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#i’m being coy about it cause i’m so excited to draw it and i want it to be a surprise
sonic-adventure-3 · 10 months
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augh drawing a hundred tiny stars by hand to populate a desolate world of nothing but floating rocks for one little guy has got me so emo. hold on. hold on. AUGH. i’m not crying but damn thinking about what if all the stars in our sky were hand-placed just so makes me wanna believe in some god or another
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yandere-sins · 3 years
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One More
Genshin makes my imagination vibrate pleasantly. I just want to give Kaeya a reason to make me go “Oh?” cause he’s not even my one of my favs. But the sheer sex appeal coming from that man is dangerous.
Characters: Kaeya Alberich (Genshin Impact) x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Groping, Innuendos, Alcohol, Aphrodisiacs, Insults
»»———————— ♡ ————————««        
“Hey there, Sweetheart. What’s bringing you to the tavern so late at night?”
You had barely entered Angel’s Share and sat down at the bar before hearing the ever-so chipper voice of the cavalry captain drawing closer. There was nothing strange about meeting Kaeya here after a long day of work, but you and Charles exchanged a glance, the bartender sighing deeply. “I’ve only served him two drinks so far,” he explained, and you couldn’t help but think that was already one too many. 
But who were you to say no to the Kaeya?
Perhaps better than anyone, Kaeya knew about the little game you two were playing. The always so icy shoulder you gave him as he continued to pressure you with his flirts was only making him want you so much more. You couldn’t count the number of times he had stopped you in the headquarters, pinned you between him and the wall - in broad daylight nonetheless - asking how you’re doing and if you need help with anything. You. Were. Sick of it! If he wanted a child to play father for, he could ask Klee to hang out with him! You, on the other hand, were a remarkable knight, trusted enough with complicated orders that - luckily! - kept you out of the city for a prolonged time so you could avoid him. 
It only was hard when you weren’t on duty. Or in the city. Or close to him. 
That’s when he became frisky, rather needy too.
Kaeya brushed his face from the left side of your head to the right, taking a deep breath. If it wasn’t known that you two reached back all the way to your training days, anyone would have raised an eyebrow. But most of the other guards were able to brush off his weirdness for affectionate friendship. It was almost like only you could see behind the farce, and perhaps his estranged brother. Not like Diluc had been any help to you, though, aside from breaking Kaeya off you once or twice when he was around and noticing your discomfort.
Taking up the stool beside you, there was no prior question if the seat was taken. A rather empty keg arrived with Kaeya at the bar, and he briefly tapped the rim until Charles fished for another bottle of alcohol to fill it up with. One could say Kaeya and a drink were a good mix, but to you, they were a terrible combination. Drinking made him bold. Unrestrained even. 
Even though he offered his keg to you, you merely looked away, sipping at your own glass, one you much rather preferred to the brew he drank his night away with. Grinning, he instead took a hearty sip, leaning against the counter leisurely as he watched the bards perform near the entrance, but you didn’t miss even a single glance he sent your way every few seconds. 
It was very unfortunate that you liked Angel’s Share for its drinks best; otherwise, you’d have had a good reason to avoid the establishment. But at the same time, you couldn’t let Kaeya direct all of your life. It was no state that you shouldn’t do what you enjoyed just because he could be there, and yet, you considered it. 
“So, how was your mission? I’ve been missing your skills at training.”
“It was fine,” you answered curtly, uninterested in the conversation he initiated. There weren’t many people you talked to when you came back to Mondstadt. Somehow… it had always been hard for you to make friends with the other knights. Part of you suspected Kaeya being a reason why no one seemed to want to hang around, forcing you to spend most of your training with him since no one was willing to spar with you. Then again, you never had any evidence to confirm your suspicion, just like with many other phenomena you experienced over the years.
More than once had there been instances where your orders had been withdrawn just when you came close to solving the problems, often with the excuses that you were still too inexperienced or needed somewhere else. It had been so hard to raise in the ranks while Kaeya seemed to make leaps forward without a worry, but at least, you managed to secure your place now--one far away from the cavalry captain.
Sighing, Kaeya turned around to face the counter again, plopping his arm around your shoulders. Uncomfortably, you rolled your joints, but he instead pulled you closer to him, the smell of alcohol drafting off his lips as he spoke. “No need to play coy. You know you can tell me the truth. Didn’t you miss being home? I’m sure cleaning up those camps must have been exhausting!”
Missed being with me? seemed to be the words he wanted to say, but he packaged them in a way he knew they’d actually affect you. Kaeya had always been clever enough to poke the places that hurt. Of course, you missed home. You’d miss it more if not for him, but you had your family here, your siblings and parents that you’d like to see more often. But there was no chance with how much Kaeya liked to interfere in it. As if he was already part of your family, inviting himself and always showing up unannounced to hang out.
“‘Twas okay,” you replied after a moment of thought. 
“Well, I missed you,” he chuckled before taking another sip of his keg. “I missed you sooo much!”
That was enough for you, brushing his arm off roughly before turning on your stool to leave. You knew even finding another space to sit wouldn’t spare you from him, and if you ended up in a less crowded area, you didn’t want to imagine what he’d do. “Aw, come on,” you heard behind you as he gripped your arm, making you stop. “I get it, I get it, you’re tired. But you can’t be tired enough not to drink one more with your old pal, right?”
With his voice rising in volume, you two finally gained some attention, and you instantly felt a rush of embarrassment as you stared into quite a few pairs of perplex eyes. Kaeya might have been eccentric, but he was well-liked nonetheless. Causing a scene had never worked well for you, and since you were already deemed an outsider, you’d only catapult yourself more into the shadows if any rumors spread after you left. 
Clicking your tongue, you tore yourself out of his grip before sitting back on your chair again, holding up your finger. “One more. Only one more.”
“Of course,” Kaeya grinned, getting his will once again. “Only one.”
»»————— ♡
Hot lips brushing against each other, you had no better way to describe your state of being other than burning. For someone so cool and with an icy skill, Kaeya was not even close to being cold and reserved when it came to touching you. With a smile displayed on his mouth whenever he wasn’t using it to tease you, you could barely remember how you two ended up making out in one of the backstreets of Mondstadt. His hands were seemingly everywhere, and at the same time, lingered at the spots that created an audible cue from you when he squeezed them. 
“You’re so sensitive,” he noted as you hung in his arms, hands currently squeezing your ass from your thighs upwards. “That’s good, I like that.”
“Fucker,” you merely cursed back. “You only said one more drink! I feel like shit! What the hell was that?”
“On the contrary, you feel amazing,” he ignored your questions, pushing his leg between yours as he pressed you closer to the cold stone wall behind you. A welcome sensation, giving you back some of your senses as the chill helped to calm your heated body. “I fucking hate you, Kaeya,” you confessed drunkenly, but the time was as good as any to say it.
“Ouch,” he brushed it off with a chuckle. “Are you sure? Your body grinding against mine is giving me very different vibes, Darling.”
Next thing, he was back in your mouth, his tongue roaming and keeping yours busy as you slung your arms around him. “You’re so stupid and mean, always testing everyone. You’re probably the reason everyone is avoiding me too, and you don’t let off no matter how much I tell you to leave me alone!”
“Mhm,” he hummed as his lips wandered down your neck, making you stretch it out for him so he could reach better. “And now... I don’t even know! You drugged me?!” 
A soft laugh escaped him before you felt a suck at your collarbone, followed by the wet sensation of a tongue tasting your skin. “Bingo, Baby. Lisa really wanted to know what would happen if someone drank this potion and you were all too eager to get it down your throat-”
“To get away from you!” you interrupted him.
“Whatever.”
Finally, Kaeya came up on eye level again, the two of you staring at each other for a moment in silence. 
“Whatever?” you questioned, confused by his reaction. 
“Yeah, whatever. I think kissing you made me swallow at least, hm... half of it too. Even if we wanted to, we wouldn’t be able to stop now, don’t you think?” 
One of the most disgusting grins you had ever seen on the face of a person played around his lips as he pressed up to you, uniting you two in another kiss. Of course, you could stop it! You could, and you would right now. After all, you had allowed it to go on for far too long now! Pressing your hands into his shoulders, Kaeya let out a soft sigh against your lips, his uncovered eye closed as he enjoyed the affection. “One more,” he mumbled as he kissed you again and again, feverishly and impatiently. “I’ve been waiting forever to do this.”
With the excitement of a teenage boy, his hands roamed your body, pulling out the shirt from your trousers to lodge themselves beneath it. Skillful fingertips drew patterns over your skin, up your spine, and down your sides until you were gasping and shivering in his grasp. “Good,” he sighed against your lips, unbothered by you still trying to push him away, only ever flinching as he groped you. “Don’t you already know it? How much you drive me crazy? It’s only fair I drive you crazy too.”
“What the fuck are you even talking about--” you tried to contradict him. But Kaeya was quick to muffle your voice with another deep kiss. Intentionally or not, he met one of your sensitive spots as he explored you, causing a hitched moan to escape you, followed by a satisfied grunt from him. “I’ve been waiting for so long, I can’t have you take it from me now,” he breathed out huskily. 
“I’ll scream!” you threatened him. “Let me go now, Kaeya!”
“Ah-ah,” he rebuked you, one of his hands being freed of groping-duty to cover your mouth. “No one’s going to take you away from me now either. Come one, be good, okay?”
Waiting for the right moment, Kaeya couldn’t endure your angry stare for very long before falling into soft laughter. “All right, all right,” he chuckled before leaning forward brushing his lips against his hand. “One more kiss, okay? I will leave you alone after that.”
Furrowing your brows even more, he interpreted you shaking your head as a ‘no’, letting out a long, “Aww…” 
“Only one more, pretty please?” 
You had to give it to him: persistency was something he didn’t lack. It felt like shooting into your own foot, but part of you just wanted it to be over. You two had kissed so much up till now; how much worse would one more be? And if he let you go afterwards, you could definitely endure it. Lifting up your hand to yank his from your mouth, Kaeya didn’t expect you to take the initiative, looking at you perplexed as you leaned forward to kiss him. No one ever taught you how to kiss, and without his directions, you weren’t actually sure on how any of it worked, but he didn’t seem to mind, humming a pleased tune before returning your awkward smooches.
When was a kiss one kiss? When the lips parted? After the first initial touch? Kaeya’s definition was two minutes of continuous connection between you two, only briefly drawing back for air but never without upholding the contact by biting and pulling on your lip or having your tongue following his out of your mouth into the cold night. He gripped your head tightly in his palms, not allowing you to get away. Only when he let go did you fall back hard against the wall as you two finally broke apart, and you hadn’t noticed how much he had held you up. 
The rich flavor of alcohol on your tongue and his scent in your nose didn’t help with getting a clear mind, but nothing about you made sense anymore. Now that he had let you fall back and away from him, you felt even hotter than before, your body clearly bothered by the lack of stimulation. What part of ‘I wanted none of this’ did you not understand yourself? At least by the throbbing in your abdomen, you could tell that whatever kind of potion he had given to you definitely wasn’t a fun experience, but all the more potent. 
“Hurts, huh?” he laughed across from you. “Oh, fuck off,” you mustered to say, but the pain was obvious by your expression. You were barely able to keep yourself up properly.
“I’d offer my help, but you made it clear you didn’t want it.” The situation must have been really funny to him, only agitating you more. If it at least hadn’t been Kaeya, you might have accepted help, but you knew you’d have to get yourself home now all by yourself in a state of constant heat with no way to resolve it. 
“You caused all of this! You should at least take responsibility without taking advantage of the situation!”
Pushing yourself away from the wall, you decided it was time to step away. There was no use in talking with Kaeya, but the moment your support dwindled, you noticed how wobbly your legs felt, barely capable of holding you up. What had you trained all these years for if a mere potion could make you so incredibly weak? Before you could get back to the wall, one knee gave away, making you sink to the ground where you could barely catch yourself with your hands. 
“It’s really working you hard, isn’t it?” you heard him speak down from above. Squatting to your level, you felt his hand slide through your hair before gripping and lifting your head to face him. “Tell you what: If you ask nicely, I’ll help you. Can’t promise you’ll wake up in your bed tomorrow morning, but a bed nonetheless, wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Fuck you,” you hissed back, and he shook his head, disappointed. 
“Try again.”
What choices did you have? Risk the little bit of reputation you still had by being found in the morning, disheveled and drunk from the night before? The knights absolutely hated anything that would ruin their pristine prestige, so much even you knew. You had worked so hard to get where you were, could you really risk all of it? “... please,” escaped you before you could think it through further. 
“What was that?” he teased you, and you wondered why he could still be so clear even after drinking much more than you did and having had a taste of the potion from your lips. “Please help me get home.”
This time, he laughed out loud, obviously amused by how pitiful you had to behave to please him. “One more time. Say it one more time, and say it nice.”
Frustrated, you wished you could have punched him in the face, but you only bit your lip, taking a deep breath before complying. “Please, Kaeya. I need your help to get home. Please help me home!”
Embarrassment was all you could think about as he conditioned you to do as he wanted, but finally, after you did what Kaeya demanded, he petted your head, leaning forward to kiss your forehead before reaching under your arms to pull you up. “Look at you, all cute and begging me for help.”
Quickly being lifted from the ground, you found your new halt by gripping into his shoulders tightly and wrapping your legs around his waist as he held you in front of him. “You’re so adorable!” he chuckled as you clung to him much more in fear of him letting you fall than because you wanted it. He seemed to have similar thoughts, giving you a bit of a scare as he let go of you, having you hang from him by only your own strength, which you didn’t trust anymore. But just as quickly, your horrified expression made him laugh, and he gave your rear a teasing slap. Lucky for you, Kaeya didn’t make you fear any longer, embracing you back and allowing you to sink against him more as he started to make his way through the streets of Mondstadt. From an onlooker’s point of view, it might have seemed like you jumped him out of joy, but really, you clung on as if your life depended on it while Kaeya seemingly enjoyed the hug.
“Just get me home, you Asshole,” you grumbled, but your insults didn’t do any damage to his good mood. “Sure, I’ll get you home,” he replied chipper, but you already had bad thoughts as you heard that.
“At least, the place I call ‘home’,” he confirmed your suspicion, and inwardly, you already admitted defeat even as you punched your fist into his shoulder. 
“You know how it is,” he brushed it off lightly, patting your backside while he climbed the stairs towards the headquarters with seemingly no effort. 
“I can never refuse you or leave you be. I adore you way too much.”
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dearkusuo · 3 years
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Unchanging
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Synopsis: He was content with the simplicities life had to offer, while you sought out the world.
Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x artist!reader
Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst
Word Count: 3.6k
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You first heard of him back in your second year of high school. There was nothing about Saiki Kusuo that stood out to you, but your good friend, Yumehara Chiyo, thought otherwise.
“Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince? He’s so dreamy that I can’t keep my eyes off of him. He’s so cool and mysterious,” your friend blabbered. If by cool and mysterious, she meant cold and aloof, then you completely agreed. 
Even the popular pretty girl, Teruhashi Kokomi, seemed enraptured by him, despite Saiki’s unwillingness to shower her any attention like every guy in school. She never told you about her crush on him, but it was obvious through her body language alone that she was smitten by the pink-haired boy.
You didn’t understand their fleeting infatuation for someone they hardly knew - never experienced the feeling of falling hard for someone from the depths of your soul that they were the only person you could think about. And you were perfectly content with that. You had bigger dreams to achieve than a small high school romance that wasn’t guaranteed to last long anyway.
The Okinawa school trip was an outing that all the second years in PK Academy were looking forward to, you included. Although you had a feeling that your friends, Chiyo and Kokomi, had different intentions for tagging along. 
They must have been so elated that the three of you ended up in the same group with the boy they liked.
You carried on disregarding Kokomi and Chiyo’s painfully obvious antics to spend time with their beloved prince charming until later that evening when you decided to take a walk outside the hotel alone. You convinced yourself that a late-night stroll would be an enjoyable pastime, but really, you wanted to get away from the love-struck fantasies of your two friends who were oblivious of the fact that they were both pursuing the same boy.
You don’t know how long you’ve been wandering around, but by the time you returned, the hotel had disappeared from your sight. Two recognizable figures stood by a large hole torn on the ground. A battered ship had risen from the gap where the building used to be.
Toritsuka Reita from Class 2-2 stood next to your pink-haired group member while Saiki had a hand directed at the ship, indicating that he was the one causing it to float midair. Your jaw dropped in disbelief at the sight before you.
Saiki turned his head in your direction as if he knew you were there all along. He kept his usual blank composure, although you could recognize the wary look in his eyes as he stared at you. Toritsuka panicked upon the realization that you were there to witness the whole scene.
You didn’t know how you should've reacted when the two boys told you of their psychic powers. 
“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.
‘I know,’ Saiki’s voice echoed into your mind.
The rest of the trip went by smoothly after that incident. Kokomi subsequently spoke out about the crush she had on Saiki, and Chiyo announced that she had fallen for Kaidou Shun. 
You shook your head in wonder at the orange-haired girl. It was astonishing how quickly she was able to abandon her feelings for one boy and move on to someone else so quickly.
You realized that love was brief and ever-changing like the ticking seconds on a clock. There was no point in wasting time on such a fickle emotion when the only thing you would devote yourself to were your ambitions for the future. 
Nevertheless, a subconscious bond had been formed between you and Saiki after you learned his secret. 
You shared a glance with the psychic from afar as Kokomi relayed to you the dream she had of the boy she liked.
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He was kinder and a lot less indifferent than you originally thought. Saiki wouldn’t admit it, but you would notice the subtle acts he performed to help out a troubled stranger and the small deeds he initiated to prevent harm from coming across the people around him.
 You finally acknowledged Saiki as a friend after he deliberately shared his umbrella with you during a particularly rainy day.
‘Good grief. I was feeling generous today, so this is nothing. Just make sure to come to school prepared next time,’ he had told you after you first rejected his help in worry of troubling him.
You found out much later that he could have stopped the rain with his abilities.
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The empty café was tranquil save for the scratching of your pencil as you scribbled on your sketchbook. Saiki sat across from you, paying you no attention just as you did to him. His usual stoic expression was abandoned as he blissfully devoured his coffee jelly.
“I have a dream. After high school, I’ll travel around the world for a bit. I’ll join a bunch of art competitions and win a bunch of awards. Then eventually, I’ll go to an art school in New York so I can major in Illustration. And maybe I might even make a best-seller manga one day,” you mused.
‘Isn’t it a little too early for us to think about the future?’ Saiki retorted.
“Maybe. But I’ve had this dream for as long as I can remember.”
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Art class was the subject you looked forward to the most in school. Not only because you excelled in many art mediums, but also because you took pride in the techniques you honed over the years of endless practice.
For the day’s lesson, you were to pair up with one person in the class and draw each other’s portraits. You casually looked around the room in search of anyone available.
From the corner of your eye, you noticed Kokomi rushing up to Saiki with an excited smile as she called out, “Saiki, do you want to-” a majority of the boys in class crowded around her before she could say her piece. Saiki walked up to you instead, asking if you wanted to pair up with him. 
You glanced briefly at Kokomi, feeling a tad bit guilty for stealing her choice of partner while she was being surrounded by her group of fans hoping that she would choose one of them. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reject the pink-haired boy’s request.
Taking a seat from across each other, you adjusted your easel so you could get a better view of Saiki’s face. Despite the red tint dusting your cheeks from the intimacy of his peering gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. You perceived for the first time that Saiki was actually quite good looking.
You looked down at your page so you could sketch his appearance: the antennae on his head, his green glasses, soft pink hair, slender neck, smooth lips, chiselled face, sharp eyes. You looked up to take a quick peek at him again. 
 The constant blinking on his impassive face made your eyes widen in amusement and you frantically placed a hand over your mouth to prevent a snort from escaping.
‘Why are you laughing?’
“Because you’re blinking so much that it looks ridiculous,” you explained with a chuckle.
‘I have to keep on blinking so my x-ray vision resets. I’m trying to get a look at your face.’
You let out another coy giggle despite the heat rushing to the tips of your ears. He looked down at his paper to continue his piece with a warm smile barely present on his face.
You concentrated on your own illustration, marking down his affectionate expression before Saiki could return to his blank face, and showing it off as soon as you finished.
‘Not bad. Now take a look at mine.’
He flipped his paper over, exhibiting an intricate and beautiful portrait. The focused expression he depicted on your face while you drew him looked so alluring. You almost didn’t recognize it as your own, even though it was practically a mirror image.
"This looks way too realistic for someone who's trying not to stand out."
'It should be fine if it's you.'
You didn't understand what he meant, but his words caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.
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‘I need your help,’ A familiar voice spoke in your mind.
You jumped in surprise at the unexpected appearance of the pink-haired boy you had grown fond of. Your sketchbook flew out of your lap, falling right at your feet.
“How did you know I was here?” You asked with a huff.
‘In case you forgot, I can hear your thoughts. I know that sometimes you like to come here to the school rooftop during lunch.’
“Oh,” you uttered. “Well, since you came all this way to see me, what can I do for you?” You raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
'I need you to help me reject Teruhashi.'
You pursed your lips in uncertainty.
"Kokomi is my friend, and as her friend, you can't expect me to hurt her feelings."
'As my friend, you can't expect me to lead her on when I don't ever intend on returning her feelings. She'll get hurt either way. All I'm asking is for you to help me avoid her so she'll get over me.’
You knew he was right, but you were still unsure of meddling in a situation you weren't a part of, especially when it involved the feelings of your close friend. You looked out the window in contemplation.
“Why are you asking me? Mikoto would be a better choice.”
‘I trust you more, so it has to be you.’
You ignored the churning in your stomach as you casually threw your hands up, giving in to his request.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
‘Thank you.’
Saiki bent down on one knee, reaching out to grab your fallen sketchbook. 
“I can pick that up myself, you know, or you if you wanted to help me that badly, you could’ve done that levitation thing you always do.”
‘I know.’
He held the book out, watching you through his glasses while he knelt by your feet. A saying Chiyo once told you a long time ago reverberated at the back of your mind: “Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince?”
You gripped the sketchbook in his hand. Saiki’s gaze burned on your orbs as your image reflected off his green lenses. Neither one of you let go, even when your fingertips brushed against one another.
“What colour are your eyes?” You wondered.
‘Violet.’
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“Major in Economics at Sayftee University and major in Literature at both Komman University and Ahvraj University,” you read out Saiki's school survey. “These are all surprisingly in character for you, but do you really have no dreams beyond living an ordinary life?”
‘I’m too busy thinking of ways to stop the volcano eruption to worry about my future.’
“You have a point there. Any luck with that?” you inquired.
Saiki shook his head.
“I guess that means we’ll be second years again.”
You didn’t keep track of how long time had been looping, and you found that you didn’t really care since you were already accustomed to the familiarity of your seemingly endless high school life. You were happy, even if it meant that the dreams you’ve been chasing for so long were slipping farther away from your grasp with every day that passed.
‘No, it’s about time I put an end to this.’
Saiki’s determined expression was embedded in your mind.
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Your screams of disbelief were muffled by the pillow you held against your face. 
You had vowed to yourself since you were young that you wouldn’t grow attached to anyone. After all these years, you had to go back on your word just when you were about to leave.
Now was not the time. Not here. Not with him.
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Kokomi and Chiyo took it upon themselves to pay you a visit after you skipped school for five days without notice. The dark circles under your eyes and your sunken face visibly worried them.
“I’m in love with Saiki,” you murmured, gazing sullenly at your blue-haired friend. “I’m sorry.”
Kokomi’s face fell, but she showed no signs of surprise.
“I already knew that. It was obvious with the way you always look at him,” she lamented. Kokomi cupped your balled fists in her hands and looked at you wistfully. “He rejected me a few days ago, so you don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I think you two would look good together.”
You felt tears threatening to spill over your eyes. Whether it was from relief that Kokomi accepted you so easily or pain from your unfortunate situation, you didn’t know.
“I’m leaving Japan after we graduate,” you disclosed.
A dejected silence fell upon you three until Chiyo spoke up, “For how long?”
“An indefinite amount of time.”
“Are you ever coming back?”
“I don’t know.”
Their glum faces only worsened your mood.
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“Why have you been avoiding me?”
You tensed at the accusing tone directed at you. Saiki’s piercing gaze was pointed at your shrinking figure.
No matter how much time had passed since the loss of his abilities, you doubted that you would ever get used to the sound of his voice resonating out loud, or the enchanting shade of his eyes, even if they looked dangerously menacing at the moment.
“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was just busy studying for exams and doing other stuff,” you explained weakly.
Saiki’s deadpan expression indicated that he didn’t believe your lie.
After a few minutes of squirming underneath his scrutinizing gaze, you gave in and told him your worries, “I’m leaving the country soon. I think we should stop talking to each other so that it won’t be so hard for us to say goodbye.”
You pushed past him. You didn’t know where your feet planned on dragging you, but you figured anywhere was fine so long as you could get away from him.
The familiar warmth of Saiki’s hand wrapped around your own, stopping you from taking another step away. You didn’t dare turn around as you felt your heart thumping wildly.
“I won’t ever ask this of anyone else, so I’m begging you not to push me away,” he pleaded. He placed your hand over his chest, giving away the heavy pulsing of his heartbeat.
You could never say no to him.
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Memories of the last few years ran through your mind as you smiled at the nostalgia. You took one final glance at your high school building before turning your back on it, striding towards the exit. 
You stopped at the sight of a familiar figure standing under the shade of a cherry blossom tree. Saiki must have known that you were staying much later after the graduation ceremony, all thanks to his restored powers.
‘Good grief. Were you really planning on leaving without saying goodbye?’ His voice resounded in your head.
You didn’t respond as you watched the wind blow through his hair, the sun illuminating the affectionate smile on his face, the violet obscured by his green glasses, and the petals dancing around the two of you as they fell to the ground. The timing was right. The mood was right. Everything was right.
He rubbed the back of your hand while you reached out to intertwine your fingers with his. The warmth that radiated off his skin felt like home.
He knew, and you knew that he did. After all, you could never hide your secrets from a psychic, no matter how hard you tried. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him how you felt.
“Goodbye,” you pulled away from Saiki.
What was the point of confessing your feelings to someone you would never see again?
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Paris, France was one of your destinations out of many. Most people romanticized the capital as the City of Love, but the only reason you were even there in the first place was to visit the Louvre, the world’s largest art museum. 
Influenced by the art and the romantic ambience, you sketched out the scenery around you, deliberating how you could embody the city on paper. If you were to draw a picture of love, what would you envision? 
Maybe, it would look like pink locks tousled by the spring breeze, or the reflection of your eyes searching for violet orbs through tinted green glass. It might have been the lingering warmth on the fingertips of someone who trusted you enough to share their deepest secret, or the gentle smile that was reserved only for you during the most intimate of moments.
Your love was constant and unchanging. You realized that now. No matter how much time had passed or how many countries you visited, you always found yourself thinking about home.
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Ever since you were a young student in junior high, you had hated the thought of giving up on your dreams to pursue a flighty, insignificant relationship. Six years ago, you threw away your chance at love to focus on your aspirations. There was no point in thinking back on what might have been. You shouldn’t have.
 You made a name for yourself through the many art competitions you joined, winning a few awards here and there. A while back, you finished your Bachelor's Degree in Illustration at a famous art school in New York. Things were coming together quite nicely.
Your high school days almost seemed like a lifetime ago. The memories that used to be the center of your universe, the laughter you shared with your friends, and a not so ordinary boy with psychic powers were at the back of your mind. Everyday life without the only person you've ever loved became the norm for you.
You recently got a job offer from a famous publishing company in Japan after you posted a short comic that blew up in popularity. The editor in chief sealed the deal with you after you sent him a promising draft for a manga you had planned out. 
It had been years since you’ve been to the country, but your return and the nostalgic surroundings brought back old recollections that made you feel like you were a teenager again.
The chief took it upon himself to give you a tour around the company, showing you the work environment and the employees. He guided you through the different floor levels, offices and workrooms, and acquainted you with the higher-ups. But he had yet to introduce the editor you would be working with.
"There he is."
The chief led you towards the figure of a man who had his back turned to you. The pink tuft of hair on his head and the silly-looking antennae shaped into joysticks poking out of his scalp were noticeably familiar. But you couldn’t believe it.
He turned around, green-tinted eyes boring into yours with the same neutral expression you used to see every day. Even when you had anticipated who it was, you couldn’t help the breathless gasp that escaped your lips.
"This is Saiki Kusuo. He will be the editor in charge of overseeing your work,” the chief introduced to you.
You took the hand Saiki held out for you, shaking it courteously. His blank expression didn’t fade, but his eyes softened under your gaze. The warmth on his grip was just as comforting as you remembered, like the welcoming embrace for a loved one returning home. 
Neither one of you let go.
"Well, since it's already after work hours, you guys should grab dinner and get to know each other. You'll be working closely for a while, after all," the chief suggested before leaving you and Saiki alone.
A hushed silence washed over both of you as the world disappeared before your sight. The image of a cherry blossom tree on a sunny spring day was evoked in your mind.
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He sat next to you in a secluded booth of the café you used to frequent, away from prying eyes. 
"What happened to majoring in Economics and Literature?" you asked.
Your body was angled in his direction while you engaged him in conversation. Despite the many years apart, you and Saiki had fallen back to the easygoing relationship you once shared.
'I finally had time to think about my future, and I realized that this is what I wanted.'
“You wanted to be a manga editor like your dad?” you prompted.
‘Not quite.’
Saiki was composed as usual as he turned to face you.
'I have a dream. After you accomplished your goals, we would find each other again and spend the rest of our lives together. And maybe we might even make a best-seller manga one day,’ he mused.
Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. The words you couldn’t bring yourself to say on the day of your graduation poured out unthinkingly from your throat.
“I love you.”
He placed a hand on the back of your neck, closing the distance between you.
‘I know.’
Your lips crashed into his, moulding perfectly as they moved against one another. You gripped his shoulders, pulling him in as he snuck an arm around your waist. Your eyelids fluttered shut, relishing in the sweet sensation of his taste.
You only pulled away minutes after to catch your breath. His forehead leaned against yours, the tip of your noses barely skimming each other. The look of adoration in his eyes revealed that he felt the same way.
No matter how long he waited, your love for each other was unchanging.
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heyheyloki · 4 years
Text
Better Than Him
Bakugo Katsuki x M!Reader
Requested? Yes.
Word Count: 2914
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When you first started UA, you didn’t have many friends. None of your friends from middle school had gotten accepted into the school, and none of them stuck around either. You didn’t have much of an need to go out of your way to make them, but you didn’t made making some if people approached you. That’s how this all began, because Mina Ashido decided that the handsome pretty boy of the class should be her friend. 
Mina was always took her time to go out of her way with you. Partnering up for classwork? She went with you. Needed a partner for hero work? Right by your side. 
She was a great friend, and she grew on you. It was just the two of you for a bit in the beginning of the year, that was until the Sports Festival happened. Both of you ended up bonding with Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari, and the infamous Bakugo Katsuki. 
Unlike your classmates, you didn’t have a problem with Bakugo’s constant rage and raised voice. You knew he wasn’t a bad guy, just someone who needed to prove himself. You didn’t believe it clicked within your classmates, but you didn’t feel like defending someone who didn’t need it. Besides, if you did, you thought you’d only offend him in the end. 
Overtime, you all became close friends. Your relationship with Mina grew and stabilized into best friends while your relationships with the others continues to grow.
“Yo, [Name].” You heard Kirishima call out, his desk behind yours. Still, he felt the need to stand next to your deck.
“Yeah?” You questioned.
“You got plans for the weekend? All of us are gonna go hang at Bakugo’s place.” Kirishima explained. For the first time in a while, you were surprised. It wasn’t like Bakugo to let people into his house, especially not his friends that he tries to deny he has.
“Really? And Bakugo is all cool with it?” You questioned, leaning your head forward to get a look at the blond at his desk.
“Don’t look at me! All these idiots invited themselves!” Bakugo yelled, his eyes locked onto yours.
For some reason, you believed him.
“C’mon!” You heard Mina’s voice. When you turned your head to the other side of your desk, she was there. Her palms planted on your desktop. “It’s not like you got anything better to do, right?”
“Woah, you think highly of yourself that you think you’re my only friend.” You teased, watching as she began to pout like a child.
“C’mon, man! Don’t be scared of Bakugo, it won’t be the same without you!” Kaminari suddenly butted in, his arm wrapping around your shoulders.
“What the hell makes you think I’m scared of him?” You growled. Seriously, out of all of them, you were the least scared of the guy.
“Cause you don’t come! Unless, you got something else to do?” Kaminari questioned, a coy grin coming to his features. “Maybe, a date?”
“Oh, my god! Really? Since when?” Mina shouted, her excitement growing.
You sighed, seriously, sometimes you think these guys have nothing else to do but bother you. You weren’t complaining necessarily, but you know that for some reason beyond you, that you complete their group. Maybe it was cause you could run your mouth to Bakugo without flinching, or perhaps you were just you and they loved that about you.
“It’s not a date.” You hummed out. Your hand coming up to remove Kaminari’s arm from your body. “I just already made plans with Midoriya. Sorry.”
You didn’t think they’d make a big deal out of it, especially since most were on good terms with the green haired fool that always seems to break his bones any chance he gets. Then again, you forgot that one person isn’t his biggest fan.
“Uh? Deku? Why the hell are you wasting your time with that nerd?” Bakugo suddenly called out, all eyes now on the group. Especially Bakugo and you.
When you looked at him, it was like a war was on the brink of starting. It wand uncommon for the both of you to argue here and there, so no one was worried necessarily, but something in your gaze made his blood run cold. He really didn’t take a liking to the way you looked at him, but instead of taking into account why, he just blamed it on your quirk.
The quirk you had was tricky in more ways than one. It distorted your personality at times, and the abilities that came along with one single quirk had some people jealous, envious of you. Maybe that’s what Bakugo liked about you, he knew that people were jealous of his stupidly-awesome quirk just like they were of yours. You had a commonality, and that made him see you as an equal. Though, as he got to know you, that quickly turned into respect.
“What? Jealous I’m hanging with him instead of you?” You asked in a snarky tone that made Bakugo almost pop a vein.
“Why the hell would I be jealous of that loser?” He yelled, his hand slamming down hard on his desk. Some of his classmates flinched at the noise, but you remained perfectly still. Continuing to give him that annoying look that he wanted to just wipe off your face.
“Don’t know,” you hummed. Your eyes still not removing themselves from Bakugo’s orbs. It was odd to you how this guy chooses to act this way in school but when he’s just hanging out with you, he’s the chillest guy you’d ever met. Though, that was only if it was just you and him. “But, I’ll be free another day. So don’t go missing me too much.”
“Like I’d ever miss you, idiot!” He screamed out once more in retaliation.
You just smiled to yourself before class shortly after started. You wish you could go, but you’re a man of your word and promised Midoriya you’d help him out. Besides, if you weren’t loyal, what else did you have left? Your quirk made it quite difficult to be anything else.
When that weekend passed, Bakugo tried to ask you to hang out with him. There was a carnival in town and he didn’t want to go with the others unless you were there. Sadly, you had to decline again.
“Sorry, Bakugo, I already made plans with Midoriya.” You told him with an apologetic smile. “Maybe next week.”
He did try again next week. It wasn’t like he wanted to, in fact, he felt pathetic doing this for weeks on end and you always rejecting him. It was just easier to deal with the chaotic antics of the others with you around. It wasn’t like he enjoyed you being around, no, not at all.
It didn’t help when everyone else started to talk about you while they all hanged out.
“Man!” Kaminari whined. “When is [Name] gonna come back and hang with us?”
“Not sure, but he’s been hanging around Midoriya a lot more lately.” Mina expressed, her eyes wondering up at the clear sky as they all walked around the park.
“Yeah, now that you mention it, those two have been getting really close, right?” Kirishima questioned. “I mean, he never really talked to him until recently. Makes ya wonder what they’re doing.”
It would be a lie to say that didn’t irk Bakugo. Did you think Deke was better than him? That couldn’t possibly be it, right? After all, he was better. He was your friend first before Deku, so why did you prefer that guy over him?
“I don’t know about [Name] but did you hear about Midoriya?” Sero suddenly asked.
Bakugo made up this mask that he wasn’t interested in this conversation whatever, but when he heard that, his ears perked up. He was never one for gossip, hell, he hated it. But for some reason when it came to you, it felt like he needed to know. Especially if Deku had a part in it.
“No, what happened?” Kaminari questioned, the others on edge.
“I overheard Uraraka talk with Iida about how Midoriya was suddenly acting weird whenever [Name] was around.” Sero started out saying. All of them at the edge of their seats, begging him to just spit it out already. “When Uraraka confronted him, Midoriya said that he was starting to like him! Can you believe that?”
“Seriously?” Mina suddenly shouted with a wide smile and somewhat flushed cheeks.
While everyone stood with shocked expressions across their features, they all asked the same questions. Did you like him as well? Is that why you wouldn’t hang with them?
Though, for Bakugo, it was a little difficult. Unlike everyone else he felt something he hasn’t in a while. He knew he had a short fuse and could be angered easily, but when he heard that it was like something twisted in his chest. It was painful, and made questions run about his mind.
The thing was, Bakugo wasn’t dumb. He cursed himself out in his mind. It wasn’t ‘hero’ behavior, he felt like a loser. He hated that. It was such a petty emotion that ran through his veins. Pure, petty jealousy.
It wasn’t until a few days later that Bakugo saw you. It was in the morning, just before class started up. Everyone was chatting with friends before they had to deal with a grumpy Aizawa in the morning.
When Bakugo walked in, his sight immediately locked onto you. You were in his seat, your body turned to face Midoriya who sat behind the spiky haired blond. You had your elbow on Midoriya’s desk, your head rested in the palm of your hand with a bright smile on your features. It was like when you smiled, in Bakugo’s eyes, you glowed. It was odd to him the first couple of times, but he started to enjoy it. It was like his own secret that no one had the privilege of seeing besides him.
“So, [Name], um,” Midoriya started to mumbled, his fingers now fidging each other. His gaze towards his desk, dancing around as he spoke but not meeting yours for a second.
“What’s up?” You questioned, wondering what he was so worried for.
“I was, uh, wonder if maybe I could draw you?” He asked in a shy tone. Though, once his eyes met yours he immediately shot his hands up and shook them before blurting out, “I mean, only if you want to!”
You stared at him for a moment. It was odd to you how this was the most difficult thing for him to ask when he’s asked you so much things over the past couple of weeks. “Sure, I don’t mind. But, make sure you get my good side.”
Midoriya chuckled. “I’ll try.”
You nodded with a smile, trying out some poses before your eyes got drawn towards the window. Rain was falling and it never ceased to capture your attention in an instant. Though, today your little show would be interrupted.
As you watched some teachers and students scramble into the school from below, your attention was quickly drawn to whoever nudged you in the back of the head. You knew there wasn’t any malice behind it, but instead just to grab your attention.
When you turned your head your eyes went up to Bakugo’s face. It was calm, and something about it was peaceful to you. His red hues were shining with something you didn’t recognize, but, for some reason, you were just happy to have it directed onto you.
“Good morning, Bakugo.” You said with a soft smile. “How was your weekend?”
“It was whatever.” Bakugo hummed. His eyes never moving anywhere else besides you. “Spiky thought it would be a fun idea to do a picnic.”
“Oh, that sounds fun. Wish I could’ve been there,” you hummed in a sweet tone. Although, before Bakugo had time to respond to your words, you let an soft hum leave your throat before saying, “By the way, I’ll be free today if you wanna hang out and catch up.”
For the first time, Bakugo’s gaze shifted to Midoriya. His calm eyes grew irritated, narrowing on the green haired teen.
You heard Midoriya yelp suddenly, but you didn’t find that any different from any other day before. When Bakugo turned back to you though he said, “Whatever, idiot. Just don’t make a mess while you’re over my house.”
You smiled, your legs bending straight as you stood from his desk. You were a few inches from him when you did, neither of you looking to back up. It was then that your innocent smile turned into a sly grin before brushing your shoulder with Bakugo as you moved back to your seat, completely missing the soft red that popped up on the tips of his ears.
After school Bakugo and you headed out without a word to your other classmates or friends. You made conversation here and there about whatever you could think about, just basically throwing your thoughts at him. It wasn’t until you both came out of the heated building and feel a chill run up your spine. It was days like these were you wish you had some fire or some kind of heat quirk like Bakugo and Todoroki have. 
“Shit, it’s freezing.” You grumbled as you hugged yourself from warmth, your teeth beginning to chatter. While it was cold, you did enjoy Bakugo’s heat that helped you at least tolerate this bullshit. Though, when he suddenly stopped as you continued to walk, it didn’t take long for you to notice.
When you turned you noticed him digging around in his bag. You leaned your head to the side, confused on what he was doing. You took a step forward, your lips parting as you were about to let words slip past them. Before you had the chance though, you felt something warm wrap around you. 
“Don’t freeze to death, idiot.” Bakugo said before continuing to walk.
Your eyes quickly shot down to see a scarf loosely wrapped around your neck. The gesture itself shouldn’t be anything to gush over, it was a kind thing that anyone would do. Though, for some reason, when Bakugo did it it felt like your entire body was now suddenly warm. 
When both of you arrived at Bakugo’s place since it was closer to the school than yours, you noticed his parents weren’t home. It didn’t bother you since this wasn’t the first time you’ve been over without them around. But you did find it odd that Bakugo just dropped his thinks and started to travel to his room. Normally you both would grab some drinks and snacks to chill with while you hanged out, but that didn’t happen. You decided not to question him and just followed behind him silently.
You believed nothing was wrong, but when you saw him sitting at the edge of his bed with his head down, you knew you were wrong. 
You sighed, leaning against the door frame you asked, “Alright, what’s wrong with you?”
Bakugo’s eyes locked on you. It would have scared you, but it wasn’t the first time he looked at you like that. 
“Do you like Deku more than me or something?” He suddenly questioned, his voice prickled with thorns. One wrong move, and you knew you wouldn’t recover. 
You leaned your head. “Bakugo, really?”
“Do I look like I’m joking to you, idiot?”
No, he didn’t, but you wish he was. It wasn’t like you were keeping a secret from him, but it was a pain in the ass to explain. 
You sighed, your hands dug in your pockets before walking up next to Bakugo. You took a second before sitting down next to him, making sure he wouldn’t deny you. The moment you sat down you said, “Midoriya is cool and all, but just because I’ve been hanging out with him doesn’t mean that I think he’s cooler than you or something.”
Bakugo raised his head an inch. Side-eyeing you he growled, “Then why the hell are you blowing me off, huh? If you wanna hang out with that nerd so bad than just do it!”
You didn’t make any moves, nor did you try and make any snarky comments. It was hard to hold in instinct, but for him you could do it. 
“I wasn’t trying to blow you off, okay?” You hummed out in the kindest voice you could muster up. “Midoriya asked me if it would be okay to get some information about my quirk for this hero journal he’s been keeping. I said yes, and it just happened to take longer than I thought.”
The blond next to you went quiet, you knew he probably felt silly or like a ‘loser’ but you didn’t think that about him at all. Not in the slightest. 
With a single motion, your shoulder moved over to Bakugos’. You didn’t move, nor try to. Instead, you took in a pleasant breath of air as you relaxed into him. It’s been weeks since you could last do this, and you missed it. He would never allow you to in public or with your other friends, which, you understood and respected. So, it was really--really--nice now that you could.
“Yanno, you didn’t have to get jealous, Suki.” You cooed out. 
You thought he would flip out on you. He really did hate when you called him that in private, but today, he didn’t. When you felt him move, it wasn’t like you remembered before he flips out. So, you moved your head an inch to see what he had done. A large smile growing on your lips when you noticed his head turned away from you, unable to see his face. But, you did hear him when he said, “Shut up, idiot.”
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andshedoesitagain · 4 years
Text
Warm me up
Fred Weasley x Reader                                                              Words - 1.4k
Summary - You have a nightmare and Fred is happy to help you out.
Warnings - Making out, mention of panic and nightmares, Innuendo’s, kissing. 
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Air. That’s what you needed, desperately, achingly, so much so that you clung to your chest, shooting up from your pillow as you inhaled rapidly, trying to swallow all the air in the room. 
Nightmares were nothing new to you, all that you had seen and experienced over the years since attending Hogwarts had worn you out dramatically, and bad dreams just so happened to be one of many side effects of that. Even following you when you weren’t even in the school.
Rubbing the weariness from your eyes, you scanned the room around you, the familiarity and cosiness of the room already beginning to ease the tension that had been building in your chest while you were sleeping. 
The Weasley home was your favourite place to be, it provided you a home during all holiday and breaks away from Hogwarts and served as the perfect place to calm down after the pure chaos of the school year. The eccentric redheads had never treated you as any less than another member of the family, from the moment that you had first turned up on their doorstop practically attached at the hip with Fred and George.
Although your bond with one of the twins was much different than with the other. Fred had never been quiet about his feelings for you, always flirting and teasing, though it had never evolved into much more than a coy back and forth between the two of you, and although you weren’t completely content in that, you never forced anything, happy just to be around him. 
Well, that was until he had out of the blue decided to kiss you just hours earlier.
  Poking him with your elbow, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as he continued to nudge you, in effort to see himself in the mirror you were currently using to brush your teeth. “Fred, I’ll be done in just a second, then you can stare at yourself for as long as you want to,” you quipped taking the toothbrush out your mouth. 
“I’ll have aged ten years by the time you’re done,” he replied with a grin as he bumped you away once again with his hip, not even bothering to remove the toothbrush from his mouth. 
You fought for a little longer for use of the mirror, before you gave up, spitting into the sink and placing your toothbrush down, sitting down on the edge of the tub and crossing your arms across your chest, silently waiting for him to finish.  
Looking up to his reflection you caught him looking back to you, sending you a wink as you caught his gaze. Sticking your tongue out in response, he let out a quiet chuckle before speaking. “I really like your t-shirt, very fashionable.”
Raising an eyebrow, you looked down to the shirt you were wearing, quickly realising it was one of many you had ‘borrowed’ from him, building a small collection over the years of staying at the Weasley’s. “I’m glad you like it, it’s a little oversized but it’s cute right?” you queried, a grin dancing on your lips as you glanced back up at him.  
For a split second you could swear you caught a slight blush on his face, but as he leant down to spit in the sink, you just missed it. Taking that as your queue you went to stand up, heading for the doorway until you were swiftly pulled back, a quick peck placed on your lips and a hand gently grabbing your t-shirt. 
Your eyes wide, Fred pulled back from you and nodded, examining you up and down as he mumbled, his own grin wide, “yeah, it looks really good on you.” 
Pulling yourself to your feet, you tried not to shiver as the cold hit you. With the Weasley house being practically full to the brim, you had opted to sleep on the couch in the living room on your own, although it didn’t stop you from tiptoeing out of the room to the kitchen, trying to be as silent as possible in fear of waking up anybody else in the house. 
Pouring yourself a glass of water, you sipped it down quick, the cool feeling down your throat further grounding you from your previous panic. Again, tiptoeing back to the living room, you felt your heart jump into your throat as a figure stood in the middle of the room. 
Cutting off your gasp, a familiar voice spoke, “it’s just me, it’s Fred.” The ginger haired boy stood closer, revealing his face. Exhaling slowly, you ran a hand through your hair.
“You scared me.” Your voice was breathy as you practically croaked out your words, causing Fred to let out a nervous chuckle.
“Sorry, what are you doing up?” He enquired, eyes following you as you plopped yourself back on to the couch, bringing your knees to your chest.
Pulling your blanket back over you, you scooted over slightly to make room for him as he sat closely next to you. “I had a nightmare,” laying your head against the couch to look at him better, you noticed how his face scrunched up a little.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Also laying his head against the back of his couch, sincerity dripped from his voice even as his tone was light.
Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but lean in a little closer to him, a reaction that had become normal to you over the years you had known him. “No, you being here helps though,” finding yourself whispering you sent a soft smile his way, one he had no hesitation in returning. 
“Glad I can be of help,” he whispered back, the usually mischievous look in his eyes swapped for a slightly rarer warm-hearted expression. Reaching out your hand you intertwined fingers with him, you took a breath.
Flattening out your palm in his hand, he looked at you with a tired smile, “close your eyes,” he whispered. A small chuckle of confusion passed your lips as you slowly let them flutter closed, not questioning what the redhead had planned.
Lightly you felt his fingertip drag over your hand, delicately drawing random shapes, “I’ll draw something on your hand, and you guess what it is, okay?” Fred asked, to which you nodded, eyes still firmly shut.  
The first few shapes were easy, circles, squares triangles, before eventually they got a little more niche and harder to guess. Giggling as you played his game, you continued to try and guess his newest shape. “Is it…. a bird?” 
Hearing a scoff followed by, “good guess, but no,” opening up your eyes you listened, “it was a snitch, but I’ll excuse how terrible you were at the game, because you’re tired.” Rolling your eyes at him, you blinked through the darkness to get a better look at his face, something he seemed to catch on to. “Checking me out, Y/N?” He teased.
Instead of answering, you just took a sharp breath. Trying not to overthink it you practically threw yourself on to him, your lips meeting his as you once again closed your eyes. Fred was quick, almost like he had been anticipating it, as he kissed you back confidently.
Without hesitation, his hand ran up your spine to the back of your head, his hand in your hair, as he sat up to deepen the kiss. Cupping his face in your hands, you tried not to chuckle in surprise when he slowly pulled you into his lap, the kiss calm and tender, despite your closeness.
Moving your hands to his shoulders, one of his hands went to push your hair behind your ear, the other just barely grazing your thigh. Heart pounding in your ears you grasped onto his shirt, before sliding your hands to his neck.
It was like all anticipation that had built to this moment had burst, everything hot and impatient. One of his hands had landed just below your t-shirt, causing you to jump slightly, “your hands are freezing,” you mumbled against his lips, which only made him press his fingertips a little harder against your hip, sneaking a grin even as you kissed.
“You can warm me up then,” Fred mumbled back, pulling back to look at him, you noticed how flushed he had become, lips and cheeks red. “Looks like you did that all yourself,” you quipped back.
Letting out a soft laugh, he drew circles into your hip, he stared up at you, eyes wide and dazed, “guess you just do that to me, Y/N.”
///Hey! After my last Fred Weasley x Reader did so well, I was really excited to get this one out that I’ve had sitting for a little while, so I hope you enjoy, and as always feel free to request!!///
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ddarker-dreams · 4 years
Text
Do Well. Yan Dabi x Reader [COMM]
warnings: dabi is just a huge asshole, emotional manipulation, implied panic attack word count: 2.6k.
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“Would you be a dear and wait here for a few? I need to take a call.” 
Dabi tilts his head alongside his words, glints of amusement present in his sapphire eyes. You’re certain the bastard picks up on every subconscious movement your body makes at the question, feeling like an open book before him. Despite your valiant efforts, human biology doesn’t operate in your personal interest. The challenging premonition causes your lips to curl down, fingers twitching on the wide straw of your milk tea. Pausing mid sip, you pull back, eyelashes fluttering. It’s the subservient behavior he wants to see, and considering the alternatives, you’re tripping over yourself to give it to him.
“... Of course. I should just stay here, right?” It’s more of a question posed for your sake than his, information vital to keep your head above water. Any movements on your behalf that even hint at disobedience could lead to dire consequences, ranging in severity. The worst of which is being confined back to his dingy apartment, with nothing but your thoughts to entertain yourself. All the faux smiles, carefully timed giggles, and strategic brushes of skin against skin would be for naught. You worked too hard for these trips outside for it to fall through your fingers like sand. 
Your captor makes a point of giving you a once over, lackadaisical visage a front for a predator in waiting. Condensation builds up against the plastic container in hand, making it tricky to tell if it’s your hands growing clammy or the drink. Time passes by at a snail’s pace, neither of you making the slightest of movements. People go about their lives in happy-go-lucky bliss, none the wiser to the potential harm that Dabi poses. Feeling finally returns to your body as he stands, seemingly content with the exchange.
He shoots you a coy look over his shoulder, a crooked smile spreading across his face. “Don’t miss me too much.” 
Dabi snickers at how your nose scrunches up, waving and slinking off with his phone in hand. You watch his retreating figure, still in disbelief over the unfolding events. This would be the first time since being kidnapped that you’ve been on your own in public. These special little outings were a privilege, one that you had worked diligently for. Consistently being on your best behavior, day after day, in the presence of someone you abhor from the depths of your soul is no easy task. A rush of adrenaline shoots through your body when he’s out of sight, eyes darting around in excitement.
This is a prime location to make an escape, the outdoors of a crowded mall in the afternoon. Everyone ranging from families, to couples, and employees on their lunch break are walking around. Lively chatter fills your ears, and you observe every possibility as if it’s your last. While it’s likely a futile dream, the rush your quickening pulse brings demands attention. Lithe fingers shake by your side, every ounce of your strength devoted to keeping yourself from unraveling at the mere concept of being free. He has to be watching. You know him well enough that he wouldn’t have offered the opportunity to escape on a silver platter, there’s got to be measures in place. 
There’s no way he isn’t keeping an eye on you now, making sure that you hold true to your word of behaving. 
Your shoulders slump at this cruel reality. The act of looking around excitedly would be too much of a give away, an observation he’d surely bring up later. An eruption of goosebumps dot your skin, even in the sweltering summer heat. Taking another sip of your drink, you abandon hope of escape, certain it’d be a mistake should you try it. Though he’s purposefully kept you in the dark on most of his relationships with the League of Villains, you can safely assume he’s interconnected with enough unsavory figures to locate you should it be necessary. In contrast to the sugary goodness that coats your tongue, a sour taste in your mouth develops at this blatant flaunting of power. What an asshole. 
To be so self-assured that even in the event of your escape, hunting you down and bringing you back into his loving arms is still within the realm of possibility. Your eye twitches at this realization, mentally flinging numerous curses towards him. He didn’t have to make it so obvious, rubbing salt on the theoretical wound of your pride. Too preoccupied with festering thoughts of resentment, you fail to notice a figure taking a seat next to you on the bench. 
“Is the drink not good or something?” A light, masculine voice asks from your left. Darting around immediately at the interruption of your venomous thoughts, you spot a man around your age. Sporting messy brunette hair and a casual get up of a tee with a pair of jeans, it tugs painfully on your heart to see someone living an uninhibited life as you used to. This envy mutates into horror, as you realize being caught speaking to a stranger is going to land you in boiling water. Dabi’s consciousness is a minefield in waiting, daring to blow at the slightest wrong movement. 
What do you do? It might leave a wrong impression should you not say anything. The current times are plagued by high tension.  Numerous League of Villain attacks have rendered the surrounding regions on constant alert, news anchors telling folks to be wary of anyone or anything suspicious. Weighing your options, you decide to dismiss the stranger in kind as fast as humanly possible. 
Just act natural, act natural… “W-why do you say that?” 
Shit. Your first conversation with someone other than Dabi in over half a year has left you thoroughly horrified, pupils no doubt dilated and voice meeker than a mouse squeak. The stutter has you wincing, your naive companion undoubtedly picking up on it. You want nothing more than to shoo him off, but in fear of drawing unwanted attention, attempt to suppress your frayed nerves. You’ve been through worse than a strained conversation and made it out relatively unscatched, but this feels like a different type of battle. 
“You just seemed to be making quite the upset face,” he chuckles, reminiscing on the thought. He must’ve been referring to the glowering thinking about Dabi brought out from you. “I swear I’m not a creep or anything. I was just waiting to pick up my little sister, and happened to catch you scowling.” 
“The name’s Ryota. And you?” 
Suppressing panic that threatens to drown you, you swallow thickly. “I’m uh, Hina. The drink is fine… I just have a lot on my mind.” 
The lie is seasoned with enough truths that you hope it isn’t too transparent. Giving away your actual name could hint back to missing person’s cases, the thought of which would greatly displease Dabi. Besides, if it had been as simple as going to the police, you would’ve done it by now. You’ve grown uncomfortably familiar with Dabi’s workings, killing off a few people or bribing them would be one of the least heinous things in his portfolio. You figure the best case scenario here is that this well meaning Ryota character leaves you be, or else dire consequences will come to fruition. 
“Good to know, Hina-san. My lil sis talks about boba often, but I’ve never gotten that into it. I figure since the store’s right here, I should surprise her with a drink. What would you recommend?” 
You can’t help but greedily soak in the normalcy an interaction like this brings with it. The irritation from being drawn into a conversation is replaced with pity, a stronger resolve to keep this bystander out of harm’s way blooming. There’s no time to be wasted on the warmth erupting in your chest, or on the first genuine smiles in months that’s settled on your lips. To see the best humanity has to offer, after being subjected to the worst, is a much needed breath of fresh air. While it may be greedy to fixate on these aspects, you find yourself wanting to savor the moment of being a regular person. 
Surely, Dabi would understand your logic. 
“It depends on her tastes. If she likes sweeter drinks, I’d recommend Thai milk tea. If you’re not sure, classic milk tea is always a safe bet.” You’re proud of how you’ve been able to pull yourself together, speaking like you used to. With this, he should be set to leave, or at least you want to believe this. Unfortunately for you, life is never so easy. He doesn’t seem interested in going anywhere anytime soon, crossing his legs and leaning slightly closer to you. Realizing your mistake of radiating friendliness, your muscles go taut. 
You need to do something about this before it’s too late. 
Ryota scratches his head, mulling over your advice. “I’ll keep all that in mind. I appreciate your insight.” 
“It feels nice to be able to chill and talk like this every now and then. If I’m being honest, I was somewhat against my sister coming out to hang with friends,” Ryota’s tone takes a turn for the somber, face looking crestfallen. “With all the chaos that’s been around, y’know. It feels like everyday I wake up to more of those League of Villain stories. It feels like it’ll just be a matter of time until something happens near here.” 
“I’m sorry that--” 
“Things sure are rough,” A voice that brings out every negative emotion possible speaks up from behind you, Dabi’s familiar figure slithering into sight. He takes a seat on the bench, close to your person, wrapping a tight arm around your shoulder. “I hate to interrupt, but I need to borrow her for a bit. You mind?” 
Neither of you were expecting the sudden interruption, Ryota trying to piece everything together. “Oh, uh, not at all.’
Everything hits you like a ton of bricks. From Dabi’s rich cologne that mixes in with the smell of ash, his hair brushing against the side of your face, to the possessiveness of his grip. He squeezes your shoulder, looking from Ryota to you. It takes a moment to register what he’s communicating, but you’re able to decipher the gesture. In a last ditch attempt to salvage this situation, you confirm Dabi’s statement before things get ugly. Nodding your head, you watch with bated breath as Ryota looks from Dabi to you. He gets up from his spot on the bench, awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets.
“It was nice talking to you.” 
Ryota heads off towards the mall doors, leaving you in the clutches of the devil incarnate. You feel how terribly warm Dabi is next to you, words wanting to spill out to justify the actions that led up to this moment. Before you get the opportunity to ramble out your thoughts, Dabi places a finger on your lips, looking at you with the same grin as always.
“Making some new friends, hm?” He inquires, drawing out the syllables. His finger goes south, lifting up your chin, and holding you close to his face. “Awe, babe. You look like you’re aboutta cry. Don’t give me that look.” 
You’re not sure if you should feel horrified at his sudden spike in talkativeness, or relieved over not having to speak your piece yet. The words wouldn’t be able to leave your mouth even if you wanted them to, a lump forming in your throat to coincide the dryness of your tongue. Dabi makes a point of emphasizing his engulfing height, having to tilt your head up to maintain eye contact. Not wanting to make a scene, you do everything within your power to still the tears that are threatening to spill out. There’s no visible signs of wrath, not that you can pick up on. He watches with great interest as you calm yourself, releasing the grip on your face and leaning back into the bench. 
When you appear sufficiently soothed, he speaks up once more, voice grating your ears. “So tell me, doll. What was all that about? I knew you’d be hurting for company in my absence, but I didn’t think you’d be so bold as to speak to someone else.” 
“I… I was approached, and… I swear, nothing happened. He just-- just wanted to know about a drink for his sister, and--” 
Dabi gently flicks your forehead, unable to stifle his cackling any longer. “I’m just messin’ with ya. I saw everything.” 
It doesn’t settle in immediately, the hypothetical cogs and gears of your head turning in slow motion. Your heart is pounding so violently that you hear it in your ears, your face erupting into a bright red. Humiliation, indignation, and finally, loathing take turns dominating your mind. He’s always had the best of times playing with you at your own expense, poking and prodding to see what reactions he can get. There’s a knee jerk reaction to want to slap him, anything to let out these overflowing feelings. Knowing that getting bothered is what he finds the most pleasure in, you’re further motivated to gain control over yourself. 
A deep breath. Inhale, exhale. You continue repeating these steps, biting your tongue to the point it stings. Dabi rests his head on his fist, watching you calm yourself down through lidded eyes. You really do get yourself worked up so easily, it’s endearing. He wants to pinch your cheeks and tease you more, but is feeling generous enough to give you this time to gather yourself. There’ll be plenty of time to play with you later, occupying himself with this cute sight placates him for the time being. When you finally reopen your eyes, you’re met with the deplorable sight of Dabi’s crooked grin. 
“Can we just… go home? Please?” You hate how weak your voice sounds. You hate everything about this situation, about the life that you’ve been forced into living. How you have to adapt to unspoken rules, subjected to twists and turns that never let you lower your guard. Most of all, you hate the person who has done this to you. His touch, his scent, his voice, all of it. You want nothing more than to scream at him at the top of your lengths, ripping that satisfied looking off his flesh and ridding yourself of this turmoil once and for all.
“Hm? Already? I thought you were hoping to get some dinner out tonight.” Dabi keeps up an air of nonchalance, likely wanting to hear you repeat yourself. Not willing to give in outright, you instead bunch up the fabric of his jacket with your hand. 
“Dabi…” 
It’s a low plea. You know you’ve gotten your point across ages ago, but he’s deriving too much pleasure from seeing how you squirm. The painful utterance serves you well, earning the slightest bit of reprieve as he gets up. On shaky legs, you follow after him, head downcast. Fixating on the tops of your shoes, you wonder if distracting yourself might do anything to ease your tormented soul. The events of the day have left you thoroughly exhausting, and nothing sounds better to you than sleeping for as long as he’ll allow you.
“Alright, alright. Let’s head on back,” he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. No longer having strength to muster up in retaliation, you let him do as he pleases, still fighting down sniffles. “Don’t bother your pretty little head about this.” 
You don’t bother honoring him with a reaction. 
Dabi takes a final glance over his shoulder, spotting the pesky man from before, who is still waiting against a wall. He takes a mental picture of the notable features, lips settling into a deep frown. How troublesome. Before you notice anything, he picks up his pace, continuing the walk back to his apartment. Ideas and resentment swirl within his mind like a tornado, pent up frustration begging to be released. 
All in due time, he thinks.
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sweetestlamb · 3 years
Text
Can You Feel The Love Tonight?
Summary: So-Bong stops fighting their attraction following the King's deception.
Author's note: I'm back and so excited to write a consensual steamy night! This continues from Episode 14 👀👀 enjoy my fellow royal pervs. Thank you to everyone who send me good vibes and positivity after Tumblr decided to wake up and choose violence and delete my first draft. I hope you all enjoy this version too you never saw the other version but I was feeling very good about it and this one just isn’t it so I’m being pretty hard on myself. Comments are always loved and appreciated especially in these trying times LOL. More possibly confusing pronouns but I did write from the King’s POV towards the end so the pronouns stop being too crazy. 
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His breath stumbles out in choked tight puffs, saturated air squeezed from So-young's tired lungs. He feels restless, pacing the short distance of the room before he jumps at the door suddenly sliding open. Affection too strong to temper down washes over their body in a thunderous tsunami wave that crashes all his doubts and hesitations about his feelings for a particular monarch. 
"My Queen." The title is stated with all the awe and reverence befitting royalty and before he can second guess himself, he's flying across the room to pull Cheoljong into a tight embrace. The King’s gasp of shock doing little to stop him from holding on tightly, pressing So-yong's face into the thick cord of the King's neck.
"Thank you. Thank you so much. I thought she was dead. I really thought you let her die!" Their voice sounds shrill even to Bong Hwan's ears but he can't deny that his emotions are overwhelming, too close to the surface. Still too raw after the heartbreaking ordeal, how dare those bastards even suggest killing a child?
It's not until the King is drawing away, his dark eyes searching her face before his fingers reach up to brush away the tears that are streaming from her eyes. Bong-Hwan feels a tinge of shame in his stomach, embarrassed to be seen this way by anyone but especially the King, but the soft way he holds their cheeks eviscerates all shame.
"I didn't have any time to tell you my plan, I'm sorry I scared you. I would never let anything happen to her, she was just an innocent child and she saved you. I owe her a huge debt."
He allows the King to drag her shaking body further into the room, sitting on the plush bedding, face to face their hands tangled in between.
Listening carefully as he tells them how he placed harmless sleeping powder in the child's cup and in the darkness of night his brother would collect her body and bring her somewhere safe, no one else knew of the plan and would believe the young court maid to be dead.
All of the stress and guilt washes over him again and he breaks down, folding into So-yong's lap as hot tears cascade from her eyes drenching the night dress. The cries ravish her slight body until he's sobbing uncontrollably, finally realizing how heartless this Kingdom and almost everyone living in it was.
Except him.
He'd had no reason to save the young girl, had hardly known her and it did him no favors to spare her life. Yet, he did it because she asked him to. 
I'll do my best. 
"You kept your promise."
"My Queen?"
So-Bong lifts their head, moist eyes locked on the King's face reaching out to stroke his cheeks, trailing down to his strong jaw. The desire to kiss him surging through their veins.
"You said you would save her and you did. How can I thank you?" Gratitude coats each word as So-Bong crawls closer into the King's space, a breath apart now making his intentions apparent.
A slight blush spreads across the bridge of Cheoljong's nose, he looks beautiful in the dim candle light. Truly a sight to behold.
"You owe me nothing my Queen your gratitude is enough to warm my heart for days to come."
But he wants to, this desire isn't So-yong; at least not her alone. He wants the King. There's no denying it now, not faced with his selfless act. Now remembering the way his heart stopped when the King flew off the stage, bloodied on the ground reaching out for them. How desperately he wanted to shove everyone aside and have the King in their arms again. 
Without preamble he grabs the lapel of the King's hanbok, reveling in the look of pure lust that devours his face before their lips crash into each other. He groans at the wet swipe of a tongue at So-yong's lips, opening up immediately to give the King entrance. When a large hand grips the back of her head, he moans deeply licking deeper into the King's mouth, heating scorching through their body like a wildfire.
"Don't get hurt again. Don't leave me." He pants into the King's hungry mouth, grabbing onto him desperately.
Cheoljong pulls away, lips bitten and red, panting now firm chest expanding and compressing.
"I won't. I'll stay with you."
In a move quicker than lightning, the King embraces them before covering her body on the bedding, begging for permission with those seductive eyes at So-Bong's nod he's ravenous, movements wild and disorienting. He tugs the material holding her sleep dress intact and the material falls away, but there are several layers beneath. He skillfully undoes everything, leaving her body bare to his eyes.
"So beautiful." He breathes out, eyes racing down her heaving chest before landing on her jewel, he reaches down to caress her smooth thighs causing goosebumps to raise in the wake.
Without a word he returns the favor, undressing the King with more fervor eager to reclaim the pleasure he'd denied just hours ago. The most pleasure he'd ever experienced in his life.
The King has a breathtaking body, broad shoulders that temper down into thick muscled legs but the thing that catches his eyes, dangles between the space of those marvelous legs. His third leg. It's hard to believe that was ever inside of them, it looks angry and red mushroom like head peeking through foreskin. Precum already oozing and coating the flesh in viscous liquid.
You're beautiful too.
He can't bring himself to say the words out loud, already feeling far too vulnerable.
Cheoljong moves to penetrate, gripping their legs as he crawls forward eyes locked on the prize. And the night comes back to him in a sudden flash, the pleasure had been immense but unfortunately so had the pain. There'd been no foreplay and her wetness had not been enough to thwart Cheoljong's impressive cock. It would be different tonight, it was time to teach their good husband about foreplay.
"Wait."
Instantly the King halts his movement, longing and question in his eyes. He is shaking from his rigid control.
In a move any porn star would be proud of, he brings her legs up locking onto the King’s hips and swiftly rolls them over until they’re on top.
The King gasps in surprise at the sudden reversal but the arousal in his eyes make it clear that he's still on board, the thick cock pressing into her thigh is even more proof.
Reaching back to unbraid her tight braid, he shakes her hair free smirking at the weak moan that falls from the King's lips.
"Like what you see?" He teases, bringing her hair over one shoulder and gazing at the King from under wispy eyelashes, a picture of coy seduction. Cheoljong groans at the action, reaching out to hold her hips and squeezing at the luscious flesh.
"Don't tease me."
He almost laughs at the soft command, having no intention of listening to such a thing.
With a gentle placating smile, he leans down to capture Cheoljong's lips in a peck that transforms into something deeper and wetter. Twisting the King's head to his liking, then groaning at the sensation. While the King's distracted he trails a dainty finger down his body, stopping to caress his hard pronounced abs the tight skin jumping under her fingers. Then he continues his journey until he reaches his destination, without any warning issued he wraps her hand around the King's sword firmly stroking from base to tip, twisting her hand to collect his juices to ease the way.
The King jerks as if he's been struck by lightning in her hold, breaking the kiss to grunt and thrust harder into the grip with a loud roar as animalistic as he'd been their first time. Watching him squirm in pleasure causes more moisture to gather at her center, memories of them thrusting and crashing into each other filling his mind.
"My Queen...what. What in the heavens are you doing to me?
"This is called a hand job. It is a gift a woman bestow upon a man.”
"Like a blessing?" He replies, looking thoroughly dazed as So-Bong continues to stroke and pull at his cock, copious amounts of precum making the motion effortless.
He chuckles at the King's understanding of the word, in many ways a handjob is a blessing.
With her unattended hand he reaches down to fondle the King's heavy balls, distracting him enough to slither down his firm body before he's eye level with the rigid length. Hungry for the burst of salt and skin that will flood her mouth, but still wary at this role reversal. He's received many blessings in his lifetime as a renowned chef he already ever wants for bedroom partners, women typically throwing themselves at him. But face to face with the one eyed beast, he falters tongue heavy in her mouth.
How did I.....do it?
He simply stares at first, at a long vein that cords up the side pumping blood to the thick organ.
Nerves immobilize him before the King finally looks down, helpless stare on his face his bottom lip slightly trembling. He gives a little hump up trying to alleviate some of the pressure and So-bong makes up his mind.
Just start slow. You've seen enough porn and anything feels good when you're horny.
So he starts with a kitten lick barely touching the throbbing organ, unprepared for the bitterness that explodes on his taste buds. It's a new flavor one he’s never experienced before but the King's reaction is enough to make him want to do it again, and again.
Cheoljong stills at first, as tight as the the quiver of an arrow before he breaks free from his stupor and thrusts so hard his cock slides down her throat almost choking them. He's draws off the King, thunderous glare at his appalling blowjob etiquette.
"This is called a blowjob. It's stage two of the hand job, but if you can't control yourself, then I'm stopping."
Immediate panic flares across the King's face and he falls limp on the bedding, staring up with pleading eyes. Looking thoroughly chastised and shamefaced.
"My apologies my Queen. I will accept your blessing. I place myself in your capable hands."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Nothing in his studies could have prepared him for this immense pleasure his Queen is bestowing on him, a serpentine tongue curling around his most private parts. Despite the various rumors of his prowess and the many times he's been accosted, both in his youth and during his time in the kingdom he's never indulged in the passions of the skin but now feeling this exquisite pleasure he wants to curse at himself, has this been what he's been depriving himself of?
He's been a fool of the highest caliber.
Another part of him is grateful that he's sharing this moment with her, he can't imagine sharing this intimacy with any other. Especially the many women at the brothels that he has frequented, preferring a willing partner.
In his laps his Queen is the devil incarnated, swallowing him in short bursts that leave his body feeling equal parts numb and bursting at the seams. Her kitten like licks at his head make his toes curl into the bedding, until pleasure flashes behind his eyelids so intensely he has to twists away before it's too late; barely escaping in time.
He pants loudly, harsh breaths rushing from his lips.
He jolts at the sudden warmth of her hands on his face, bringing his head back to meet her eyes.
She looks at him softly stroking at his cheeks almost.... lovingly. It's too much to consider. That the Queen could feel even an inch of what he feels for her. It's inconceivable.
"Did you like it?"
"Was that not clear? Where did you learn such sinful techniques?" He questions her but suddenly he doesn't want to hear the answer, not in the slightest. Maybe there's a reason why the head of the Justice Department is so obsessed with her, perhaps they had a relationship that was more intimate than he imagined. Maybe....
"Stop."
He stops looking back at her, trying to squash the jealousy boiling in his blood.
"Whatever you're thinking, stop. I've never had...that in my mouth. Or anywhere else for that matter. If it was good that was because of my natural talent. " She rolls her eyes at him, stern look as she crosses her arms across her tempting chest, ruddy dark nipples making his arousal deepen.
He breathes a sigh of relief and satisfaction, trying his best to keep those emotions off his countenance but her raised eyebrow makes it evident he has hidden nothing.
Slowly she crawls over him, straddling him face looming above his and he can't resist stealing a kiss, a burst of salt overcomes his senses and realization dawns on him.
That's me.
It shouldn't be that arousing to taste his own seed on her tongue but the thought of her tasting like him makes his blood boil hotter.
She lets him kiss her, her body soft in his arms as he rubs a hand up and down her side and he deepens their kiss, lips slotting together like matching pieces of an erotic puzzle.
When she pulls away he chases but a small hands on his chest halts the action.
He stares in awe at her beautiful flushed face, lips plush and inviting, the memory of them on his cock enough to make him groan.
"Do you want to make me feel good too?"
He's nodding before the question has fully left her pouty mouth and he immediately begins to position himself at her warm center, thrusting between the folds of her flower. Eager to be connected with her in the most natural way. But again his plan is halted as she shifts away after a quick moment of grinding back onto him.
He groans, "My Queen, what is the matter? I can't take this torturous teasing. You were hardly this coy last time."
His words are true, just yesterday he'd been shoved into the bed and ridden like a wild stallion, she'd sheathed him with no warning her grimace of pain enough to make him consider stopping before she grabbed his shoulders and arched her back in a manner that couldn't be human.
He'd been lost to the waves of pleasure after that.
"I was drunk out of my mind last time, I'd have let you do anything to me."
His eyes widen at the admittance, too many ideas flooding his mind.
"Stay with me, you sex maniac."
He's not quite sure but what a "sex maniac" is but he hardly believes that he's the only one here who is one. He hadn't been the one to seduce the other after all.
"Remember how I told you there are levels? You need to do that to me."
He stares blankly before finally understanding, running his hand from her hips down to the vee between her legs. Soft hair greets him before he pries between the puffy lips, stroking up through the moistness before pressing one finger inside, barely a knuckle but she's so wet that his finger sinks in easily, until he's deep inside her hole.
She breathes out softly, whining in his arms as if to take him deeper. He begins a languid pace, in and out, wanting to take his time and enjoy every second inside his Queen but she has other ideas.
"Another! Harder!"
She's already bouncing on his lap, all too easily accepting another finger, his middle finger now crying out at the stretch from two digits pounding into her core.
He's sure all the servants can hear their coupling, but it does nothing to discourage him as he grabs her hair pulling her in for a wet kiss needing to taste her moans, the vibrations tickling his mouth. His fingers are sloppy wet and their noises are indecent as she quickens their pace into something brutal. He doesn’t care if he keeps the entire kingdom up. 
Always a quick learner, he shoves her down into the bed lifting her legs like a scarf around his neck and after a quick moment of eye contact he dives down to taste her, tongue sliding through her wet pussy with precision and certainty. She wails underneath him, screaming his name loud enough to wake those even miles away. Pride swells in his chest as he licks deeper into her sweetness, using his hands to spread her wider much to her boisterous satisfaction.
He grins when he feels her hand latch onto his hair holding him in place as she uses him, grinding onto his tongue. He's never experienced anything this blissfully erotic, never knew a partner could be this eager. All of his studies have shown women to be rather passive, simply laying as the man gains his pleasure. His Queen his anything but a passive participant.
Before he knows it she's whimpering, twisting and twitching uncontrollably and when she starts to pull away he clamps down harder dragging her back and forcing his tongue impossibly deeper, when he slips in a finger everything is wet, her juices flooding his mouth and he happily drinks it all hungry for more.
He continues to suckle until she pushes him away, hissing at him when he fights her at first.
"Too much."
He gently moves her legs from his shoulder and places them back onto the bedding. She's spent below him, eyes closed and chest heaving powerfully.
He flops down beside her, in a manner completely unbefitting for a King. Not caring in the slightest.
Her breath begins to even out, slowing down and he smiles tightly it seems he'll have to tend to himself. With a sigh he reaches down to wrap a hand around himself but almost instantly his wrist is grabbed.
"What are you doing?"
He turns to face her, almost laughing out loud at the look of offense that mars her face.
"You're spent my Queen, I can care for myself."
She scoffs at him, taking a fortifying breath before sitting up, he watches her lazily awaiting her next move. At first, she merely stretches light popping as she raises her arms over her head. He watches enthralled by the rippling in her taut body, she is a magnificent woman and he's merely a man. Then in a move as fluid as water, she raises to her knees before sliding down onto her arms, then lower onto her forearms. Her body a perfect arch, with her pert bottom in the air.  For his position he can see directly into her wet core, he's moving before the action registers in his brain.
He's seen this before, the cow position but then she looks over her bare shoulder and smirks at him.
"Doggy style. You do all the work and you get a great view."
What an interesting moniker for this position but he can agree that this truly does resemble dogs mating as well. His knowledgeable Queen, he will surely have to add this to his dictionary. 
He walks forward on his knees towards her until his cock is nuzzled between the meat of her thighs, thrusting once making stars explode behind his eyes.
"I must get oil." He sadly states, despising the idea of being away from her heat for even a second but before he can move she's thrusting back onto him, the head of his cock sliding inside with little effort.
This time his moan fills the room.
"I don't need that. Can't you feel how wet I am? Just fuck me already, I know you want to."
"Fuck you?" More new words, these one sounds filthy despite not knowing the full meaning. 
She grinds backwards consuming him the rest of the way, "Yes. Fuck me until I can't walk straight."
He's never been one to back away from a challenge and at her insistence he slams into her, hard enough that she falls forward chest crashing into the floor as her ass raises higher in the air, giving him more access to her sweet wet entrance. He grips her ass pounding harder and harder before pulling her back to her arms. Leaning over her shoulder, he finds a bright red ear.
"Do you know who I am?"
He doesn't give her a moment to reply to his spontaneous question, instead rocking into her again mesmerized watching himself enter her over and over and over.
But after a moment he slows down, barely retreating just slowly grinding into her.
"Who am I?" He demands, bringing a hand around to fondle her breast pinching at the nipples.
"What are you talking about?" She pants out, impatiently trying to get him to return to the frantic borderline painful pace. 
He pinches harder.
"Do you know I am right now? Are you in full control of your faculties? Who is fucking you right now my Queen?"
It's unbecoming but a vindictive part of him needs this, desperately wants confirmation that she wants this and is imagining no other. After all their other misunderstandings he couldn’t stand another one. 
"You petty bastard!"
He pulls out. Completely. Leaving her empty, her hole twitching at the sudden departure. 
"Now, now. Is that anyway to speak to your husband? It's a simple question, who am I? Who do you belong to? "
Seconds drag on and he wonders if he's taken it too far, has he made this uncomfortable? Has he ruined this moment completely?
As fear ravages his mind, he doesn't notice his Queen grinding her teeth before sighing.
She whispers, "My King. You are my King and you are the only one I'm thinking of."
Elation swirls in his heart and he's back inside so quickly she loses her balance, tumbling onto her best again but he gives her no chance to rearrange herself pounding away now, shoving himself as deep as he can go.
He props his strong arms on either side of her thrusting and biting at her neck, marking her for the world to see. Her whimpers are music to his ears as he prays that every man in the kingdom will hear her, and now that she is his woman. No other can have her, ever. Unless they want to taste his blade. 
When her legs give out he rolls them onto their sides, never slowing his brutal place lifting one of toned legs to thrust even deeper. Then he feels her hand where they are joined, looking over he sees her rubbing frantically at a small engorged bead glistening above her hole. Knocking her hand away he begins to stroke the delicate pearl rapidly, grunting when her tunnel tightens around him.
She begins to scream, head thrown back as he chases the light blaring in his mind, the emphatic slamming of skin booming in the room until she bends her back arching away from him and he grabs her hips chasing her over the edge, pounding until he explodes inside her his shouts joining hers both deafening in the room.
Everything fades to black.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
He loathes to leave her alone after the night they've had but he must check on his brother and their plan to save the young court maid, so he slips from her enticing heat almost undone when she grumbles at his movement reaching out for him. Her little grabby hands reminiscent of a small child. 
Alas he must go. He's doing this for her after all. They will have much time to discuss later.
And if it leads to circumstances like these, he's not opposed.
By late morning he has dealt with everything necessary for the young girl, her body being transported to another town where they have created a fake identity for her. He knows his Queen will be sadden by the young girl's departure but this is the only way to keep her safe.
He's racing as quickly as he can to get back to her when he hears a voice behind him.
"Your majesty."
He stiffens immediately guilt riddles through him, the royal consort. He'd hoped to avoid her until he figured out exactly what to say to her, he'd yet to tell anyone but the Queen his true feelings for her. He didn't want to hurt the other woman but despite her many requests he would not be warming her bed. His heart was no longer his. 
Slipping on a passive mask, he turns around plastic façade in place.
"Royal Consort, good morning to you."
She immediately closes the gap between them and grasps his hand in her own, he fights the urge to flippantly brush her aside. He knows that would be unnecessarily cruel to do to a woman he'd once been willing to lay down his life for once upon a time. It feels like centuries ago. 
"I've missed you. You have been sleeping alone these days."
He hasn't. At all. He hasn't slept alone in days, the Queen's leg a permanent fixture in his back now but he can't tell her that of course.
But another voice sounds from behind him.
"He hasn't been sleeping alone. He just left my bed this morning."
This time he does pull his hands free of Hwa-Jin's tight grip, tighter with the Queen's arrival.
"My Queen." He turns to her apologetically fearing her wrath, imagining his own ire if he'd seen her in a similar predicament with her cousin.
But her eyes are locked on the other woman when he turns, cold eyes and a tight grin. Taking a step forward she stands between them, her back pressed intimately to his front.
Her scent fills his senses nearly making him sway. Sweet jasmine and...cooking oil? Somehow it smells like ambrosia on her skin, intoxicating.
"But I'd hardly say we did much sleeping. There are so many other.... activities. But you don't need to worry about his whereabouts, he is my King after all."
Before he can react to the blatant possessiveness or her jealousy, his hand is taken and he's being pulled away, he only gets to see the affronted look on Hwa-Jin's face for a second before she turns away with moist eyes.
He knows he must deal with this carefully later, but at the moment all he can think of is his arrogant and seemingly possessive Queen dragging him away, shooing away any who dare to approach them. Until after many twists and turns they're back in her room, various plates covering the floor.
"Did you make all of this?" He asks, voiced filled with wonder.
Instead of answering she drops his hand stepping further into his space, instinctively he wraps her up in his arms. Nose nuzzled into her thick fragrant hair.
"I missed you."
She doesn't answer at first then a little hums hits his ear, one of disbelief.
"Yeah you definitely looked like you were missing me holding another woman's hand."
With wide eyes he pulls away, unable to control his mirth now that it's just them.
"My Queen, are you perhaps....jealou-"
A hand slaps over his mouth before he can finish. Scorching eyes glaring up at him defiantly.
"I'm not jealous. Why would I be? You can do whatever and whomever you like."
Laughter bursts out of his lungs and he draws her into another embrace not allowing her to fight him.
"Shhhh, don't be difficult."
She punches in his ribs and he knows asking her such a thing is the equivalent to telling her not to breathe.
He tightens his hold as her squirming intensifies stroking her hair in placating swipes.
"Just as you belong to me, I belong to you."
That makes her still in his arms, arms lifting to finally return his hug but only for a moment before she shoves him away. Inconsistent as always. 
"Okay, okay that's enough. I can't take all this sweetness so early in the morning. Let's just eat. When did I ever say I belonged to you? Sex declarations don’t count.” 
He chuckles but accepts her offer, grinning more when she grumbles how he should feel special and she doesn't cook for just anyone.
He does feel special, having a woman like this is truly a blessing and as he devours her delicious food he knows that he will do everything in his power to stay by her side.
Anything it takes.
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fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years
Text
The Ties That Bind Us - Part 8
Summary: When your past comes back to haunt you, who will prevail?  Hunting had been your life since your were 4 years old.  The monsters that started you on that path were resurfacing, and you knew what you had to do.  But nothing is ever truly secret, and nothing is ever that cut and dry with the Winchester’s in tow.
A/N: This is a new one that is coming from a few requests.  I’m not going to post the actual requests because…well because it would spoil the story line and I’m pretty into this one.
Words: 2438
Warnings: Trauma, medical terminology, stress, hospital waiting room, all the angst
PART ONE  PART TWO  PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE  PART SIX   PART SEVEN
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I hesitated to open my eyes, for fear that I’d wake up and it would all have been a dream. My lips felt warm and pleasantly swollen as I reached my hand up slowly to touch them, keeping my eyes shut.  I took a deep breath and lifted my eyelids, coming eye to eye with Dean as he lay next to me staring.  
Sheepishly, I smiled and released a small chuckle with my fingertips still glazing over my bottom lip.  “Well,” I said meekly.  “Not a dream.”  His eyebrows were still knitted together as if he was unsure as to what my reaction would be.  But the corner of his mouth twitched upward as the hint of a smirk began to spread.  
“Kinda was for me,” he said through an exhale of breath as he ran the back of his fingers along my cheek.  I leaned into his touch, relishing in the delightful feel of his skin on mine.  
“How long,” I asked him.  
“How long what?  How long have I wanted to do that?”  He paused, leaving the silence pregnant with anticipation.  He let out a quick breath, looking to the ceiling as he thought. “Six years ago, St. Patrick’s Day. I told you to kiss me cause I’m Irish. You called me an idiot and threw a pillow at my face.” I laughed at his response. “Been hooked ever since.”  
I could feel heat rushing to my cheeks as they blushed and a coy smile wound itself across my face.  
“Or did you mean how long have I known you wanted me to? Cause that’s a very different answer.”  
I ducked my head down, attempting to hide from his view, and buried my nose into the crook of his neck.  “I mean, I’d be happy to answer that one for you, too, sweetheart but I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”  His words dripped with sarcasm as he pursed his lips and left a trail of kisses from the crown of my head and down the side of my face, slowly pulling my head back up to face him.  
“See, when things weren’t looking all that great for you?  I wasn’t doing so well.  I wasn’t the pillar of strength you’re used to on the day to day.”  His face returned to seriousness now, and my eyes fixated on him.  “I kind of fell apart.  No, that’s not true.  I completely fell apart.  A world without you in it?  That’s not a world I want to be in.”  
I felt tears pooling in my eyes, but I held them at bay.  
“So, my baby brother, he decides he needs to cheer me up.  See, he yanks me up to my feet, slams me up against a wall and tells me to stop being a selfish prick.  Tells me I can help you by just keeping it together, by staying with you.”  Dean’s hand lifted as he pushed my hair gently behind my ear.  “Now I’m lost at this point.  He’s talking crazy and all I want to do is hide from the world.  But the big oaf that Sam is, he wouldn’t allow that.”  He leaned in towards me again, pressing a short, chaste kiss to my lips before tucking his chin over the crown of my head.  
“Instead, he looks me in the eye, tells me I’m a moron, and lets me go.  But not before just blurting out ‘She loves you, you jackass,’ and proceeding to lecture me about how dumb I am.”  The smile on his face is beyond genuine and my entire body feels as though it’s turned to gelatin.  “That true,” he asks me, his eyes back on mine.  The confident smirk on his face is betrayed only by the pleading desperation in his green orbs that are so focused on mine that I dare not even blink.  
Slowly, I nod my head, feeling that same blush rise in my cheeks again.  “Yeah,” I said, my voice cracking as I did so.  
“Thank god,” he breathed out as his lips once again plastered themselves against mine, knocking the air out of me as he slowly wound his arm around my waist.  He leaned into me, rolling me over onto my back as he rested his body on top of mine, his hips jutting against my own.  I could feel his calloused hands wandering; one tangled in my hair as his fingers deftly caressed my ear lobe as his other held our bodies closer together.  
I had wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him with desperation.  Dean pushed against me harder as I felt his excitement growing against my groin.  I broke our lips apart, breathing deeply as I lifted my hand to the back of his head, entwining my fingers in his hair.  He began grinding his hips against me; an act I longed for but subsequently found intolerable.  Shocks of pain tore through my abdomen in waves and I cried out, gasping for air as I ground my teeth together.  
“Fuck,” I grimaced, wincing.  Dean instantly backed away, holding himself almost as if he were doing a pushup.  
“What’s wrong?”  His panicked voice rang out as his eyes examined me.  
I removed one hand from his firm waist and grabbed for my side, desperate to alleviate some of the pain.  
“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered under his breath, looking down towards my waist.  It seemed instantaneous that I sprang off the bed and frantically searched for the remote control with the nurse call button.  A few seconds passed and the pain had ebbed.  
“Dean, I’m fine, really.”  My attempt to settle him did nothing as I spoke to his back.  He was running towards the doorway now, yelling for help.  
I rolled my eyes, knowing that he was surely overreacting.  Pulling my hand away, I glanced down and took in the sight of dark red blood pooling slowly on the sheet beneath me.  “Well, crap.”  
Dean walked back into the room, a female nurse clad in dark purple scrubs in tow.  He raised his hand and pointed towards my wound, and she immediately got to work.  My gown was quickly pushed to the side as she took a look at the damage that had been done.  
“You’ve popped a staple out.  Haven’t seen that too often!”  Her voice was cheery and calming as she smiled sweetly at me.  
“I’ll get the doctor and we’ll get you patched up again in no time.  Good as new, huh?  How are you feeling in the meantime?  What’s your pain level?”  
“I’m good,” I answered simply.  
“Are you sure, darlin’?  You look a little flushed.”  Her eyes were intent now, taking in every physical cue that she could.  
“That, uh,” Dean began with that devilish half smile of his. “That could be my fault.”  He held up a finger as if claiming victory.  I rolled my eyes in response and watched as the nurse did the same.  
She turned her head to face him and took up the absolutely accurate stance of an angry mother about to berate their petulant child.  “You do know that she’s recently had invasive surgery, yes?”  
I watched as Dean shrank under the nurse’s stare.  He nodded solemnly.  
“And that a team of highly trained surgeons spent several hours fixing her up and putting her back together again with slim odds that she’d even wake up, let alone thrive and begin healing?”  Her question was obviously rhetorical.  Dean held eye contact with her and nodded.
“Yes, ma’am.”  He’d never sounded so young and childlike.  
“So maybe, just maybe, we can pause on the hanky panky funny stuff until after she’s discharged, yeah?”  
I stifled my laughter as Dean nodded again, and the nurse exited the room, patting his shoulder as she walked by; the smile on her face betrayed the entertainment she had felt at Dean’s expense.  
Dean skulked back towards me, lowering himself into the chair beside my bed.  The laughter that I had been withholding came pouring out of me, eliciting more pain as I again held my side.  
“Geez, Y/N, you’re going to open yourself up more.”  Dean placed his hands on my arms, attempting to hold me still.  
“Yeah, well. You started it.”
His eyes went wide with incredulity.  “How do you figure?”  
“You were the one who opened up first!”  My cheesy joke landed flat.  
Dean rolled his eyes, leaning backwards in his chair as he sighed dramatically.  “Good to see you didn’t lose your awful sense of humor.”  
I smiled at him exaggeratedly.  “I’m delightful.”  
He smiled at me again, reaching over and raking his fingertips down my cheek. “Yeah,” he paused. “You are.”  
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The doctors had swooped into the room, getting me all stitched back together in a blur of lights, antiseptic, and latex gloves.  The same nurse had accompanied them, insisting on administering more morphine when she did so.  
They moved me into a wheelchair as they waited for my bedsheets to be taken out and laundered.  I was struggling to keep my head up as I leaned my temple against my palm, fighting to hold my eyelids open.  I could feel Dean’s warm hand drawing comforting circles on my back, but my head was swimming.  His soothing voice rang out every few minutes, letting me know that it was okay if I wanted to fall asleep.  Encouraged even. But stubbornly, I refused, shaking my head and insisting on waiting until Sam came back.
It wasn’t too long until Sam peaked his head into my room; his long hair unkept and falling in his face.  
“Hey, Tarzan,” I mumbled, giggling at my own joke.  Both the boys stared at me quizzically as my eyes closed and I leaned further over onto the side, my chuckles growing quieter.  
“Tarzan? I thought it was Thor.”  Sam’s voice drifted in as if he were speaking through static.  
“She’s out of her mind on morphine, Sammy.  Don’t worry.”  I could hear the jest in Dean’s voice as he spoke from just behind me.  
There was a small hint of commotion as an orderly came in with a rolling tray full of food for me.  With my eyes still closed, I took a deep breath, attempting to smell my meal.  But my sense of smell reacted negatively as I breathed in the scent of hard-boiled eggs, squash and fish.  
“Gross,” I protested, grabbing at the wheels of the wheelchair I sat in and attempting to push myself away.  
“No. Don’t want that,” I murmured as I shook my head.  There was a strong hand grasping my shoulders as someone gently whispered in my ear to relax.  “Mom made me lasagna,” I groaned, as large tears overwhelmed my lids and began cascading down my cheeks.  
I felt warm fingers press against my cheeks as Dean’s familiar voice repeated my name softly.  
“Hey, Y/N.  Can you open your eyes for me?”  
I stubbornly shook my head, opting for the darkness my closed eyelids afforded me.  I could feel panic rising in my chest, and my breaths began coming in stuttered waves.  Sam’s voice was screaming into the hallway, demanding a nurse or any sort of help.  But my head was swimming.  I could still smell the garlic and tomatoes as the cheese bubbled on the top of my favorite dish.  I could hear my mother’s voice as she spoke with me. My father’s warm, teddy-bear embrace still ghosted over my arms.  But all I could see was black.  I longed for the comfort their memories had afforded me.  
“Daddy,” I mumbled out as I felt the familiar push of medication run up my arm as forced, restless sleep overtook me.  
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I woke hours later.  Days possibly.  The sky outside my window was still dark and the light in the room too dim.  Running my dry hands down my face, I pulled myself slowly to sit up in the bed.  The ache in my side not entirely unnoticed.  Every muscle in my body was sore and resisted moving.  I kicked my legs out gently over the bed, glaring at my thighs as I balanced myself on them with the palms of my hands.  
“Don’t even think about it,” Dean’s voice was stern as he spoke from the chair in the corner of the room.  I watched his arms flex as he walked towards me, squatting effortlessly in front of me as his eyes locked onto mine.  
“Back in bed.”  His words were stern, but his eyes betrayed some sadness that lingered on his face.  
“Dean?”  My voice was groggy and sounded foreign to me.  
“Y/N get your ass back in bed, now.”  He sounded almost defeated; an unfamiliar tone for him.  
I acquiesced and pulled my legs back onto the uncomfortable air mattress, keeping my eyes set on his face.  “What’s wrong,” I asked him. “You seem grumpy.”  He took his seat again in the lounge chair next to me, leaning on his knees with his elbows.
A forced, quick breath leaked through his nostrils, full of incredulity.  “Grumpy, huh?”  He paused.  “Can’t imagine why.”  His eyes fell to his hands, focusing on the thin piece of fabric that he was fiddling with.  He flicked his gaze up to me, following my gaze back down to his hands.  
“It’s part of your shirt,” he explained.  “Or, well, was.”  He paused again. “It tore off in your back there,” he gestured towards my side.  “Had to dig it out on the way here.”  
I took a deep breath, attempting to steady my surprise.  “I’m sorry, Dean.”  
He pursed his eyebrows and looked up towards me slowly.  “For what?  Getting stabbed?  Not your fault.”  
I reached towards him, surprised when I watched him pull away and lean back into his seat.  “See, getting stabbed? Hurt?  Happens to all of us.  But you,” he said, holding the fabric up towards me. “You were reckless.  You ditched me and Sam and did your damnedest to be in more danger than you needed to be.”  His eyes shot up towards mine again, that same pained sadness shooting out of his eyes as he let silence stretch between us.  
“And here, in this hospital.  Some of the things you’re saying, been saying.  They’ve got me wondering.”  
I let his statement stand, wanting desperately to not discuss the topic at hand. “See, I’m wondering if there’s not something you’re hiding.  Something you didn’t or aren’t telling me. And that?  That won’t work.  That’s something else.”  He dropped his head, clenching his hand into a fist as he held onto the scrap of clothing.  “So, talk.”  
To be continued….
Part Nine
Taglist (Tag requests are open):
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(Desperate attempt to get my faves to notice me) @thinkinghardhardlythinking @smol-and-grumpy @wonder-cole-reads @watermelonlipstick @that-one-gay-girl @waywardbaby @luci-in-trenchcoats @holylulusworld @cockslut-padalecki @calaofnoldor​
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Good
Day 11: Praise Kink w/ Sero Hanta
Warnings/Other Kinks: Praise kink, grinding, this one is pretty soft
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This one is less smutty but it's more or less a chance to give Sero some much deserved attention :)
Also, I'm super behind in fics, whoops. I'll just catch up when I can. Which means some days you'll get more then 1! Sorry. But life is kicking my butt lately so....
Disclaimers: 18+ years old to read, all characters are aged 20+
You always got worried seeing Sero doing actual hero work. That was natural though, right? You loved him. So of course, seeing him in the throes of battle, no matter how talented he was, you couldn't help but get nervous. Being a pro hero came with the constant threat of harm, and while you weren't going to stop him from doing his job, you naturally had some concern.
So sometimes when a particularly newsworthy story popped up on your feed, you'd watch for Sero and the times that he popped up are the times you'd endure the whole video to make sure he was safe. 
You'd analyze those videos with your heart pounding in your chest the whole time. However, once the villain was caught and you knew your Sero was safe, that was when your buzzing adrenaline shifted to admiration. Once the anxiety was soothed, it made time for you to rewatch the video and see how truly amazing your partner was.
Cellophane was a fantastic hero. Maybe not the most widely known or popular hero, but a phenomenal one all the same. He was quick thinking and always put others first (a trait that worried you to no end but was endearing all the same). Clever even in the heat of battle and almost always giving off that signature smile of his at the end of a capture. The way he handled resume missions was a dream too. 
Plus, he pulled it all off while looking absolutely gorgeous in your humble, but totally 100% accurate, opinion. Needless to say, the second time you would watch videos of his hero work, after knowing he was safe - they just hit different. 
Your partner had returned from work today while you were still feeling that swell of pride and admiration bubbling within you, which ended up with you coaxing him to lay on his stomach on your bed and then you climbing up to straddle his back. He was an underappreciated hero and while you couldn't suddenly become the millions of adoring fans he deserved, you could absolutely be the best fan you could be and smother him with all the affection you could muster.
"Does that feel good, baby?" You purred, leaning into the hands you had crawling up his back, kneading the muscles underneath and watching Hanta melt into the mattress below. Every knot you felt in his body, you worked on smoothing out, causing him to make little groans and grunts beneath you before he turned more and more into putty. 
"Yeah, it does. When did you get so good at this?" He asked as you moved your hips back further to draw lower on his back, continued to press your palms down to give him a sweet taste of pressure. Maybe you just wanted to feel him up some more too. 
You pursed your lips a little, giving a low hum as you pushed your hands back up and you had to conceal your smirk at his groan. "I don't know if I'm good. I just think you're long due for some attention. You work so hard, poor thing." He didn't respond except for a small grunt of content as you cooed out, voice dripping with sugar and sweetness. "But you're so good at what you do. The best hero I've ever seen."
"That's an overstatement. I'm good but I-" you cut him off when you found a particularly tight spot and pressed down and out, pushing your weight into your arm and causing him to lose concentration with a particularly pretty moan. He even made the best sounds. You were being nice and relaxing right now but you had to admit, those little noises of his were enticing. They reminded you of the sounds he made hot up against when he had you flipped out on the bed. 
"None of that today," you chirped, your movements slowly caressing back up over his sides. "You've been doing so well. Today, I wanna spoil you. Give you lots of rewards for being such a good boy." That last little pet name escaped you as you dropped your chest closer to his back so you could fan your breath against his ear. The teasing bit of heat you laced your words with had the desired effect as you caught the faintest twinge of red coloring the tips of his ears just before he buried his head in the pillow.
He was working on collecting himself, but you didn't let him, instead you climbed off of him and pushed him over so he was facing the ceiling. You beamed at that pretty flush on his cheeks. "What's gotten into you today-'
"Did me calling you a good boy do something for you?" You always knew he liked praise - he had always liked being recognized for his achievements, even if it wasn't a priority. Something about giving a good stroke to his ego once in awhile - and possibly a good stroke of something else.
You were once again straddling back over his hips before he could wiggle away into a different position and he soon had his wide eyes locked in on you, one hand coming up to scratch the back of his head as he tried to play it cool. "I don't know if I'd say that. Although you having your hands all over me since I've gotten home has done something for sure."
"Oh, so you don't want me to call you a good boy?" Your hands were once again trailing over himself, this time tracing a line up his abs. But before you were doing it for his pleasure, and right now, you were doing it just to get a feel of the sculpted body underneath you. "You don't want me to tell you how good you did today? Or about how good you made me feel when I saw you being all heroic on the news today?" You had to hold the teasing out of your voice, instead opting to keep it with a more saccharin note. "You're really impressive to watch, ya know? I see you in action and all I can think about is you and how excited I am for my big, strong hero to come home and wrap his arms around me." You had settled on his lap and were absolutely overjoyed to feel something twitch underneath you. He hadn't exactly been soft when you had climbed on him earlier but you liked that immediate reaction you got as you tapped at his pecs playfully. "I get really excited waiting for you to get home and be just as good to me." You rocked your hips, letting the fabric of your clothes grind against him for just that slight bit of friction - just enough to give him the tiniest taste as you looked down at him and a more coy look graced your features. "Don't you want to be a good boy for me?"
Judging by the way his body shot up beneath you, he certainly did. 
Although, he took you off your high horse in the next moment as suddenly he bent his arms and tape was flying out from his elbows - tape that wrapped right around your waist and tugged you down against him harder. "You're trying to tease me on purpose," he announced, face still hot with his sheepishness but there was a cocky little smile dancing on his lips - and damn, did you adore that smile. "And I hate to say it, but it's working."
Another tug on the tape and you found your body pushing down onto his again but you still found the time to burst out in little giggles as you worked in tandem with him, dry grinding on top of him with motions that got forceful when he tugged you down. "Well, yeah. I can tell." You grabbed at the waistband of his pants, slowly starting to ease them down when you could between your rocking until they were pushed past his hips. "So, that means you do want to be my good boy, right? Want me to give you a big reward?" You managed to stagger your hips timing just enough so you could duck your hand down his pants, working to grab his length and pop him out. But before you could get a hold, another stretch of tape reached out and snagged your wrist, tugging it back out where he could see it.
He may love the praise and attention, but he had never been the type to just sit back and only let things happen to him. That just wasn't his style. And so, while he'd absolutely enjoy you doting on him… well, he wanted to make sure he earned it first. "I'll be whatever you want me to be. But if you really want me to be a good boy-" you didn't miss the way his voice caught just a little "-then I'm going to make sure I make you feel real, real good first."
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luna-redamancy · 4 years
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Obsession pt.2 {Thranduil x F! Reader}
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Word Count: 2692
Warnings: Smut
Note: This chapter is 18+, please do not read if you are a minor. This is simply a bonus part to the previous chapter.
Part One
Monthly council meetings were always a bore. Discussing politics to pull a curtain over everyone's eyes about their true intentions. They were there to try and gain Thranduil’s favor, to get him to give them funds for useless ‘projects’ in the woodlands, and to get drunk without paying a bill for their wine consumption. 
Thranduil’s thumb drew comforting circles on the back of your hand as you two sat at the head of the table, vexation clear on your features as you squeezed his hand in response, giving him a gentle smile. 
“I think we should break for lunch then return to finish the details.” You announced once a representative from the southern section of the kingdom finished his address to the council. 
“I agree.” Thranduil nodded, everyone standing up to exit to the dining hall. 
“My, King Thranduil…” Merlara, an advisor to the elven kingdoms of the west, called out to Thranduil, a coy smile on her face. “Merlara,” Thranduil nodded his head out of respect to her, your eyes flickering in between them. Tossing her hair to the side, Merlara leaned forward slightly as she began to discuss trade. Rolling your eyes, you swallowed a scoff that threatened to emerge. ‘She’s flirting with him…’ you thought, a frown forming on your features. You and Thranduil hadn’t had time to complete the courting ritual, so to everyone in the room, you were just arm candy. Nothing serious. 
“Would I be so bold as to invite you to a night of craft--” You cut her off before she could finish. 
“Last time I checked, it was frowned upon to try to come in between a courted couple.” The bite in your tone was unmistakable, purposefully locking an arm around his middle and resting your head on his shoulder. “He’s mine.” Your eyes narrowed with possessiveness as Thranduil quirked a brow, enjoying this side of you.
“Well, as far as I can tell, you two haven’t finished courting so he’s free game.” Merlara bit back, not liking you getting in her way of becoming Queen of Mirkwood. 
“As far as I can tell, your blood would look really nice on this stone floor after I trounce your face in.” You growled, moving to stand in front of Thranduil. 
Thranduil’s stomach flipped pleasantly at the thought of you so ferociously defending your love for him, tugging you back by the waist to give you a kiss on your neck. “Merlara, if you couldn’t already tell, you will never have my affection as much as my beloved.” 
“Damn straight.” You huffed, tilting your head to let him keep kissing your neck. 
“I can’t wait to get you in private and ravish you,” Thranduil whispered huskily in your ear as she stalked away, trying to maintain some form of dignity. You felt your stomach clench as your arousal flared, your tongue flicking out to lick your bottom lip. Trying to maintain some ounce of control to not say screw it all and go back to your bedding chambers. 
Gulping you pulled away slightly, your movement making you hyper aware of Thranduils… Situation. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you drowned in his smell, his being, before mumbling “I can’t wait until you mark me up to show that even without a moonstone I’m yours. And that you are mine.” You whispered back before pulling away completely, leaving Thranduil to hold in a whine as you sauntered over to the dining table to eat with the visiting council members. 
‘Mine’ Kept swirling in Thranduil’s mind, his thoughts always drifting over to your display of protectiveness over him, your eagerness to defend your relationship. His chest fluttered with an unknown feeling, something deeper than love that he hadn’t felt about another before. ‘He’s mine’ He could hear your voice in his head. Thranduil stifled a groan by coughing into his fist, feeling his pants tighten, before he too joined the council members for their meal. 
Merlara watched with narrow eyes, a tight smile on her face as she watched Thranduil take a seat next to you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I can’t believe an elf of such a high standing would sink so low to be with a human,” Merlara gossiped to the ellon next to her, smirking coyly when their laughter filled her ears. 
Looking up from your plate, you smiled softly. “I can’t believe such an elleth with a horrid personality would be allowed to join a council.” You responded, keeping your sweet smile, eyes shining with joy as her smirk dropped to a frown again. 
The members looked between each other, confusion and nervousness clear on their faces as you interacted with Merlara. “I also can’t believe someone could be so desperate to get to the top they’d try to sleep with any king they could find.” You bit into your cherry tomato, a smile still on your face as you felt Thranduil hold your hand, non-verbally telling you he supported you. 
“King Thranduil?!” Merlara gasped out, rising from her seat. 
“Yes?”
“How dare you let such scum treat me in such a vile manner, me, a member of your council, one of your longest and closest allies?!”
Rolling your eyes, you kept your seat. “As far as we are aware, you are the true scum here, Merlara. And if you don’t like Thranduil and I courting each other so badly, then you can take your filthy---” 
“I think you can all send your final project inquiries and requests through letter, our meeting for today is adjourned.” Thranduil spoke before you could get too riled up, feeling his own trousers now uncomfortably tight from your display. 
“King Thranduil?!”
“If you will all forgive me, me and my beloved have urgent matters to attend to.” 
And with that, the two of you exited the dining hall, hurrying toward your shared bedding chamber with excitement bubbling in your skin. Thranduil threw open the door, swinging you inside before slamming it shut, the lock clicking in place before he pushed you against the wall. His lips sealed against yours, moving with a fierce passion. Your hands snaked into his hair, tugging at his scalp as your teeth began to clash, tongues snaking together as your pulse began to race beneath your skin. 
Thranduil gripped at your butt, his hands kneading the flesh as he groaned into your mouth, the sound going straight to your core as he lifted you to grind his arousal against you. “Thranduil,” You exhaled, tilting your head against the wall as your eyes stared upwards, half lidded with lust. Thranduil began nipping at the skin of your neck, enjoying watching your skin bloom with flowers of red and purple, displaying his claim of you. 
“Mine,” He growled in your ear, licking the shell of it before resuming his attention to your neck. Using his hips to keep you up against the wall, Thranduil let his hands wander to your chest. Relishing in the feeling of you beneath his hands, Thranduil’s eyes narrowed at the fabric separating him from feeling the softness of your skin. 
Bringing his forehead against yours, Thranduil maintained eye contact as he gripped the fabric and delivered a sharp tug. A ripping sound filled the air as your chest was exposed to the cold air, your nipples stiffening in response as a gasp left your lips. “I liked that dress,” You scolded half-heartedly, a laugh clear in your voice as a grin formed on your face. 
“I’ll send a seamstress to make you a thousand more.” Thranduil murmured as he lifted you from against the wall, laying you against the bed before rising to discard the material. “Your dresses are beautiful, but my dear, you are so much more delectable.” Thranduil grinned at you, a grin on his lips as he took in the sight of you displayed before him. Only left in your panties, your chest heaving up and down with excitement. 
Thranduil took off his crown, tossing it carelessly to the side as he stripped off his clothing, the fine fabrics being discarded to the floor like garbage. Your eyes were drawn across his figure, your teeth sinking into your lip as you admired his lean form, muscular yet toned and defined. His skin smooth and pale like cream.
Dragging your eyes down his form, you watched as his hands began to remove his trousers and drawers, his length being exposed to your hungry gaze. His cock was well endowed, both thick and long as it sprang up against his stomach. Firm with arousal, precum already dripping from it’s tip. 
“I think you are a bit overdressed, my starlight,” Thranduil decided, crawling back on the bed like a tiger stalking its prey. 
“Is that so?” You quirked a brow as Thranduil nodded. “Well, maybe you should even the playing field.” You grinned as Thranduil smirked. 
“Oh I shall.” Thranduil hummed as he gripped your panties, dragging them down your legs before carefully pushing open your thighs. “My my…” He was almost speechless, your arousal nearly dripping off you as you laid now bare before him. 
“A true goddess you are,” He mumbled, sinking to lay on his stomach as he peppered kisses on your thighs, moving closer and closer to your heat as you felt your skin warm with excitement. The blankets felt heavenly against your skin, almost successfully distracting you until you felt Thranduil’s tongue. 
Thranduil flattened his tongue, licking a thick stripe up your slit. “Oh,” You gasped out, not expecting the sensation as he hooked his arms around your thighs. He flicked his eyes up to yours, the obsessed gaze in his eyes causing your cunt to clench around nothing as felt your arousal increase. Thranduil moved one hand away from your thigh, lacing it with yours as he maintained eye contact, his tongue moving to draw circles around your clit before flicking it. 
A shuddered breath left your lips, the sound encouraging your beloved as he continued to eat you out with a growing excitement. Light licks turned into sucking, the sensation making you cry our, your hands tangling in his locks as you felt a satisfied smirk against your skin. He wanted to drag every sound he could out of you. 
Thranduil relished in your sounds, your taste, the softness of your skin as he buried his face in between your legs, your tugs only encouraging him to bring you closer to the brink. Your sighs turned into elongated moans as he brought his unoccupied hand to your mound. Swirling his finger in your wetness, he carefully pushed a finger inside, enjoying feeling your hips buck in response as he slid another alongside it, thrusting them in and out with a come-hither motion. 
The coil inside your gut tightened and twisted, you knew it was getting close to snapping. “T-Thranduil--” You gasped out trying to give some sort of warning. Seemingly understanding your predicament, Thranduil suckled your clit harder, his fingers moving faster, pushing your sweet inner button over and over. 
“Come for me, let everyone in this castle know who you belong to..” Thranduil growled before resuming his actions, the coil in your gut tightening until finally you couldn’t hold off any longer, your orgasm crashing through you like waves hitting the rocks of a shoreline. “Thranduil!” You cried out, your grip on his hair tightening as he slowed his ministration, helping you elongate your euphoria until you began pushing his head away, your oversensitivity rising. 
You melted against the blankets, your eyes slipping shut as your chest heaved up and down, your heart pounding in your ears as Thranduil crawled up your body, peppering kisses along the way until he reached your lips. “Mine,” He mumbled as he nuzzled you. 
“Yours,” You agreed, opening your eyes as a smile formed on your face, “And you’re definitely mine,” You stated, recalling Merlara’s actions from before. 
Thranduil felt his cock twitch at your words, he too recalled the interaction you two had before. 
“Definitely yours,” He agreed as he sprinkled kisses down your neck again, moving to your chest. Licking and nipping at your breasts, Thranduil settled himself in between your legs, his erection settling against your mound as he worshipped your chest. 
Finally he flicked his gaze back to yours, “May I?” He questioned, wanting to ensure you were okay with continuing. Nodding you spread your legs even wider, moaning at the feel of his length brushing over your clit. “Please,” You whined as he began to grind against you. Thranduil granted your wish, sinking inside of you inch by inch, your pussy stretching wide to adjust to his girth, a moan slipping past your lips as he began to thrust wildly, not giving you a moment to adjust to him. 
The sounds of skin smacking filled your ears, soon drowned out by the sounds of your moans and groans, Thranduil’s grunts mingling with them. Thranduil’s obsession swirled through his vision, the display of you so wantonly accepting him drove him to something more animalistic, his obsession taking over him. His hands grabbed at your waist while he pulled out of you just enough to flip you onto your stomach and slide back in. Thranduil’s cock sank deeper into you than before, causing you to cry out as he began thrusting deep and fast, his hand grabbing your hair and tugging. 
“Say it.” Thranduil demanded.
Confusion covered your face for a brief moment before a small smirk formed on your lips. “Mine.” You spoke, grinning lustfully at the feeling of his cock twitch in response. “You are mine, Thranduil, I won’t let anybody take you away from me.” You declared before your voice dissolved into cries of pleasure as he growled, pounding into you harder than before causing your thighs to shake as you felt another orgasm threatening to roll through you. Sensing this, Thranduil snaked a hand underneath you, rubbing figure-eights around your sensitive nub to push you over the edge. “Thran...Thranduil!” You gasped out as he suckled bruises onto your neck, effectively marking you where the public could see, his fingers moving faster against your swollen clit, determined to make you reach your peak once more before he finished. 
His actions worked, your body trembling as your orgasm ripped through you. Your walls clenched around his length, a groan passing his lips as your tightness sent him over the edge. A moan passed your lips as you felt him release inside you, your toes curling as he released you, pressing kisses to your shoulder blade. 
Thranduil let out a low moan as he pulled out of you, reaching for a cloth to clean you up as you laid on your stomach. Breathing heavily, you sighed in content as you snuggled the pillow. Tossing the soiled cloth to the side, Thranduil carefully watched you, coming off of his crazed high. 
“(Name)?” Thranduil spoke soft, not wanting to wake you if you slipped into a slumber. “Hmm?” You hummed back, turning to lay on your side to face him. “I didn’t hurt you did I?” He questioned, worry on his features as you lifted the blankets out from underneath you, slipping into the crisp sheets. He had never gotten so out of control with you before, afraid of your reaction, he waited until you answered him before crawling in next to you.
Laughing, you wiped your hand over your face before looking back at him, “Are you serious?” You questioned, noticing his worried expression. “Deadly.” 
Your expression softened at his concern, “Thranduil, you didn’t hurt me.” You confirmed, knowing the lovebites across your skin could possibly indicate otherwise. “In fact, I quite enjoyed our… fornication,” You grinned as he slowly accepted your answer, a smile of his own forming as he crawled in bed next to you. 
His arms slipped around your waist, tugging you to his chest, his hand cradling your head as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 
“I love you,” You mumbled, sleepiness filling your voice as you snuggled closer to him. 
“And I love you, my starlight.” Thranduil muttered, watching as you drifted to sleep. 
Tags-
Forever Tag:
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fernisasinner · 3 years
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Hi hi~ Here's a challenge for ya... We know Levi is a shy baby boy and probably the only sub out of the brothers. However, what if he overheard Mammon and Asmodeus talking about how girls love to be harshly dommed. You think you can write what it'll be like once Levi lets out his primal side on the MC??
Hi! This is my first time writing smut so I apologise for any awkward bits. Please note that this is fully consensual, Levi and the MC have talked about all of these things before and they do have a safe word. Please don’t do this shit to your partner without establishing explicit consent first. I ended up writing Levi a bit more gentle than I originally intended to, so he’s not as rough or feral as I’ve seen him written by other people. I tried to keep the reader gender-neutral but please let me know if I slipped up anywhere and I’ll change it! Anyway, here, have a drabble.
Mammon and Asmo Regret Their Choices - Leviathan x gn!MC (dom Leviathan and sub MC)
Warnings - nsfw , derogatory language , slight impact play , slight choking , exhibitionism if you squint , tail play , uhh I’m not sure what else to warn against but please let me know if you find something! Levi does use language like pretty and gorgeous to refer to the MC, but this should read as gender-neutral.
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Mammon and Asmo were in on it. It was too easy to bring out his jealous side with a few choice words in a well-timed conversation. Mammon, ever the experienced one in listening for the whereabouts of everybody in the House of Lamentation (no, totally not to steal from his brothers or run away from Lucifer) was the one to hear Levi’s door open, signaling that the demon would be coming their way soon.
“He’s coming. Quick, Asmo, start!” Taking his cue from Mammon’s whisper-shout, Asmodeus cleared his throat and put his performance skills to use, beginning with a coy tone.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m all for being at the mercy of my partners. Sometimes though, nothing beats the pained delight I get the pleasure of seeing as I make someone fall apart underneath me. Their little whines, the way their body shudders, knowing that they’re just desperate to be completely wrecked by me, and when they’re good I reward them with my-“
“OKAY, Asmo! I get it, I don’t need all the details of your escapades, by Diavolo. Just say ya like getting’ railed sometimes and other times like givin’ it instead.”
“Isn’t it cute how crazy demons go when someone else takes complete control?” Asmo giggled, while Mammon smirked.
“I ain’t disagreein’ with ya that demons love it rough, but I’m curious to see what would happen goin’ feral on a human.” Asmo’s responding grin was positively devious.
“Oh, Mammon~ how naughty of you, I like your thinking. Perhaps Mc would be fonder of us if we took them like-“ He was cut off as Levi finally made it to where they were standing.
“WHAT did you just say?” Both brothers had the cheek to act surprised at his appearance.
“Oh, Levi~ we didn’t see you there! We were just talking about how much fun it would be for a human like MC if-“ Levi didn’t even let Asmodeus finish.
“I don’t care! Fuckin normies.” As he turned on his heel to go in the direction of MC’s room, Mammon and Asmodeus turned with a knowing grin and gave each other a high-five.
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MC was at their desk doing homework for RAD until their door opened and closed again, the lock clicking before familiar footsteps made their way behind them and a tense aura cloaked the room.
Does this mean it worked? They were hesitant to hope, but quickly felt a rush of excitement as something slithered up their neck and around their throat, squeezing slightly before curling further up their jaw and finally to the side of their lips, dipping into their mouth. Levi silently tapped on their cheek, prompting them to lick around the end of his tail and start sucking once it was coated in saliva. Levi let out a shaky exhale at their actions and they groaned as he rewarded them with another light squeeze. He was slightly startled that they had made a noise already. He wasn’t expecting that.
“Did that turn you on?” A blush crept onto their cheeks as they shyly nodded. Levi mumbled a spell and clicked his fingers, and their clothes were gone. He chuckled and bit down gently onto the junction of their neck and shoulder, drawing a whimper from them this time.
“Wow, you’re so needy for me already and I haven’t even touched you with my hands yet. How pathetic.” They tried to stifle their voice this time as he licked and sucked over where he bit them, giving the occasional nibble to brighten the mark. In a flash, he had shifted their positions, so they were now straddling his lap. A hand brought down on their ass made them yelp, then moan out what they were holding in before. Their head was yanked up by a hand he had roughly fisted in their hair. He held them there until they met his eyes. His eyes were glowing with lust and something darker that made their heart leap.
“Don’t you dare hold back your pretty little noises, MC. I want to hear you. I want my brothers to hear you. Let everyone know how I’m making you feel.” He gently kissed their nose before tightening his grip. “If you try to deprive me of one of your moans again,” He brought his mouth right next to their ear. “I will make you pay.” He gave their earlobe a sharp nip. “Not only that, but I will make all the more sure that you are screaming my name by the end of the night.” He softened his grip and played with their hair for a few moments, pleased when they sighed and leaned into his touch. “Do you understand, my Henry?” He cradled their face and smoothed his fingers over their cheeks as he waited for an affirmation.
“Yes,” their mouth tugged up at the corners. “…Admiral.” He growled and picked them up effortlessly, slamming them against the wall and attacking their lips with his own. He waited only long enough to settle their legs around his waist before he was forcing his tongue into their mouth, swallowing each other’s moans, and groping all his favourite sports on their torso.
MC let out a startled gasp when they felt something tease at their hole, moaning against Levi’s feral smirk as he reveled in their pants, so obviously desperate for his tail to be closer, for it to be inside of them. He continued to let the digit massage their most sensitive areas while one of his hands moved down to fondle their sex and the other traced over their lips.
“Suck.” MC complied straightaway, somewhat sloppy in their eagerness to please this new side of the Admiral. The man currently keeping them pinned up against the wall with only his hips was a far cry from the ‘yucky otaku’ that was usually begging on his knees for them. Oh, how the tables had turned. Between moaning and the fingers shoved in their mouth, it was difficult to voice the sheer want taking over their body. However, when their blown pupils met the glint in Levi’s own eyes, it was clear that he knew exactly what they were yearning for.
“Patience, my dear Henry. Make sure you get them nice and wet for me.” When he was satisfied with their efforts, he slipped the digits out of their mouth, leaving a sticky trail of drool across their chin. MC whimpered when they felt the wetness circle and press against their hole. Levi grabbed their jaw.
“Open.” MC opened their mouth and looked up at him with lust-blown eyes. He spat on their tongue and closed their mouth for them. “Swallow.” He smiled and kissed their cheek. “Good Henry.”
“L-Levi-“ He halted his ministrations for a moment and raised a single eyebrow. “A-Admiral!” They gasped at the quick lash of his tail against their ass, more shocked than hurt at the slight sting. He smirked and pushed two fingers into their hole, causing them to whine loud and long.
“Admiral…please.” He took glee in the way they squirmed around his fingers. He knew he had found that sweet spot when one of their hands grabbed for his hair and the other dug into his back. His eyes began to glow at the scrape of their fingernails, delighted in the knowledge that he was the one making them feel this way.
“Please what? Use your words, sweetheart.” He kissed them again as they whined louder, swallowing the sounds. He bit their lip and flicked them on the nose, fixing them with an expectant look.
“P-please- augh! Fuck, fuck me, ah! Admiral!” They struggled to get the words out, Levi paused, making a show of considering it.
“Hmm, okay.” In one move, smooth as it was sudden, they were thrown onto the bed. Levi slowly crawled over them. His hands glided over their calves. “Legs up over your head, gorgeous.” MC did their best to comply, lifting their shaky legs and using their arms to pull them closer. They felt a flush of embarrassment at the new position, shy to show off this view so blatantly to him.
“That’s it. What a pretty picture.” Levi cooed as he caressed their face. They moaned when he positioned himself at their hole. He was hard and leaking, clearly as turned on by the switch in dynamics as they were. And he was big. They gazed up at him with hooded eyes, not bothering to disguise their want.
He kissed them and pushed in in one slow but fluid movement. They gasped, squeezing their eyes shut and digging nails into his back while they buried their face in his shoulder. “Shhh.” He made soothing sounds and peppered their face and neck with kisses. As desperate as he was to move, his Henry came first, and he waited with patience for the pain to turn to pleasure.
“P-please…Admiral. Please mo-move.” He chuckled. He could see that they weren’t fully adjusted yet but started to rock into their body.
“My Henry is so desperate for the Admiral that I’ve got you clenching around my cock and you’re still begging for more. Pathetic.” MC started rocking their hips back to meet Levi’s thrusts as the two got into a rhythm, moans spilling out left and right. Levi noticed MC’s eyes were still closed and a flare of envy reared its head. Were they daring to think of someone else? He grabbed their throat and pressed.
“Eyes open. Look at me, sweetheart.” Their eyes stared into his and he could no longer doubt that the only demon on their mind at this moment was him. “There we go, good Henry. Keep them open for me.” His voice lowered. “I want you to see exactly who’s doing this to you.” They groaned obscenely loud and brought him in for a filthy kiss. He moaned into their mouth as his thrusts sped up. MC’s voice got higher and more urgent as they chased their climax, holding onto Levi with a grip tight enough to rival that of a demon. Levi’s hips began to stutter as they clenched around him and held him tight.
“Henry! Aughh!” With a groan, Levi finished inside of MC, cum coating their sensitive walls in post-orgasmic bliss. They both took a moment to come down, holding each other as they caught their breath. Levi smiled at them, kissed their forehead, and moved so his head was between their legs. They startled when they realised what he was doing.
“L-Levi! I mean, Admiral! What are you-“ He met their eyes with a soft but devilish grin.
“You’ve been so good to me, Henry. I think you deserve a reward.” With that, he started licking, catching his own seed as it leaked from MC’s oversensitive opening. MC curled one hand in the blanket and the other in his hair, not sure if they wanted to pull him closer or push his overstimulating mouth away. He started moving his tongue just-so, and before long, tears filled MC’s eyes. It felt too good and they couldn’t help letting out a little sob. Levi stopped and moved up to face them.
“Aww, sweetheart.” He wiped away their tears with soft thumbs. “Is it too much?” MC nodded and whimpered. “Do you want me to stop?” He held their face in his hands and kissed their cheeks.
“N-no. Please keep going, Admiral. I want more of you.” Levi stroked their hair as they shared a delicate, open-mouthed kiss. MC moaned when they tasted Levi’s own essence on his tongue. The noise seemed to flip a switch. Levi growled and aggressively deepened the kiss, dominating MC with his tongue that was covered in liquid from both of them. One of his hands moved down to play with MC again. When their voice started getting louder, he tutted at them.
“So eager to cum again already, my gorgeous Henry? Take it like an obedient little whore and maybe I’ll let you.” This time, the end of his tail pushed into their hole with no warning. They squeezed around the appendage and tried to adjust, but Levi was ruthless with his pace. He admired MC squirming underneath him, almost drooling at the picture of their body being forced to accommodate as he pushed more length in with every thrust.
“So, I overheard Mammon and Asmo talking earlier.” He bit and sucked on their shoulder. They moaned and panted into his. “They seemed to be under the impression that they could take you like you belonged to them.” MC moaned louder into his ear and shook their head. “Tell me, could they take care of you like me?” He nipped their earlobe and sucked the sensitive area behind it.
“No, Admiral!” He smiled darkly at their loud compliance.
“Tell me, who’s making you fall apart right now?” He pinched a nipple between his fingers, swirling his tongue over the other one.
“You, Admiral! Only you!”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Louder, so my brothers can hear exactly who’s making you feel so good. If you do well, I’ll let you have my cock and fill you up again like the cute fuck toy you are.”
“YOU, ADMIRAL LEVI! YOU’RE TAKING ME LIKE NOBODY ELSE CAN! MAKING ME FEEL SO G-GOOD! ADMIRAL!” MC was just about screaming. Levi groaned and slipped his tail out, shoving it in their mouth instead and replacing it with his dick.
“Henry, you feel so good! Swallowing me up like this, what an adorable little slut.” Everything seemed hazy as he fucked them into the mattress. Nothing mattered at this moment except for his pleasure and theirs.
“Admiral, PLEASE! I’m close! Can- ah! Can I-“ Their teeth clinked as he brought them into a desperate kiss.
“Yes. Yes, my gorgeous Henry, scream for me!” He rutted fast and hard, riding through both of their highs.
“ADMIRAL!”
The two held onto each other as they caught their breath again. Levi pulled out and when some of his cum leaked out of them, he pushed it back in with his fingers.
“Hold it in there like a good little pet, okay Henry?” He cooed at them. “You were so lucky to get the Admiral’s seed. We don’t want it going to waste now, do we?” He ran a hand down their face, smiling softly before scooping them up. He carried them next to the bathtub in his room and kissed their head while his tail turned on the water.
Once the tub was filled, he lowered MC into the water, then himself. Hugging them from behind, he inhaled their scent. His voice was quiet and comforting when he spoke. “You did so well, MC. Are you feeling okay?” They nodded, and he hummed. “Good. You can relax for me now, my sweet Henry. Let me take care of you.” He massaged their muscles while he used a soft washcloth to clean them with his special Ruri-chan soap. They leaned into his touches and he got to work massaging shampoo onto their scalp. “So good for me, MC. How lucky I am to have you.” He rinsed them off and pressed his lips to their forehead.
“I’m going to lift us out and dry you off now. Okay, sweetheart?” MC blearily nodded, tired and just about melting in his careful hands. Levi used his fluffiest towel on them before carrying them to his bed, ensuring that they were comfortable with his softest limited-edition pillows and blankets. After taking a moment to check if there was anything else that they wanted or needed, he crawled under the blankets with them, kissing the top of their head before settling in. He cuddled his precious MC until they both fell asleep.
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Asmo winced through his beauty routine, despite his best efforts at a smooth poker face to avoid wrinkles. Mammon rocked back and forth in the corner, hands over his ears. It was exciting at first. The two had shared quite the giggle listening to what Levi and MC got up to with their help. Not anymore. It wasn’t funny anymore. MC so owed them after this. They were so loud. Asmo regretted his choices. Mammon regretted his choices. At least there was company in misery.
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Text
Angel (Pt. 4)
Harry Styles x Reader
A/N: This one was inspired by Harry’s song Only Angel. It’s five parts in total. If you like it, be sure to give it a reblog and check out the other parts linked below. Thanks, and enjoy <3
Warnings: Slight jealousy, some making out. Swearing. It’s long. Seriously. 
Masterlist
Part 1  -  Part 2  -  Part 3  -  Part 5
Forty-five minutes later, I was all dolled up and in a cab on the way to the house where the after party was being held. Now that the situation with Harry was resolved, I was free to relax and fully enjoy my accomplishment. I had been working toward becoming a Victoria’s Secret Angel since I was eleven years old, and now, eleven years later, I finally was. 
Giddy with excitement, I pulled out my phone to text Harry and tell him that I was close. He replied almost instantly, like he’d been waiting for me.
‘Good. I’ll be out back by the pool.’
I nodded to myself and put my phone away since the cab was pulling up to the house. Thanking and paying the cabbie, I stepped out. My stomach filled with nervous excitement, and I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the bustling house.
It was a modern two story with large windows that allowed me to see the party in full swing inside. Music could be heard thumping at the windows, and people could be seen walking around and mingling. I caught sight of Elsa on the second floor, looking out the window at the city, and waved when she saw me. Her face split into a wide smile, to which I smiled back, and she motioned for me to meet her downstairs. Nodding at her enthusiastically, I made my way to the large front door.
The music was louder inside, the deep bass thumping through my heart immediately. I smiled and waved at a few of the girls and other people I knew as my eyes searched for Elsa. It didn’t take me long to find her quickly descending the stairs, eyes searching for me.
“Elsa!” I called when I spotted her.
She squealed and rushed to pull me into a hug, “Y/N, you made it!”
I chuckled at her enthusiasm and returned her hug, “Ya, sorry I’m late. I had something I needed to take care of.”
“Oh?” she asked, pulling back to look at me, “Is everything alright?”
“Oh ya, it just took a while,” I said with a reassuring smile.
“Good, now let’s get you a drink.”
Elsa kept me close to her side for the next hour, insisting on getting some alcohol in me and taking me to see the other girls. Every time I tried to break away, telling her I was supposed to be meeting someone, she protested and demanded that I stayed with her a little longer. Knowing how she could get when she drank and not wanting to upset my best friend out of the girls, I stayed. But time was ticking and I knew Harry had to be wondering where I was, if he was still waiting at all.
Finally Elsa became engrossed in a conversation with some photographer, and I was able to slip away. I knew she wouldn’t miss me so I didn’t feel bad about ditching her, especially since I had Harry waiting for me. 
I moved quickly through the crowd in the house, making my way out to the pool. The view caused me to pause in my search for just a moment, insisting that I take in the lights in the trees and the fields in the valley below. Shaking it off before I could get too sucked in, I searched the crowd for my childhood love.
There was a makeshift dance floor and a DJ booth set up to one side of the pool. A large crowd was dancing, and I briefly wondered how all these people got invited before moving my attention the the couched and chairs around the pool. Some groups were smaller than others, and there were even some people in the pool, but I couldn’t find Harry anywhere.
Sighing, I moved closer to the dance floor, hoping that he was over there. After a few moments of scanning the crowd, I was about ready to give up when I spotted his soft brown curls.
I realized that the reason I hadn’t been able to see him before was because he was laying down on one of the couches that had its back to me. Now, I saw that his head was on the lap of one of his band members, the woman who had played the drums. In fact he was surrounded by women, models to be precise. I rolled my eyes at how the young women leaned forward and ogled him as he spoke. Harry just basked in the attention, the exact same attention whore he had been since we were younger.
As Harry laughed, pushing himself up and out of his bandmate’s lap, I considered turning around, going back to Elsa, and getting black-out drunk. Harry was the same as he’d always been. He had always loved attention, especially the attention of pretty women, and right now, he had the attention of a lot of pretty women. I honestly didn’t know how I could compete with that, and I was jealous. I was now willing to admit that I was jealous of the attention he gave those women because I still loved him, and because of that, I didn’t want to be sober anymore.
Just as I was about to turn around and go drown myself in a bottle of vodka, Harry caught site of me. His entire face lit up, granting me with a large, genuinely happy smile and a view of his dimples. Looking away only briefly, he made a quick excuse to his group and in turn earned a knowing smile from his bandmate. Then he was pushing himself up and practically bounding over to me.
I couldn’t help but laugh, my heart melting at his enthusiasm. He was like a big puppy, so happy to see his person after a long day away. I realized that I was that person he was so excited to see, but refused to think about what that meant.
“Angel, you finally made it!” Harry called over the music, engulfing me in a giant hug as soon as he reached me.
“Hey, Harry,” I laughed, hugging him back.
I could feel the eyes of the models Harry had just left watching us as we stayed connected a few seconds longer than appropriate, but I didn’t care. Harry’s hugs had always been my favorite. He held you so close and secure, you just couldn’t help but feel safe. His hug brought out all of the feelings I was never good at hiding and didn’t want to deny anymore.
All too soon Harry squeezed me tighter then released me, pulling back to look me over. He whistled lowly and appreciatively at what he saw.
“Damn,” he swore, biting his lip, “you look gorgeous.”
I blushed a little but smiled. Alessandra and Elsa had helped me pick this dress months ago when I was first told I’d be walking as an official Angel, wings and all. I was worried that it was too much, but they both insisted that I looked amazing and this was the perfect place to wear it. Now, seeing Harry’s face, I was glad I did.
The dress was essentially simple, all tight black material clinging to my curves and stopping mid thigh. The stunning part was the neckline. A black collar twisted around my neck then parted at my chest, remaining open in a deep V that stopped just above my belly button. A harness shaped chain of crystals held the two sides closed and wrapped around my shoulders to drape delicately down the open back. At first I was self-conscious about putting so much skin on display, but considering I had just walked a globally broadcasted fashion show in nothing but lingerie and heels, I decided it really didn’t matter.
“Thank you,” I answered, giving Harry the same inspection he gave me, “You look pretty good yourself.”
He took a step back and did a little spin so I could see his outfit fully, making me laugh. He was wearing fitted black jeans and an open black suit jacket. Underneath was a loose fitting sky blue shirt with little white flower-like symbols on it. The shirt was halfway unbuttoned, leaving his smooth skin and a simple silver cross on display. When he moved, the swallows on his chest played peek-a-boo through the opening. His short hair sat as messy chocolate curls, a perfectly styled mess. All in all, he looked every bit the heart throb we both knew he truly was.
“Thanks, angel,” he grinned.
“Of course, but that sure is a lot of skin on display tonight, Mr. Styles,” I teased, trigging on the lapel of his jacket.
Harry laughed, dimples on full display, “You’re one to talk. Aren’t you afraid you’ll get cold wearing this dress in December?”
I shrugged, a coy smile tugging at the corners of my lips, “No. I figured if I got cold it’d be easy enough to find a man willing to lend me his jacket.”
“You’re not wrong there, love,” He said, glancing around, “you’ve already got them all starin’.”
I rolled my eyes internally, knowing full well that this wasn’t even the most revealing outfit here. It was obvious to me that Harry was jealous, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me kind of giddy. Seeing Harry again and resolving our past was bringing up feelings I’d been burying since I saw pictures of him and Taylor Swift for the first time. I had missed him and all the fun we’d had together. I was scared to admit it, but I hoped that the way he was acting, his choice to release that song, meant that he missed me too. Most of all, I hoped he wanted me back too.
Deciding that teasing Harry was fun, and that I wanted to see more of his jealous side, I looked around, “Really, you think so? ‘Cause I haven’t had a boyfriend in a long time, and I wouldn’t mind finding a cute one.”
“Well I might know of a pretty cute guy who’s been looking for an Angel,” Harry hummed, pulling me against his chest.
“Ya?” I grinned as I placed my hands on his shoulders.
He nodded, “Ya, and right now he’d like to ask that Angel to dance.”
“I don’t know,” I teased, “if it’s who I think it is, this Angel might not want to dance with him.”
“And why the hell not?” Harry asked, pulling away in mock offense.
I grinned at him, disconnecting myself and preparing to run, “Because if I remember correctly, he’s not a very good dancer, and I have a reputation to uphold.”
He growled and lunged after me, but I just laughed and took off running toward the house the best I could in six inch heels. Harry caught me in no time, picking me up from behind and spinning me around. I squealed and giggled, drawing attention to us but not caring. Harry growled again, nipping at my ear as he carried me toward the dance floor. I laughed again, stilling in his arms so he didn’t accidentally drip me as he walked. 
“We’ll see about me being a bad dancer,” Harry growled, placing me down on the edge of the dance floor and spinning me around to face him.
I chuckled as I stumbled against him, “Whatever you say Mr. Styles.”
Turning back around, I pressed my back against him front. I took a second to listen to the music, letting the heavy bass take root in my heart, before I started moving against him. The music guided my hips, prompting me to roll and dip with the beats. Harry stood behind me, stunned for a few moments, but quickly recovered and placed his hands on my hips. Matching the movement of his hips to mine, he danced with me. With a smile on my face, I slid my hand up to tangle my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. He pulled me closer and buried his face in my neck, pressing a kiss there. I closed my eyes and basked in the feeling of Harry dancing against me. 
It had been a long time since I had danced with Harry. The last time was when I was 17, the same night we slept together for the first time. He had rented out the club with his bandmates and thrown a party. I tagged along with my brother, hoping to blow off some steam after a hard week, but never expecting that my crush would tell me he liked me back. I wore some skimpy shorts and a top, typical club attire, and Harry was pissed. He didn’t like all of the male attention I was getting, especially since a lot of it was coming from his bandmates. So when I moved to the dance floor and started dancing, he followed me. 
That night Harry was quick to press against me, immediately matching my moves and whispering in my ear that I was asking for trouble. I just turned around and asked him how I could get into trouble with him always around to protect me. After that we danced for hours, and at the end of the night he kissed me and told me he’d been waiting to do that for years. I went home with him for the first time after that, and even knowing everything that happened after, I’d do it again in a heart beat. 
“So,” Harry spoke up, pulling at my side to get me to turn around to face him, “still think I’m a bad dancer?”
I smiled up at him and wrapped my arms around his neck, “No, I never did. I was just teasing you.”
“Of course you were,” he huffed, pulling me even closer, “You always were a tease.”
I shrugged, “Your reactions are funny.”
“Hmmm, you think so, angel?” Harry hummed, leaning down to press his forehead against mine.
The music changed, playing the first slower song I’d heard since arriving. I didn’t recognize it, but it was obvious that Harry did because he smiled down at me. I realized why a few moments later when his voice drifted through the air. Rolling my eyes at his obvious pleasure over them playing his song, I allowed him to sway us to the beat. We danced in silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. I laid my head on Harry’s chest and listened to the words of his song. It was soft and sad, but still good. I began to realize that I had been missing out by not listening to his album before.
“What’s the song about?” I asked, propping my chin on Harry’s chest to look up at him.
“This one?” he asked as he looked down at me.
I rolled my eyes but smiled at him, “What other song would I be talking about?”
He shrugged and returned my smile, “I don’t know what goes on in your crazy mind.”
I rolled my eyes again and nudged him, “So what’s it about?”
“Just drifting apart from an old girlfriend,: he answered with a sheepish smile.
I frowned, beginning to get suspicious of his avoidance of the question. Why didn’t he want me to know who it was about?
“Which one?” I asked, pulling back to look at him better.
Harry averted his eyes but answered, “Taylor.”
I made a face, old feelings of jealousy and resentment rising to the surface. I loved Taylor Swift’s music, and I thought she was an amazing person, but thinking about Harry’s relationship with her still upset me. She was, after all, the woman I thought he left me for. She was definitely a sore subject. Clearing my throat, I untangled myself from his arms and moved off the dance floor. 
“Angel? Where are you going?” Harry asked, following close behind me.
“I don’t feel like dancing anymore,” I answered as I made my way to the back door, “I’d rather get a drink.”
He frowned, “I’m sorry, but I wan’t going to lie to you.”
Turning back over my shoulder, I shot him a small smile, “I know, Harry. It’s ok, I just need a drink.”
“Well, then let me get my angel a drink,” Harry said, taking my hand and moving in front to lead me to the kitchen.
After weaving through the crowd in the interior of the house, we made it to the kitchen. Harry didn’t ask what I wanted, but went ahead and made me a Malibu and Sprite.
“You remembered,” I laughed as I took the cup from his outstretched hand.
“Of course,” he said, leaning on the counter beside me, “It was the only thing that didn’t make you gag.”
I shrugged, no longer ashamed by my intolerance for the taste of alcohol, “It’s not my fault alcohol tastes so bad.”
Harry chuckled and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a call of my name from behind us. We turned to find one of my fellow Angels in the doorway, a large smile on her pretty face.
“Hey Romee,” I said, turning my body to face her more fully, “what’s up?”
She held her empty cup as she moved further into the kitchen, “Just needed a refill.”
I nodded, but didn’t say anything as I watched her mix a drink. Romee was a relatively new Angel too, having been added just two years before me, but we weren’t close. Ever since I had been announced as the newest Angel she had been cordial, but somewhat cold. I had tried to show her that I wasn’t there to replace her, but it didn’t matter, we would never be friends.
“So,” Romee said after taking a sip of her freshly made drink, “are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
I fought the urge to role my eyes, unsurprised by her request. It was no secret that I grew up with Harry, and it would be obvious to anyone who had seen us together tonight that we were close. It was also obvious that Harry was a very handsome, very eligible young man, so of course Romee wanted the chance to properly flirt with him.
“Harry, this is Romee Strijd,” I said, “and Romee, this is Harry Styles.”
Romee smiled as she extended her hand out to Harry, “It’s nice to meet you, Harry.”
“You too, love,” Harry answered, giving her a charming smile as he bowed slightly to kiss her hand.
She giggled and twirled a strand of hair around her finger, “Wow, what a gentleman. Where have you been all night?”
This time I did roll my eyes, taking a giant swig of my drink as Harry answered, “Oh you know, just looking for an angel.”
Romee smirked, taking a step forward so she could rest her hand on his chest, “Well lucky you, you found one.”
Jealousy reared its ugly head in my chest, flooding my body with heat and urging me to grab that bitch by the hair and haul her away from my man. But then Harry shot me a look over her shoulder that calmed me down. His eyes were playful, telling me that he knew what she was doing, and he wouldn’t fall for it.
“You’re right,” Harry said, smiling and stepping around her so he could wrap an arm around my shoulder, “and she’s right here.”
A smug smile slipped onto my features as Harry pressed a kiss to the side of my head, and Romee’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. She definitely wasn’t expecting that.
“I see,” Romee said, her features relaxing into an obviously fake smile, “you’ve stumbled across the newest addition to our ranks.”
“I wouldn’t say stumbled, more like finally found what I’ve been searching for,” Harry answered without taking his eyes off of me.
I smiled up at him and laughed when Romee just huffed and walked away.
Harry made a face at me, “Oops, did I just get you in trouble?”
I shrugged and turned so that I could wrap both hands around his waste, “I don’t care. The look on her face was worth it.”
He chuckled, leaning down to bump his nose against mine, “It was pretty great, wasn’t it?”
I scrunched my nose up and nodded. It was great to see him chose me over Romee. It was even better to hear that he had been searching for me. He may have thought I’d given up on him, but he hadn’t given up on me.
“So,” I started, my tone teasing, “you’ve been searching for me?”
Harry blushed but didn’t deny it, instead closing to tuck a piece of hair that had fallen from its place back behind my ear.
When he didn’t answer, I chose to keep teasing him, “So what is it about me exactly that you’ve missed enough to search for me?”
He rolled his eyes, “Definitely not how much you love teasing me.”
“Hey!” I protested, smacking his chest with my hand, “You like it when I tease. It means I’m giving you attention.”
“I guess that is true,” he conceded with a smile.
“You still haven’t answered.”
Harry sighed and looked up at the ceiling, “Well, let’s see. Your smile…” He paused to trace my lips with his thumb, “your laugh…” This time he tickled my sides, causing me to giggle, “your voice…” He paused again, a smirk tugging at his lips, distracting me from the path his hands were taking, “your ass.”
With that he smacked my ass causing me to screech out his name. He just laughed, letting me slip out of his arms as I pushed away.
“Harry Styles,” I said, hands on my hips and a stern expression on my face, “just what do you think you’re doing?”
He shrugged, still smirking as he took a step toward me, “Just answering your question, angel.”
I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest, “I was giving you the opportunity to be sweet but you ruined it.”
“C’m on angel, you know I’m just a dirty boy at heart,” he said innocently, still advancing toward me, “I can’t help it.”
Rolling my eyes, I took a step back, trying to keep distance between us. I knew from experience that we were treading in dangerous waters, and keeping our distance was probably the best option. Unfortunately for me, the kitchen didn’t agree, and the next time Harry took a step forward, my back made contact with the other counter.
“Shit,” I breathed as Harry crowded into my space, securing his hands on the counter on either side of me.
“You’re mine now,” he growled playfully, face only a hair’s width away from mine.
“Oh ya?” I asked, my eyes glued to his lips, “and what are you going to do with me?”
“‘m gonna kiss you,” he breathed.
He waited only a second to make sure I wasn’t going to protest before closing the distance between us. Our lips crashed together, each of us pouring years of pent up emotions into the kiss. Without missing a beat, I opened my mouth for him as I ran my hands up his chest to tangle my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. Harry moaned lowly when I gave a sharp tug, chasing me to grin into the kiss. This only spurred him on more, as he pushed himself against me harder and deepened the kiss.
I moaned when Harry bit my lip, and he responded by grabbing my hips and lifting me onto the counter. My legs parted for him naturally as he slotted himself between them. Now that I could feel his hardening member pressed up against me, I couldn’t stop my hands from wandering down. Panting against Harry’s lips, I stroked his clothed member once before gripping it tightly. He moaned again, this time louder than before, stoking the fire inside me. Matching his moan with a small whimper of my own, my hands scrambled for the button of his pants.
“Angel,” Harry moaned, his voice sounding pained.
“Harry,” I answered back with determination as my fingers finally managed to pop open his button.
“Angel, wait,” he said more forcefully this time, covering my hands with his own and stopping me from unzipping his zipper.”
“Why?” I whine, still trying to accomplish my goal.
Harry chuckled lowly but didn’t move his hands, “Angel, we can’t do this here.”
Frowning, I looked up at him with pouty eyes, “Why not?”
“Y/N,” he raised a brow and took a step back, “I really don’t think you want to risk someone walking in on us.”
With that minuscule distance, the lustful haze lifted from my mind just enough for me to remember where we were. My eyes widened comically and I cursed, causing Harry to laugh.
“That’s what I thought,” he chuckled, buttoning his pants.
“I can’t believe I almost fucked you in the kitchen of a house where there are at least a hundred people partying,” I blinked, still a little dazed from that kiss.
“Me neither,” Harry said, clearly amused as he helped me down from the counter and covered me while I fixed my dress, “I would never expect such deviant behavior from my angel.”
I rolled my eyes and slapped his chest, now fully back to reality, “Shut up! It’s not my fault I got carried away. I haven’t been fucked in five years.”
“Wait, what?” Harry stopped, eyes wide at my admission, “You haven’t had sex in five years?”
I blushed, but nodded, “Not since the last time with you.”
“Why not?”
I blushed even harder, “No one ever came close enough to you to catch my attention.”
“Is that right?” Harry asked with a smug expression, gathering me back into his arms.
I rolled my eyes, “Well that and the fact that I was always too busy to really look.”
“Well it sounds like you, my angel, are in need of a good fucking.”
I scrunched up my nose at his crude way of putting it, but didn’t bother denying it. Instead I said, “Think you could help me out with that?”
Harry grinned, lust lighting up his eyes, “It would be my pleasure.”
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tocrackerboxpalace · 3 years
Text
September, 1965
Summary: During a press interview to promote Help!, an interviewer makes his feelings for Paul quite obvious. Some parties aren't too happy about it.
“Now, I’m sure the four of you have been celebrating upon the release of your new film, Help! which recently came out here in the U.K. just over a month ago. I wanted to speak with you all about the film, the process, and the potential impact it could have. Now, the reviews have been generally strong, but many are claiming that despite its substantially more extensive budget, it falls a bit short of last year’s A Hard Day’s Night. Would you mind sharing your feelings on those claims?”
“Well, I’d hate to take this question on account of I haven’t seen either film,” came John’s reply first, drawing a thrum of laughter from the audience.
The interviewer (whose name Paul had already forgotten) spoke through a toothy grin, laughter bright on his lips. “You haven’t seen the films, John?”
A playful smile tugged at John’s lips, contradicting his deadpan reply. “Haven’t gotten around to it, no. Been busy filming some things.”
Another round of laughter. Paul felt a grin rise to his own face, knowing that John had good and well seen the films, and had rather liked them. He always found it intriguing to watch the show that John put on for the public eye.
“What about you, Paul? How do you feel about them?”
Paul tore his gaze away from his friend and flashed a bright smile at the interviewer. “Oh, I don’t mind about them. It was good fun to make them, yeah.”
“Do you feel like they captured your personalities quite well?”
“I’d say, relatively so.” The answer came from George this time, who began interlocking his fingers around his crossed knee. “You know, the films are full of us really just playing around and having a game of it, even with the more structured plots. Filming Help! was good fun, indeed.”
“We lot are a big fan of playing around,” Ringo added helpfully.
“Now Ringo, you’re more or less the star of this new film—if we can discount The Exciting Adventure of Paul on the Floor, of course. Was there any unwanted pressure there?”
Paul felt his cheeks redden at the mention of his slightly racy scene. He had already been uncomfortable with it, and the fact that it was receiving so much publicity frankly embarrassed him. He silently cursed John, the bastard, for his stupid ideas and his stupid way of making Paul go along with them. He caught John’s eye, who hastily looked away, suppressing the teasing grin that twitched at the corner of his mouth.
“—nothing at all, really,” Ringo was saying with a shrug. “I suppose it was a bit more work, as last film I got to wander about while they filmed me for a while and this one I had real big scenes of human sacrifice and whatnot. But no, I never thought about it as being stressful or more pressure.”
“Well, that’s wonderful, Ringo, thank you. Now, I’d like to circle back to something mentioned a bit earlier. Let’s cut to the chase: Paul, that scene. I’d like to know how much was really going on under that wrapper.”
A blush crept up his neck and he absentmindedly reached up to scratch his cheek. He forced himself to smile bashfully, subconsciously crossing his legs at the knee. “Well, y-you know…” He trailed off, not wanting to explicitly answer but framing the sentence in such a way that it was still suggestive.
“Aw,” the reporter gushed, flashing him a wink. “Don’t be shy now, Paul. I’m sure the viewers are dying to know as well.” The crowd hummed in agreement.
Before Paul could open his mouth, John shot a quick reply. “Now, I feel a bit hurt that no one has wanted to ask me that question.” He turned to face the camera. “I, John Winston Lennon, confirm on Universal Broadcast Television that in that scene I was wearing absolutely nothing underneath my clothing and undergarments.” He feigned a gasp, then exaggerated a grandiose curtsy as he momentarily raised himself out of his armchair. This raised another collective laugh. John was an easy fan favourite.
Paul suppressed feelings of gratitude. He giggled at the prospect of John confessing that to a real universally-broadcasted program, which, for now (fortunately, unfortunately?), was a thing of the future.
The interviewer waited for the laughter and scattered applause to subside before he continued. “Thank you for that shocking revelation, John. Though I’m not quite sure that answered our question…” The suggestion trailed off, and Paul realized that it was meant for him to answer. He was busy watching John after accidentally catching a flash of something in his expression, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Paul put on his best puppy-dog pouty face and blinked up at the interviewer through his lashes. “I suppose,” he started, intentionally producing a voice thick and coy, “there wasn’t much going on at all.” His mind barely registered that John was now tapping is foot anxiously, a habit that arose only when the man was incredibly agitated or stressed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw George place an inquisitive hand on John’s, hidden enough from the cameras for him to subtly ask if his friend was all right. John gave a curt and almost unnoticeable nod, his eyes darting from George back to the interviewer. Though unsatisfied with the confirmation, George let his hand apprehensively fall back into his own lap.
Paul noticed every one of these ministrations between them, feeling his heart warm at the thought. He knew no one else, not even crazed fans, would pick up on the subtle movements. The four were just that close, having an entire language of their own, able to communicate without even making eye contact. It felt nice, performing a television interview with over half the country watching and knowing that there were still things they had for themselves. Still, despite his musings, worry seeped into his mind as the significance of the interaction hit him. Was John all right? Paul tried to beckon John’s gaze with his own, but his friend simply started at the ground where his foot was beginning to pose quite the distraction.
The interviewer let out a bright laugh and leaned closer to Paul, if unintentionally. “Well, I’m sure our viewers won’t be able to get that image out of their heads tonight. I know I won’t be able to.”
Paul flashed an amused grin at the insinuation, watching in his peripheral as John crossed his ankles to stop his shoe from tapping, his lips pressed into a tight, thin line. A flash of annoyance struck in Paul’s chest. What could John possibly be upset about? Didn’t he realize that they were on live television? What did he have such an… an attitude for? He still wouldn’t meet his stare.
“Now, I’d like to touch upon the impact of this film,” the interviewer was continuing. “An article in The Daily Mail characterized Help! as a pioneer in the genre of musical comedies, especially with its Technicolor production, magical realism, and rather organic integration of musical influence into the plot. George, do you think that this film is going to be as historically impactful as some are proclaiming?”
“Well, er… I wouldn’t say so, only because I can’t quite know what impact it could have, as I’m not so much involved in the world of cinema. Personally, I felt as if our previous film made no industrial impact, so it’s a bit difficult to foresee this one going in a different direction. It's just fun.”
“Wonderful insight, George,” the reporter praised. “I’ll be interested to see which one of us is correct.” He flashed a wink, causing George to chuckle and respond with a bemused, “Yes, we’ll see.”
“John, I’d be interested to see where your thoughts stand on the matter. Personally, I could see you continuing with an acting, or perhaps directing, career far beyond the musical films. Do you dabble in the world of art cinema at all?”
“I suppose.”
“You suppose?” The interviewer looked a bit thrown by the curt response.
“That’s all there is to it, really.”
Paul didn’t think much of John’s acting skills tonight. Whatever was bothering the man was now evident for every eye to see, a change in his demeanor so drastic that Paul almost felt a chill come over the room. What the hell was going on with him?
The interviewer chuckled nervously and switched subjects. “All right, I’d like to shift a bit and discuss some more of the actual content of the film. Now, the scene in the bathroom—how did you all manage that?”
Ringo broke into a wide grin, and Paul matched his energy at the memory. “Well,” Ringo started, “We had to have our clothing stitched apart just enough to where it would hold on for the beginning of the scene, but easily tear off. Like in Paul’s shirt sleeve, they had sewn a bit of fishing wire into the cuff and snaked it through the dryer opening, so when they gave a tug the whole sleeve came flying off at the shoulder.” Paul nodded for emphasis as Ringo demonstrated then, reaching for the cuff of his shirtsleeve and pulling at it.
“Oh,” the reporter mused, “and here I was hoping it would take a lot more with it.” He flashed Paul another charismatic grin.
Paul had almost—almost—missed the slight eye roll that John gave as he began to chew at his thumb nail, another nervous habit he had picked up. Paul’s heart jumped a bit at the sight, followed by a pull of confusion in his stomach. Another look flashed in John’s eyes, longer this time. It looked like… anger. Paul was almost certain he had identified it when the look passed, and a sudden calm came over John as he regained his composure.
“Well that makes a pair of us, then, doesn’t it, mate?”
Paul froze. The words were light, but there was nothing friendly about the sentence that John had just spat out—the tone was salacious and determined, leaving no room for misinterpretation. His eyes glinted in a frightening mixture of malice and amusement as an awkward silence settled over the 5 players. George shifted uncomfortably and Ringo eyed the blinking red dot across the room.
Fuck, Paul thought to himself. They were live.
It had only been about five seconds, but they ticked away at what felt like a painfully slow rate. Paul’s internal clock supplied each passing numeric as the interviewer opened and closed his mouth a few times before speaking once more. Someone in the audience coughed.
“All right, well, erm—it has been a pleasure hosting you boys on the show, and I wish you the utmost of luck on the film’s continuing success and your further aspirations with the band.”
George murmured a light, “Very well, thanks.” Ringo nodded with an, “All right, Louis, all the best.” John said nothing. Paul said nothing.
Louis. That was his name.
The red light ceased blinking across the room. The interviewer got up stiffly and stalked off, bewildered at the surprise ending of the televised event. George and Ringo quickly rose to their feet and muttered a quick, “goingtothedressingroom,” scurrying off.
Paul suddenly felt furious with John, a white-hot rage efflorescing in his chest. The attitude, the behaviour on live television and in front of a live audience, the lack of self-control—Paul bit back an outburst in response, willing himself not to create yet another scene. Not to mention the whole issue of what John had actually said, and what on earth had pushed him to do so. “We need to talk.”
John shrugged indifferently, letting Paul grab his wrist roughly and drag him away from the armchair. Paul made a break for the nearest hallway, desperately wanting to escape what felt like millions of nosy and inquisitive stares, pulling John behind him. Eventually, he tried the knob to a utility closet, and the door gave way as Paul shoved John inside. He could no longer contain his baffled anger as he slammed the door behind them.
It was dark in the closet save a sliver of blue moonlight that creeped through the small square window. The light bathed John in an angelic glow in front of him, and Paul wasn’t sure if it was the shadows playing tricks on him or if John actually looked sorry. Paul’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, but John’s was steady, near unmoving. The man was incredibly quiet and still as he waited for Paul to speak first.
“What the fuck was that?” He hissed.
John looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “What?”
“What do you mean, ‘What?’, Lennon? Y-you acted like a twat. On live television. What were you so twisted up about, anyway? You couldn’t have just held it in? The interview was like five fucking minutes. Why couldn’t you do that? For m–” Paul stopped himself. He suddenly felt stupid. For me, he wanted to say. John knew how important Paul thought their public perception was. John knew how anxious Paul got before interviews, desperation and fear of saying the wrong thing crowding his thoughts. John knew all of that stuff and had still gone and mucked it up, perhaps even intentionally.
“I didn’t like the way he was talking with you,” John said quietly. “I—it was for you.”
A hand came up to pinch the bridge of Paul’s nose. He sighed as he rubbed at his eyes, a frustrated perplexity tugging at his features. He was embarrassed more than anything. Embarrassed at the forwardness of the interviewer, embarrassed at the scenes of himself in the movie, embarrassed at his reaction to what was probably just John taking up for him. He shook his head.
“I don’t get it, John. Help me understand why you would say that, why you would say it like that—"
“It was, Paul.” John’s voice cut him off, insistent now, and he stepped closer to Paul against the door. It took him a moment to realize that John was still talking about his intent. There was something rather odd in his gaze now, something almost… needy?
The pair were now only inches away from each other. Paul felt his nerves singing as he took in the sight of his best friend. A twitch in his chest told him that something had changed in the shared space between them. John’s eyes were half-lidded, and not in the vision-starved squint that was familiar, the deep amber bearing down on him with a heated look. Paul gazed at the way the man’s lower lashes rested on his cheeks, which were flushed slightly, pink like the wet bottom lip he had nervously caught between his teeth. John’s soft brown locks fell against his forehead, brushing his eyebrows, and Paul felt the sudden urge to reach up and tangle his fingers in it.
Why had he never noticed how beautiful John was before?
There wasn’t a good reason for what happened next. Maybe it was the moment of emotional vulnerability. Maybe it was their proximity. Maybe it was the tension. Maybe it was the way that Paul came to the sudden realization that John hadn’t been angry before, but jealous.
Paul tilted his chin down and kissed him.
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passionate-hedgehog · 3 years
Text
Impasse pt 2
Impasse is a 3-part series revolving around Reader entering society in Regency-Era London. Completely inspired by me binging the entirety of Bridgerton in less than 24 hours, Impasse will end with either Duke Damien Haas x Reader, or Courtney Miller x Reader.
Pt 2.
Pairings: Eventual Damien Haas x Reader, Eventual Courtney Miller x Reader
Warnings: None
Word: 2187
A/N: I know that my masterlist links arent working. If you try to use it, and things dont go where you want them to take you...well...I warned you. I’m turning this into a 4 part fic. There’s no way I can comfortably fit what I want into 3 separate sections. Part 3 will be out when this hits 15 notes! Thank you to everyone that liked and interacted with the first part. And thank you to the fans of my toher works. I love all of you omg. Enjoy ♥
Chapter Summary: The social Season has officially begun. Deals are being made amongst friends and old flames are fanning. Will there be any sparks igniting as well?
“What do you suspect he wants to talk about?” After the morning activities with Lord Haas in the drawing-room, Y/n and her handmaid found themselves busy with average daily activities.  
Caroline’s expression was nonplussed as she stared at the back of Y/n’s head. The women were preparing Y/n for bed. The latter was in her chair as the housemaid brushed through her hair.
“Why must you give me that look every time I open my mouth?”
“Why must such ridiculous things come out of your mouth every time you open it?”
They discovered Shayne in his favorite study, books littering the desk he occupied. Y/n would always ask him when he planned on attending university but the young man tended to reply with something akin to “that’s not for me”. The young woman didn’t understand. She knew how smart her twin was, how clever he could be given the situation. Mayhaps one day he’d see the things he could accomplish.
“To what do I owe this visit?” The fair-haired man asked as his sister sat at the opposite side of his desk. A rather thick tome set open before him while his right hand held a fountain pen to sheets of parchment.
Y/n perched her arms along the length of the armrests and sat comfortably. “I thought I might see what you’re up to. But I find that you’re doing nothing different than normal. When are you going to talk to Father about university?”
Shayne restraint from rolling his eyes visible as he went back to his books, and scratching at the parchment. “When are you going to talk to me about Courtney?”
“What? That has nothing to do with...Shayne. My favorite twin, you could be doing so many more things if you were off to study. Collegiately.”
This caused the young man to sigh. “Y/n-,”
“I’m being serious here, Shayne. You’re in here, every day, reading and writing. It’s almost a different book a week. Sometimes, your nose is in a book about far-off adventures in distant lands and sometimes it’s about the history and tragedies of the lands around us. Look that book right there.” She motioned to the collection of parchment before Shayne. “I gather that one is not Shakespeare. What is it? The history of France?”  
Shayne lowered his head back to the pages before putting his pen back on the parchment, not meeting his sister’s eyes. “Spain, as a matter of fact.”
Y/n held a blank countenance. 
“I’m trying my hand at the Spanish language. Does that quell your curiosity?”
Y/n smirked. “You’re just proving my point.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” The young man laid his fountain pen on the parchment and clasped his hands together before leaning forward. “I’ll talk to Father about university if you read and respond to Courtney’s letter..”
The young woman grumbled and stood up from her chair. “Suddenly, I have a desire for some poetry. Caroline, I’ll be in the library. I’ll call for you if I need you.”
The handmaid nodded from where she stood by the fireplace, her hands clasped in front of her as Y/n walked to the door. “Of course.”
Y/n turned one last glance to her twin before exiting the room and found Caroline in the chair Y/n’s ownself just left. The handmaid was smiling at Shayne as he talked. The rosy tint to Caroline’s cheeks as the man laughed sparked Y/n’s curiosity yet still managed to make her smile. It was cute if she had to be honest. The handmaid had the tendency, lately, to be quieter than usual. While yes, Caroline was well-mannered and modest, it was different when Shayne was around. Had it just been the two women, Caroline could be witty. Y/n enjoyed that in the handmaid. It was refreshing and reminded her of a long-lost friend.
“For Heaven’s sake, Courtney. You’re not even here but you’re still here.” The young woman fiddled with a woven bracelet made from brightly colored twine.
“Y/n?” A voice called from next to her as her hand was on the doorknob to the library.
“Oh, Lord Haas! I did not realize you were here.” Y/n peered behind her companion and to her own left and right, in case she missed any other person.
“It’s just me. And please, call me Damien. We’ve known each other since we were young, back when we had all of our friends amongst us.” The duke gave a gentle pleading look. 
“I was a tad cheeky back then. I wasn’t going to call you by any title.”
Damien cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “You’re still a tad cheeky to this day. Am I wrong?”
Y/n’s matched his smirk before opening the door to the library and making her way inside. A witty remark was caught in her throat when her eyes caught someone standing next to the nearest shelving of books.
“Court-Courtney?” Her hand slipped off of the knob of the door. “What are you doing here?”
The light-haired woman bit her lip. “I wanted to visit. You never responded to any of my letters. I thought...I thought maybe something had happened.”
“You...I can’t...Excuse me.” The young woman turned around in haste and scurried away. She found herself in the empty kitchen trying to breathe through what just happened.
Good going. You’re such a coward.
“I’m such a coward.”
“No, you’re not.” Damien had followed her into the cooking area. He led her to a chair and guided her to sit. “Some refreshment might make it better?”
Y/n watched her old friend as he went about collecting items. She noticed how at ease he seemed going through her icebox and cupboards. How expertly he sliced up fruit. She couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked in his livery, as well, but there was enough going on inside of her head. Damien approached the table with a modest platter and placed it in the center of the table before he sat himself in a chair across from her.
“I figure that some soft cheese might do some good as well as figs and berries. I hope they comfort you the way they do me.” He had gestured towards the food.
Y/n gave a thankful nod before reaching for a bite. “Thank you, Damien. This means very much to me.”
The man grabbed fig and brie, biting into them. “If you need to talk, I’m all ears. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course. But I’m here.”
Y/n fidgeted with a slice of fig fruit. She mentally weighed her options before speaking again. “I haven’t seen Courtney in over a year. We got into an argument...about the things she wanted to do and where she wanted to be in life. I regret it. I regret it every day. I let our relationship ...decay...because I didn’t approve of what she wanted to do.”
“She wanted to work with horses, right? And entertain? That’s where she’s been this whole time?” Damien bit into some brie.
“I was treating her like she was someone like me. Someone that already had their life plans laid out for them. She was able to choose what she wanted in life.”
The young man studied Y/n’s face. “Y/n, were you...jealous that she had such an opportunity to live a dream that you tried burning bridges with her? She was your best friend. That had to be a hard decision to make.”
“It’s about more than that. I’m happy she was able to live how she wanted to...thrilled that she got to work with her passions. But..I wasn’t there with her. She wasn’t with me. It didn’t matter what she was doing...I just wanted it to be with..with me. 
“I had this asinine vision that society would be in a different place by now. That two close friends could...be closer. And that I wouldn’t have to feel like I was left alone for the rest of my life. I see so many friendships for what they could be. The feelings that I’ve had over someone that will never be attainable I see in others. All of the time. Especially while I promenade! And it makes me sad for those yearning and it reminds me of what I can never have.”
There was a moment of silence before Y/n’s eyes widened in the realization of what she had just let out. “Oh my. I-You didn’t hear any of what I just said. Promise me!”
Damien laid a soft hand on Y/n’s arm. “I promise. I had no idea that you had harbored such...persuasions. Not that it’s anything you need to feel sorry about. You can’t help it. Your reactions, for sure, but...not for what you feel.”
“You, Lord Haas, will make someone a fine husband someday. Maybe even sometime soon? It is our season, finally, after all.” Y/n tried to hide her watery eyes behind a coy smirk. “Someone is bound to catch your eye.”
Damien breathed out before responding. “Someone already has, if I’m being honest. But maybe I’m far-reaching more than I originally thought.”
His words seemed to spark a sense of excitement through Y/n. She sat up straight and gripped the edges of the table.
“Who is she? Will you point her out to me while we promenade? No. I have an even better idea; can you introduce her to me at one of the balls?” Y/n was nearly on the edge of her seat. “Damien! This is exciting!”
“It’s not quite that intriguing, I promise you. Especially since nothing can come of it.” The man picked at the fruit on the platter. “But I digress. It seems that you’ve got your own sorting out to do. What are you going to do about callers if Courtney plans on joining in on the festivities this season? She may not come from one of the families but she has enough friends.”
“Then I hope she enjoys herself. For all I know, everything I felt could have been my very own thoughts and not hers. If she’s here to find a match, then let her. If she’s here to have fun, then by all means...I hope she has it. I just hope I can keep my heart to myself this time. I don’t want to get hurt again.”
“Y/n,” The man licked his lips before continuing. “Might I suggest trying to find out what exactly it is that your heart wants before you do anything else with it?”
The young woman topped her fig slice with some brie. “I’m going to pretend that you did not just offer such advice. Who would even think about courting a woman trying to figure out whether or not she wants her story to end with another woman? You slay me, Lord Haas.”
“I’m being entirely serious. Y/n, you could…” Damien seemed to pause before paying very close attention to fiddling with a berry. “We could stop your callers from coming around and maybe I could use a distraction. We could work together.”
“What? Like...you and I? Together together?”
The german-born duke hesitated before taking one of Y/n’s hands into both of his. “We could go to promenade as a match. And then to the balls, And the parties. No one would be the wiser. You could use this time to figure out what it is you truly want. And then who.”
The young woman looked down at their hands, hers fitting inside his the way she suspects other women her age dream of, yet, she wasn’t sure what it did to her. What he offered could very much help her, but what if Courtney got the wrong idea? What if everyone got the wrong idea?
“But what if it went right?”
“Hmm?” Damien asked in confusion.
“Nevermind.” Y/n shook the thoughts from her head. “Damien, I think...you may be on to something. You’re right. I...I don’t know how to be a...a wife to anyone. Let alone a man. And I won’t know until I figure myself out a little bit more. And then if this girl is running through your mind and you firmly believe that you can never court her…”
“Trust in me with this. I always thought she was someone I could never hope to marry, far too good for me in so many ways. But...maybe this will help me to see who else is out there. Maybe I’ll find my perfect match. And if we come out as a couple, it’ll provide good reason for the other men to leave you alone.”
“Too bad they just don’t leave me alone as is.”
“I believe Olivia said the same thing after she met Sam.”
“Heavens, that was a riot.” Y/n lifted her pinky to solidify the agreement with her friend. “Lord Damien Haas, I believe we might have ourselves a deal.”
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inadaydream99 · 4 years
Note
um... is req rlly open? if so, can i drop one for either hak/chanhee (you can choose ^^ tbh I'm in a crisis between both 😳) and if I could choose a genre, probably angst with a FLUFFY ending(?) srry, it sounds cliche but I love for those kinda things.
Hey, thank you for sending in a request! I thought I could use both Chanhee and Haknyeon in this oneshot so I really hope you like it! 😁
Accidentally Confessed
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“You what?” You stand dumbstruck in the middle of the room. All eyes on you, including Chanhee’s guilt stricken ones.
“But I didn’t mean to...” He desperately tries to reason, but to no use. He went behind your back, betrayed your trust. “Come on (Y/N), please stay. I said I was sorry.” He chases after you as you angrily grab your bag and storm off.
“No Chanhee, you betrayed me. My own best friend told everyone the one secret I trusted no one else with!” Your voice comes out hoarse, throat tight from using all its strength to hold back your tears.
“I didn’t mean to though!” He calls after you but gives up when you slam the door in his face.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you can fix it.” Younghoon approaches Chanhee from behind, comfortingly placing his hand on his friends slumped shoulder.
“Yeah, by tomorrow you’ll be best friends again I’m sure.” Hyunjae joins, trying to pick up the mood.
“No, I think I’ve really messed up this time.” Chanhee mumbles before dragging himself away, wanting nothing more than to hibernate and wallow in his regrets.
~
It’s been three days since your so called friend blurted your secret and you’re arguably even more enraged than before. The more you think about the situation the more hurt you feel.
You’d told Chanhee about your crush on Haknyeon in confidence. You even made him promise to never tell anyone. But I guess promises don’t mean to same to everyone.
“Come on (Y/N), please talk to me.” Chanhee whines as he follows you like a lost puppy. He’s been doing this all day, relentlessly pleaing for you to stop ignoring him. But you’re still so hurt you can’t even begin to think about forgiveness.
The only reason you were even in the same room as him is because you’d come over to visit the rest of the guys. Kevin had invited you over to hang out in hopes that you could amend things with Chanhee. But he was very wrong.
“Hey Kevin, you want a soda?” You causally offer as you open the refrigerator in search of an iced drink.
“Sure, thanks.” He smiles back at you before resuming his previous activity of scrolling through his social media.
“What about me? I want a soda...” Chanhee desperately continues his attempts at getting your attention.
“Whatcha looking at?” You blatantly ignore Chanhee, walking right past him to reach Kevin and hand him his drink.
“Oh, just some news. I’m trying to find some article that Haknyeon told me about.” Kevin beams towards you, nodding his head in thanks as you place the can down in front of him.
You try to hold back your faltering smile at the mention of Haknyeon, but Kevin still picks up on the uncomfortable laugh that emits from you in responce. It’s a sore topic, but you haven’t heard from him since your secret came out and you’re guessing it’s a sign he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings.
“You know he is here... if you wanna talk to him about it.” You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Kevin’s suggestion. He’s giving you that look that tells you he knows what’s troubling you.
“Even if I wanted to...” You raise your voice a little as you cast a quick glance over to Chanhee as he is sat at the opposite end of the table looking sulky. “I don’t think it’s the best idea.” You continue, letting out a deflated sigh at the end, turning back to face Kevin.
“Well, you never know.” He sympathises. That’s one of the things about Kevin that you love, he’s always so understanding towards everyone. It’s what always makes you want to seek him out when you need advice or comforting.
“Thanks.” You mutter gratefully before deciding that maybe you should be brave and face the possibility of rejection. No point letting fear control your life, right?
~
“Oh hey (Y/N)!” Eric greets you, ever the bubbly excitable person he is. “Guys, (Y/N)’s here!” He briefly turns to inform everyone of your presence.
“Hey Eric, is Haknyeon here? Kinda need to talk...” You awakwardly trail off. Truth be told you’re unsure of whether you really want to go through with this, but it’s going to happen at some point right? Better to get it over and done with that to let things go on for too long.
“Oh yeah, he’s just over the back.” You peak over to where Eric is pointing to spot Haknyeon laughing as he watches Hyunjae and Sunwoo battle against each other on whatever video game they’re playing.
“Right, thanks.” You take a deep breath, straightening out your posture before entering the darkened room. You feel Eric pat your back in encouragement, smiling at you knowingly.
“Um Haknyeon?” Your greeting comes out more as a question as you approach said boy.
He doesn’t hear you at first, the room being filled with so much commotion coming from the sounds of the tv and the shouting that ensues.
“Haknyeon?” You try again, this time speaking up a bit louder in an attempt to be heard over the noise.
“Go left!” He shouts, clearly completely immersed in cheering Sunwoo on. The room eruptes into cheers when Sunwoo wins, Haknyeon standing up out of his seat and jumping on the spot in celebration.
“Did you see that? Incredible!” He turns to you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders and shaking you lightly as he continues to celebrate.
“Can we talk?” You ask through a burst of giggles, his excitement making you feel more at ease.
“Oh yeah, of course.” Haknyeon chirps. “Is out here ok?” He asks as he makes his way out of the room, in the direction of his shared bedroom, with you following his lead.
~
“So, what is it you want to talk about?” He causally asks, giving you his full attention and waiting with a warm smile.
“I just wanted to address the whole crush thing that happened the other day.” You selfconsciously answer, eyes looking anywhere other than directly at Haknyeon.
“Oh right, you know I wasn’t actually sure if Chanhee had made that up or not.” Haknyeon lightly laughs, which makes you relax a little. It’s good to know that it hasn’t made him feel awkward around you.
“Well, he wasn’t exactly— I mean, he was kinda—” you stumble over your words, not sure of the best way to tell him.
“I like you too.” You freeze when you hear Haknyeon’s confession, completely caught off guard as you never expected him to say that. “I mean, the only reason I never said anything sooner is cause I was unsure if it was really the truth.” He continues, his smile growing wider when you fall shy from how flustered he’s making you, your gaze fixated on the floor and your hands fidgeting together as you fail to hide your smile.
“But I haven’t said if Chanhee was telling the truth or not.” You play coy when Haknyeon tilts your chin up gently so you meet his fond gaze. You wanted to come off all blasé and cool, but your game is given away when Haknyeon hears your breath hitch from realising the close proximity between your faces.
“Is that so?” He lightheartedly jokes, not phased in the slightest by your statement; the fact your face is a bright red gives everything away.
By this point you’ve lost the ability to respond, so focused on the way he gazes at you with such intense affection. You’ve been rendered speechless.
“Maybe...” you whisper, breaking out into a smirk to reciprocate Haknyeon’s.
“Well then, I guess that means you won’t want me to kiss you.” He pulls away, throwing his head back in laughter when you protest, your hands clinging onto his arms to keep him close.
“I never said that.” You pout, giggling when Haknyeon draws you in close and connects his lips with yours.
~
“So, when are you gonna tell Chanhee that you’re not mad at him anymore?” Haknyeon leans in next to you discretely.
“I know I should, but this is kinda fun.” You chuckle back, regaining your composure and hiding your amused expression when Chanhee bursts into the room.
“Ok, I’ve got your favourite drinks and snacks here. I even had to go to three different places to find the right flavour of chips, so please can you forgive me. I promise to never spill any of your secrets ever again!” Chanhee hurriedly lays everything out on the table in front of you while pleading for you to stop ignoring him.
You share a knowing glance with Haknyeon before letting the grin you’ve been holding back grow on your face.
“You’re forgiven.” You beam. “But! If you ever blurt one of my secrets again there’ll be no second chance.” You caution, laughing when Chanhee rushes over to you and squashes you in the tightest embrace possible.
As he pulls away from the hug he notices your hand interlaced with Haknyeon’s, sending you a sly look and you instantly clock onto the fact he’s noticed.
“You know, I think I’m gonna take some of these snacks for myself as a thank you... cause you know, without me you would have never confessed.” Chanhee cheekily smirks, slowly backing towards the table before quickly snatching away some of the food and rushing out of the room.
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mintymiknow · 4 years
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Winner | Lee Minho
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Summary: Minho would always be “winning at life”. He had everything, after all. But maybe “everything” didn’t matter if he couldn’t win over the person he liked the most.
[Racer!Minho x Fem!Reader] [WC: approx. 6.6k words]
Genre: Romance, fluff, slight angst(?)
Warnings: Slightly suggestive at the end
A/N: Wasn’t expecting this to get so long but it is a rather self-indulgent fic. You could just say that I’m whipped for red hair Minho. Also, I don’t even know if he’s a racer in that video but...let’s just imagine ‘cause come on. He’d be one hot racer. I don’t know anything about professional racing so...sorry if things were weird and inaccurate! Enjoy!
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Minho always won in life. Sweet and caring family? Yeah, he had that. Cool and funny friends? Oh, he had that too. Good grades, jaw-dropping looks, and breathtaking talents? Consider it done. He also had three wonderful cats. School competitions and contests…he won. Receiving honors as he graduated college? Yes, he’d be happy to show you how many awards he had. However, despite holding a good degree with exceptional grades, Minho wasn’t interested in having a career in the field of his degree.
He wanted to race - professionally. He learned to drive at a young age, and everyone knew he had a talent and skill for driving. He didn’t just want to drive to on long roadtrips with the squad - well, that would be fun, but he wanted more. He wanted to race professionally. So, during his free time, he’d learn how to race and practice with the help of Bang Chan - your older brother.
You were Minho’s classmate in a lot of your subjects throughout your college years, and when he found out your brother was a racer, he wanted to meet him and learn. Long story short, Chan and Minho became best friends, and the older was really excited for the day Minho would begin racing as well.
His parents were surprisingly alright with his career choice, but only under the condition that he graduate college first. In respect to them, Minho - with your support and encouragement - graduated with flying colors.
Not too long after, Chan put in a good word with his “group” of racer friends, and after witnessing Minho’s skill first-hand, they accepted him. That kick-started Minho’s racing career. He’d win race after race, becoming one of the youngest and most successful racers of his age. He’d prove time and time again how capable and skilled he was and had sponsors - and girls - fawning over him.
As always, Minho was winning in life.
But one thing - or person, rather - he could never seem to win over was you, Chan’s sweet and seemingly innocent sister.
His best friend’s sister. Sounded rather cliche enough, but unlike most teenage, pubescent novels, the best friend’s brother could not get the girl.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like Minho. It was the opposite as you liked him so much. You not only fell head over heels for his looks, but you were completely enamored by his surprisingly complex personality. Despite the amount of fame and popularity Minho had, the male never forgot to stay grounded and humble. He’d smugly joke around sometimes, but you knew it was his way of having fun.
So, if you did like Minho, why couldn’t he win you over?
It’s not that he couldn’t. In fact he won you over even before he became a popular racer. He won you over the day you spilled coffee on his white shirt, and though he was glaring at first, he laughed it off and ended up making a joke over it. He won you over when he smiled at assured you that you didn’t need to worry about a shirt he could easily wash and replace. He won you over when he offered to buy you another coffee while brushing away a tear that had unconsciously slipped from your eyes because you thought he’d be furious. He won you over when he asked if you burned yourself despite him being the one doused with the brown liquid.
You could go on forever about how Minho would endlessly win you over with the simplest gestures, but you never responded to his flirtatious advances for one reason: fear.
You knew Minho would always be popular no matter where he went. Even in his racing career, he was popular and winning at everything. You, on the other hand, saw yourself as just the “sweet and supportive” best friend. Minho excelled in everything he did, and while you did good, you thought you were nothing compared to him.
There were a million prettier, smarter, and talented girls than you. Would Minho still stick with you when he rose further into fame? If he continues to reign as the young racing champion, would he still want you over every other woman he could have at the snap of a finger?
You were afraid he’d eventually lose interest in you as he continued to endlessly rise in fame. Because of that thought, you couldn’t bring yourself to officially be “his lover”.
To Minho though, you were the greatest being to ever exist. You were stunning in his eyes, beauty rivaling the cosmos. He saw your heart as the most tender and caring one to exist, smitten by how much you showed your concern towards his well-being. But contrary to how people saw you - simply sweet, innocent, and naive - Minho knew you were sensible, a bit sassy, and definitely coy. You were smarter and tougher than you let people on, strong-willed, independent and determined in fact.
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Minho had yet another race and invited you to watch him. Since most of your mutual friends were going to be there, you decided to go as well. You did, of course, want to cheer for your dear friend.
Hours before the race started, you and a few friends arrived early to have a small gathering with your racer friends. There was a small snack bar nearby, so that was where you all went. Minho was with Chan and another racer - Hyunjin - when you and the other guys started to walk towards their direction. “Lover boy’s girl is here.” Chan smirks.
“She’s not my girl.” Minho raises an eyebrow.
Hyunjin scoffs before whispering, “Not yet.”
With a playfull roll of his eyes, Minho gently shoves Hyunjin which causes the younger to laugh. Changbin reaches the boys first, bumping their fists as he grins, “Good luck. Are you racing each other?”
You follow soon, going over to your brother’s side to hug him. Chan wraps an arm around your shoulder, “Yes, and I’m going to beat their assess.”
“In your dreams.” Hyunjin slings an arm around Jeongin’s shoulder as the younger arrives, “Should I remind you who won last time? Right, me.”
“We let you win.” Minho teases, and Chan laughs with him.
As Jisung and Seungmin talk with Felix about the pit-stops and car maintenance, Hyunjin, Chan and Changbin begin to place imaginary bets on who would end up winning this round. Minho then approaches you, wrapping an arm around your waist in a subtle manner. He smirks charmingly, whispering into your ear, “Who’s gonna win? Me or your brother?”
You giggle, leaning your head onto his shoulder, “What if I say Channie is winning?”
Minho feigns a hurt look, pouting his lip. “Ouch. That’s a foul, y/n.” he chuckles afterwards, pinching your cheek.
You bite back a giddy smile and wrinkle your nose instead. You then squirm out of his hold, holding his arm down so he doesn’t wrap in around you again. With an innocent and neutral expression, you tilt your head and say, “Will you prove me wrong then?”
Minho looks almost discouraged for a split-second, but he regains confidence and gives you a cheeky wink. “Do I get a prize if I do?” the male asks, bringing his hand to your cheek to caress the skin.
You hum, allowing him a second to do as he pleases before you gently take his hand in yours, drawing it away from your face. “I’ll think about it.” you chuckle, “Depends on how much you wow me.”
“I’ll take that as a challenge.” Minho grins, eyes twinkling with determination.  
You both stare at each other for a moment, eyes singing a million songs and sharing a million untold stories with a single gaze. You fear that if Minho peered long and hard enough, he’d see through you and catch on to what you really wanted to tell him. You’re too busy untangling your brain to notice that Minho had inched closer, fingers lightly dancing on the curve of your waist. When he makes one last step closer, you feel his breath on your nose, snapping you from your thoughts.
You immediately take a step back, flashing the male an ambiguous smile. Minho can’t decipher your expression, tilting his head as he bites his lip. You continue with your coy demeanor, clasping your hands behind your back as you hum, “Prove me wrong, Lee Minho.”
With that, you skip towards your brother, clinging to his arm as you tell him about the car ride on the way here, emphasizing on the part where Changbin and Seungmin wouldn’t stop fighting over the music.
Minho watches you, his eyes filled with two contrasting emotions; the desperate and saddened hues wrestle with the happier and admiration-filled ones, neither emotions willing to back down. It drives Minho crazy the more he stares at you, hypnotized by the melodious sound of your laugh.
He then excuses himself under the guise that he has to prepare a few more things for the race. You watch him walk away as a few girls and boys crowd around him, asking for an autograph or picture. The smile he wears is charming and charismatic, but you are the only one who can tell how empty it is.
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The race passes by in almost a flash. The crowd constantly erupts in cheers with a few die-hard fans throwing in a few curses here and there. You and your friends scream and cheer, waving DIY flags around.
Minho feels the adrenaline coursing in his veins, the speed and heat of the moment fueling his drive. He certainly can’t take his eyes off the road - unless he wants to die without winning you over - but he knows your eyes are watching his car in the sea of other racers. He can’t hear your voice with the loudness of the engines and the crowd, but he knows in his heart that you’re cheering him on wholeheartedly.
You always did; in college, in his stupid antics, and even until now.
After a thrilling competition, Minho emerged as the winner for this particular round, earning a roar of cheers and applause for the racer. He stepped out of his red and blue car, taking his helmet off to smile and wave at the fans. His auburn-red hair was messy, a few strands sticking to his forehead due to sweat, but he looked gorgeous as usual.
He smiles wider, waving at more fans who scream his name and yell things like “I love you Minho” or “You’re the best”. You felt proud, a sense of satisfaction and amusement filling you up as your friend was praised. Chan and Hyunjin run over to him, playfully rough-housing and laughing together as if they weren’t just competing a few seconds ago.
Minho breaks free from Chan’s hold to scan the crowd. Of course, he spots Jisung’s brightly blond hair first, but right beside him is you, the only star he wants to see in the universe. He smirks smugly at first, the same look he used to give you whenever he figured things out when you were studying for exams.
When you playfully roll your eyes and stick your tongue out, Minho chuckles softly, his smile melting into a much more gentle grin. His eyes continue to twinkle, focused only on you. You feel the butterflies attacking your stomach, so you bite your lip and smile at him shyly before sticking your eyes to the ground.
Minho doesn’t miss the way you reach out to pinch Changbin’s arm out of giddiness.
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As you gather outside the race track, a few news reporters and fans crowd around their respective favorite racers. Your other friends are waiting outside by the snack bar to buy drinks. You try to reach your brother, but Chan is swept away by a few reporters just as Hyunjin’s fanclub smothers him.
You decide to talk to them after all the commotion, but before you can step outside, a hand gently grips your wrist, pulling you back. You collide with a firm chest that is much too familiar for you to be surprised, especially when arms begin to circle around your waist from behind. You can already hear his adorable laugh.
You feel Minho’s chin resting on your shoulder as he cheekily whispers, “So, did I prove you wrong?”
You laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Yes, you did.” you answer, gently tapping his hands.
Minho doesn’t let go, so you have to wriggle yourself from his hold once again. When he gives you a confused look, you gently smile, gesturing around you, “There are cameras everywhere, Min.”
“So?” he chuckles, “Can’t this racer be happy his best friend is cheering him on?”
“You really think the media will just label me as the ‘best friend’?” you laugh, “Media loves drama. They’ll say I’m your girlfriend or something.”
Just then, a few of his fans giddily walk over to him, asking for a picture and autograph. One even asks for a video message for a friend who couldn’t make it. Minho happily complies with their wishes, wearing yet another charismatic smile for them. He looks at them brightly as if he were having the time of his life, but he wished you could see the absence glimmer in his eyes.
When the girls leave, the male turns to you, oblivious to the awkward haze reflecting in your eyes. “I mean…that doesn’t sound too bad, you know?” Minho smirks, bringing his hand to your chin, tiling your head ever so slightly.
You gently take his hand, pushing it away once again. You give him a sweet smile, shaking your head, “Min, you wouldn’t want me as your girlfriend, trust me.”
Minho nearly scoffs at your statement; maybe it wasn’t obvious enough that he’s been trying to make you his girlfriend over the past years. However, he doesn’t feel like making an emotional scene with so many people within the vicinity, so he just shrugs your words off with a chuckle.
“I have a feeling you’re just going to play coy with me no matter what I say.” Minho sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets, “So…I’ll just ask something else. Do you want to have a celebratory dinner tonight? You and me?”
“A date?” you raise your eyebrow, smirking slightly.
“Whatever you want to think of it, y/n.” Minho responds coolly, shrugging.
You chuckle, offering him another sweet smile, “I’d love to Min, really. But I have work to finish for tomorrow.”
“I see.” Minho does his best to smile brightly, but you can see the faint cracks nonetheless, “Maybe next time then.”
“Yeah, next time.” you smile.
“Do you…have a ride home? Chan, Hyunjin and I have stuff to do for a bit…” Minho trails off, ripping his gaze away from yours.
You nod, gesturing outside, “Changbin’s driving Seungmin and me home. The others are still going out.”
“Alright, take care, y/n.” Minho playfully salutes with a wide grin, but the gloomy haze in his eyes is enough to tell you that he was disappointed.
And so were you.
As soon as Minho says goodbye and tell you to take care, he turns around to walk back to the other racers, another crowd of people flocking towards him. You sigh to yourself, looking for your group of friends.
Sorry, Minho.
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That same evening, Chan got home at around 11:00-ish, surprised to see that your room was still illuminated by the lamp. He had gotten showered and changed, and you were still up. Curious, your brother gently went to your room, leaning against the doorframe, “You’re still up, sis?”
You turn your head to face him, chuckling softly, “This is the last company report I have to go through.” you answer, “They’re all due tomorrow.”
“Is that why you said no to Minho’s dinner date?” he chuckles, letting himself in and sitting on your bed.
You pout your lip, “Was that your idea?”
“No, it was 100% his.” Chan responds matter-of-factly, “He…wanted to talk to you about stuff.”
You look at your brother with a knowing look, “Chan, you know we’ve talked about this countless times. Stop encouraging him.”
Chan sighs, leaning back, “Y/n, I could be putting him down every time he wants to make a move, and he’d still go at it. You can’t tell a man who’s so in love to just…stop. It’s up to him when he wants to give up.”
You look down, fiddling with your fingers, “Is he really that serious?”
“Come here.”
You walk over to your bed and sit next to your brother. Chan looks at your warmly, but there is a sense of seriousness in his voice, “As your brother and Minho’s best friend, I’m going to tell you this. Minho has been dead-serious since your final year in college, y/n. He’s never been more serious, and you should know that of all people.”
You puff your cheeks out and let out a deep breath, “I do, Chan. I really do.” you look up at the pictures hanging on your wall, one of them being your graduation with Minho, “I’ve known for the longest time because I feel the same.”
“What’s stopping you then?” Chan asks, voice softer this time, “Minho loves you more than anyone, and I can tell that you love him in the same way.”
“I never accepted his feelings because I’m scared.”
“Of?”
You shake your head, smiling bitterly, “Maybe Minho did love me the most when we were in college. But that was when we were both just foolish young adults trying to survive higher education. Minho’s a big thing now, Chan. He’s a professional, famous racer just like you and Hyunjin. Would Minho still stick with someone like me? Would he still want me of all people with his prestigious status?”
“Are you implying that he’d lose interest in you just because he’s famous?” Chan raises an eyebrow.
“Maybe.” you admit, “Minho can literally have any woman he desires with the snap of his finger. I’m just…me.”
“And that’s the woman he desires most.” Chan says plainly, a small smirk spreading across his lips, “I don’t want to force you into anything because this is about your heart and feelings, sis, but think about it, ok?”
Your brother ruffles your hair and stands up, “And for the record, a number of celebrities and models have flirted with that idiot, but he still had you on his mind.”
“Get out, Chan.”
“I love you, sis!”
With a victorious snicker, your brother exits the room. You end up lying down on your bed, rummaging through your brain to process everything Chan had just said.
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Meanwhile, Minho got back home in his shared house with Hyunjin and Felix. The youngest was still up, watching a drama on the TV when Minho and Hyunjin went in. They greeted each other with hugs and more congratulatory words. The two older males showered and joined Felix afterwards, Minho temporarily taking his mind off from thoughts on you.
That is, until Felix asked a certain question. “Did y/n have dinner with you?” he asks innocently.
With that, Minho purses his lips and shrugs, “Nope. She had work to finish.”
“Isn’t that like…the umpteenth time she’s declined any sort of exclusive ‘date’ with you?” Hyunjin frowns in concern.
Minho shrugs, assuring his friends with a small smile, “It’s fine guys, we’re cool.”
“Weird…” Felix hums, “Y/n’s always gushing on about Minho.”
“She gushes over everyone. Just yesterday, she was squealing over Seungmin’s newest song.” Hyunjin points out realistically.
Minho nods in agreement, “Y/n’s…just y/n. She’s really like that.”
“Have you given up on her?” Felix asks cautiously.
“No.” Minho answers, “But a part of me is telling me to just stop once and for all. It might be for the best.”
Hyunjin gasps, deciding to tease his friend, “The one and only Lee Minho can get everything and anything except for the girl he likes? Big oof.”
“Haha funny, Hyunjin.” Minho laughs softly, throwing a throw-pillow at the younger male.
Felix cuddles up to the eldest male, looking at him with honey-eyes, “Don’t worry, Min. You’ll win this, I can feel it.”
“He always wins.” Hyunjin adds, giving a rather enthusiastic and excited thumbs-up.
Minho chuckles, softly, leaning his head on Felix’s, “Let’s hope y/n isn’t my first loss.”
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Approximately a week had gone by since the last race, and you and Minho were both busy with your own agendas. You had a hectic week in work as an influx of tasks had to be done in your department. Minho had mock-races with his friends for the next round of racing and had some press to do from time to time.
You messaged and texted - and perhaps called - each other every now and then, mostly to check up on how the other was doing, but conversations didn’t go beyond ten minutes. You watched his appearances on TV, half-happy and half-sad that he was surrounded by so many famous people.
He heard about your adventures - and misadventures - in the office from Jisung as you were co-workers. It made him extremely happy to know that you were doing fine despite the stress on your plate, but it also made hip upset that you didn’t tell him about these things. Not anymore, at least.
It was finally your day-off, so you were planning to spend your day at home. Chan had plans to meet with a few of his friends from his college, so you thought it was a “me day” kind of time. It did turn out like that as you binged on YouTube videos, cried over some drama on Netflix, and snacked on the expensive cookies your brother brought home the other day.
At around 5:30, you got a text from Minho.
Minho: Y/n, are you busy?
You: Not really, why?
Minho: I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me right now.
You: I don’t really mind. I did decline dinner a few days ago, so why not? What do you have in mind?
Minho: You’ll see ;)
You: Ok then :)
Minho: I’ll pick you up, get ready! I’ll be there in 10 minutes
With that, you nearly threw your phone across your room. Did you just say yes to Minho for the first time in centuries? Maybe that was an exaggeration, but it was your first time to say yes to a “date” with him; the last time was that one instance during your third year in college. Maybe Chan was right. Maybe there wasn’t anything to fear at this moment.
Whatever caused you to agree to Minho must have been intense because you were now dressed up and anxiously waiting for the said male to arrive. When he did, you nearly bolted out the door. Of course, you remained calm on the outside, refusing to break the composed image you had.
When you locked your front door, you were not expecting to be greeted by such a fine image. Minho was wearing his usual all-black attire - something he probably picked up from your brother - with his fiery red hair parted yet perfectly messy. Minho loved his race car a lot, but he did not like driving around for personal or everyday activities. So, he was leaning against his other car, a more sleek and chic black one. Arms crossed, the male smiles, “I’m surprised you agreed to this, y/n.”
You giggle, now standing in front of him, “Don’t get too cocky, Minho. This better be worth it.”
“Have I ever let you down?” he chuckles, opening the car door for you.
You look at him genuinely, the overflowing warmth in your eyes doing things to the male’s heart. “You know the answer to that, Min.” you chuckle before getting into the passenger’s seat.
Minho smiles to himself, shaking his head as he continues to find your little game amusing. Without wasting another second, he gets in the driver’s seat and drives away. “You are a safe driver outside the race track, aren’t you?” you tease.
Minho keeps his eyes on the road, but the twinkle in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed, “I learned from your brother, you know?”
“Chan’s driving is boring outside the race track.” you laugh, “He’s a super safe driver, though.”
Minho hums, smiling brightly, “Then so am I.”
“I swear, if you speed up unnecessarily or step on the brakes too abruptly, I’m jumping out of this car.” you continue to jest, poking his arm softly.
Minho’s muscle tenses up, but he makes sure you don’t notice the wild beating of his heart. “You should know that I’ll make sure to take care of you, y/n.” he smiles, tapping his fingers on the wheel.
“I know.” you hum, sinking further into the seat as a gentle smile splays across your lips, “I know.”
The rest of the ride is quiet as Minho concentrates on driving. You feel your nerves buzzing, but you’re glad the soft music playing through the radio drowns out the wild thumping of your heart. Minho hums along to the songs from time to time, his demeanor surprisingly calm compared to yours.
After a while, Minho drives up an uphill slope before reaching a flatter surface akin to a plateau. He parks the car there, smiling at you as he removes his seatbelt, “We’re here.”
You step out of the car as well, eyes scanning the area around you. Minho took you to a small hill overlooking the city horizon. Below the hill was a quaint garden, that trailed all the way up to where you were right now. The rose bushes lined the road that led to the highest point as if they were guiding visitors to that particular spot. A tree rested at the very top, offering shade for whoever came by.
You walk over to the front of the car, directly facing the skyline from where you stand. Your mouth hung open as you took in the view, wonder and awe evident in the hues of your eyes. Minho falls into step beside you, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Amazing, right?”
You nod, turning to him with curious eyes, “How’d you find this place?”
“Chan, Hyunjin and I used to go here when we’d stress about races.” Minho chuckles lightly, “We’d eat snacks, talk, listen to music and take naps here ‘til the sun went down.”
“Chan never said anything about that.” you laugh, shaking your head.
Minho smiles, “I go here alone at night as well. Mostly when I need to clear my head and all.”
You grin at your friend, eyes gentle as the breeze rustles your hair, “That sounds like such a Minho thing to do.”
“You know me too well.” Minho smiles back, reaching a hand up to fix the strands of hair splaying all over your face.
You avoid his gaze, gluing your eyes to the ground below. As soon as his fingers gingerly brush against the shell of your ear, your nerves buzz once more. When Minho suddenly cups your face, your heart nearly drops right then and there.
Minho is honestly surprised you haven’t pushed his hand away like you’d always do, so he wasn’t sure if he was doing something right…or terrifyingly wrong. But when he senses the subtle movement of your head melting into his touch, a rush of confidence fills his veins.
Moving his hand down to your jaw, then shoulders, down your arm in an agonizingly slow pace, and finally tangling your fingers with his, he leads you to the hood of his car, sitting down on it with you beside him.
“I brought you here because I wanted to talk to you.”
You hum, nodding gently as you feel your voice shrinking, “About?”
Minho plays with your fingers, but the gaze he throws in your direction is filled with a serious passion. “I don’t know if it’s been obvious for you, but I like you. I really, really like you.” he says directly, refusing to break the stare, “I’ve tried so many times to make it obvious or to make you see how much I wanted you but…”
Your heart breaks at the confused and lost look that flickers in his eyes. It takes Minho a second or two to piece his thoughts and words together, and when he finally does, he offers a slightly more bitter smile, “…but I don’t think I could get my message across. Or maybe I have, but it just really won’t work.”
“Minho…”
“So please, y/n, tell me.” Minho looks at you, his expression more pleading now, “Please tell me once and for all - no coy jokes or ambiguous words - if you really don’t want this. I’ll respect your decision and feelings and stop chasing after you. I’ll draw that boundary and stay your best friend if that’s what you really want.”
“But please,” Minho offers another smaller smile, “you have to tell me now before I break myself from trying too much.”
“Minho, it’s not like that.” you look down at your intertwined fingers, “It’s just…do you really want me of all people? Do you really want to like me? Do you want to waste your feelings and time on me?”
“Waste?” Minho can’t believe what he’s hearing, leaning closer as his other hand cups your cheek, “Y/n, why would you think or say that?”
“A winner like you shouldn’t be with someone like…me.” you confess.
“And why is that?” Minho asks in confusion, truly baffled by the fact that you think so lowly of yourself.
You give him a gentle smile, eyes radiating a warmth like no other. “I like you, Minho. Trust me, I really do, ever since we were sharing classes and whatnot. I had a small wish that you’d feel the same, and whenever you flirted with me, small sparks would always give me hope that my wish would come true. Until you became this amazing racer whom the world seemed to love so much. I’m afraid, Minho.”
Minho shakes his head, “Y/n, it doesn’t matter what I am or what the world thinks I am. Why would that scare you?”
“You’ve always been the popular kid who had everything. At first, I thought that didn’t matter because you were - and are - a very genuine person. But I couldn’t stop thinking that as you grew in popularity with all this racing, would it still be me? Like I told my brother, we were just young adults trying to get through college.”
You admit your insecurities with a nervous smile, “You’re up there now, Min. A professional, famous racer. Would you still want me of all people? You’re in a pretty high status now, and I’m just the best friend who works in a company’s financial department and finds time to support from the side.”
“So what?” Minho asks rather sternly, his eyebrows raised, “You think I really care about all that?”
“Someone like you can just snap a finger or say a name and you’d literally have any woman by your side.” you say, tone almost too bitter for Minho’s liking, “Chan keeps telling me that it’s always me, I’m always on your mind. But that can all change when you meet someone much more your speed, Min. That’s why I never responded to your advances.”
Your words sink in, and Minho still can’t comprehend how you’d think that way. Not when he’s had his eyes on you from start to finish. Only you. Seeing your usually cheerful exterior crumbling away with the wind breaks his heart, and he wants nothing but to console and assure you that he’d pick you in a heartbeat.
He wants you to believe him.
“Y/n, look at me.” he whispers, tenderly placing a finger on your chin to make you look at him, “You guys would always tease me for winning at life…for having everything anyone has ever wanted. But the truth is, I don’t. I’m happy for the success, but it’s nothing if I don’t have you. I feel empty every time I win a race and see you walking away from me. I talk with so many people on a daily basis, but none of them make me as happy as you do.”
Minho sees the crystal-like tears forming in your eyes, so he offers you a gentle smile, cupping your face with both his hands, “Forget that I said I liked you. I don’t.” he gets up from the car hood, now standing as he pulls you up on your feet as well, “I love you. I love you more than anyone, and I’ve never been more serious in my life when I say this.”
By now, the tears have cascaded down your cheeks, staining your skin with wet marks. You breathe out, puffing your cheeks at the male’s words. “I love you too, Min. I do, I do, I do. I just don’t want to end up on the losing side when the day comes that you find someone better.”
“That’s not happening.” Minho says boldly, his voice full of confidence, “You’re already the best, and no one can compare to you. You hear me? You are the best of the best. I don’t want anyone but you. You’ve been my goal and my star from the start, y/n.”
You’re much too overwhelmed to respond, allowing the tears to flow freely. Minho lightly chuckles at your flustered state, using his thumb to wipe the tears away. “I love you, y/n.” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours.
You take a deep breath, composing yourself from all the crying. Finally, you smile back, laughing at your self before nodding a few times, “I love you too, Min. I really do.”
The sun has completely set, darkness painting the night sky as stars glimmer across. The moon shines above the two of you as another cool breeze kisses your skin. Minho presses a chaste kiss on your lips and nose, circling his arms around your waist as he steps back to sit on the hood of his car with you between his legs. You see galaxies in his eyes as he whispers, “It will always be you, y/n. Don’t ever forget that.”
“Ok.” you smile gently, brushing your nose against his before you bury your face against the crook of his neck, giggling softly.
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The second round of the race began and went by in a flash, the usual shenanigans taking place. The usual screams, cheers, and curses from the crowd filled the atmosphere as the last lap went by. Last round, Minho won, but this round, Chan won by a split second.
The racers all made it to the finish line, getting out of their cars to wave at the crowd and congratulate each other. Minho, Hyunjin, and Chan rough-housed as usual, earning a few laughter from you and your friends.
Afterwards, Hyunjin went over to Seungmin and Jeongin, taking advantage of the fact that his fanclub wasn’t following him. The other racers were being interviewed by reporters, so you squiggled through to hug your brother. Chuckling, Chan ruffles your hair, “Your brother beat your boyfriend. You really happy about that?”
“I was actually rooting for Hyunjin.” you tease, “Too bad.”
Chan grins, pinching your cheek, “Ok, you’re not getting any cake if I bring any home tonight.”
“I’m kidding!” you laugh, slapping his arm, “Congratulations, dear brother!”
The male smirks before breaking into a dorkier chuckle, “Thanks sis.”
After a little more chatter, Chan tells you that Minho was most probably in his designated garage for the tournament, checking on his car. Telling him you’d see him at home later, Chan teases that you’d probably end up in Minho’s house tonight. With one more wave, you excuse yourself and head to Minho’s garage.
You aren’t surprised to see that the media and some fans are already there. Some reporters are interviewing him, but after a few more minutes, they finish and begin to leave the area. As soon as the garage is empty with just you and Minho left, you quietly sneak up on the male who was now admiring his car. You surprise him with a hug from behind, giggling when Minho slightly jolts in surprise.
You both end up laughing at his reaction, swaying from side to side. Minho then turns around so he can face you, holding you close. “Did you congratulate Chan first?” he asks with a smile.
You nod, “Yup! And now I’m here to congratulate you.”
“Thanks babe.” Minho chuckles, tapping your nose, “Any plans tonight?”
“Well, if you have no plans, I’ll just go with Chan.” you reply, shrugging. “I think my brother’s going home early today.”
Minho smirks, fingers dancing along the curve of your waist, “I didn’t win this round, but you still kind of owe me a date because you declined my invitation back when I did win.”
You hum, tilting your head innocently, “What did you have in mind, then? Fancy restaurants aren’t exactly my thing, you know?”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Minho says, “How about…we drop by our favorite cafe? The one from when we were staying up late for finals.”
“Sounds great.” you nod in approval.
“But first…” Minho’s voice trails off, but the mischievous speck in his eyes tells you everything else.
You laugh softly when Minho carefully guides you to his car, lifting you so that you were now sitting on the hood. He accommodates himself between your legs with a chuckle. Not a moment later, his lips are on yours, kissing you deeply. You hum at the sensation, dragging your hands from him shoulders to his chest before fumbling with the zipper of his racing suit. You zip it down, revealing the black shirt underneath.
The male decides to tease a little, pulling away from the kiss just to snicker, “Were you hoping to see some skin there, hmm? Y/n?” he winks, “Nice try.”
You playfully scoff, mirroring his cheeky smirk, “Doesn’t matter.”
You tug at the neckline of his shirt, pulling him closer as your fingers rake through his fiery hair. Minho doesn’t hesitate to latch his lips onto the slope of your neck, peppering the skin with soft kisses and feather-light nibbles.
He pulls away again to look into your eyes, erupting into a giddy grin as he locks his gaze with yours. You giggle, dragging your finger along the bridge of his nose. “If anyone’s the winner here, it’s me. I’m the biggest winner, not you.” you chuckle.
“Why?” Minho goes along, his smile sweet yet playful.
“Because you chose me.” you hum contentedly, snaking your arms around his neck, “Lee Minho chose me, and I couldn’t be happier.”
Minho chuckles airily, shaking his head, “My biggest achievement isn’t my good grades or rocketing career. It’s you, y/n. Having and loving you is my biggest achievement, so who’s the real winner now?”
“Shut up.”
“Gladly.”
With that, Minho presses a deeper kiss to your lips. One arm wraps around your waist as the other one rests at the back of your neck, tilting and angling your head for more access. Your breaths mingle with each other, becoming one just as your lips mold together in perfection, hearts beating in unison.
Minho was always winning in life, and right now, he could truly agree to that statement.
To Minho, you were his biggest goal. Nothing mattered if he didn’t have you. Through the ups and downs, you were there. You cared for him like a genuine friend. You truly were the best thing that happened to him.
So in the end, Minho certainly was the biggest winner because he had you.
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