved.

his lips grazed the skin of your neck, and you felt something wet glide across the salty skin. his tongue was eager to taste you, so substituting your pussy for your neck was his best choice. if you weren’t already wet, you were now.

“joel, just, god you’re so fucking frustrating,” you grunted as you curled your fists into his sweater. your wetness was soaking your panties at this point and the throbbing of your clit was making you frustrated.

he just chuckled. “what do ya want baby,” he breathed, now dangerously close to your lips after he trailed small kisses from your neck to your cheek.

you didn’t really know what you wanted now that he asked, and really you were too damn nervous to say the words. i want you to fill me up. pump me full with your cum. tell me i’m yours and you’re mine. what if you scared him off with that? what if you said it out loud and it made everything so much more real? not just touching and flirting? it was too much to ask for. to even ask for anything from him, you felt like a burden.

“fuck you joel,” you breathed and whimpered, “you know what i want, just fuck me already, or are you too old to take me how i want?” you were desperate for him even if you were being mean about it, and he was loving every minute of it.

you needed him, his cock, his fingers, his tongue inside of you. and you saw how your neediness made him smug, his anger dissipating into nothing but adoration for you. he lightly tapped your ass at your old man remark, and narrowed his eyes at you, but relaxing them again when he saw a long overdue smile on your lips.

“fuuuuuck,” he drew out with his southern accent, “why are you so fuckin’ hard to say no to when you’re such a pain in my ass?” he asked himself. you felt him grow hard against your abdomen as you clenched your thighs and pulled him tighter to your chest. you needed the friction, but you needed it somewhere only he could give it to you.

“because i’m askin’ so nicely?” you suggested playfully, distracting yourself from the burning in your core. he practically smiled against your lips.

“that was nice?” he asked and you hit his chest playfully.

“i can’t do this with you, it just ain’t right,” he tried to resist again.

“you don’t seem like a man who does the right thing, joel.” you said smartly and he rolled his eyes at you before sighing.

“don’t fuckin’ do that, don’t try t’ guilt trip me. you’re fuckin’ trouble.” he’s saying it roughly, but the hard on he has pressing into you says otherwise. before you could take your hands to his cock, he’s grabbing them to remove them and pushing back from you, retracting himself. his self control was thinning, he wouldn’t be able to resist you if he was standing that close to you for another second.

“you’re an asshole, y’know that?” you said sharply, moving yourself away from him with the sting of rejection on your heart. you turn on your heels and start to walk away from him, wanting to escape to the dirty bathroom.

“it ain’t like that and you know it,” he defended from behind you and you shook your head.

“yeah i can tell! let me see, you make me tell you how i want to fuck you and call me baby and sweetheart and all this bullshit, then you tell me you want to do the right thing.” you paused and looked at him, “you get upset because i almost fucked someone, put your hands down my panties, and the next day you hate me. then you’re always fuckin’ mad at me, and then say i’m tryna guilt trip you into fucking me,”

“i mean what the hell joel. all you have t’ say is you don’t want me and we can fuckin’ leave it at that,” you spit and turned around. he just stared at you still with a hard look on his face, but something on his face that reads he isn’t exactly upset at you.

the silence thickens and a minute after a stare down between the two of you, he looked away. the switch that he had flipped so quick, and you’ve seen it before. how could he act so normal when he was throbbing in his jeans and you were staining your panties wet?

he kind of thought you were going to look away first, but now that you were so angry with him he could use it as a way to keep his distance. he knew exactly what he was doing. he was white fanging you. and he was doing it successfully.

“goodnight.” he said quickly without looking at you, and he walked past you to the back hall. you were turning back to sit on the couch as he took the bed until he came back out with all of his things in his arms.

“take the bed.” he ordered and you huffed.

“i’m fine out here,” you argued.

“take the bed.” he wasn’t budging.

so you gathered your things and huffed away to the bed, still thinking about the way he spoke to you when you decided to just leave your shoes on and sleep. you thought about why he’d trade you for the bed, it being this comfortable you figured he’d take it for himself. he was an old man, looking for comfort in anything he could.

you wondered why after all this he was still insistent on doing the right thing. you felt like doing the right thing was out of the question already with the way he spoke so crudely to you. you knew he wanted you too, you knew he was fighting himself to not touch you how he wanted.

but he had that instinct. the people he cared about before him. always. he couldn’t let himself delve into the possibilities of what would happen if he did do exactly what you wanted. he knew he was no good for you even if you tried to put this image of being a tainted person up. he knew that though you might think the two if you are similar, that he was far worse than you thought.

he couldn’t compete with the idea you created of him, that he was this holy protector that did everything to keep his loved ones safe. while he did protect, he was also taking. he could take no credit of the hero title, he never felt like one. to protect his family, he tore people’s families apart.

he didn’t know how, or when, but he knew he was going to hurt you if he let himself be smitten by you. he was going to make you really hate him if he gave into you, if he let you control him the way he feels like you do. he couldn’t let it happen. not tonight.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

DECEMBER 24TH, 2024

joel was right when he said you’d be home by nightfall had the two of you left before sunrise. the two of you were back before midnight after awkwardly gearing up and leaving promptly at four in the morning. it gave you time to explore the surprisingly empty city, yet still managed to have most of what tommy and maria needed.

to occupy your mind from joel’s eyes burning holes into your back as you took the responsibility of holding the map, you thought about what could’ve happened to that small town. it was eerily empty. something about being there made you feel like your stomach was churning, like someone was watching you.

you wanted to bring it up to tommy and maria when you met back with them that night, and even bring it up to joel when the two of you finally settled back into the house you hadn’t been in. but no words were spoken again, leaving an uncomfortable silence between you two that ellie noticed.

it was just the two of you once again in an empty house as ellie left to spend the night at a friend's house again. joel told her this time to tell someone before she leaves, if she left.

the clock struck twelve in the morning the minute the door slammed behind you, and without saying a word you trudged upstairs with a sigh and slammed your bedroom door. it felt childish, but that’s what this whole thing was.

you were throwing a fit that he wasn’t even acknowledging you unless he had to, yet you didn’t even know if you fully wanted him in the way you thought you did. the thought of having a companion, in this hypothetical situation let it be joel, and having someone that close to you again scared the shit out of you.

you’ve always had commitment issues. always had a fear that you’d duck and run before something bad could happen between the two of you. some people call it self sabotage.

you threw all of your gear sloppily in the closet that was on the same wall as your door and rummaged through the suitcase to grab a pair of panties and a shirt. you needed a shower, and you were desperate to just lay your clean head against a pillow and black out. you couldn’t bring yourself to think of joel anymore, and as you mindlessly walked to the bathroom that was on the second floor you heard the door to the bathroom open.

unfortunately, it opened right as you were grabbing the knob and before getting the chance to look up at the familiar scented man after the door swung open, the hand that gripped his towel around his waist unclenched.

you didn’t know if it was your surprising appearance that caught him off guard, or the fact that he didn’t expect anyone to be there in general, but he stilled and his hand involuntarily flexed, dropping the plush towel from his hips. joel felt the breeze before he even realized his fingers let it slip, but still kept his eyes on you.

you were staring. you knew you were staring, of course you knew you were staring, but you couldn’t give a shit. he was hard. you saw the throbbing immediately, the way it jerked and hit his abdomen when the towel dropped, how disgustingly big he was compared to anything you’ve seen. realistically as you practically drooled over his cock, you thought it was eight inches max, but the girth somehow made it look more swollen, more to take.

if you were any other random woman he was housing for the time being, he would’ve immediately picked up the towel to cover and excuse himself as he scurried embarrassingly to his room. if you had been any other woman that had tried to throw advances at him and purposely tried to see him in the shower, he would’ve hated the look you were giving him.

he wanted to hate it even more because it was you, but fuck do you look so sexy and you made him feel sexy. it wasn’t often he felt desired since he was an older man, and now that you’ve given him a lick of it, he was addicted to how you were put into an immediate trance. you were looking at all of him in all of his glory. and with your help. joel had been jacking off in the shower before he got out, stroking his angry tip to the thought of putting it between your lips.

he was going to allow himself to indulge just that one time. he promised himself. but he wasn’t a good person. he wasn’t a good, honest man. he was a liar, and a sweet talker, someone who knew the power of persuasion. he could have you if he wanted to, could’ve had you on your knees in the shower for him while he rubbed a thumb over your cheek.

he knew what he was capable and yet, he settled for fucking his hand thinking of your cunt. but the good man in him, the honest man in him was pleading to escape. plotting his escape.

you couldn’t stop gawking at his cock. it was peppered with long veins, one specific one trailing down from the tip to the base of his cock, and you could actually see the precum dripping down his angry, throbbing tip.

to him, you stared as if he was the last man on earth. and he enjoyed the attention so much he wanted to show you just exactly how much he appreciated the way you desired him.

it took self restraint from dropping to your knees right now, to feel his tip hit the back of your throat so he can shove his way into the tight walls of your throat. you imagined the noises he made, how he would talk to you, how he’d praise you. you craved it now.

you were in awe, maybe even a little scared. all of your fantasies and imaginations finally had something to base off of, and now that you saw how girthy and long he was, you were intimidated. there’s no way he’s that big. god, he’s almost 60!

finally, after what seemed like an hour but really was just a minute or two, you closed your eyes shut and cringed at how you must’ve looked, how obvious you liked seeing him like this. and how smug joel must look with how easy it is to get you to surrender yourself to him.

you memorized the way he looked though. the dark curls that gathered at the base of his cock, trailing up to his stomach before thinning out right below his belly button and the little straight line of sparse hair trailing up his stomach a bit. the way his thighs looked so thick and strong, perfect for you to take a seat if you wanted because you’d have no doubt about not hurting him with your weight, the way his rough hands clenched into fists at his sides and the way his stomach wasn’t the most toned but was firm and still wet, tan.

you knew if there was any chance of being able to actually sleep with the man, it'd take some finessing to fit all of him in any of your holes. but even though the size was intimidating, you could just tell that the stretch he'd provide sliding inside of you would be everything you've ever wanted.

you wanted to feel his body under your fingers while you sunk onto him, watching him watch you. you needed him, and you couldn’t fucking understand why this desire and urge was coming out now. to feel so strongly about him that it frustrated you to tears, it was morbid because this was based on pure attraction.

he didn't know you, you didn't know him. not really.

you were inching closer and closer to your downfall with every look over of his body. but he was loving it.

“i’m, god, i’m sorry, i was just—shower, i needed to, wash uh,” you breathed as you opened your eyes again and looked away as he grabbed the towel from the ground. “just, you know. get clean, wash certain uhh–areas, and stuff.”

joel was thoroughly amused. you actually managed to shift your eyes around to see that he was fully covered again and he was in fact grinning smugly at you. you’d never seen joel express any other emotion other than negative, and it sent heavy fluttering to your core and throughout the tendons of your thighs.

“‘s all good, honey,” his voice was hoarse, raspy and god did it make the slickness start to run down your cunt and into your panties. “go ahead,”

joel slide between you and the door frame, breathing you in without shame and letting you feel him graze the cloth covered throbbing length against you, smiling to himself at your body’s reaction.

you quickly shut the door without looking at him again, releasing a long breath that you had been holding. again. you were angry because he knew exactly what he was doing. he was torturing you, and took all the pleasure of doing so.

joel actually expected you to fold right there, in front of him while he was hard all because of you. he expected you to break and ask him why he’d been ignoring you, again, and tell him how you want him. he honestly expected more than just a stare from you, he couldn’t read your face exactly so he couldn’t tell if you enjoyed the view or not.

but after your babbling and messing your words up, he knew it wouldn’t take much more to break you. suddenly, the urge to stay away from you so he wouldn’t bring harm to your life was overpowered by the urge to ruin you in every way possible all in one day. he wanted to see your hard shell crack because of him, before you cracked his.

because whether joel wanted to admit it or not, he met his match with you. and god, he wanted to prove to you that maybe you weren’t as strong as you seemed. his sick, twisted mind wanted to see you crying for him, begging him, pleading for him to make you feel good. he wanted to see you break for him, he wanted to be the only one to see you fucked out for him. he accepted the fact that being away from you and not being able to touch you as he pleased wasn't going to last any longer.

he was just waiting for the right moment.

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queen-haq · 2 months

Text

Fic: Never You - (Penelope/Colin) Part 1

Rating: R

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)

Spoilers: S3 scene released yesterday.

Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn't giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.

Excerpt:

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

Part 1

Penelope stared out at the pond, her last conversation with Colin still running through her mind. I miss you. Few months ago his words would have sparked incredible joy in her but hearing his smug confession last night had elicited nothing but rage. Even now an explosive anger threatened to burn her from the inside out - but she reminded herself to stay composed. Losing her calm over Colin Bridgerton was simply not worth it, not when she had far more important things to worry about.

“Penelope. How are you?”

Hearing Lady Violet’s voice from behind, she turned around to greet the older woman. Except she wasn’t alone. Of course not. Behind her stood most of her family, Colin and Eloise on one side, Gregory and Hyacinth on the other. Penelope quickly shifted her gaze back to Lady Violet. “I’m quite well. How are you?”

“You haven’t paid us a visit in a long time.”

Penelope sensed the scorn vibrating off of Eloise in waves, but she ignored her former friend. Even though her soul ached at the loss of their friendship, a part of her had already grown resigned to their new reality. “I’m afraid country life has kept me busy all these months.”

“Well, you’re back now. I hope to see you at the house more often.”

There was no mention of the falling out with Eloise, nor did Penelope expect there to be. Especially with Eloise pretending she no longer existed. Her eyes roamed over to her friend, only to be ignored. Inevitably her gaze slid over to Colin, and she suddenly found herself the recipient of his intent focus. Somber blue eyes penetrating her through to her very core, making her rattled and anxious and breaking down the very calm façade she worked so hard to build.

Throughout their entire friendship he’d always been sweet and funny, filling her dull world with hope and color, but the night of her mother’s ball she’d seen the kind of cruelty he was capable of. It was a side of him that she never wished to see again. And feeling his piercing gaze right into her soul, in a way he’d never looked at her before, reminded her of how much of a stranger he really was. “Forgive me, Lady Violet, but I must take my leave. Mama shall be waiting for me.”

She quickly walked past the group, breathing a sigh of relief at no longer being under Colin’s scrutiny. Her relief, however, lasted only a few seconds. Because almost immediately Colin was striding alongside her.

“Pen, we need to speak.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Then I’ll do the talking.”

“And I’m not interested in listening.”

“Too bad. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

She cursed his long legs, because while she struggled to keep up the fast pace he seemed to glide along the path without much effort. Short of running away from him, which would surely cause a scandal amongst the crowd promenading, she had no choice but to keep walking.

“I’m sorry. Truly.” His voice was soft, velvety like butter, like he’d practiced the words many, many times in preparation for the performance of a lifetime. “My words that night-”

“Do you know that I read your letters over the summer? Despite my anger, I still read them.”

An unexpected rawness laced his voice. “Why?”

“Because I needed to know. Would I recognize that insincerity in your words now that I knew the truth about your disdain towards me. And do you know what I discovered?”

She finally turned to look at him, and just for a moment the world stopped. Like it always did. His eyes were bluer than the sea itself, a symphony of agony and need, beckoning her towards him. She suddenly found it difficult to breathe, her heart caught in a whirlwind of chaos.

“Tell me.”

It wasn’t a request, nor a plea. It was a demand. As if he was entitled to her thoughts, her heart. Her very soul. Well, damn him. Damn him for playing her for a fool. And damn herself for ever loving him. “You are an extraordinarily talented writer, Mr. Bridgerton. So good in fact that I woulld never have guessed your true thoughts if I didn’t hear you utter them myself.”

“That’s not fair. It was one night, Pen! One night! When I was drunk out of my mind and said something foolish. Are you really willing to give up on me after years of friendship because of something so small?”

“Yes.” Her response was quick and resolute, surprising even herself.

Stunned, Colin stared back at her. “Yes?” The tremor in his voice was unmistakable. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?”

The change in him was sudden and abrupt, taking her by surprise when he moved swiftly to block her path.

The blues of his eyes were so dark they bordered on brown, a storm brewing in them. Staring back at her was a man she didn’t recognize, different from the boy she grew up with,and the man who humiliated her without a thought. This was a stranger in front of her, anger etched on his face, jaw clenched with tension.

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

She didn’t think he could hurt her more, but he managed to do it nonetheless. “I never expected you to court me, Colin. You don’t love me. I’m quite aware of that. But you could have told them there was nothing between us. You could’ve even said I meant nothing to you. Instead you mocked me, derided me so you could look good in front of your peers, and that makes you someone I never want to associate with.”

“I made a mistake, Pen.”

“Miss Featherington,” she bit out through gritted teeth. “That is who I am to you from now on. Nothing more.”

“So that’s it? I make a mistake and you erase me from your life just like that?” He snapped his finger angrily. “Are you so fucking perfect that you’ve never wronged anyone?

They’d been standing still for far too long, their conversation growing more potent every second. All of a sudden she was acutely aware of glances in her direction, people’s eyes sliding over her and Colin, and she realized how dangerous this was. Risking her carefully crafted plans for a few heated moments with him was idiotic. “People are staring at us, Colin.”

“I don’t care.”

“Obviously.” She offered a small smile at the couple who walked past her, trying to appear amiable. “You may not be concerned about my reputation but I am. And I would appreciate it if you stayed out of my way.”

“I’m not willing to give up on our friendship like you.”

His snarky words drew her gaze back to him. “Walk away, Mr. Bridgerton. Let me be.”

“And if I don’t?”

The hint of menace sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. “You would not be the gentleman you claim to be.”

“Perhaps I’m not. Perhaps everything you’ve accused me of is true.” He took a step closer, eyes shining brightly. “Maybe I am cunning and cruel. What then?”

Her heart pounded in her chest. “What is it that you want from me?”

“Forgiveness.”

“Fine. You’re forgiven.”

“You’re lying.”

“And you’re being rude.”

Eyes locked, they regarded each other intently. She didn’t understand what he was doing, why he was behaving this way. Why his stare seemed to be all consuming, studying her, trailing down to her mouth when she licked her bottom lip before drifting back up again. He’d never behaved this way before, A complete stranger in every way. “If you ever valued me as a friend, you would do as I ask.”

“I could say the same. If you valued me, you wouldn’t cast me aside.”

“You can not force me to continue this.”

“Would that be such a hardship? To move past one mistake and leave it behind us?” Desperation brimmed from him, he swallowed audibly. “I may not wish to court you but you are important to me. You’re my dearest friend. I can not envision a life without you.”

She exhaled a long, drawn-out breath. “You must.”

His lips twisted into a cruel plea. “Why?”

“Because I am to be married, Colin!” Instantly she regretted her words, hating herself for letting him provoke her. Yes, it was the truth, a plan that had taken months to carefully develop and plot – and now she’d ruined it by announcing it too early, and to him of all people!

“What?” He faltered back, stunned by her words. “You’re engaged? To whom? Why-”

“All you need to know is that my future husband and I have already discussed the matter and he wishes for me to have nothing to do with you. So goodbye, Mr. Bridgerton, because this the last time you and I will speak alone.” She stormed away, before he could stop her.

To be continued...

A/N - Um, thoughts? Feedback is always appreciated. I'm liking the idea of Colin and Penelope going head to head over the destruction of their friendship :)

#polin #colin x penelope #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #bridgerton #my fics

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h3rmess · 2 months

Text

THE ZENIN GETS ME WETTER

-> fem!reader x cullinggamesarc!maki - suggestive , set post culling games arc, reader has a crush on maki, uni au

notes: I literally have the biggest crush on maki ever known to man. I love her so so much. May be a little inappropriate, so here's your warning now!

Walking into the house, the blaring sound of the music deafened me immediately. It was a Saturday, which meant one thing ; it was time for me to relax and have fun after a long week of hard work and effort ( I attended one class).

My black dress hugged my body perfectly, barely covering the important parts. I felt the click of my heels against the wooden floor, my eyes searching for my friend, Choso. He was my brother's best friend and a family friend in general. My parents had always tasked him with taking care of me when I went out as we attended university at the same campus.

My medical course had been draining the life out of me, so a party is just what I needed to get me feeling alive again.

My eyes landed on him quickly as I extended my arm, waving him over. He wore a white graphic tee with a pair of baggy jeans, the black locks of his hair cascading from two pigtails. His baby hairs sat on his forehead, making the effect of bangs. He gave me a soft smile, which quickly disappeared after he saw what I was wearing.

"What the hell are you wearing?" He shouted over the music, his voice barely audible.

"Oh, come on! It's just a one-time thing. I just felt like being hot today!" I said in reply, smiling widely.

"Yeah, you do look hot, but that's what all the other men are gonna think! Who knows what kind of lewd thoughts they'll be having about you?" He protested, attempting to cover me from being seen by others.

"I'm not interested in what the men think." I told him plainly, my eyes surfing the crowd to see if she was here. Choso rolled his eyes and mumbled at me before I spotted my friend, Yuuta.

I pushed Choso away as he went to join a different group of people, telling him I'd message him later. I walked over to Yuuta, who stood in a corner with a boy who I knew to be Inumaki. He was studying software engineering here. He wore his usual turtle neck, which made me wonder if he would ever come out of his shell a little more.

"Hey, Y/N!" He said, handing me a red cup. I looked at the liquid in it, downing it quickly, the burn in my throat boosting my adrenaline. As I finished up my drink, I looked at the boy who looked pleased to be here.

"Didn't take you as the party type, Yuuta." I teased. "You too, Inumaki. Why are you guys here?" I asked them as they laughed.

"Yeah... we just wanted to try something new, y'know! But I'm not sure we wanted to try something new." Inumaki spoke quietly.

"Fair enough. Parties are always a nice way to let loose." I looked around awkwardly, not wanting to ask the inevitable.

"I know what you're thinking." Yuuta spoke, causing me to look at him promptly.

I hummed at him as my face flushed, causing both him and Inumaki to chuckle.

"She's here, don't worry. Although she didn't seem too happy about it." My face lit up at Yuuta's words, the thought of seeing her making my day.

As if my mind had been read, she strutted toward us within an instant. My heartbeat quickened, seeing her in a pair of tight, black, leather trousers and a black sleevless top to match. My jaw practically dropped as my eyes remained glued to her perfect frame. I almost drooled, my knees giving in, causing me to almost drop down and beg her to hold me. I looked away quickly, trying to mask my pure infatuation. She smiled as she approached us, stopping in her tracks once she was close enough.

"Hey, Y/N. Didn't know you were here." She smirked, swirling her cup slowly.

"Oh! Uh, yeah! I didn't know I would be here either, aha... But here we are!" I stuttered, my embarrassment engulfing me when Inumaki and Yuuta snickered.

"Where'd you get the dress? Looks good." Maki complimented, making me go crazy.

"Thanks! It was a gift, actually." I replied, trying not to sound like the lovestruck girl I was.

"You sure are drawing attention with it." Her eyes dropped to my exposed cleavage, causing me to yelp quietly.

Inumaki and Yuuta looked at each other, muttering something about going to the toilet before scurrying away.

Traitors.

I felt my underwear dampen by the second as the girl inspected me, her eyes tracing every line of my dress.

"Who you looking good for, hmm? Can't be doing all this for no reason." She probed, inching closer towards me.

"Well, uh." I hesitated, the alcohol taking over as I became unfazed by the possible consequences. "You."

Her face became strewn with mischief, her hands slyly groping my waist as we were now flush against each other.

"All this for me? I love being spoiled by pretty girls." I blushed at her words, hanging my head slightly. She placed her hand on the bottom of my chin, lifting my head up so my eyes met hers. She leaned in, her breath lingering on my earlobe as she placed a soft kiss on it and whispered. "If you look so pretty now, I wonder whats underneath."

I was soaked.

Her lips met my neck, placing gentle, sloppy kisses along my skin. I hummed at the contact, a feeling of lust completely taking over my body.

Maki Zenin wants me? I must be dreaming...

-> love pnd over here

-> another chapter of 'where our blue is' is coming! just taking me a lil longer than usual but expect something by Wednesday!!

-> this was just something I wrote quickly don't expect too much pls 😔

-> I wanna write more one shots lmk who you wanna see next!! byeee

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #maki zenin #maki x reader #jjk maki #maki x fem reader #fanfic #jjk x reader smut #jjk inumaki #inumaki toge #jujutsu kaisen inumaki #okkotsu yuuta #yuta okkotsu #jjk yuta #jjk yuuta #choso kamo #jjk choso

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cheegu3 · 9 months

Text

Enhypen - the glory (Pt. 4)

summary; after rejecting one of the most popular boys at your new school, you soon realised that you'd done the gravest mistake of your life; these weren't ordinary boys, and now they were set on making your life a living hell - heavily based on the kdrama with the same name

warnings; yandere, bullying, burn wounds, hospitals, swearing, car-crash, suicidal thoughts

genre; yandere

wc; 4.5k

pairing; enha x f.m reader

note; I know this chapter wasn’t very long and the boys barely feature but bear with me I’m trying to build shit up ;-; (I might release pt. 5 earlier than the schedule bc of this!)

masterlist

The wind from below made your skirt fly in the wind. You took one more step towards the ledge, looking down at the place you had seen many times before, back when you almost visited the rooftop every single night.

You wondered if someone would hear you if you shouted out all of your pain; screaming for someone to save you, but would they? Or would they keep walking with their heads dropped, eyes fixated on a phone screen with headphones on to block out the world?

Your feet seemed to move on their own, stepping up on the ledge as if they were too familiar with it by now. The alley below was empty, only big dumpsters and bags of trash were down there. No people passed by. No one would hear you scream here, it was practically the perfect place for suicide as well as murder.

But of course, you never actually took the step that you always yearned for. Like all those other times, you backed away after the wind started picking up its speed, howling in your ear like a beast, daring you to jump.

Your heart was thumping in your chest. Just when you fell to your knees to try and calm down your breathing, you felt something wet and cold land on your bare skin. Sighing, thinking it had started to rain you thought of how you’d have to run while your shoes would inevitably get filled with water on the way home.

But when your eyes lowered it wasn’t rain, but snow. Looking up, you saw many more snowflakes slowly falling down. It quickly started to cover all of you, like a white blanket and you almost groaned in relief when the coldness melted on top of your wounds. They had started to itch all the way from school to the rooftop, so much so that you almost dropped your backpack in the middle of the street to start furiously itching until it bled.

The snow became even heavier. To the point where you almost couldn’t see properly; and the snowflakes kept falling onto the bare skin, melting and soothing the redness while the burning feeling slowly dissipated.

Closing your eyes your hands dug into the piles slowly building up, to spread it all over, sighing in satisfaction. During your sweet euphoria, you suddenly heard the sound of a door creaking open.

Your head whipped around so fast it almost gave you whiplash, and you were on your feet at once, backing away from what could be a potential threat.

No one came out.

‘’ Hello? ‘’

You stared at the door, but no one broke the silence. Slowly approaching the door, you were on your guard the whole time. When rounding the corner you decided to go for it, hopefully being able to catch the attacker off guard so you had an advantage.

You jumped forward and kicked the door that had slowly started to close again wide open. Two pair of eyes stared back at you, widened in terror.

‘’ Soobin? ‘’

The poor guy looked like a terrified bunny, all pressed up against the wall behind him while his fists that were clenched hung limply in the air; it looked like a pathetic attempt at squaring up.

‘’ What are you doing here? ‘’

Your concerned frown shifted into an angry one, and the tone became more harsh at your next words, ‘’ Did you follow me here? ‘’

Soobin who was still recovering from you surprising him, only let his mouth hang open but didn’t look like he was sure what to say, so you cut in before him.

‘’ You fucking creep! Why would you do that? ‘’

He panicked.

‘’ No, no- wait! ‘’ he tried to stop you from moving away from him but you ignored his soft eyes pleading with yours, continuing to back to the spot you previously stood in.

‘’ It’s not like that. ‘’

Your dragging feet kept moving towards the edge, but you still decided to give him a chance to speak.

‘’ Then what? ‘’

Soobin gave you a half-smile, seemingly knowing you were still on your guard and didn’t trust him. He cautiously stepped out onto the rooftop, watching your reaction. When he saw that you didn’t move further away, he relaxed and his head raised to the sky, eyes twinkling at the sight of snow falling.

But It disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared, as they landed on you instead, worry taking over.

‘’ I just wanted to make sure you got home safe, you worried me. ‘’ he sighed.

But he didn’t sound too convincing yet, which he probably knew.

‘’ So you followed me so you could see where I live? ‘’

A harsh scoff left your mouth.

‘’ No! ‘’ he paused, jaw clenching. ‘’ You had this look in your eyes, I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. ‘’

‘’ What look? ‘’

You shifted your weight uncomfortably, feeling like you already knew the answer.

‘’ A look of despair and…hopelessness. Only one, someone who has completely given up and surrendered to their pain would bear. ‘’

You didn’t say anything, but your heart ached painfully.

‘’ Yeonjun has seen it before. He told me. ‘’

Your curiosity spiked and made all manners go out the window. ‘’ Who? ‘’

‘’ It’s fine, we shouldn’t really talk about that. ‘’

‘’ Fine. Then tell me everything you know about them. ‘’

His eyebrows raised in a look of genuine surprise.

‘’ What do you mean? ‘’

‘’ Your dad works with Jay’s dad, I saw them outside your house when leaving. ‘’

‘’ I- uh, didn’t know that was Jay’s dad. ‘’ he bashfully admitted, scratching the back of his head.

You rolled your eyes scornfully, ‘’ And you expect me to believe that? ‘’

‘’ The kids never meet each other. ‘’ he defended, looking like he was starting to get angry. ‘’ Do you know your dad’s colleagues’ kids? ‘’

‘’ No... ‘’

Maybe he had a point. That fact alone didn’t really prove he was guilty. But you had a hard time trusting him because of your past. Whenever you let your guard down just a little around anyone, it seemed that they always betrayed you. Your bullies had sent a handful of bribed students to pretend to be your friend before; all just to watch your reaction, happy to have a friend, be crushed as they finally took them away and revealed their plan. In this situation, it seemed too good to be true that they just happened to have parents that worked together.

‘’ You scared me. ‘’ he repeated, snapping you out of your head.

‘’ The first day you were really nice to me, then the next you act like you want nothing to do with me. I don’t even know what I did wrong! ‘’

His sad tone made you, at last, feel some sympathy for him. You supposed you were pretty rude even though it wasn’t at all what you had planned after finding out they worked together. You were just going to be distant but ultimately exploded because of them dragging you to the gym again.

‘’ I’m sorry. ‘’

His tensed shoulders sunk. ‘’ Thank you. ‘’

You smiled at each other and both seemed to think the same thing at the same time. As the snow piled up on top of Soobin’s head, your attention was drawn back to the weather that brings everyone’s inner child out. So you crouched down to quickly scoop some snow into your hands and you saw him do the same.

Before you could laugh, he threw a huge snowball right at you, hitting your chest and knocking the air out of you, your smile fell off your face.

‘’ Soobin! ‘’

He giggled and tried to run away. You hurried to scoop up even more snow and chased after him, throwing and having the luck of it landing right in his face.

You laughed heartily at the look on his face. He didn’t smile either when it was his turn to get hit, and almost immediately after he surrendered and cried out,

‘’ Okay! We’re even! ‘’

You caught your breath and he helped you get under the roof over the staircase as the snow kept falling intensely. The forgotten phone beeped in your pocket and you fished it out.

Soobin looked at you curiously. You knew he didn’t want to be nosy but his round eyes said otherwise.

‘’ It’s my mom. Finally asking me to visit. ‘’ you groaned. ‘’ I haven’t gone in such a long time. I feel guilty ‘’

‘’ I can come with you. ‘’

‘’ Why would you want to do that? It’s just depressing. ‘’

Soobin shrugged. He didn’t say anything else so you just looked at each other in silence. Your narrowed gaze and his beaming one; until you finally made up your mind.

‘’ Fine. You can come I guess. ‘’

He smiled widely and threw his head around like an excited child before leading the way down the stairs. You wondered on the way down, how you’d actually get to the hospital in this weather. It was practically a storm.

But Soobin answered your question before you could even say it out loud. He opened the entrance door at the bottom of the building and a big black car with tinted windows greeted you.

‘’ You also have a private driver? ‘’

You turned to him.

‘’ Yeah… ‘’ he sheepishly said, hurrying to approach it so you wouldn’t see his ears turning red.

A man who appeared to be in his 50s dressed in a black suit, stepped out of the vehicle. He first bowed to Soobin and then politely to you, which you returned.

‘’ Mr. Choi, we have to leave before the storm gets too bad. ‘’ his voice sounded hoarse like it wasn’t used very often.

‘’ We need a ride to the hospital. ‘’

The driver nodded and immediately got behind the wheel. Soobin turned back and waved for you to come up to the car. You hurried over and he opened the door for you, running to the other side and robbing you of the opportunity to thank him.

As soon as you were both in the car, it started and you were off at a very great speed. The car struggled to get a steady grip when turning out onto the road; it seemed the city wasn’t prepared for the sudden snowfall and therefore no roads were plowed or gritted.

You tried to control the anxiety that kept increasing the longer you spent driving. On several occasions, the car slid too close into the other lane, almost crashing which had Soobin clinging onto you for dear life. Afterward, he’d clear his throat and play it off which made you laugh, despite the situation you were in.

When you turned on the highway, you passed by several cars that had crashed. Police were parked on the bridge and tried their best to wave people off, warning them not to keep driving. For a moment you wanted to tell the driver to turn around like many others did, but the thought of disappointing your mom yet again made you bite your tongue and hold onto the door.

‘’ Are we there soon? ‘’ Soobin yelled over the sound of sirens and the heavy snow hitting the car roof.

‘’ Almost, hold on tight! ‘’ the driver shouted back over his shoulder.

Just then, he had to wrestle with the steering wheel as the tires lost their grip, this time you’re the one who grabbed Soobin. Your heart was drumming widely inside your chest and all you could think about was how stupid you were for standing on that ledge earlier. You didn’t want to die, you couldn’t die yet.

You imagined behind closed eyelids what would happen if you crashed and died in that car. The cycle would likely repeat itself. They would find a new girl to fixate on and she’d be tortured, never having or never taking the chance to fight back. It had to be you, of course.

‘’ Soobin! ‘’

His face scrunched up and he leaned in, struggling to hear you.

‘’ You were right! ‘’

‘’ What? ‘’ he yelled, practically laying on your shoulder now.

‘’ I need you! I can’t do it all by myself! ‘’ you cheerfully yelled back.

A guttural laugh slipped out of his mouth. ‘’ Why are you telling me this now? ‘’

You laughed too.

‘’ Sorry. I just got excited. ‘’

And that was partly true. He didn’t need to know about the fact you wanted to use him because he had more money than you did. Even if you didn’t trust him 100% yet, he would probably be very useful for someone like you, who only had half the power and resources he had.

The car screeched as it came to a jolting stop, colliding with something in front which threw the both of you forward violently. Soobin hit his head while your shoulder bumped into the driver’s seat in front.

‘’ Are you okay? ‘’ you both asked at the same time.

You get out of the car. He looked like he had a bigger collision so you wanted to help him. He reluctantly accepted you helping him in silence, trying his best not to put too much weight on your smaller frame.

Despite him trying to hide it, he eventually had to support himself on the car as his ankle seemed to be causing some pain. At the same time, you saw the head of the driver appear from the other side of the car.

You were about to come around to him but he waved you off and wriggled out of the damaged vehicle with a gruff. The second he was out, panic grew in his eyes. You followed him as he ran over to Soobin, clutching his hands to take a good look at him.

‘’ Are you hurt, sir? ‘’

‘’ No. Don’t worry, I won’t tell dad. ‘’ Soobin tiredly smiled.

The driver sighed as if a huge burden had been taken off his shoulder.

‘’ Why not? ‘’

Soobin turned his gaze to you. His eyes were only half-open and he struggled with his breathing.

‘’ It’s not the first time it’s happened. ‘’

You turned to the driver. You didn’t know why but you felt angry. Why was he a private chauffeur if he could barely drive; crashing several times when he had a young high-schooler to drive around?

He shied away from your glare.

‘’ It’s not what you think, miss. ‘’

You stepped closer to him, which made him step away. His body language screamed of discomfort.

‘’ Y/n, stop it. ‘’

You met eyes with Soobin, who looked almost as angry as you were, and instantly your mood changed. You backed away from the driver who bowed his head in shame, and he only nodded at your quiet apology.

‘’ He doesn’t get paid enough, his vision is only getting worse. ‘’

You all stood in silence as his words hung heavy in the air.

‘’ W-what? ‘’

‘’ I’m going blind, slowly. ‘’

Your eyes flickered around in guilt. ‘’ I’m sorry. ‘’

‘’ If my boss finds out, he’ll fire me. I have a family at home. ‘’

‘’ That’s why I can’t say anything. ‘’ Soobin added. ‘’ But, the injuries are never too bad. One quick trip to the hospital, and I’m good to go. ‘’ he shrugged, trying to light up the tension.

‘’ Again, I’m sorry. That was…really out of character for me. ‘’ you said.

He waved you off for the second time but smiled, letting you know there were no hard feelings. Soobin got approached again and he supported himself on his driver as the three of you slowly started to move towards the entrance of the hospital.

It was a lot emptier and quieter than what it usually would be around this time, probably due to the snowstorm outside. The lady at the desk’s head raised at the sound of your footsteps.

‘’ Hey. What can I help you with? ‘’

‘’ I’m here to see my mom, I’m her daughter. ‘’

‘’ Name? ‘’

You dug out the paper you always kept in your schoolbag with all the information that was needed. She took it out of your hands and her eyes scanned over it before she gestured to the hallway on the right.

You took the lead, Soobin and his driver following at a much slower pace behind. The hallway was too familiar at this point. Years had been spent walking down it, and now you felt bitter at the thought of having to redo it all over again as your mother relapsed just a few weeks ago. She had insisted on you not visiting, even though it made you feel guilty; and she had done such a good job at ignoring your first messages, that you actually hadn’t thought about her since you yourself were in the hospital with the burn wounds.

When your hand touched the door into her room, you wondered what she would say about them, so you quickly decided it was best she’d have nothing to say at all; pulling down the sleeves to make sure they were covered just in time for you stepping in.

‘’ Y/n! ‘’ your mother exclaimed joyfully.

She seemed to remember the role she’d been committed to just a second later, for her smile got replaced with a scowl.

‘’ Why did you come here when I told you not to? ‘’

You ignored her scolding.

‘’ I brought my friend, Soobin. ‘’

Your mom’s angry eyebrows turned into question marks. ‘’ Your friend? ‘’

‘’ Yes? ‘’

‘’ I thought those lovely young men before were your friends. ‘’ she hummed, looking out of the window.

You and Soobin stared at each other. The same fearful expression mirrored on your faces.

‘’ I didn’t know you had made so many new ones. ‘’

‘’ Mom- Who were they? ‘’

She sighed exhaustedly and held her head as if it just hurt to think about it.

‘’ There were so many of them. I think…seven, how could I remember their names? ‘’

Soobin put a hand on your shoulder, sensing how you were going to worry.

‘’ Are they- ‘’

You pushed past him and slid the door open. The hallway was empty closest to your mom’s room, no relatives resided outside them and no nurses patrolled it; but then your eyes continued to shift further down, and in the distance, you saw them.

The door to a room got closed as Jake, Jungwon and Ni-ki joined the other four who were waiting outside. Your heart was in your throat. Immediately you shut the door and turned the lights off.

‘’ They’re here. ‘’

Soobin heard the urgency and panic in your voice and tried his best, despite his injuries to hurry over to the corner of the room. Outside, the voices grew louder.

‘’ Mom, please be quiet ‘’ you whispered to your mom.

She seemed bewildered but stayed quiet, gaze fixated on the small round window on the door just like you and Soobin who were holding your breaths had. If they decided to visit your mom again, you’d be fucked. From where you were standing, you were only out of sight if they peeked through the glass, but not enough in hiding if they stepped in.

They got closer. You could differentiate their voices now. Shoes shuffled closer and you felt yourself unconsciously press harder against Soobin. Your heartbeat grew louder and louder, eventually drowning out the voices that were starting to sound muffled.

‘’ Y/n, they’re gone. ‘’

Soobin tapped you and you released a breath you didn't realize you had been holding in. The dizziness went to your head but he helped you steady yourself.

‘’ Shit, sorry. ‘’

‘’ What was that about? ‘’

You looked at your mom again and gave her an apologetic smile.

‘’ Sorry. We have to go. But I promise to visit you soon again! ‘’

She didn’t answer in time. In under a second, you’ve dragged Soobin out of the room and closed the door, quickly turning your back to your mom so you wouldn’t have to see her face.

The hall was empty again but you wasted no time running to the room you saw them leave out of. If they happened to come back, at least you knew what they were up to before getting caught.

A quick peek into the window told you the room was empty, so you slid it open swiftly and went in with a lot of confidence. A girl lay on the bed in the middle of the room and she backed up against the headboard upon seeing you.

‘’ No, wait! ‘’

You approached her bed, hands up to try to calm her distressed self down.

‘’ We’re not here to hurt you. ‘’

She didn’t move from her spot.

‘’ Isn’t that a girl from our school? ‘’

Soobin stepped further into the room. You were about to get irritated at his interruption but, at his words, you took a better look at the girl and realized he was right. She was a student, one year below you.

Your eyebrows furrowed. ‘’ How do you know them? ‘’

‘’ I just got injured. ‘’

Her arm that stuck out from under the covers was in a cast, and the other arm which laid on top had some familiar wounds on it, the burn marks.

‘’ You didn’t answer my question. ‘’

‘’ We’re…friends. ‘’

Neither you nor Soobin looked rather convinced. While thinking of what to say next, Soobin took your hand to talk outside, out of earshot of the girl. He sat down on the bench and rested his face in his hands.

‘’ What do you think? ‘’

‘’ A new victim? ‘’

‘’ Does this mean they’ve forgotten about me? ‘’

‘’ Let’s hope so. If they’re not keeping tabs on you, it makes it easier to get revenge.’’

He voiced out the thought that had popped into your head as soon as you saw the wounds. You felt terrible about thinking that way though. A part of you wanted to jump in and intervene, but that would bring attention to you if they really had forgotten about you for a moment.

At the same time, why did she look so scared when she saw you? Surely, they must’ve told her about you, right?

‘’ Where do we start? ‘’ Soobin mumbled.

You both sat in silence. A feeling of unspoken hopelessness surrounded you two. It felt like a dilemma, you were stuck at a crossroads.

‘’ What does your dad do? ‘’

Soobin looked taken aback. ‘’ He works for the mayor of Seoul- ‘’

‘’ What! ‘’ you almost screamed, making him jump. ‘’ Jay’s dad is the mayor of Seoul? ‘’

He nodded innocently, pouting at your tone change.

‘’ Fuck. I don’t…know. I don’t think there’s much we can do. ‘’

The two of you sat in silence for a really long time, both heads working overtime to try and come up with something.

You started to chew on your lip. The foot that had been tapping rhythmically out of anxiety, stopped abruptly as an eureka washed over you and made your eyes light up.

‘’ Soobin! ‘’ you gasped. ‘’ You- You’re our key in! ‘’

His eyes widened, but he still looked a bit confused.

‘’ They haven’t seen us together since the first day since you were late. We have a chance of fooling them, making them think we never became friends. ‘’

His eyebrows rose. ‘’ And, you want me to pretend to be their friend? ‘’

You eagerly nodded.

‘’ We need someone on the inside. I don’t know if I can trust Sunoo yet. ‘’

‘’ But me? Y/n, I’m the worst actor! I will fuck up almost immediately. ‘’ he whined.

Your hands found his, and you looked at him earnestly; a spark of newfound hope written all over your face.

‘’ Please. ‘’

Soobin ticked his tongue and looked away from you. He looked like he was fighting on the inside, yet it didn’t take long for him to sigh, ‘’ Fine I’ll do it, for you. ‘’

You squealed with joy and had to hold yourself back from hugging him. It was still necessary to keep some distance, so that if he betrayed you; you wouldn’t be too affected, and hopefully had a backup plan.

His face lit up as a shy smile spread on his face when watching your reaction quietly. It was quite quickly replaced with a determined one seconds later. He took out his phone and handed it to you.

‘’ We’ll have to have some code-name for each other, and you have to go into settings to make sure previews are off. ‘’ you rambled as you received the phone and put your number into it.

He hummed.

‘’ Like baby or something? ‘’

‘’ What? ‘’

Your cheeks heat up.

‘’ If I just tell them you’re my girlfriend, they won’t question why you’re texting so much. ‘’

‘’ Oh…’’ you swallowed, gathering yourself. ‘’ That’s pretty smart. ‘’

You put in the nickname Soobin suggested and then handed the phone back. He shifted on the bench beside you and you got the feeling that he wanted to leave for some reason.

‘’ Do you need to leave? ‘’

He looked guilty. ‘’ I promised Yeonjun I’d be home before six. ‘’

‘’ Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then. ‘’

He smiled back at you warmly.

‘’ Remember. We’re not friends at school. ‘’

You jokingly looked offended which made him laugh wholeheartedly. He waved you goodbye before slowly disappearing down the hall. It took several minutes for you to get up from the bench and gather your things.

When you passed by the door of your mom’s room, you smiled sadly. However, it became forgotten as your phone vibrated in the pocket of your jacket. You fished it out and instantly the gloomy look you’d been wearing turned happy.

5:45 pm

Unknown sender: Hi, did you miss me?

You laughed out loud. It had been what - ten minutes since he left, and he was that excited to text you.

You: Maybe, did you?

Unknown sender: I always do

You rolled your eyes. Was he seriously flirting with you now? Your fingers quickly tapped over the keyboard to send back when your phone pinged as another message came through at the top. Clicking on it, you got ready to tease him about being clingy.

5:46 pm

Unknown sender: Hi, it’s Soobin. Please add my number!

Your stomach dropped.

taglist; @ayadikreino, @beoms-sugar

#kpop yandere #yandere kpop #enha the glory #yandere enhypen #enha x reader #yandere enha

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wintaerbaer · 11 months

Text

things we don’t say: part 2 (kth)

banner credit: @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slooooow burn, angst, fluff

word count: 11.4k

chapter warnings: IN THE SOOP TAE, swearing, alcohol consumption, feelings?, implied sexual situations (not for oc), that chicken fight game you can play in a pool (definitely not the animal cruelty kind, just want to clarify), bartender jungkook (who is also an absolute MENACE), infidelity, namjoon’s chest

a/n: we’re heading into the thick of things now! thank you to everyone who has shown this series love thus far. and even to those who may be silently reading, i appreciate each and every one of you. these characters have been in my head for years, and it’s so incredible to finally get to share them!

PREVIOUS // SERIES MASTERLIST // MASTERLIST

Read on ao3

You’re starting to think you might be a terrible friend.

It's been a week and a half since Maya's art show when Jimin slides into the chair next to you in your office building's cafeteria. You've worked at the same company since graduation but in different departments, so while you don't see each other every day, you occasionally grab lunch together or pop over to each other's desk for a quick chat.

"Hey, stranger," he chirps, setting his food on the table before peering closely at your face. "Almost forgot what you looked like."

You roll your eyes at him. After the incident at the gallery sent your brain into an emotional spiral, you had decided to put some distance between you and Taehyung until you could figure out what the hell this all meant for your friendship. As a result, you hadn't been over to the guys' apartment since then—an unusually long amount of time for you to stay away.

Jimin frowns at your lack of a response, leaning forward until you look at him. "You avoiding us?"

"No," you say simply, busying yourself by taking a bite of your lunch.

"Sorry, let me rephrase. Are you avoiding Tae?"

You chew slowly, carefully considering your words before settling on, "Why would I be?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking. For a friend of course." Jimin shrugs. "He mentioned that you haven't really been talking to him—asked if I knew why. Plus, you missed two Sunday meal preps."

"I've missed them before—"

"Two!"

You purse your lips, guilt creeping in at the thought of Taehyung spending two nights cooking alone as you broke your tradition. "You can tell him what I told him—I've been busy."

Jimin frowns again, watching you stare at the table as you chew another bite. "Is something going on? Did he say something to you?"

"About what?" you ask, eyes snapping up to his.

"I..." he hesitates, suddenly uneasy. "I don't know. I just know that I've never seen you two like this."

"Like what?"

"Apart."

You give a dry laugh, more out of nerves than anything. "Chim, we're not literally attached at the hip, you know? We have our own lives."

"Yah, you know that's not what I mean." He sighs. "I can just tell he's missing you, that's all.”

If getting called out on missing meal prep nights made you feel guilty, then this is the true slap to the face. Taehyung may be mild and introspective by nature—a quiet force in his own right—but he holds close those who are dear to him, and you know he can't be pleased with your recent silence.

Still, any guilt tingling through your veins inevitably winds up outweighed by the memory of the flash of heartbreak that had crossed his face at the party, reinforcing your need for space.

"Well we'll see each other in a couple days," you murmur, a tiny burst of excitement breaking into your mind at the thought of your upcoming vacation.

Property of Jungkook's family, the beach house rarely used by his parents had become a staple for your friend group over the years as the go-to site for New Year’s parties and summer holidays. When Hoseok and Sunny had lamented the astronomical cost of the wedding and how they were going to opt out of having bachelor and bachelorette parties to help save money, Jungkook had offered up the house to do a combined pre-wedding bash to celebrate their upcoming nuptials.

Jimin taps his fingers on the table, looking at you quietly before accepting the change in topic. "It should be fun. Jace coming?"

"No, he has that conference."

"Damn," Jimin huffs. "Does that guy ever get a day off?"

"Guess he had to afford the ring somehow," you say, the corners of your mouth tilting up on impulse.

Jimin smiles back. "And here I was, wishfully thinking we might get a front row seat to a proposal this weekend."

“Not his vibe.” You scrunch your nose. “He never went to the house as frequently as everyone else. And I don’t know if he’d want a bunch of other people around. At least not people who know us.”

“Aww, why not?” Jimin whines. “We could all celebrate with you! And Maya could take pictures!”

“Or Tae.”

“Or—yeah, or Tae.”

You pretend not to have noticed his hesitation or the way he startled at that, and certainly not the way it made your pulse jump. Has everyone really been seeing this except you?

“Regardless,” you say, trying to ignore the sudden nausea rolling in your stomach, “I don’t think he’ll do it in front of you guys. And if he was going to ask Maya to take pictures, I think he would’ve done so by now if he was going to propose soon.”

When you had told Maya about the ring the afternoon after the gallery opening, she’d seemed genuinely surprised, clapping her hands together and immediately calling dibs on being maid of honor.

Go figure.

“Ah, well,” Jimin sighs. “There’s always the planning to help with.” He holds up a hand and begins ticking off his fingers. “And the bridal shower, the bachelorette party, rehersal dinner, eventual baby shower—“

“Woah, Park, getting a little ahead of yourself now, no?”

“Y/N, this is an exciting time for you! I’m excited for you!” He slurps down a mouthful of his noodle bowl. “And maybe I’m living a little vicariously through you. Maybe. A little.”

“Geez, Kook’s right, you are in a drought.”

“Oh, great. You too now?”

You giggle as he dramatically presses a hand to his forehead, food puffing out his cheeks.

“But really though,” he says, leaning forward again with concern in his eyes, “you are excited, right? After you told us about the ring, you seemed a bit off.”

Shit.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you get drunk that fast in a while.”

“I was happy for Maya and Tae.”

“And yourself?”

“Yeah, and myself.”

Jimin stares at you for a long few seconds, clearly not buying what you’re selling. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” He leans back in his chair in a way that says he’s letting you off the hook. “But you’d better figure out this weird thing with Tae before he corners you at the house. Good luck avoiding him then.”

Okay, maybe not entirely off the hook.

The rest of the short work week passes in a blink, and you quickly find yourself packing for your trip on Wednesday night, the plan being to leave Thursday morning and stay until Monday. Jace fiddles with his phone on the bed, occasionally glancing up to watch you flit around the room as you fill your travel bag with an excessive amount of clothes.

"Are you leaving for five days or a month?" he teases as you cram ten pairs of underwear into a side pocket.

"I like to keep my options open," you say. "Never know what could happen with the weather."

"Or your bladder, apparently."

"Hey, it's gonna be hot. I'll have to hydrate."

He laughs at that before his eyes settle on you with a warmth that has you shifting under his gaze.

“What?”

“I just love you, you know?” he hums.

Warmth blooms in your chest. “I love you, too.”

“It’s going to suck being apart.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I wish you could’ve come.”

At your words, you feel like you can literally see a light bulb turn on in his head as his expression brightens with an idea. “Do you want to take my jacket?”

He can only mean one jacket. You’d found it together a month after you started dating at a thrift shop downtown, and it’s been his signature piece of clothing ever since. Jace had pulled the bomber jacket and its bright green satin off the rack, and your first reaction had been to laugh. The thing practically glowed.

“You’ll look like a traffic light,” you’d giggled.

But Jace was already pulling the shimmering material over his shoulders. “Consider this your green light to jump my bones whenever you want,” he’d said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“I’d feel bad separating you from it, to be honest,” you say in the present. “I’m pretty sure a piece of your soul is tied to that jacket by now.”

He pouts. “You’ll be carrying a piece of my heart already; what’s a piece of my soul?”

“Smooth.” You poke at your bag. “I may not have any extra room in here though.”

“Fair enough, but if you change your mind, the offer still stands. What time are you leaving tomorrow?"

"Eleven. Should get us there a little before lunch."

"Us?" He pauses, setting down his phone. "You're driving with Tae?"

"No, Maya." A tinge of panic drops into your chest at the mention of Taehyung's name. Does he know? "Why?"

Jace shrugs, nonchalant. "No reason, just wondering. And you're back Monday?"

"Mhm, by dinnertime." You settle on the bed next to him, trailing your fingers along his forearm. "Do you want to maybe do a date night after work that day?"

He sighs deeply, tilting his head back against the headboard. "We have our conference debrief Monday, so who knows when I'll get home." You nod in understanding, but the disappointment must show on your face because then Jace is leaning forward to take your hand in his. "I'll tell you what, I know work has been keeping me from you lately, so let me make up for it.”

The pads of his fingers lightly dance along your jaw. "Fancy date night next Saturday? That upscale Italian place on Fifth that you love so much? I can make a reservation."

Your heart pounds as you will your eyes not to subconsciously drift to his desk, and you put on your best poker face. "It's a date."

The drive proves an easy one for you and Maya as sunny weather and a surprising lack of traffic has you at the house in under an hour. As you drive through the iron gates, a small mansion, white and pristine, spreads itself out before you, and you're once again reminded of just how wealthy a family Jungkook comes from.

You had grown up very well-off, sure, but Jungkook’s parents and their vast real estate portfolio are on an entirely different level of rich. And while your parents had immediately cut you off right after you left for college, Jungkook’s parents continue to supplement his bartending income with a monthly allowance to this day.

The word “spoiled” is a bit of an understatement when it comes to your friend.

"You sure you don't want anything more serious with Kook?" you tease Maya, who sits in the passenger seat with her dark sunglasses over her eyes. "All this could be yours."

"As if," she scoffs. "Not worth it to have to put up with his ass for the rest of eternity."

You key in the code for the front door and are greeted by a multitude of voices, the cavernous open-concept kitchen/dining room/living room only serving to amplify those inside. Hoseok and Sunny are quick to reel you in, introducing you to Sunny's three bridesmaid friends, Hoseok's brother (who you’ve met a few times before), and—

"Joonie!"

Namjoon swoops in to pull you into a bear hug while lamenting how long it's been since he last saw you. Hoseok's best friend since freshman year of college, the former pre-med major had been a core member of your group of friends, but med school combined with helping to manage his family's restaurant means that you rarely see him nowadays in spite of him sharing an apartment with Hoseok and Sunny.

"How's the roomie search going?" you ask as Namjoon pulls Maya into an equally crushing hug.

"Mmph, still no luck. Though I may have an old friend from grade school moving into the city soon, so we'll see if that pans out." He throws a quirked brow at Hoseok. "But I haven't entirely given up on convincing these two to reconsider breaking up the dream team."

"Ah, Joon, you really wanna live with two newlyweds that badly?" Hoseok whines. "Just think about it for two seconds. Really think about it."

Namjoon clicks his tongue, cheeks now tinged with a dusting of pink. "Okay, maybe you have a point."

The light mingling continues as everyone settles in, and you find yourself taking stock of the kitchen and planning a grocery run with Sunny's friends when the last three members of your party come spilling through the door. Your companions head back to the entrance for introductions, but you stay firmly put, mindlessly busying yourself with plates and silverware, nerves alight at the thought of who just entered the house.

Voices still echoing from the living room, it's only a minute or so later when you sense the quiet presence of someone stepping into the kitchen, and, ever in sync, you don't need to turn around to know who.

"Hey, can I talk to you?"

You turn on instinct, your body responding to his voice before your brain can remind you of your avoidance. Taehyung leans against the kitchen island in a long-sleeved yellow shirt, baseball cap turned backwards on his head. Chin slightly tilted towards his chest, he's gazing at you from under his lashes, and you recognize it as nerves. "I, um, I'm about to go on a grocery run."

"I can come with?" he offers. "Keep you company, carry the heavy stuff—"

"I made plans to go with Sunny's friends, actually."

"Oh, okay." His shoulders drop ever so slightly, and you glance away at the shoreline crashing in the distance, anywhere but at your best friend looking like a kicked puppy in front of you because of your own cowardice.

"Listen, Y/N—"

"Later?" You quickly interrupt, not mentally prepared to have this conversation right now, especially with Jimin casting you looks from where he stands in the living room.

Taehyung licks his lips, seeming to scan your face for something before he swallows down words on the tip of his tongue, grimacing as if they're nails. "Yeah, okay. Later."

When you said later, you truly meant it. While you and Sunny’s friends (Taehyung thinks their names were Iseul, Hana, and Yumi) run out for groceries, the rest of the group bustles around the house, splitting up rooms, settling in, and eventually migrating to the pool. Taehyung tries to catch you again when you return, but you hurry past him with a box of liquor, mumbling something about helping Jungkook set up the bar out back. Sunny’s friends dump the rest of the groceries on the kitchen island before scurrying away to the back deck with everyone else, which is how Taehyung winds up unpacking the bags.

Alone.

Nice.

He’s pushing a box of ramyeon on top of the fridge when he hears the back door click and slide open behind him.

“Need a hand?”

Namjoon walks into the kitchen, fingers poking at one of the bags.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

They unload the groceries in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Namjoon says, “So how have things been?”

Taehyung shrugs a shoulder. “Ah, you know, the usual. You?”

“Same.”

Quiet takes over again, and Taehyung thinks the conversation has ended before it even really started as he moves to place a bottle of orange juice into the fridge. But then—

“I heard about Y/N and Jace.”

Taehyung freezes mid-motion, the cool air from the open fridge slipping out and chilling his skin. When he looks up at Namjoon, the other man is studying him with a calm intensity that raises goosebumps along his arms. It’s not his first time being under Namjoon’s microscope, but he’ll never get used to the feeling of being simultaneously picked apart and comforted. Because while his friend may exude a quiet warmth, he always gives the sense that there’s also a million calculations going on under the surface at any given time.

It’s easy to let one’s guard down around Namjoon.

With that in mind, Taehyung opts for the simplest answer, slowly closing the refrigerator and saying, “Yeah?”

Namjoon nods, equally slow. “Are you alright?”

“I’m great,” Taehyung says, breaking the eye contact and closing the refrigerator to reach for another bag. “She’s always wanted this. And Jace is…” He finds himself rooting around his brain trying to find a descriptor for the guy. For someone who he’s known for several years, it’s bizarre how he can’t find a single word for him.

Weird.

“She’s happy with him,” is what he eventually comes out with.

“But is he right for her?” Namjoon presses.

“You think he’s not?”

Namjoon reaches up to put a few bags of snacks into a cupboard. “I don’t know. It’s like he was always around in college, but he was never truly present, you know?”

“That’s a Joon-ism if I’ve ever heard one.”

Namjoon smiles, a dimple dotting his cheek. “You don’t get what I mean?”

“No, I do. But that’s not important, is it? It doesn’t matter if we think he’s the right guy; it matters if she thinks he’s the right guy. And if she does, then I support it. It’s not my place to do anything else.”

The words settle in the room, and he means every one.

“You know, I’ve always admired the two of you,” Namjoon says after a moment. “The way you care for each other is…extraordinary, to say the very least.”

The sincerity in his voice makes Taehyung blush. “Well, we only had each other growing up, you know? She saved my life when we were kids. I truly believe that.”

“I know, you’ve said that before. She gave you a way out.”

“A way out, a purpose, a friend.” He crumples a plastic bag into his hand. “She chose me when no one else did. Not even my own family.”

And you had, when no one else seemed to want anything to do with him, there you were, hanging by his side like his own personal guardian angel.

“She’s the most incredible person I know, and I would just…do anything for her.”

“Including watch her marry him, apparently.”

“Yes,” Taehyung says. Unhesitating. “If that’s what she wants.”

“And where does that leave you?”

Taehyung has nothing to answer that with—his worst fear laid bare in front of him. It’s the thought that keeps him up at night, plagues the very marrow of his bones every time someone mentions that tiny velvet box. Your childhood friendship may have allowed you to grow together as one through the years, but just as trees grow apart as they grow upwards, it feels like only a matter of time before your branches no longer intertwine, drawn apart by jobs and relationships, life and love.

How long until you’ve outgrown him? How long until you’ve started your own family and left him behind?

He has no right to you, and he knows that. The last thing he would ever want to do is hold you back, but perhaps a part of him thought he’d have more time. Now, with you suddenly not talking to him for reasons he can’t even begin to grasp, he feels like he may have already lost you.

Namjoon puts him out of his misery. “Do you know what Plutarch said about friendship?”

“Who?”

“I don’t need a friend who changes when I change and who nods when I nod; my shadow does that much better.”

Taehyung stares, stunned and confused. Because Namjoon couldn’t possibly be suggesting…

“You’re saying I should tell her to say no to him?”

“I’m saying it’s possible to be selfless to a fault.”

It doesn’t sound terribly different in Taehyung’s mind, but he tries to consider Namjoon’s words regardless. Your happiness has always been his utmost priority, but could his unconditional support really be doing more harm than good? He likes to believe that if he felt your well-being were truly at risk, he would speak up.

Then again, with the way his friend is looking at him, he also can’t help but feel like he’s missing something important.

“What are you trying to specialize in again?” he asks, deflecting.

“Psychiatry.”

“Of course.”

Namjoon chuckles. “It’ll all work out in the end.” He winks, moving to rejoin your friends outside. “Life finds a way.”

You’ve managed to evade Taehyung all day, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t felt his eyes on you.

The early hours had been easy, your supermarket run giving you an (albeit weak) excuse to put some physical distance between the two of you. But it’s becoming increasingly difficult to maintain, especially after your group gathered together to decide what to do tonight.

When you’d entered the living room, Taehyung had already been seated at the end of the couch, a free spot open on his left; with the way that his hand had been resting, it was almost as if he was saving it for you. Instead, you’d chosen an armchair diagonally across from him, squirming more and more the longer he looked at you. Throughout the entire conversation, as the group decided upon going to the beach bar down the street to kick off your first night at the house, you don’t think his eyes left you even once.

You’re being a coward, and you know it.

Now, you sit at the vanity in your room, struggling with your necklace and just about ready to give up on the damn thing so you don’t hold everyone else up. The clasp doesn't want to cooperate, your fingers can't seem to get purchase on the thin metal, and really, who are you trying to look good for anyway?

Right as you prepare to abandon the cause and stuff the offending item back in your bag, someone knocks on the door and you yell for them to come in.

Taehyung saunters into the room, now wearing a black t-shirt and shorts, his hair pushed back in such a way that you can tell he's been running his hands through it. His eyes skim your figure as he softly closes the door behind him, and you feel your pulse double in pace. "Need help?"

"It's okay—I, um—" but before you can stutter out an excuse, he's already taking the thin chain from your hands, and all you can do is try not to focus on how his fingers feel brushing the back of your neck.

"There. Easy peasy." He eyes you up and down again before clearing his throat. "Looks good on you."

"I, uh, thanks." Your voice is practically a whisper, and you busy yourself with your make-up case...which may have been an adequate distraction if not for the fact that you've already done your make-up and so your hands are only left to wander aimlessly. Glancing up, you catch Taehyung gazing at you over your shoulder in the mirror, and the intensity of his stare has you dropping the case back to the table. "What?"

"You're avoiding me." He states it as a fact, eyes unwavering, and you turn to face him.

"I'm not."

"You are." He searches your face as if to find the answer written there in big, bold letters. "Why?"

A tiny spider makes its way across the corner of the ceiling, and you find yourself staring at it as you chew on your bottom lip, not knowing what to say.

"Hey," Taehyung murmurs, pulling your attention back to him. "It's me, yeah? We don't keep secrets."

But still you hesitate. "You won't get mad?"

He reaches out to hook his pinky with yours. "Of course not."

Letting out a shaky breath, you ask, "Are you okay with Jace proposing?" The question hangs between you for a second, the air thickening with apprehension.

His eyebrows press together, confused. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, it's just..." You pause to collect your thoughts. "When I told you about the ring at the gallery opening, there was a second where you appeared to be…bothered."

"Ahh, well..." He pushes his hands through his hair, mulling over his next words. "Do you want me to be honest?"

"Please."

"I know we're friendly, but I've just never been his biggest fan, even in college." Taehyung shrugs. "You know I want the best for you, and he seems like a good guy and all, I just—I don't know." Another run of his hand through his hair. "I just get a weird vibe from him sometimes."

You smirk at that. "A weird vibe?"

"Yeah, like," he licks his lips, still fidgeting. "I can't put my finger on anything in particular, just something about him rubs me the wrong way sometimes." You open your mouth to respond and he quickly cuts in, "But I will 100% support you! If he's who you want and he makes you happy and treats you well, then I will cheer you on the whole way. Hell, I'll even walk you down the aisle if you want me to." That draws a small laugh from you, and he smiles. "If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. That's all I care about."

You take in his beaming figure and are reminded of how thankful you are to have this man in your life. But the voice in the back of your head is still not entirely placated and before you can stop yourself, you're blurting, "And that's really it?"

Taehyung's smile fades, lips slowly turning downward into a frown, and you silently curse yourself. After seventeen years of friendship, the man can practically read your mind and you know it. "What aren't you telling me?"

You sigh. Seems like there's no way getting around it at this point, and so you decide you may as well dive in. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you quietly ask, "You don’t…have feelings for me?”

Taehyung's eyes blow wide, and you're surprised his jaw isn't touching the floor. After several moments of stunned silence, he lets out a strangled, "What?"

"No, I just—" you stutter. "Look, someone said you did, and after you seemed upset about Jace proposing, I thought maybe..."

He's deeply scowling now, the crease back between his eyebrows, and a flare of his nostrils indicates that he's pissed. "Who?" he asks.

"Who what?"

"Who said that?"

"Tae—"

"No, Y/N, if people want to talk about me behind my back and screw with my private life, I have a right to know who."

He stares you down until you purse your lips and break. "Maya."

"Fucking hell," he says under his breath as he rubs at the lines in his forehead, and his lack of a denial has your head spinning.

"So it's true?"

"Y/N—"

"You haven't answered the question—"

"No!" He almost shouts it. "I don't."

"Because if you did have feelings for me, you could tell me. No secrets, right?"

He lets out a huff and stuffs his hands in his pockets, leveling his gaze back at you. "No," he says. Firmly. Definitively. "No, Y/N, I don’t have feelings for you."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. But something in your blood continues to tingle.

"Okay."

And really? You should've known. Should've trusted to get the truth from him and not secondhand from your friends who, though they mean well, have been known to meddle and gossip (and sure, maybe that includes yourself at times).

The heightened tension has dissipated from the room, but the two of you are still left looking awkwardly at each other. After a stretch of time, Taehyung shifts on his feet and asks, "Y/N, are we good?"

There's a hint of fear in his eyes, and it has any residual worry you're feeling melting away. This is still Tae. Your Tae.

"Of course we are." You link your pinky with his. "Always."

The beach bar is relatively crowded for a Thursday night, the warm summer air and mix of bodies driving your group to disperse around the venue. Some migrate towards the live band, while others choose to mingle (and flirt) with the other patrons.

Noticing the way one guy at the bar has been eyeing you since you got here, Taehyung sticks close to your side, just in case. That is, until Namjoon finds his way back to the two of you looking harried, drawing you in so he can gently rest his hands on your elbows.

“Y/N, can I borrow you?” His light smile and the way he leans in close are clearly meant to project the image of intimacy, but his eyes are desperately screaming for help. “There’s an intoxicated woman who seems determined to motorboat me, and I don’t know where Maya is. I need a fake girlfriend.”

You pretend to swoon. “Joonie, with a chest like that, I’d be honored to be your fake girlfriend.”

Something aches behind Taehyung’s ribs as he watches you walk away on Namjoon’s arm when he just got you talking to him again. Still, a bit of breathing room is probably for the best. His conversation with you has him rattled; he doesn’t think his pulse has fully returned to normal since you suggested he has feelings for you. At the very least, he was able to smooth things out, which has noticeably eased the weight he’s been carrying the past couple of weeks.

But speaking of your conversation, you being summoned away by Namjoon gives him the opportunity to address the other elephant in the room.

He scans the crowd, determinedly ignoring the woman who’s been trying to catch his eye from a few tables over. (She pouts in his peripheral vision, shifting the neckline of her shirt to sit lower on her chest.) Finally spotting his target making her way back from the bathroom, he quickly moves to intercept her before she can join you and Namjoon at the bar.

Maya startles as he tugs lightly on her arm, leading her to a quieter spot towards the edge of the beach before abruptly spinning to face her.

"What the fuck?"

"What?" she quirks an eyebrow as if in askance but her overall countenance says that she knows exactly what this conversation is going to be about.

"You know what."

"Maybe, but I want to hear you say it."

Taehyung takes a deep breath. He loves Maya like a sister, but that sibling relationship means that she often gets under his skin like one, too. "You told Y/N that I'm in love with her?"

Her other eyebrow joins the first one in climbing her forehead. "Are you?"

"No."

Maya scoffs. "I'm going to give you another chance to say that, but try to sound like you actually believe it this time."

"You had no right—"

"So you're not denying it now?"

"I said no."

"Okay, that time was better, but it could still use some work—"

"Maya, fuck!" He scrubs a hand over his face. "Don't do this."

"She needs to know! What did you tell her?"

“That I don’t—“

“I thought you two didn’t lie to each other.”

“I didn’t!”

“You’re full of shit, and you know it.”

He’d swear he can feel his eyelid twitch. Maya always seems to know which buttons to press to get a reaction out of him. "She's getting married, for fuck's sake!"

"No, she has a boyfriend with a ring box in his drawer."

"Same difference."

"It's not."

"It is."

"She hasn't said yes yet, Tae."

He goes quiet at that. It’s painfully reminiscent of his conversation with Namjoon, and yet he’s equally at a loss. What are they honestly expecting him to do here? What could he possibly do that would accomplish anything other than drive you away, and rightfully so?

Maya’s gaze rakes over his face, scrutinizing him with a mixture of frustration and pity. "Tell me it isn't killing you."

Taehyung licks his lips, looking out across the bar until he finds where you’re standing with Namjoon. The latter says something that makes you laugh, and his stomach flips watching the way your eyes twinkle with mirth as you toss your head back, hair spilling over your shoulders.

You’re radiant. Stunning.

"She's happy," he finally croaks, but it comes out like he's physically straining to push out the words. "Leave it the fuck alone."

“Hey.”

You find Taehyung in the kitchen bright and early the next morning, already rummaging around and littering the counters with bowls and ingredients. The soft morning light drenches him in a golden glow, highlighting his honey skin, the slope of his nose, the long lines of his fingers as he works.

“Hey!” The smile he gives you is light and easy, the awkwardness between you having evaporated as easy as steam after your discussion last night. “Want to help me make breakfast?”

You jump in, immediately falling into rhythm with the way he maneuvers around the kitchen. God, you’ve missed this. It may have only been a few weeks, but cooking with Taehyung is one of your life’s greatest joys, and after missing two of your meal prep nights, it feels like a part of you has come home. There’s no doubt that you’re breathing a little easier today with the air cleared between you.

And honestly, how stupid to let a single comment from Maya drive a wedge between the two of you. You’ve known Taehyung practically your whole life. If he did have feelings for you, you would’ve figured it out by now.

Surely, he would’ve told you.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t even notice that Taehyung is sneaking up on you until he’s already smeared a streak of waffle batter across your cheek.

“Augh, Tae!”

“What?” He quickly backpedals out of your reach, anticipating retaliation, but grinning widely. “You were clearly somewhere else. Had to bring you back to me somehow.”

A while later, as Taehyung sets out the platters of waffles, fruit, and eggs, you begin making the rounds to let everyone know that breakfast is ready. Sunny and her friends thank you from where they’re hanging out on the back deck and say that they’ll be in soon. Moving back into the hallway, you greet Hoseok and his brother, Jiho, as they pass you; Hoseok gives you an appreciative high five when you tell them about the food. Namjoon and Jimin have their door wide open, so you only need to poke your head in, Jimin immediately taking off down the hall at the mention of waffles.

When you get to Taehyung and Jungkook’s door, it’s closed, a series of muffled groans coming from inside. Unhesitating, you knock hard, and the groaning stops, followed by a curse and the sound of shuffling before Jungkook is opening the door halfway, blocking your view of the room. Clad in only a pair of gray joggers, a light sheen of sweat coats his bare chest, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Can I help you?”

“Tae and I made breakfast. You’re welcome to join.” You nod your chin at the area behind him. “Unless, you know, you have better things to do.”

Jungkook smirks, amused. “Alright, I’ll be out in a minute.”

He moves to close the door, but you manage to stick a foot out to block him.

“Maya, you too!”

There’s a moment of silence as you stand there, Jungkook looking as smug as ever, before a voice sounds from inside the room.

“Okay!”

It's a cloudless, sunny day so your group heads down to the beach after breakfast. Jungkook's beach house sits down the street, away from the center of town and tourist areas, which allows you a relatively private, uncrowded stretch of sand. The air is sticky with humidity, only mitigated by the breeze coming off the water. It's an oddly soothing combination of hot and cool that has you pulling in deep breaths of the salty air. You could stay out here forever.

"This is paradise," Hana says, verbalizing your own thoughts. "I wish I could live here."

You're sitting on your towel in the sand helping Maya sunscreen her back, but you don't miss the cocky grin on Jungkook's face.

"Well, pretty ladies like you are always welcome here."

Maya's shoulders tense up under your hands, and you're tempted to say something snarky in her defense before Sunny beats you there.

"Not my friends, Kook!"

Hana giggles, Jungkook feigns innocence, and you think that's that, stretching out on your towel to sunbathe. But an hour later, Taehyung is plopping down next to you in the sand.

"I need your help."

You slide your sunglasses to the top of your head so you can look at him better. "Sunny trying to set you up with someone again?"

He blushes. "No, Kook wants to have a chicken fight."

You push your glasses back down your face. "No."

Taehyung is quick, reaching over to pull the shades off your eyes entirely.

“Tae!”

“Look,” he murmurs, leaning in close. “Normally I’d blow him off, but he’s pairing up with Hana, and Maya actually seems kind of bothered.”

You peek over his shoulder to where Maya is now chatting with Jimin, throwing furtive glances at Jungkook and Hana flirting by the water’s edge.

“I know they’re not exclusive,” Taehyung continues, “but you have to admit Kook is being a bit of a dick, and I kind of want to show him up.”

You’re still hesitant, lips turning downwards, and so he presses closer, until all you can see are big brown eyes.

“Please? For me?”

The past two weeks creep into your mind, two weeks of intentionally avoiding him—hurting him—due to your own idiocy, and that’s when you cave. You owe him.

“Okay, fine.”

You follow Taehyung down to the shoreline, where Jungkook grins widely at your approach and claps his hands together.

"A challenger!"

You shake your head at his antics and move to tie your hair up and away from your face. "Do we have any stakes?"

Jungkook strikes a dramatic pose: calf-deep in water, hands on hips, six-pack abs already glistening as he pouts his lips in thought.

Then, with a snap of his fingers, he says, "Loser cooks dinner tomorrow."

Well, that's much tamer than you expected. "Just dinner? No, 'loser has to go skinny dipping' or anything like that?"

His mouth forms into a tiny "o", eyes wide with excitement. "Do you...want that?"

"No," you're quick to clarify. "It just doesn't seem like much of a punishment for us."

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. "I like your food."

"Okay, but what if we win?" Taehyung asks, nodding from your right.

The cocky grin is back. "You won't."

Seagulls circle above like curious spectators to your game as you get into position. Taehyung squats in the surf so you can scale his back, sliding your legs over his tanned shoulders. He wraps his arms and hands tightly around your knees to secure you as he walks deeper into the ocean until the water is up to his waist. Roughly ten feet across from you, Jungkook and Hana have assumed a similar stance, and you're not sure if it's the waves rolling in or if Jungkook is actively bouncing on his heels.

"Jimin, wanna count us off?" he shouts.

From his spot on the beach, you see Jimin cup his hands around his mouth.

"On your mark...get set...GO!"

The men charge at each other through the water until you and Hana collide, grappling at each other's arms. In spite of a tiny build, she's surprisingly strong and sturdy, and you already have to adjust yourself on top of Taehyung, who likewise rearranges his grip on your legs.

"You good?" he grunts from under you, and you assure him you're fine.

You change your tactic, moving to push at her shoulders and send her backwards, but Jungkook shifts his legs to keep the two of them balanced. This gives Hana the chance to bump you with an elbow, and Taehyung likewise has to tighten his hold on you again to keep you steady.

This back-and-forth goes on for a short while, your friends now cheering from the sidelines, until Jungkook pushes forward and Hana collides with you again. This time, Taehyung adjusts to the hit by sliding his hands upwards, his long fingers skating up the soft inner flesh of your thighs and digging in.

A flash of heat rushes straight to your belly.

The sensation forcefully jolts your entire body and sends both you and Taehyung tumbling into the water. You kick around trying to find your footing before he pulls you up, sopping wet and spluttering as Jungkook and Hana celebrate their victory with raised arms and whoops.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

Hell if you know. You’d swear you can still feel the pads of his fingers on your legs, and so you merely blink at him with a shake of your head.

A biological reaction, you tell yourself, as you wade your way back to dry land. Nothing more.

You will your body to get a grip as you settle back down on your towel. You love Jace, you’re taken, and you and Taehyung have just reestablished the platonic nature of your friendship. Letting his touch have that kind of effect on you is nothing short of wildly inappropriate on two counts.

Trying to shake the shame poking at your brain, you angle yourself towards the waves and snap a quick selfie to send off to your boyfriend.

You [2:05pm]: miss you so much, wish you were here <3

It’s not long before your phone chimes with a reply, and you open the message to see a picture of Jace taken at a similar angle. He stands in a sea of businessmen and conference booths, suit crisp and hair neatly combed. The smile he wears is bright, eyes crinkling in the way you love so much and setting of a flurry of butterflies in your belly.

J <3 [2:07pm]: i’d say i wish you were here but i wouldn’t wish this place on my worst enemy let alone my favorite girl lol

J <3 [2:07pm]: i miss you too, beautiful :(

By the time the sun starts its descent, you’ve all moved to the pool on the expansive back deck, Jungkook immediately hopping behind the outdoor bar to make drinks.

“You know,” you say from your perch atop one of the stools, “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who can match your enthusiasm for your job.”

He smiles, rattling a cocktail shaker. “It gets me booze and ladies. What more could I ask for?”

Yumi soon joins you at the bar top to ask Jungkook for a margarita, and is quick to strike up a conversation with you. Unsurprisingly for one of Sunny’s friends, she’s incredibly nice, and you learn she works as a hairdresser in the city.

“I’ll have to check out your salon!” you say. “I’ve been meaning to get a trim.”

She claps her hands together eagerly. “If you want to give me your number, I can text you the address!”

As you’re putting your contact information into her phone, she looks at you thoughtfully and adds, “Not to sound like I have an ulterior motive, but Sunny also mentioned that you’re going to be getting married soon, too?”

Heat creeps into your cheeks. “Ah, yeah, nothing official yet. But, you know, it seems like it’s coming.”

“Exciting!” she declares. “Just figured I’d let you know that I do weddings, too, in that case. And I know we’ve just met, but I’d still give you the friends discount. Sunny’s friends are my friends, as far as I’m concerned.”

“That’s so sweet of you. I’ll definitely give you a call to talk about it once we’re actually planning.”

“That sounds gre—“

“Sorry to interrupt.” Taehyung wanders up to where you sit, handing you a plate of steaming beef and cucumber salad. “Hoseok and Jimin got the first round of meats done. I knew you’d want it hot.”

The moan you let out as you take the plate from him is downright scandalous. “Ugh, you’re the best.”

You’re rewarded with a light chuckle and a signature boxy grin. “I know.”

As he heads back to the grill and you dig into your food, Yumi lets out a dreamy sigh. “It’s no wonder he’s planning to put a ring on your finger. I wish someone would look at me like that.”

A piece of food lodges itself in your throat, and you cough hard. Yumi stares at you in alarm until you regain your breath and turn to her with wide eyes. “Tae and I aren’t together.”

She looks back and forth between the two of you like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re not?”

“No.” You shake your head emphatically. “We grew up together. My boyfriend is at a work event.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaims. “I just noticed how close you were at the bar last night and how he’s always—“ She cuts herself off with a shake of her head. “Nevermind. That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

You assure her it’s fine, and she changes the subject, asking how you know the others and what college was like. Your chat carries on for a while longer before you excuse yourself to use the bathroom.

You don’t even make it halfway across the deck, though, before a tattooed arm is snaking across your waist, lifting you off your feet, and carrying you in the direction of the pool.

“Jeon Jungkook, don’t you fucking dare!” you screech, trying to wiggle yourself out of his grip to no avail.

All you hear behind you is a maniacal giggle before you’re tossed through the air and land in the water with a splash.

When you come up to the surface, pushing your wet hair out of your eyes, you find Jungkook cackling by the pool’s edge. You glare at him.

“Asshole!”

“C’mon, Y/N! It’s a tradition!” he laughs. “It’s not a beach house trip without—“ But he doesn’t get to finish that thought before Taehyung shoulders him hard in the back, propelling him into the water next to you.

You only give Jungkook a second to get his bearings before you’re hopping onto his back and trying to play wrestle him back under the water to the laughter of your friends. It’s hopeless really—Jungkook is basically a mountain of hard muscle that barely budges under your touch—but a few minutes of scrambling all over him with determination, and he eventually concedes and humors you by allowing you to dunk him below the surface.

It’s later, once you’ve clambered out of the pool and are toweling off on the deck when you hear him talking to Jiho behind you.

“He got you good. You didn’t even hear him coming, did you?” There’s a shuffle and a “Pow!” like Jiho is reenacting Taehyung’s takedown.

“Ah, it’s alright,” Jungkook laughs, no hint of a grudge in his voice. “I messed with his girl.”

Your party stretches on into the night until the sky has turned inky black, peppered with stars that shine intensely this far removed from the city. Almost ironically, your group has mellowed out as the alcohol has flowed, settling into smaller groups scattered around the deck. Namjoon sits with Hoseok and Jiho, clearly getting philosophical around the fire pit. Sunny is gathered to the side with her friends as they sloppily braid each other’s hair, the occasional burst of laughter coming from their general vicinity. Jimin lays on his back at the side of the pool, drunkenly tracing constellations with his finger. And Maya and Jungkook are nowhere to be found.

There’s a sense of peace that flows through your veins as you watch your friends smile and talk while you grab yourself a beer from the poolside bar. You’ve always loved coming here. Sure, getting a free stay at a waterfront mansion is nothing you’d ever say no to, but it’s really getting to spend quality time with your friends—away from all of your real world responsibilities—that makes this place feel almost magical.

You look out to the shoreline and spot a figure sitting alone on the beach, staring out at the waves. You’d been thinking about joining Namjoon’s group by the fire, but that plan is immediately pushed out of mind as you grab a second bottle and make your way towards the sea.

You’re not loud in your stroll, the soft sand muting your steps, but Taehyung seems to sense your approach anyway, not startling a bit as you seat yourself next to him and hand him a beer.

“Contemplating the wonders of the universe?” you ask. From this angle, he looks almost like he did in Maya’s photograph of him—the same constellations in his eyes.

Taehyung stretches his legs out with a sigh, leaning back on his palms. “Where do you think we’ll be this time next year?”

You sip at your drink. Honestly, you can’t imagine things being all that different.

“Right back here?” you say. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of coming here. This is my ultimate happy place.”

Taehyung hums in agreement. “It could be your pre-wedding party we’ll be having next year.”

“You think?”

His brow furrows at your doubt. “I’d expect you’d at least be planning then, no? Or you could already be married by then if you guys want to move fast.”

The thought sends jitters running down your spine. “Who knows?” you challenge. “Maybe you’ll be the one married. Maybe you’ll meet your soulmate tomorrow and elope because you know it’s fate, and there’s no point in waiting.”

Taehyung barks out a laugh. “That sounds somewhat out-of-character, no?”

“Hmm, true. You’re more of a wait five years to move in and another five years to propose kind of guy. Work on your credit score and establish a detailed financial plan before even thinking about merging assets. And don’t even get me started on the background check.”

“Geez, Y/N. Does Jace know you just casually talk dirty to other guys like this?”

You playfully shove at his shoulder, and the pink of his tongue pokes through his teeth as he laughs.

“Oh, wow, look.”

Taehyung points a delicate finger as a tiny flash blazes through the sky, trailing light and stardust in its wake. He turns to you, smiling.

“Make a wish?”

The words come out on a whisper like a secret meant just for the two of you.

As you sit there, gazing out at the shadowy horizon in the distance, you feel perfectly content. What do you wish for when you feel like you already have the world? Work has been going great, and after almost a year of unpacking boxes and rearranging furniture, you feel like you and Jace are finally settled in and cozy at your apartment. You think about Jace—his smile, the soothing feel of his hands on your skin, the little black box in his desk—and contemplate all of the joy you can sense coming your way.

And then you consider the man beside you.

His eyes are closed as he meditates on his own wish, his legs now drawn up so he can rest his forearms on his knees. It flashes you back to when you were kids, lounging away the hours in your room or hanging at your favorite spots around town—the park, the library, the ice cream shop where Mrs. Kang would often take pity and treat the two of you to free cones. When you were young, Taehyung almost always sat like this, knees to his chest as if he was trying to make himself smaller. As if he could make himself invisible to the shadows that followed him every second of each day.

Taehyung’s always been a positive person, steadfastly determined to not let his demons poison his perspective of the world. Though neither of you were fond of explicitly discussing your situations, Taehyung always maintained a bright outlook on the rare occasions when your frustrations would spill over. There’s still the family we can choose, he’d tell you. We’ll find them one day.

Still, though, you could always sense a certain anxiety lingering under the mask of his smile. It showed itself in the way he’d sit with his arms around his knees, in the way his forehead would crease during the moments when you’d catch him lost in thought. This had eased up in college, the change in scenery and your newfound friends loosening his bones and laugh lines. But since graduation, you’ve seen some of that tension return to his shoulders like he’s carrying extra weight, especially in the past year.

You consider the man beside you, and you think, then, that he deserves the world, too.

I wish for Taehyung to have everything he wants. You squeeze your eyes shut, casting the thought out to the universe with everything you have. Every last desire of his heart. He deserves it all.

No one in the world would be more deserving. Of that, you’re sure.

When you open your eyes again, he’s watching you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“What did you wish for?” is all you can think to ask, blinking at him.

“Well if I tell you, then it won’t come true.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head with a teasing scoff. He smiles.

“Happiness,” he declares. “If I had to put it simply.”

You smile back at him, hoping those stars stay in his eyes. “Yeah, me too.”

He’ll find it. You know he will.

It's Sunday morning when shit hits the fan.

After Saturday passes with ease, another lazy day by the pool punctuated with you and Taehyung collaborating on a fried chicken dinner as per your bet with Jungkook, you wake up on Sunday to the sound of Iseul's squeals over there being no hot water, a fact which is soon confirmed after the men team up to check the heater. Jungkook calls his family handyman (apparently those come standard when you have more houses than you can count on one hand), but the man is quick to inform him that he's getting ready for his granddaughter's birthday party and won't be able to come out until tomorrow.

"There's no way I'm making it through the day without a hot shower," Maya grumbles.

Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows. "I can show you a hot shower.”

She doesn't even look at him.

You're also not enthused about the prospect of having to either take a cold shower or skip one entirely. So when Maya suggests going home a day early, you're already leaning towards the idea as well.

"It won't be that bad," Taehyung says, lips turning down in a tiny pout when you tell him. "The key is to just go fast."

"I'd rather not have to do it at all." You giggle as his pout deepens. "We're going to stay until the evening. It's only like a twelve hour difference."

"But I thought we were going to do a movie night."

Okay, now you feel bad.

"Temporary reschedule?" you suggest, poking at his bottom lip. "Jace and I are going to dinner on Saturday, but my Friday night is free."

A hand rubs at his chin as he pretends to make a show out of pondering your offer. "Deal."

Later, you're sitting on a chaise lounge on the back deck, soaking up your last few hours of sun with one of Jungkook's signature cocktails in your hand when Maya sighs deeply beside you in a similar show of disappointment.

"It really is a shame though," she laments. "Tonight was supposed to be our big send-off, and now I cleared my schedule tomorrow for nothing."

"We could do a girls night?" you say. "I have this new cab sav I found the other week that we could split."

"Ooh, twist my arm."

Plans made, you pull out your phone. Jace has been texting you on and off from his conference all weekend—just brief check-ins and I miss yous—so you shoot him a quick message now.

You [4:53pm]: the water heater here is busted so i'll be home early tonight. maya is going to come too, might stay over. can't wait to see you <3

The sky is a misty orange when you pack the car and say goodbye to your friends, Taehyung giving you a particularly tight hug. Things were great between you for the rest of the weekend, but you can feel the tension of your conversation lingering in the way he holds you that extra second.

You check your phone as Maya settles into the passenger seat and buckles her seat belt. There's still been no word from Jace. It's not particularly unusual for him to forget to answer his phone—especially since you expect he's busy wrapping up the conference—but a seed of worry still plants itself in the back of your brain. You hope everything is alright.

The ride is mostly quiet, you and Maya occasionally singing along to a song on the radio as the evening gradually turns to night. But about halfway back home, you feel the need to straighten things out.

“So I talked to Tae.”

She’s quiet for a second, her face shrouded in shadow. “Uh-huh.”

“He said he doesn’t have feelings for me.”

Maya shifts in her seat, angling herself towards you ever so slightly. “And you believe him?”

“Yes. Definitely.” There’s no doubt in your mind. “He’s never given me a reason not to.”

Silence stretches itself between you, Maya entirely unreadable as she seems to be puzzling something out in her head.

“Okay.”

It comes as a surprise, and you jerk your eyes away from the road to glance over at her. “Okay?”

Maya shrugs. “Okay.”

“That’s it?”

“Do you want there to be more?”

You work your mouth in a stunned gape. Because she’s right; why are you pushing this?

“No. We’re good.”

When you get to your apartment, you swipe you and Maya into the building and head towards the elevators. You’re a little bummed that your time at the beach house had to be cut short, but you take solace in the fact that you get some time back with Jace.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Maya asks on the ride up.

You grin. “We could play that Twilight drinking game I sent you.”

“Pfft, I know I said I have tomorrow off, but I meant I could handle a mild hangover, not alcohol poisoning.”

You fumble for your key at your apartment door, sliding it into the lock and pushing the door open. The first thing you notice is that the lights are on, so Jace must be home.

“Babe?” you call, as you and Maya dump your bags by the couch.

“Where’s that cab sav?” You nod in the direction of the kitchen, and Maya skips over to investigate.

A moan sounds through the apartment.

You and Maya both freeze, staring at each other. Goosebumps break out over your entire body, a frightening sense of impending doom slamming itself down on your consciousness.

A second moan, and now you notice the lights on under the closed door of your bedroom. There was no sign of forced entry, but the image of a wounded and bleeding Jace pushes itself to the forefront of your mind.

You rush to the bedroom door, fearing the worse.

“Jace?”

You swing it open.

And your entire world collapses.

Taehyung can’t quite shake the feeling that you’re slipping through his fingers.

Movie night had been his idea, a way to get you in one spot (and mostly to himself, if he’s being honest) after your two weeks of silence. Now knowing the reason behind your push for space, he doesn’t blame you at all. Maya throwing that wrench into your relationship was surely unsettling, and he understands wanting time alone. But he’s missed you; he’s not going to deny that. And he’s desperate to prove that things can be okay between you. Things can be normal.

But the universe, it seems, is stacked against him.

He’s ambling through the house, wondering if Jimin might be up for a game of ping pong in the downstairs game room, when his phone blares in his pocket. It’s a jarring sound, violent in the way it disrupts the calmness of the house, and Taehyung frowns when he sees Maya’s name on the screen.

Maya never calls.

“Hello?”

“Tae, oh thank God.” Her voice is high and tight—clearly in distress. “You need to come to Y/N’s apartment as soon as physically possible. Grab Jimin and Kook if you need to drive them back—whatever. But just—as soon as possible.”

“Wait, wait, slow down,” he urges, hairs standing at attention on the back of his neck. “What’s going on? Is everyone okay? Is Y/N okay?”

“We got back to the apartment, and Jace he…”

Time seems to slow in anticipation of Maya’s next words—the kind of eerie stillness that precedes a storm, quiet and disarming in its disguise.

And then she drops the bomb.

“He was with someone else.”

Taehyung’s ears ring. There is no possible way he heard that right. “What?”

The breath that comes from the other side of the phone is heavy, like Maya can’t even believe the words coming out of her own mouth. “He was in bed with someone else.”

A chill drips down his spine, pushing its way through his veins until his entire body runs cold. This can’t be happening. Not to you. You’ve had enough pain and hardship in your twenty-five years of life—he’s seen it, weathered it with you. Things are supposed to be getting better; this is supposed to be the payout for years of heartache. Surely, the universe wouldn’t be so cruel.

But then it happens. A single, anguished sob rings out in the background of the call, sharp and pained in its grief.

His heart shatters, shards piercing the spaces between his ribs.

“Tae? Are you still there?”

“Yes.”

“She needs you. Please just get over here.”

Then line goes dead.

Taehyung is only frozen for a second longer before he’s bounding into motion, tearing down the hallway and into the living room where Jimin lays on his back on the couch. The latter shoots into a sitting position when he sees the look on Taehyung’s face.

“You okay?”

“Y/N—she—we—“ His mouth feels like it’s filled with sand, and while he stands there, working his jaw in agonizing frustration, Jimin leaps to his feet to close the distance between them, grasping Taehyung’s shoulders.

“What’s wrong? What happened to Y/N?”

His lungs burn as he finally finds the words. “Jace is cheating on her.”

Jimin goes still, the same stunned shock registering in his body.

“We need to—we need to go,” Taehyung gasps, and Jimin is quick to sit him on the couch.

“I’ll get Kook. We’ll take care of this,” he says, voice steady. Commanding. “You just wait here and breathe.”

The next several minutes are a blur as Jimin rushes to get Jungkook, and they work on packing the car, briefly explaining the situation to the others. Taehyung can’t think of anything but you, his focus reduced down to a pinpoint in his mind. You must be devastated. In spite of what he had said about his own feelings on Jace, he knows how much you love him, how you were expecting to spend the rest of your life with him. How must you be feeling to have an entire future ripped away? To have to bear witness to and suffer that kind of betrayal?

He’s not quite sure how it happens, but he winds up in the passenger seat of his own car, Jimin sliding behind the wheel and peeling away from the house and onto the highway. The air inside the cabin is thick, a stifling combination of premature summer heat and heavy silence, with even Jungkook sitting oddly quiet in the backseat. Taehyung is thankful for the absence of conversation; he doesn’t think he can handle talking about any of this until you’re in front of him and he can hold you, feel that you’re safe.

He realizes somewhere along the way that he’s shaking, your cry still ringing in his ears.

The trip from the beach house to the city only takes about forty-five minutes, but it feels like days, headlights and street lamps zipping by like tiny suns as Taehyung wills the car to go faster, faster, faster. He’s never felt further from you before, never been so determined to close the distance between you like he is now.

Whatever you need from him, he’ll give it.

Jimin finally pulls into your apartment parking lot, and the car hasn't even fully stopped before Taehyung is bolting out at a near sprint. Jungkook and Jimin catch up to him as he pulls out the duplicate access card you had given him in case of emergencies, swiping them into the entryway and down the hall where he pounds the button for the elevators.

"It'll be okay," Jimin says, staring Taehyung down where he seems to be vibrating in his shoes. "She'll be okay."

"She'd better be," Jungkook mutters, fists clenched tight.

(Jimin hopes Jace has long cleared out of the building, lest they run into him.)

The elevator ride is tense and slow, the numbers ticking upwards in time with the pounding in Taehyung's ears.

2...

The bastard was sleeping with someone else.

3...

You thought you were going to marry him.

4...

He'd spent time with Jace all through college. Even laughed with him at times.

5...

The sound you'd made on the phone, like you were physically wounded.

6...

If he ever sees that piece of shit again—

The doors open with a ding that snaps the mess of Taehyung's thoughts into focus.

He's here. You need him.

It's a brisk walk to the end of the hallway, and then he's practically punching your apartment door, which swings open almost immediately as if Maya was waiting on the other side. She and Taehyung stare at each other for a brief moment, her mouth stretched into a tight line before she simply nods her head in the direction of the bathroom. Taehyung makes the final leg of the trip in five long strides before freezing in the doorway.

The fractured shards of his heart turn to dust.

You're curled up on the bathroom floor, a tangle of arms and hair covering your face as your body trembles with quiet sobs. They echo around the tile, filling the space between you until Taehyung thinks he can feel the sound burrowing itself under his skin, a morbid tattoo he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to erase. This image, he thinks, will surely haunt him for the rest of his life.

You. Completely and utterly broken.

He falls to his knees so he can brush your hair aside, the strands draping themselves over his fingers like a tether. Your face is red and stained with tears, and he reflexively wipes at the ones he sees rolling down your cheeks as you peer up at him, only now registering his presence.

"T-tae?"

"I'm here," he murmurs as his hands continue collect your tears, trying to carry them for you.

When you hear his voice, your cries start up again in earnest, and you reach out to clutch at his shirt. Taehyung immediately gathers you into his arms and tucks you into the haven of his chest, holding you like if he squeezes hard enough, he can press your broken pieces back together.

"T-tae...h-he..." you gasp at his collarbone, words failing you as Taehyung hugs you to him even tighter.

He runs his hands through your hair, presses kisses to the crown of your head, trails his fingers up the length of your back as you burrow into him, wails escalating.

"Shh, I've got you, baby."

He does. He'll hold you forever if he has to.

"I've got you."

a/n: thoughts? guesses as to what taehyung used his wish on? likes, reblogs, and feedback give me life :)

taglist is open!

a/n 2: oh, fun fact. when jace caught oc going through his desk in part 1, he wasn’t even thinking about the ring box when his eyes flicked to the drawer. he was worried she was going to find the condoms, which would’ve been weird since they hadn’t used them in like two years (oof) (this isn’t plot relevant, just a detail tidbit lol)

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #taehyung imagines #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #taehyung #bts fic #bts fanfic

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yatonekoami · 1 month

Text

Make it, make out.

Featuring. Kanata Yatonokami x Fem! Reader.

You can't resist him, and he can't hold back from you either.

Tags: highly suggestive, fluff, comfort.

🌙 - To my dear Lyn @koumeowkami happiest birthday! 💜 I told you I'd try to write something a lil bit more heated with Kanata for your birthday and here it is. I'm afraid my writing isn't the best here, but I still hope it's somewhat enjoyable to you! You'll find this posted to my ao3 as well. ilysm <3

(I tried to include some Mitsuki references and a dear vocalist one too hehe I hope you like it!!)

The vibrant purple of dusk and artificial lighting mixes with the curve of his lips.

To you, he had always been beautiful; an angel with a shattered halo, whose tainted wings still wrapped around you protectively.

Right now, however, he reminds you more of a devil’s temptation.

His eyes of lavender nights are starry, a sort of blue flame dancing in them, the adrenaline of coming up with a new song still pumping through his veins, despite his… usually grumpy demeanor; his smile is the edge of the sharp moon he sometimes resembled, pointy canines showing in the inevitable tilt of his cheeks.

Right now, your lover is shining, a radiant star drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

And you’d gladly burn for him.

And if you keep staring at him, you just might.

The racket of a passing train momentarily pulls you out of your daze, the biting wind its stella leaves behind making the subway station all too real again.

Despite it not being an objectively pleasing place to find yourself in, you found a sense of comfort in it.

Perhaps it was the inherent oldness that came with it, graffiti littered walls telling endless stories, some of them still being written with the passing of that corporate worker carrying a briefcase, or that busy student that rushed past every morning, wishing life was easier.

Of course, this place, the trains, these walls, witness your story too. Only they know the desire in your heart when you look at him, and the erratic telltale pace of your infatuated heart.

You squeeze his hand now, tugging on it, a silent plea to retreat to a less conspicuous place.

He turns towards you, head tilted to the side, an answer to your unspoken question.

And because it’s you, he lets himself be guided to the violet shadows of this underground tunnel.

“Kanata…” You utter, a whisper lost in the loudness of train tracks, your lips on his, temporarily concealed by the train you two should have taken.

He burns. His cheeks, his lips, his heart.

And even if he was not one for public displays of affection, cozmez’s composer loves the sting of your searing mouth.

His hands go around your waist, finding hold on the skin right above your hips as he tilts his face to the side. Your hands are in his hair, slightly tugging on the silky lavender strands.

If it was on you, you’d let yourself be fully consumed by this moment, a dying star in bloom, prying eyes and judging stares be damned.

And Kanata would too.

But you are his alone. He doesn’t want this beautiful flame to be witnessed, snuffed or blown away before his eyes.

“Fuck…” Your boyfriend lets out, tone hoarse, like you adored it during his fast verses or in the quiet of shared mornings. “[Y/n]... Wait… Let’s go home… And continue there…” He manages, in between your teeth sinking on his lips.

Reluctantly, you pull away, pupils blown wide, lilac stars in your eyes as you take his pretty face in.

No train ride had ever felt so eternal.

—

The beat up door of Kanata’s apartment shuts with a careless clang, your back slamming against it as your partner’s hand rests beside your head, the other sneaking under the shirt you borrowed from him, in ways that were less than holy.

Utterances of his name leave your lips, skin flushed in the shades his mouth trails from your jawline to your collarbones, your head thrown back in starry bliss.

You chase after his lips desperately, fumbling with the fabric of his jacket, as your fingertips trace the lean muscles his black tank top leaves exposed.

Kanata lets out a groan the moment you tug on the elastic holding his hair back in a half up bun, both of his hands cupping your face now.

You can feel the softness of them, even if he didn’t really take special care of his skin.

“Need you…” He mutters, forehead touching yours. The sweaty strands of his hair stick to your own face, you, burning up as much as he is.

A string of saliva joins your lips even in parting.

You want more.

You need more of him, him, him.

And he does too.

No words are needed before your legs wrap around your angel’s waist, as his hands firmly scoop your thighs.

You relish in the sweet little whimpers and groans leaving Kanata’s lips, for anticipation beats with every pound of your heart against your ribcage.

You know you’re going to be the one screaming his name the moment he lays you down over his makeshift bed.

Hands you had held endless times as tears used to stream down his cheeks on nights where all he knew was a dark empty world, waste no time slipping your (actually his) t-shirt over your head.

Fallen roses bloom on the contours of your black, lacy, bra with every nibble and bite of Kanata’s small fangs over your skin.

And you know he’s entirely, irrevocably, consumed by frenzied addiction; the pull of you, him, afloat in nightly waves commanded by every curve of you his lips graze.

Like a starry sea with smokey clouds dimming its moon, you momentarily look away from your lover.

“Kanata…” You begin, with him hovering over you, arms on each side of you. “I…” Tears of stardust cling to your lashes, pieces of a shooting star over fields of violet.

His eyes widen in worry. Did he hurt you? Is anyone after you?

One of your arms reached out, fingers tangling in the silken locks of his bangs.

“You did perfect,” You reassure him, detecting his state of alert. “But am I… good enough?” Your voice cracks a little, remnants of a shattered crescent in the tears staining your pretty face.

“What are you saying?” He frowns.

To Kanata, you were moonshine filtering through the cracks of his foggy window on starless nights. You are one of his main reasons to wake up every day, yours is the hand he reaches for when sunrise arrives.

Now it’s him returning the affectionate gesture from before, fingers brushing your brow as he combs your fringe away.

“Shut up…” He lets out. Soft, not his usual pouty answer when you teased him. “You’re more than enough, you’re my everything.” Are the words whispered in the starlit space between you.

The angel’s invisible wings wrap around you; a tight embrace, his protective arms circling you like a warm lit halo.

A few seconds pass.

Flecks of amethyst dance between your gazes.

In a world gone wrong, you found each other’s melodies.

Maybe just for once, the fates were on your side.

He kisses you again.

His arms never letting you go.

#paradox live #paradox live x reader #paralive imagines #paralive #paralive x reader #pararai #prri #kanata yatonokami #kanata yatonokami x reader #kanata x reader #paradox live fanfiction #paradox live headcanons #paradox live imagines #paradox live cozmez #cozmez #paradox live the animation #hailey writes

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plutoswritingplanet · 2 years

Text

White Rabbit pt.2 (Peter Ballard x Female!Reader)

PART 1

a/n: first of all, i am so fucking sorry it took so long. life kept kicking me over the head, like i was a damn football. but, i’m here now. Started writing it....had a breakdown... bon appetit

Warnings: NON-CON, a lot of threatening, Possessive Behavior, Explicit Sexual Content (oh, you know guys, the usual)

Summary: As you keep getting stalked by the visions sent by Vecna, one moment of peace gets cruelly interrupted.

One pill makes you larger.

There is no way in hell you'll be able to listen to this song again, after this whole ordeal is over. It's already becoming quite annoying, your brain seeking other means of stimulation every time you are forced to rewind the tape. It was your favorite song, of course, but you had so many different ones. You missed Jimi Hendrix, you were not going to lie.

The base continues to repetitively resound throughout your brain, mixing with the ever-present ticking of a grandfather's clock. Sometimes, you can almost make out the familiar shape, the white face with beautiful, ornate numbers. It emerges between the paneling of Max's camper, resurfaces from the drying patches of grass, when you look out the window. Every single sighting, a reminder of your shameful encounter from days before.

Arguably, Max went through her curse in a much more agreeable state than you. The little ginger kept her headphones on dutifully, giving you an annoyed glance, when you took a bit too long to put on yours. Guilt squeezed the insides of your stomach in vice-like grip, whenever she looked at you with this unreadable expression of hers. Like she could read your scrunched eyebrows, deduce the whole story from the way you bit your lip whenever the monster's name was mentioned. She knew something was wrong, of that you were certain. And despite all that, despite the shame consuming your insides, you still wanted nothing more, than to hold the child's hand, to tell her everything was going to turn out fine. Even if you didn't believe a word from that sentiment.

There was a plan forming. A very half-assed plan, that had nearly as many holes, as Swiss cheese. But it was the best you lot had, and after hearing Nancy's prophetic visions, you knew, there was little time for thinking. When you first heard that Vecna, One, Henry, whatever his name was, had imprisoned Nancy in the Upside Down, had shown her nightmares beyond comprehension, your blood ran cold. What did she see, what did he show her? Did she know about your little altercation in her bathroom? Hopefully not. You couldn't stand the thought of your friend knowing about your momentary lapse of strong will.

- He only has one kill left - Dustin says gravely, his hand squeezing your wrist.

You can't look at him. Can't stand seeing your brother worry so much, especially since you are supposed to be the one looking after him. Perhaps Vecna was right, perhaps you really did fail him. You shudder under the oppressing thought, squeezing your eyes shut, so no one can see your pained expression. Despite all that, the feeling of his eyes burning holes into your face makes you twist your palm. You give his smaller hand a hard squeeze, one, that hopefully conveyed just how much he doesn't have to worry about you. Even if you can always hear the sound of the clock just below the music. Even if Vecna keeps sending you visions of spiders crawling over your friends shoulders, little reminders, that after all, you are completely and utterly alone.

Your eyes drift towards Max. She stands straight as an arrow, staring with unseeing eyes, a deep scowl on her face. Your heart nearly wrenches itself out of your chest. This poor fucking kid.

You'd never tell this to Dustin, or anyone else, to be frank. But when Vecna inevitably attacks again, you wish he'd go after you. Max doesn't deserve this, any of this, and despite knowing that you're not ready to die, you'd give yourself over in the blink of an eye, to save her. To save any of the kids. You've watched them grow, alongside your brother, and you'd be damned if you didn't consider every single one of them family.

You've taught Dustin how to ride a bike, your daily lessons quickly gaining an audience of his three friends. Not only that, but you made them sandwiches, when they started hanging out for hours on end, becoming the cool sister. One, that smuggled them sweets and soda, when their parents worried about potential rotten teeth.

Which is why you raise your hand immediately, when the subject of a trap entered the room. You needed to keep Vecna occupied, keep him in one place while others got to his lair. So, the most logical answer would be, to give yourself over. Serving yourself on a silver platter, and praying it gives everyone enough time.

Max leaves the camper, the moment the decision is made. She can't look at you. To be quite honest, not one person from the group can hold your gaze. The pity painted on their faces is making you squirm. It's a small price to pay for stopping the end of the world, and there were quite a few ideas already brewing in your mind.

You wonder how much you can really push your luck.

He did say, he wanted to keep you, savor the guilt or whatever the fuck he enjoys tasting these days. You'd be lying, if the prospect of using this newfound connection to the monster didn't fill you with a sense of anticipation. The memory of his tormenting touches both painful and arousing. What do the people call it? The Call of The Void? You've read about it sometime ago, during one of your weekly raids conducted on the local library. It is a phrase used to describe an unexplainable impulse to hurl yourself into the void, be it height, or, in your case, the life-ending embrace of a monster.

The hot summer air hits your face, as you exit Max's camper. The whole team wearing determined expressions on their faces, the plan slowly rolling into action. You fell behind the group, lost in thought, a deep scowl painting your features as you mulled over all the possible outcomes. None of them were without gigantic risks, and you dreaded for the safety of your friends. Max had explained to you her idea, how to keep Vecna at bay, how to hide from him inside your own mind. Since then, you kept mulling over any happy memories you could find. Prom night, your sixteenth birthday, the day the group first introduced you to Eleven. Images flash behind your eyes, as White Rabbit slowly comes to an end. The grass under your feet is starting to become yellow from the unreleting sun.

That's when a gentle hand on your wrist catches your attention, snapping you back to reality from the confines of your daydreaming. Gentle, brown eyes peer at you from under a cheap rendition of a Michael Myers mask. One of his slender hands drags the rubber up, so the man can look at you properly. Curse him and his dimples, you think, as Eddie Munson smiles at you. There's worry painted across his face, as his eyes swipe all over you, taking in your expression like this is the first time you've seen each other.

- Hey - he says in a hushed whisper, and you can't help but smile at his casual tone.

You can feel his rings drag the material of your shirt, when he rubs his hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. Never, not once in all the years you knew about, or heard about Eddie Munson, did you notice the way his eyes reflected rays of sunshine. It is truly a shame your brother didn't bother to introduce you before all hell broke loose. At the same time, maybe it was for the better. Your mother would surely develop a heart disease from all the stress, after seeing her children hang around a man such as Eddie. Light catches on one of his rings, and you are cruelly reminded, that time does not, in fact, stay still, no matter how much you wish it to.

- Hey - you answer, cheeks already forming a blush, to your inner despair.

- You okay? You look kind of... not...here - his hands move, when he speaks, even when he tries to be subtle.

To that, you smile, a shaky one, but a smile nonetheless. A chuckle escapes you, one, that startles you in its sincerity. Eddie smiles as well, cheeks coming up to frame his beautiful, dark eyes.

- Yeah, well, being the bait will do that to you - you attempt to joke, even if the words leave a bitter taste on your tongue.

You can clearly see a shadow of concern flash across his face, as his hand squeezes your shoulder a bit tighter. He's one of those people, who wear their emotions clear as day. There's no guessing about what he's feeling, and you appreciate that. From all the new and terrifying things barging into your life, Eddie proves to be the least confusing.

- I wish I could tell you everything will be alright - he sighs, eyes leaving your face in favor of dancing across the space between the two of you.

- You don't have to, really - you assure him, one hand coming up to rest atop his, giving his slender fingers a soft squeeze, hopefully conveying everything your words cannot.

His face stretches out in a smile, eyes sparkling with that gentle expression you've come to anticipate. And then, you blink.

And when you open your eyes, there's no Eddie.

Instead of his familiar frame, your eyes fall onto a stained-glass rose, floating into the red sky, right in front of your face. You scream, stumble back, until your foot catches onto some sort of root, and you fall backwards. Your body collides with the wet surface underneath, something rotten immediately seeping into the fabric of your clothes, red substance splashing across your shoes. The sight wrenches a gag from your throat. The air is thick and unpleasant, residue clings to your skin, invading your eyes and nose. You cough into a balled fist, and shudder at the unpleasant, tearing feeling in your larynx. Then, just as you're about to take a shaky breath, something wraps itself around your throat.

Before you can even think of screaming, your oxygen gets cut off, and you are forcibly yanked up, to your feet. As much as you struggle and wail, you cannot contort your head back enough, to see, what is holding you captive. It feels raw and fleshy on your skin, and if you focus hard enough, you can almost distinguish four, sharp fingers along with a thumb, squeezing down. Your legs kick out, as you begin to feel lightheaded, and just as the corners of your vision begin to fade to black, the hold loosens. The gasping breath you take feels like razors going down your throat. You take it anyway, despite the pain, tears springing in your eyes.

- So troublesome - you hear a terrifyingly familiar voice, words muttered into the crown of your head, lips moving in your hair.

Fear, like living ice, climbs up your entire body, when the realization as to where exactly you ended up in, falls on you like an avalanche. There's various debris flying around you. Pieces of wooden structures, gigantic, warped remains of cement, smaller rubble falling from the sky. Pieces of a home, you realize, as you begin to recognize wooden columns, a set of ornate stairs, windows. Out in the red space, a familiar grandfather's clock begins to spin, slowly, like it has all the time in the world.

- Let me go - you mutter, brain beginning to slow down, some sort of confounding fog coming over your senses, one, which you refuse to associate with desire.

There's a chuckle, clawed fingers flex around your neck, sharp nails retracting. Soon, there's no memory of a monster holding you captive, and if you look down, you can see a blurred image of a familiar white shirt. He's back to playing pretend, or so it seemed. You'd be lying, if you said you weren't grateful for that small change. It helped to keep your mind from breaking, well, from breaking completely. You want to scream, to tear your body away from this creature, which has caused nothing except blood and suffering. But as you boil on the inside, there's a pressure at your back. A warmth of a body being pressed against yours.

Another hand finds its purchase around your waist, fingers dragging across your shirt, toying with the hem, but never quite catching your skin.

- You know - he starts in a light voice, goosebumps erupting all across your skin from the feeling of his breath fanning over the back of your neck - I never liked sharing.

There's an edge to his deep rumble, one, that makes you open your eyes and hold your body taunt as a string. But he's breathing. My God, he really is breathing. Which means, either he learned how to pretend to be human, even more convincingly... Or he was real, tangible, not some figment of your corrupted mind.

- My mother, my stupid, pathetic mother, used to make me share all my toys with my sister. All my childhood I've never had anything, that was truly mine.

At the word "mine" his head dips down behind you, nose burying deep into the juncture between your shoulder and your neck. You shudder yet again, as he takes a long whiff of air, before letting out a nearly sinful groan. It shakes the very bones inside of you, and your body immediately reacts, a familiar pressure of arousal seizing your lower stomach.

- Which is why - he continues after composing himself, voice still slightly rough - I do not enjoy my things being taken away from me, even for a second.

There's a pregnant pause between the two of you, and you realize, he's waiting for you to say something.

Your brain scrambles for any response to this vague sentiment he has presented you with. Taken away? You weren't taken away in any way, shape or form. He let you go, quite literally. So, you stand, eyes still searching for any means of escape, as you feel him move against your back, like a restless snake. His head comes to rest upon your shoulder, and you know he's looking at your face. His eyes bear into you, drilling holes into your cheek, as if he's trying to see your teeth through your skin. He probably can. This is his domain after all.

- I don't know what you're talking about - you seethe through your teeth, testing your strength against his grip.

Another chuckle, but this one sounds too cold, too humorless, and with a gasp, you feel his hand leave your throat, fingers immediately digging into your hair and grabbing a handful. Then, he spins you around, like a ragdoll, until you are forced to look him in the eye. The beautiful, blue eyes, ones, which holds a cruel glint of sinister pleasure at the sight of your contorted face.

- Do you think I'm stupid? - he asks, all gentleness leaving his voice, and for a split second, you can see his image flicker, giving you a glimpse of the monster he truly was.

The gasp you let out is drowned by a wet, disgusting sound, as his hands throw you back, causing you to land on your backside. The floor welcomes you just like it did moments before, with this weird, unnatural substance coating your clothes, your skin, your hair. Before you can even think of finding your bearings, the man bends down. His movements elegant and effortless, as he climbs over your body. One hand on your knee pushes your legs apart, until he can sit between them comfortably.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, when he drags his eyes through the length of your body, before captivating you in that cold gaze of his. There's no escape from his eyes, and the pure evil lurking within. Evil, and something else. Something, he can read from your own face as easily, as one would read the alphabet.

- Please - you breath out, although you're not sure what you're begging for.

His delicate lips stretch out into a knowing smile. But there's no kindness in his expression, and before you can register this familiar, sinister glint in his baby-blue eyes, his hand grips your throat yet again. This time, his muscles twitch, and you gasp, as your head gets pushed to the ground. Liquid seeps into your hair, dyeing it the color of rust. The force of the impact shakes the very brain inside of your skull, and as specs of white dance around your vision, you try your best to focus on his features.

He leans in, keeping his gaze fixed on your disoriented face, until you can feel the illusion of a breath tickle your temple. Then, you fight to surpress a moan, when he drags his teeth over your earlobe.

- I told you, I will destroy all your friends, everyone you love - he whispers cruel words in the most tender of tones.

Your blood runs cold, and he pins you to the ground, as your body tenses up.

- And, because you force my hand, I will make sure Edward Munson suffers the most.

Panic, bloodcurdling and sudden like a shockwave, ripples through your entire body. Suddenly, you realize why you're here. Because you smiled at him, because you entertained the notion of exploring further relationship... Because you knew you were chosen by the monster, and you still wanted the hero.

- No - your voice is weak, and so is your body, as you start to struggle under his lithe form.

- Oh yes - the monster leans back, to look at your face, a beautiful, radiant smile painting his features - Yes, because it will hurt you. Yes, because I want to see your heartbreak. I want you to understand, without a doubt, that there is only one person in all of the universe you belong to.

Tears start to pool at the corners of your eyes, pain and regret twisting your features. Eddie's face worms itself into your mind, beautiful, brown eyes hollowed and bloody, jaw unnaturally bent.

- And that person - Vecna's image shifts, as rage shakes his stature atop yours - Is me.

Nothing could prepare you for the kiss he has wrenched out of you. His lips soft and unrelenting, as they descended upon yours, like a thunder from the sky. Teeth clink against yours, when he demands access to your mouth, one, you're determined to withhold. That's when his free hand grips your jaw in a vice grip, fingers pressing into your gums, until you are forced to open your mouth. He's quick to fill it, wet tongue immediately searching every crevice it can reach.

Despite it's cruelty, your back arches into the kiss, body writhing underneath him. Your eyes remain tightly screwed shut, as you let the monster take it's fill of you. Hand twists your hair, adding even more pressure at your scalp, and soon you start to worry he'll rip out a chunk of your locks. His other hand is restless as well, traveling the expanse of your stomach, worming itself under the cotton fabric of your shirt.

The feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh of your breast is familiar. Reminiscent of your previous encounter in the bathroom, although much more terrifying.

Because now, you know this isn't just a game you're playing with the monster on your own.You've dragged another, innocent person along with you, straight into the void. Tears preak the corners of your eyes at the mere thought, of what Vecna has in store for your hero.

- Tell me... - his melodic voice brings you back to reality, eyes snapping open, as you gasp for air.

He looks as unaffected as ever, his illusion of a face just a breath away from yours. You marvel at how realistic it looks, at the way you can see the texture of his skin. The way his flawless cheeks now carry a shade of pink so pretty, you almost forget what he is.

- Tell me... - he repeats, softer this time, his palm sliding from under your shirt, in favor of finding one of your hands.

He brings your arm closer to him, leaning away so he can press a kiss right at your wrist. Your eyes flutter at the gesture, and shame mixes with desire in your gut. He has no right, being what he is, and still doing what he does to you.

- Tell me... - a whisper, lips ghosting over the underside of your forearm.

- When he touches you - your body goes rigid, but he doesn't deter, a ghost of a kiss in the hook of your elbow - Do you feel safe from me?

Your eyes lock, blue encasing yours like the deepest parts of the ocean, dragging you down, and down, towards the darkest of hells. You feel so stupid now. Just another idiot girl, thinking she can outrun unstoppable evil. Thinking, she can find a safehaven in some oblivious boy she barely knew.

But there's still some fight left in your bones, and as his head dips below to bite at your shoulder, you strike. Bending your arm at a speed you're quite surprised you possess. Your fingers find purchase against some fleshy vine creation. It twists in your grasp, a living organism of it's own, despite coming out of his body. Without much of a thought, you pull, fast and ruthless, until the vine pops free. Hot, dark liquid covers your hand, sticking to your skin in a disgusting coat.

The reaction is instantaneous.

Vecna snarls, his body flinging itself off of yours, as he grips the side of his neck. The illusion is gone. What once was a beautiful, angelic man, now is an aglamation of vines and leathery skin. You don't wait any longer, scrambling to your feet. Sneakers you've picked up at a garage sale years ago nearly fall off of your feet, as you throw yourself into a sprint. Muscles scream at you, from under your skin. They've never been used quite as intensely as this, and you know full-well, you won't be able to keep this tempo up for long.

There isn't really any place to run, your mind being completely infected by this vision of a red wasteland. Staying here would be a death sentence however, so, you choose an unfamiliar line of trees, somewhere in the distance. Perhaps, you could hide inside the forest. Wait out, until your friends find a way to help you. Because they will find a way. They aways do.

All your hopes are snuffed away in an instant. You make marely a couple of steps towards your supposed freedom, when a hand grabs at the back of your shirt. Stitches tear, as your body is flung in the air, landing with a sickening splatter right at the bottom of the lonesome, wooden stairs. Every bone in your body hurts, adrenaline making your muscles shake so much, you can't support your weight enough, to push yourself up.

Vecna descends upon you, a wicked snarl twisting his monstrous features. Your head starts to pound, images of the monster and the angelic boy flicker, mixing together right in front of your eyes. You don't know, what you're looking at. You don't know, which face you punch with all your might.

Henry Creel falls onto the floor, as your foot kicks out, hitting him right in the stomach. Vecna gathers himself up, and pounces on you again, as you try to crawl up the stairs. Then, it's Henry again, putting his hand around your neck in a gesture so familiar, it doesn't shock you anymore. Vecna glitches through, as you show your teeth, like a wild animal, that fights as hard as it can, before being put into a cage.

- Get the fuck off me - your voice is raw, breathless, as Henry's human form finally stabilizes for good.

Blonde locks fall in front of his eyes, framing his face in a way you've never seen before. There is wildness and rage in his gaze, one, you mirror with a feverish look of your own. Then, time stops, for only a second. Your breaths mix together, lips so close, you can almost feel them biting into your skin. There's anger brewing under your skin, a writhing, ugly feeling, much like his true form. But there is also desire, newly awakened by this short chase.

- Remember this - he whispers into the space between the two of you, and your eyebrows shoot up in confusion - I am going to ruin you completely.

He doesn't kiss you on the lips this time. Instead, his head dives down, immediatelly attacking your neck, teeth scraping that one place, where he can see your pulse run rampant. With a loud moan, you let go, finally giving yourself up. Jumping into the Void with arms wide open, ready to embrace the nothingness. Henry doesn't waste time, his hands drag your shirt upwards, your arms nearly dislocating, as he forcefully tears the fabric from your body. And you let him, your skin growing hungry for his touch with every second.

Then, comes the time for your pants. You slide down two steps, when this monster of a man fights with the damp fabric. Finally, he frees your legs, throwing the offending piece of garment somewhere into the red void.

The wooden steps dig painfully into your legs and your back. Your head bumps into the edge of the railing, and you pray your injuries don't transfer to the real world. If you ever make it out of here. Henry's body writhes between your open legs, as he unbuttons his white pants. Somehow, his attire remains unaffected by the grime of the surroundings. Your brain is too focused on him, on his fingers tearing into your flesh, to remember, that his current form is an illusion.

It certainly doesn't feel like an illusion, when he yanks your underwear to the side, and enters you in a swift movement of his hips. Your back arches from the steps, legs flailing, as you struggle to accommodate his size. While your first encounter in Nancy Wheeler's bathroom was all about teasing you, this feels more urgent, like there's truly some grand shadow of a time running out, hanging over you both.

Nails dig into the wood of the stairs, scraping the laquered coating. You don't know what to do with your hands, with any of your limbs for the matter. Because no matter where you put them, Henry immediately pistons into your with such force, your body shakes. And, what is perhaps the most terrifying thought of all, it feels good.

The way he pounds into you with reckless abandon, the way his hand comes up to grip your hair. His other hand holds tightly onto the wooden railing, muscles working overtime under the white fabric of his shirt. His head burries itself into the crook of your neck, where he pants, groans and whimpers, every sound sending delicious shivers all across your insides. This is you, this is all your doing. Your head falls back at the realization.

The pressure building at a fast pace in your lower stomach makes you buck your hips up, to meet Henry halfway, to take him in deeper.

- Tell me, who do you belong to? - he seethes into your ear, twisting your hair. - Say it's me, only me, who can make you feel this way.

You hate him so much, it shakes you to your very core. But, his thrusts slow down just enough, to make you whine at the loss of stimulation. You were so close, climbing towards your release with each bruising move of his hips.

- Say you're mine - he grits out, looking at you with those baby-blue eyes of his, so cruel and animalistic.

It's just words, after all. Just words, and you were so close.

- I'm yours - you don't recognize your voice, it sounds so far away - I'm your and it's only you, who can make me feel this way.

He seems satisfied, capturing your lips in a biting kiss.

One move is all it takes, a single, brutal thrust of his hips, and you're unraveling. Muscles spasm all at once, and the sound that wrenches itself out of your raw throat can only be described as a howl of a wild animal. He finishes not far behind, his hips stuttering, before finally, he lets out a strangled groan. His arm gives out, falling from the railing to the floor, and the weight of his body feels surprisingly grounding, as you try not to pass out from all the feelings overtaking you.

- Damn you - he whispers, hand grazing your cheek in a manner that could be considered romantic.

"No, damn you" you want to say, but can't find the strength to.

And as you both lay there, squeezed into the corner of the wooden steps, you blink again.

And when your eyes open, all you can see, are beautiful, brown eyes, looking at you with such concern and kindness, your heart breaks.

- Guys, she woke up! - Eddie screams, not once looking away from your face. - You completely lost conciousness back there. Gone! Poof!

His hands are warm on your shoulders, so gentle, so caring. And in that moment, as you look at him with pained expression, painted with guilt and fear of what will befall him, all you can do is break down and start crying.

...

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@justtryingtobecreative @shellbeerocks @potato-dragons @sad-innit @lhsthinkr @z4hr4inhere @m1ndbrand @guyinachair27 @7minutes-tomidnight @rand0m--fangirl @universallycloudkid @fate-huntress @queenofthehellfireclub @ulilililiu @sam28637 @thedoubleexposurephotography @hercherrysong @cc13723things @queenofshinigamis @lokistyxx @darkened-writer @alexiaryder @lauftivy @axxochiisstuff @gayqueen420 @angelicadiabolus @julietsecretdiary @miliewayne @4ud13nc3

#peter ballard x reader #henry creel x reader #my writing #stranger things #vecna x reader #001 x reader #peter ballard #henry creel #tw:dark fic

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