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mc-lukanette · 3 years

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do you have any lukanette ideas with chat/adrien salt? the newest episode reignited my annoyance towards him and his stans acting like he didn’t do anything wrong is not helping. i mean, flirting with ladybug while he’s dating kagami? getting excited over a possible akumatization?? and since i know that behavior won’t be addressed bc adrien is “perfect” and “the love square is endgame” therefore he gets a pass for any bad behavior, i was hoping for some fanmade salt (and lukanette is always a great addition to any story)

I can appreciate how starved you guys are to hear me salt on this blog.

But yeah, I came up with something considering that quite a bit of Chat’s behavior happens before Truth appears in “Lies.”

So hear me out--

Truth is a threat, considering that Luka is the only hero outside of Ladybug intended to be a planner. All others take orders directly from Ladybug herself, but Viperion could plan on his own.

This means that Truth realizes quickly that his strategy of asking for the heroes’ identities isn’t going to work because they’ll shout over him every time. He has to get creative and comes up with the idea to divide the heroes.

He comments on their teamwork, perhaps saying vaguely about how their teamwork can’t outmatch his and Pharo’s. Chat obviously takes the bait, talking on and on about how he and Ladybug are the best team and that they’re made for each other.

“Really?” Truth asks casually. “You’ve never done anything against her?”

Chat Noir responds, his white lips moving to say, “Of course I have!”

Ladybug gapes, and Chat looks calm for a second before his eyes immediately widen in panic.

He tries to say that it’s not what he means, but Truth’s power is active, so he just blurts out, “That’s exactly what I mean!”

He tries to cover his mouth with his non-Cataclysm hand, but gets shot by Pharo.

“I told Theo Barbot that we were dating and it got him akumatized!”

“You did what?!” Ladybug asks, having never heard this before.

Chat doesn’t stop - he can’t - and his mouth keeps moving. He admits that he sacrifices himself because he knows it won’t matter since Ladybug will fix it, and it means he’ll always leave an impression on her. He admits that he didn’t care when Nadja or Alya were egging on the LadyNoir ship because he feels like Ladybug will come around eventually. He admits that he doesn’t take her seriously when she goes off on him because “she’s cute when she’s angry.” He admits that he wanted an akuma to happen even though he knew Ladybug was busy, just because he wanted to spend time with her. He admits to telling his kwami he’d quit while Paris was underwater if he didn’t spill what Ladybug was hiding.

Honestly, even Truth at this point is like, “man I wanted to divide your teamwork, not your entire relationship.”

Ladybug eventually manages to snap out of her trance and deal with the whole situation (mostly by herself), but the damage is done. Even after the akuma has been purified and Truth turns back into Luka, Chat’s words linger and Ladybug ignores him.

“Are you okay, Luka?”

“Huh? Ah, yeah, thanks...”

Chat is awkwardly standing nearby, his tail in both hands as he fiddles with it. “So--ah... Bugaboo--”

“Don’t,” Ladybug cuts in, not even looking at him. “Is that why you use that nickname when I’m mad? To butter me up? Try to earn points? Do you think it’s funny?”

“No, no!” He waves his hands frantically. “It’s not--”

“See, the thing is that now I won’t know whether you’re lying or not,” she points out, the situation feeling all to familiar to when Tikki lied to her, only this was worse. She honestly wanted to trust Chat Noir; he was her partner, irreplaceable in the sense that he was there from the start.

But maybe not irreplaceable elsewhere.

“I wouldn’t lie to you!” he swears.

“But you’ll keep things from me,” she counters. She sighs, gently taking Luka’s hand and helping him stand, then addressing him as she says, “I’ll take you home, alright?”

Luka’s gaze briefly flickers between the two of them, but he asks no questions and nods. “Thank you.”

She guides him up the staircase to take him up to the balcony, Chat Noir rushing over to stand at the bottom of the steps.

“M’lady--!”

Ladybug turns to him with a silencing glare. “I really don’t want to be around you right now. We’ll talk later when I’m ready.”

(He’s going to be in for a long talk when they finally meet back up again, and suddenly, he isn’t so eager for an akuma to come rushing by to force them to come back together as a team.)

And with that, Ladybug goes up to the balcony, takes Luka in her arms, and leaves. Things are quiet at first, her taking in a few breaths of the night air as she tries to relax.

The past few days had been a mess, and that was putting it lightly. The kwami, dating, the akuma (that Chat Noir had apparently been soooo excited about), and now this big revelation. The stress must show on her face too, as she can occasionally feel Luka’s concerned gaze on her.

In a way, it’s nice, just having her boyfriend care like this, even when she’s in a mask. He’d put up with way more for her than she felt like he should’ve, and she knew that he’d disagree if she even dared to voice that thought.

Without really thinking, she starts talking to him. She talks about Ladybug, about everything; being thrown into this life that she didn’t ask for, and being happy to save Paris but sad at the emotional toll it takes. She tells him about all the friends who tease her for her lateness, and while it might’ve been funny at first - she was genuinely absent-minded at times - it doesn’t become as funny when knowing that it was something that couldn’t be helped.

“...I’m sorry you’re going through that,” Luka says in an offer of comfort. He sighs, not recoiling from her but it feels like he’s distant anyway. “I know it didn’t help that I was akumatized. I hope I didn’t do anything to Marinette.”

Her gaze softens; of course he’s thinking of her again. It’s Luka, she has no right to be surprised.

Chat Noir, meanwhile, was just thinking of himself.

“Actually,” she corrects, something occurring to her, “I think you might’ve helped in your own way.”

Luka tilts his head at her, puzzled.

She changes course just slightly, specifically to a spot not too far from the Liberty; one that is very familiar to both of them, and she can tell by the way his brows raise that he’s surprised by where she’s about to land.

Underneath the bridge, in the spot where he’d initially asked her - when she was Marinette - where she’d always been going, just before he got akumatized.

She sets him down, then paces around to try and clear her head.

“...Like I said, I didn’t get a lot of choice in this,” she begins. “I tried to give my miraculous up once in the beginning, but there was so much pressure and everything was going wrong. Then, things would just--happen around me, things that I couldn’t really think of--and this is coming from me!” She turns to him dramatically, gesturing to herself. “I imagine things going wrong all the time and I still can’t predict when they actually do!”

Luka chuckles lightly at that, but otherwise stays quiet, unsure of where she’s going with this but giving her his full attention.

“Me becoming the new guardian of the miraculouses so out of nowhere... it was a lot, and suddenly I had a bunch of kwami around my room who all wanted to get into my stuff or mess around. I didn’t choose to let them out; it just happened when I was trying to see how the box with all the miraculouses worked.” She groans a bit, rubbing her forehead as she paces around again. “Then in came Shadow Moth and all the akuma showing up, and now I’m even busier. I can’t even make time for my boyfriend.”

There’s a flicker of emotion in Luka’s eyes at that, but he doesn’t say anything, though his fingers twitch slightly at his sides.

“Then--” She looks down. “--there’s Chat Noir. I didn’t choose him either; the old guardian chose him for me, and he wasn’t even fully trained. I was Chat’s partner and that was it; I didn’t get a choice to give up, it just... was, and I have to deal with whatever the relationship--” She makes a face at the word. “--we have is, because if something goes wrong then everything can go wrong, and then Paris is in danger.”

She shakes her head, realizing that she’s rambling. She continues staring quietly at the ground, then releases the tenseness in her shoulders.

“But...” She looks up to meet Luka’s gaze. “I did choose you, Luka. I finally got to choose something for me, and the only thing I regret about it is everything that I can’t choose. You chose me and I chose you and...” She almost laughs. “It’s weird that it’s that simple for once.”

He’s clearly pieced the puzzle together by now but hasn’t quite processed the result. She can see the whisper of her name on his lips and she smiles at him, taking a step back and spreading her arms wide.

“You’re my real partner, Luka. You get me, you care about me, and we’re similar but different and it’s great.” She swallows, feeling her nerves building a little but pushing forward enthusiastically nonetheless. “So I want to make a choice for us, because we trust each other and I want to give you something no one else has.”

Then, she closes her eyes, taking a breath and briefly tightening her hands into fists.

“Tikki, spots off.”

#((Is there such a thing as *too* many ''Truth'' fix-its?))#type: ideas #type: salt #other: ml spoilers #((I considered sending this ask to my other account but I didn't know if this anon followed me there.))#Flower Arrangement Shipping #episode: Truth #episode: Lies #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

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alicee1 · 3 years

Text

One more

Platonic! Phil x Teenager! Winged! GN! Reader

Warnings: injuries, mentions of being hunted, preening

Word count: 2.6K

Synopsis: After living outside on your own for two years without any proper knowledge on survival you set up camp in a forest beside a tundra. Crows find you when you’re hiding away from mobs in a tree and alert Phil that there is an injured winged child abandoned in the forest. After meeting you he takes you back to his cabin to teach you how to properly care for your wings and nurse you back to health. He may have promised himself no more children, but what was one more?

A/n: This was mostly written in a sleep deprived 4 AM haze of creativity but i’ve proofread it in a more consious state of mind and all so it should be fine now. Despite that i still believe that sleep deprived nights where half of the words that get written down are incomprehensible are the best nights to write creativity wise. By the way, I told y’all i write for other people except Techno, this is the proof.

Rules, Masterlist

The running water was cold but fresh against your skin, it gave you the opportunity to refill your water supply and the area allowed for a temporary camp.

You had been wandering the lands for a year or two now, but without any proper teaching on how to defend yourself and survive, you had to figure things out yourself.

It had been the hardest in the beginning, you struggled to provide food for yourself and without the knowledge on how to start a fire you were often too cold as well.

Since then things had gotten better, you survived mostly on berries, not being able to stay in one place long enough to start a proper farm and not skilled enough to hunt proper animals.

The reason why you hadn't settled down permanently was directly tied to your fear of people, you had been chased out of your home by hunters. Besides that, your stubborn nature insisted you would be fine on your own like you had been for the past two years.

Reality however differed despite your unwillingness to believe it.

The wings that sprouted from your back were coated in a layer of dirt, the feathers ruffled and out of place. Loose feathers still weaved through the others, some blocking the way for new feathers to appear creating a constant itching feeling between the feathers.

You had never been properly taught how to take care of your wings, two messy cuts in the back of your clothing spared barely enough space for them to sprout out. For over two years they had stayed unintentionally neglected, pressed against your back as you were unable to fly with them in their current state.

Besides that your diet of berries had left you starving, bones portruding from your skin as your unhealthy diet was unable to provide the nutrition you needed as a teenager.

Messy scars littered your body after countless of nights of close calls with various mobs. Lack of proper care for the wounds made them form into messy scars. Bruises and small cuts coated your skin although you had grown numb from the constant ache it resulted in.

The sun was setting now, forcing you to hurry as you cupped your hands in the small stream and splashed the cool water into your face.

It grew darker quickly in the forest as you looked around, trying to find some place, any place, high up where you could avoid the arrows of skeletons and the reach of zombies and other mobs.

A tall tree caught your eye as you hurried over. You climbed it expertly, many nights trees had been your safe haven to hide out in which had given you the necessary experience.

Finding a strong and sturdy branch to sit on, you watched the night sky. Dark bat like creatures circled in the air as their glowing eyes scanned the surroundings.

It made you press yourself further to the stem of the tree, hoping to stay out of view of the creatures as you sat hidden behind the leaves.

Your eyes met the beady black eyes of what you thought was a raven, or maybe it was a crow, you couldn't tell them apart. It sat on the branch to your side, another similar bird by its side.

It watched you curiously, cocking it's head as a loud screech left it's beak. More of its kind seemed to approach at the noise, joining the first on the branch as they looked curiously at you.

If you weren't stuck in the tree to avoid the mobs that crawled on the ground, you would've ran from the black birds. They were starting to freak you out a little in the way they all silently watched your every move.

The loud twang of an arrow breaching wood could be heard as your eyes widened, temporarily forgetting the birds as you glanced down.

An arrow pierced the wood barely besides the branch you sat on, making you scramble up higher as you climbed to the thinner branches.

With your movement the crows flew off, loudly screeching as they reached the close by tundra, pecking against the window of the cabin loudly.

Phil's eyes narrowed as he watched the creatures gather in large quantities, they screeched towards one another, filling them in on what they had seen in the forest.

Some flew off to check out the sight for themselves, others asked questions loudly to the ones that had seen it for themselves. It was a flock of birds that continued growing and therefore continued growing wilder with the second.

"Quiet" Phil spoke, silencing the horde as he continued, "what is going on?"

Immediately the birds started squeaking over one another once more, forcing him to silence them again before picking out one of the calmer birds of the flock and asked them to explain.

"So there is a child in the forest?" He asked as the bird ruffled it's feathers, fluffing up in defiance as it squeaked, "an injured child."

"An injured winged child!" Another from the flock squawked up, a silencing gaze from Phil quickly shutting them up once more.

He looked at the one crow he that sat perched on his windowsill, "is this true?"

"Yes."

It has been decades since he had seen another person with wings. Often they were chased down and hunted for their wings, using the wings for artificial gliders. He wondered if that was why you were alone out in a forest at night.

"I'll finish this first, then I'll check it out." Phil looked to the brewing stand that stood perched upon his desk, different ingredients strewn around and a book with his findings laid on the side.

"Keep an eye on them in the meantime." He side eyed Chat as he closed his windows against the chilling tundra winds once more, returning to his desk to continue his brewing activities.

Minutes turned into hours as the man got caught up in his work, brewing up enough potions to restock his chests as the morning rays of sun started to peek through the windows.

You had made it out of the night relatively alright, an arrow had found itself scratching your arm somewhere through the night. Although despite that you had stayed unseen by the phantoms that circled the night sky, which you considered a win.

Climbing down the tree once the ground had been cleared, you bid goodbye to the black birds that had stayed by your side throughout the night.

They however, followed your every step, making you grow more conscious of them as you sped up, hoping to shake them off subtly.

Their wings however proved more than capable to keep up with you, forcing you to break out in a sprint.

You had reached a small clearing, stopping in your tracks as a male stood in the middle of it. Crows similar to the ones that followed you crowded around him, some pulling at his green robe to pull him into a certain direction before getting swatted away by his hands.

His eyes found yours as you stepped back, instinctively retreating from the stranger cautiously.

The black wings that grew from his back put you at ease, knowing he was one of your kind. Despite that however he was still a stranger to you and you had never once met another winged person.

Your family hadn't been winged either, although they had kept you hidden from the world for the most of your childhood knowing the target your wings would make you.

When people had learned of your existence your house wasn't safe anymore and you had ran. On your travels you had heard of a place called L'manburg where hybrids of any kind were accepted amongst the normal people. It had been the reason you travelled in this direction in the first place.

He could easily see the fear in your eyes, as well as the mess of feathers that involuntarily fluffed up behind you. It only made the itching of the misplaced feathers worse, making you unconsciously swat at the limbs with your hand.

"Who are you?" Your voice was raspy, dark circles evident under your eyes as Phil seemed to realize the state you were in.

He offered you a small reassuring smile, cautious of his every movement so he wouldn't send you running. Lord knows you wouldn't be able to fly with the state your wings were currently in.

"I am Phil, it's been a long time since I've seen anyone with wings such as myself." He spoke, calmly spreading what was left of his black wings out behind him to show you what he meant.

Even to your untrained eyes it was obvious something had happened to his wings, although you didn't dare ask. The parts of his wings that had stayed untouched by the damage of the explosion however was well taken care off.

Carefully preened to a smooth and soft blanket of feathers that coated the muscled limbs.

They were everything your wings weren't, and immediately the idea of fixing your wings sparked a hope inside you. You hadn't flown often before but you had missed the feeling of the wind under them over the years.

You had known something was wrong with your wings but your lack of basic knowledge of the limbs hindered any proper care you could've given them.

"Are they yours?" You asked the older male, nodding to the birds that littered the small clearing of trees. His presence was comforting in a unfamiliar way, but it was nice nonetheless. It allowed him to take a careful step towards you as he turned to the small army of crows that had gathered around him.

"You could say that," he side glanced at the animals as their beady eyes watched the interaction carefully, "they showed me to you."

His words made your eyes narrow as you took a step back, "why were you looking for me?" The distrust in your voice was obvious as Phil tried to gain your trust once more.

"I wasn't looking for you specifically," one of the crows that had watched the ordeal from your side carefully hopped in front of you towards Phil, turning around to watch you as if asking you to follow them.

"they spoke of an injured winged child in the forest." Your hand found your upper arm where the skeletons arrow had pierced your skin unconsciously, the sting of the injury still present in the back of your head.

The male pulled a bottled red solution from his cloak, stepping closer to hand it to you as you allowed him.

Phil offered you a small smile, considering it a victory as he uncorked the bottle, swirling the deep red liquid inside for a moment before handing it to you, "it's a potion of health, it will help with your wounds."

"What do you want for it?" You asked questioningly as you held the bottle in your hands, looking at the older male now that he was closer to you.

A comforting smile formed on his features, "nothing mate, I'd hope to take you to the cabin where I and a closer friend of mine live. He's a hybrid as well, and I wish to help you."

Your eyes narrowed as you took a careful sip of the potion. The sweet flavorful taste was unlike anything you had tasted in years. A satisfied sigh left your lips involuntarily as the taste invaded your mouth and brought immediate relief to the ache you had forgotten existed and the pain from your recent arm injury.

It didn't take long for you to finish the potion, some of the color returning to your cheeks as Phil turned away from you, extending his hand in invitation to join him.

When you did he wrapped his sky blue cape around your shoulders, protecting you against the cold tundra as he guided you over the lands, back to his cabin.

The warmth of a fireplace hit your skin as you stepped inside the cabin, the comforting feeling of warmth had grown unfamiliar over the two years you had spent alone but was a welcome change.

Phil guided you to the couch, taking the cape from you before hanging it besides the door. He knew the health potion would be enough to help against the cut on your arm, what he was more concerned about were your wings.

"How long as it been since you preened them, kid?" The nickname rolled of his tongue without him noticing.

The clueless look you gave him should've said enough, yet you still chose to answer as you cocked your head, "what is preening?"

Instantly Phil realized what was the problem. You hadn't been unable to care for your wings, you just didn't know how to.

He sat down beside you, stretching out his right wing which had been relatively spared from the blasts of TnT. He showed the smooth feathers to you as you carefully traced your hand along it. He could barely feel your gentle touch as he explained what preening was.

He could see the light of curiosity in your eyes shine in your eyes as you had officially chosen to put your trust in him.

Moving to his small kitchen, he prepared a cup of hot chocolate milk. It would give you something to focus on if the preening felt uncomfortable, besides that, the warmth and nutrition would be good for you.

You carefully sipped the sweet liquid as Phil sat behind you, his touches feather light on your wings as he gently stretched them out to observe their state more appropriately.

A small shudder shut up your spine at the foreign contact, but it was a nice type of contact, something you could get used to.

His fingers started to rearrange the feathers, pulling the loose ones out and creating space for new ones to pop out. He found some childhood fluffy feathers amongst their larger and smoother counterparts. It made him question how long they had been there as he combed his fingers through the different layers of feathers, wondering if you had ever been properly preened before.

Where your back met your wings he could see the small fluffier childhood feathers that puffed up from underneath the slits in your shirt. They probably would never get replaced by the adult feathers and mark the transition between skin and feathers.

His touch was comforting, combined with the sweet liquid in the mug and the warmth that hung in the cabin, you closed your eyes in bliss as you settled into the soft couch. You sunk in between the mess of pillows, your eyelids softly dropping closed as you sipped the remainder of your drink from the mug.

Phil could see the way your body seemed to slack in the soft material of the couch, his hands continuing their work as he gently pulled the now empty cup from your hands and put it on the small table.

He knew that last night, especially in combination with Chat, must have been exhausting for you. You looked blissfully and comfortable in your sleep.

Phil only took a quick break from preening your feathers to drape a blanket over the rest of your form.

He had promised himself no more. After everything that had happened with Wilbur, Tommy and Techno he had promised himself that Tommy was his last.

But the way you laid so peaceful in your sleep on his couch, he knew he couldn't just send you away after nursing you back to health. It was obvious you had no one to return to and you were still a child. Whether teenager or not, a child is a child.

Maybe one more wouldn't be so bad?

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mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 3 years

Text

Beautiful* // James March

request: none

prompts: none

warnings: language, insecurities, mentions of acne scars, stretch marks, and feeling overweight, knife play, cunnilingus, smut, bdsm, bondage, spanking, thigh riding, basically extremely kinky sex

a/n: i’ve been really insecure lately so i thought i would write this to try and cheer me up! also the insecurities mentioned in this are based on my own, so i’m sorry if you don’t relate to this!

It wasn’t as bad at first. You could handle your feelings. Hide them away under a mask and pretend that everything was okay. And this worked for a while. You didn’t face them, and in return, they didn’t hurt you.

But slowly your mask began to break.

James never stopped having his dinners with The Countess, even though you’ve been together for almost a year now. And although you knew James loved you, you couldn’t help but feel that he loved her more.

Then you started noticing things about yourself. Little insecurities, which seemed huge in your eyes. The acne scars that littered your face. The stretch marks on your thighs and waist. The way your stomach would pudge out a little more than normal. It started to get so unbearable, that you couldn’t even look in the mirror without wanting to cry.

And finally, James was becoming more distant. In the back of your mind you knew that it was because he was busy. But you couldn’t help but blame yourself. You weren’t good enough for him. You weren’t pretty enough for him. He didn’t love you anymore.

After dealing with these feelings for a while, the mask you hid behind finally broke. The final straw was when you saw James and The Countess together in the lobby. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. You shouldn’t have thought it anymore than James being polite, but you couldn’t stop the sinking feeling you felt seeing them together.

You ran back into the elevator and went to the seventh floor. Once the doors opened you went straight to yours and James shared room, locking the door behind you. You pressed your weight against the door, and slowly slid down, curling up into a ball.

The tears started coming. You couldn’t stop them. Every single thing that made you insecure ran through your head. You didn’t have a mask anymore. Everything you were feeling was out in the open. And it was painful. Part of you wanted to die, but doing that here would be of little help.

Even though crying in a ball was slightly comforting, you were beginning to get a little uncomfortable. The floor isn’t exactly the best place to have a breakdown. So you pulled yourself up and went to the bathroom. You put your hands on the sink and braced yourself. Slowly, you looked up into the mirror.

The sight only made you feel worse. Your acne scars were still visible, but now your eyes were red and puffy. And there were dark purple bags beneath them. The makeup you spent an hour on earlier that day had melted away through your grief, leaving a black splotchy mess.

You grabbed a makeup wipe and quickly ran it across your face. You couldn’t bare to look up in the mirror once more, so you walked back into the room. You slipped your shoes off along with your dress, before searching for one of James’ button ups.

Even though he was partially to blame for your despair, his scent was still comforting to you. You sighed as you walked over to your bed, collapsing onto of the sheets. You grabbed a pillow and hugged it, trying to find some sort of comfort. It didn’t work, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let it go.

Then the door opened. James walked in the room, and headed over to you.

“Darling, what are you doing in bed? It’s the middle of the day.”

You couldn’t answer, since your crying had exhausted you. So you didn’t do anything. You just stayed in your postion, cuddling the pillow.

“Darling?” he asked once more as he walked in front of you.

He crouched down to meet your eyes, and his face fell when he saw you. You didn’t realize it, but you were still crying. He gasped slightly as he gently brushed your tears away.

“Dearest, what’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

Slowly you sat up, letting go of the pillow. You drew your legs into your chest and stared at the ground. James sat next to you and pulled you into a hug.

“Dearest?” he said softly, hoping to get you to speak.

“Do you really love me?” you said softly, too tired to talk any louder.

“Of course I do dearest. How could you think any differently?”

“I- I’m ugly. I have scars everywhere, and I’m no where near as beautiful as Elizabeth. And you obviously still love her, becuase you still have your dinners with her. And you never spend time with me anymore, and I don’t blame you. I’m ugly, and boring, and I don’t deserve you.”

James sat in silence as he though over what you said.

“Is that really how you feel? Becuase I can assure you I don’t love Elizabeth anymore. We only have those to discuss running the hotel. If it really brings you distress I shall stop them. And I’m sorry I’ve been distant, I’ve just been very busy with John. I’ll make more time for you, I promise.”

You took in his words, slowly nodding. But you noticing how he didn’t mention you saying you were ugly. Did he agree with you? Did he think you weren’t beautiful?

As he if read your mind, James spoke once more.

“As for you not feeling beautiful, I don’t know how to respond to that. I don’t think I can accurately put into words just how beautiful you are. So I guess I’ll just have to show you.”

You were about to ask him what he meant, but you didn’t get the chance because his lips were on yours. This kiss wasn’t like the others shared between you. Normally they were hungry, and lustful. But this one felt like pure passion and love.

James gently pushed you back so you were laying down. He climbed on top of you, and slowly trailed kisses down your neck, leaving marks behind.

“Darling you look absolutely ravishing when you wear my clothes,” he said as he slowly began to unbutton the shirt you were wearing.

“But it looks even better on the floor.”

You laughed slightly at him, but fell silent when he pulled out his knife. Your pussy instantly got wet as he smirked above you, before gently running his blade over your skin.

“Don’t move dearest.”

He pushed down slightly and cut your bra and panties off, throwing the scarps of fabric aside. You shivered slightly as the cool air hit your damp pussy. James sat back and admired you. His gaze looked as though he was starving, and you were his favorite meal.

“I promise you that by the end of this, you’re going to realize just how beautiful you are.”

You nodded at his words. You watched as he moved himself in between your legs. He was so close that you could feel his breath against your heat. James started to kiss your thighs, leaving love bites all over your stretch marks.

“How could you not love these? They’re beautiful!”

You moaned softly as he bit down on the flesh of your leg. He pressed a gentle kiss over the bite marks and then turned his attention to your aching core.

He licked a stripe up your slit, causing you to moan. You reached down and lightly tugged as his hair. He groaned against you, and you shivered at the vibrations.

James continued to devour your pussy, causing you to shake under his touch. You couldn’t stop the moans that left your mouth. His tongue worked its way between your folds, causing immense pleasure to wash over you.

“Fuck James. That feels so good,” you said breathlessly.

Then he moved to suck on your clit, replacing his mouth with his fingers. He thrust two of them inside of you, pressing them lightly against the spot that drove you wild. A loud moan left your mouth at the contact.

“Oh fuck, Mr. March,” you moaned out.

James growled at the name, biting your clit. You squealed slightly in between your moans. You could feel him smirk against you. Your impending orgasm was beginning to build up. You could feel yourself getting closer with every thrust of his fingers.

“Mr. March, I- I’m gonna cum.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, James pulled away. You whined as you met his eyes, pouting slightly.

“Why’d you stop?” you asked innocently.

“You have doubted my love for you. And therefore you must be punished,” he said staring down at you.

The look he gave you was enough to make you cum on the spot. But you held it back for fear of being punished more. So instead you nodded, feeling excitement build up as your mind wondered what was in store for you.

You didn’t have long to wonder though, because soon you were being pulled onto his lap. The rough material of his clothes brushing against your bare skin made you moan softly. You knew was about to happen, and the excitement within you was building.

“You know what happens to naughty little girls, don’t you?” James asked as he gently rubbed his hand against your bare ass.

You nodded and then felt a sharp sting on your behind.

“Use your words darling,” he said in a warning tone.

“Yes Mr. March,” you answered.

“I think you deserve ten, does that seem fitting to you?”

Even though he was asking you, your answer didn’t matter. He would do whatever he seemed fit. He loved playing with you, and your opinion was not going to stop him.

“Yes, Mr. March.”

“I want you to count for me. If you mess up, we start over. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mr. March,” you responded once more.

Then you felt his hand come down on your ass, hard. You moaned slightly and forced your mind to focus.

“One.”

James continued slapping you, and you continued counting. By the end you were a tearful mess. His handprints littered your ass, and James smiled as you winced under his touch.

“You’ve been so good for me little girl. I think you deserve a reward. Would you like to cum?”

“Yes Mr. March,” you choked out through your tears.

James picked you up once more and straddled you over his legs. The coarse material against your bare pussy made you moan. You looked up at James and melted under the hunger in his gaze.

“Ride my leg,” he commanded.

You instantly complied, putting your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. You began to move your hips back and forth against his leg. You couldn’t stop the moans that left your mouth. The way he was making you feel, was better than anything you’ve felt in a long time, and he wasn’t even doing anything to you.

“You look so beautiful like that darling. I just don’t see how you could ever doubt your beauty.”

You fell apart at his words, getting closer and closer to your edge.

“That’s it darling, cum for me.”

“Ohhh fuck, Mr. March,” you mumbled out as your orgasm washed over you.

You cling to James tightly as you rode out your high, a sense of euphoria hanging in the air. You sighed and collapsed your weight onto him. James gently wrapped his arms around you, and helped you lay down next to him.

When you heard his belt unbuckle, your head perked up as you looked over at him. James only smiled as he brought the belt over towards you. You knew what he wanted so you put your wrists against the headboard above you.

“Good girl,” he praised as he bound you to the bed.

You watched as James shed the rest of his clothing. You pussy already dripping once more. James felt your eyes on him and looked up to find you staring. He only smirked as he climbed on top of you.

“You’ve been so good for me darling. It’s only fitting that I give you what you want.”

In your post orgasmic bliss you couldn’t do much more than nod at his words. James reached between your legs and swiped a finger through your heat.

“You’re already soaked again. You must really want me.”

James lined his cock up with your pussy and pushed in, bottoming out completely. You let out a moan at the feeling, and winced only slightly due to overstimulation.

But he didn’t give you anytime to adjust. He began rapidly thrusting into you, looking deeply into your eyes. Your eyes met his and you could feel the love pouring out of them. You went to pull him closer to you, but couldn’t due to your restraints.

“I wanna touch you,” you begged as you tried to reach towards him.

“Hmm, I don’t know if you deserve it,” he said, teasing you.

You moaned once more as he began to thrust against your g-spot. One of his hands trailed down your body and began to rub circles onto your clit.

“Please. Please Mr. March, let me touch you. Please,” you said before another moan came out of your mouth.

Giving in to you, James undid the belt, and your hands instantly went to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to get as close to him as you could.

Then you felt it once more. The knot building in your stomach. You were about to cum once more. Your moans increased as you neared your edge.

“James. I- I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me dearest. You deserve it.”

At his command, you let go, covering his cock in your juices. A few moments later, James grunted as he spilled his seed inside of you. He collapsed on top of you, before pulling out, and laying down next to you. You felt a mixture of yours and his cum drip down your legs, covering the inside of your thighs.

He went to get up to grab you a towel to clean up with, but you grabbed his wrist.

“Stay with me, please.”

“I’ll be back in just a moment darling. You’re going to be quite sticky if I don’t clean you up.”

You sleepily nodded and let go off him. James returned moments later, and wiped the cum off of your legs. He then tossed the towel aside and laid down next to you once more. You snuggled into him, breathing in his scent, and allowing yourself to relax.

“Darling, I truly am sorry for my absence as of late. I promise you I will make more time for you, no matter the cost. And I really hope you do realize just how beautiful you are.”

James was concerned when you didn’t answer, but immediately relaxed after he looked down. You were fast asleep in his arms. He pressed a gentle kiss to your head, and allowed himself to fall asleep next to you.

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jilytho · 3 years

Text

strangers in a bar

Happy Jilytober!!!! "speaking of mothers, fancy becoming one?" cocky James meets Lily in a bar

Read below or on AO3

Longest day of work. Followed by the longest train ride. Followed by pushing through a throng of thousands of people seemingly with all the time in the world when she was already twenty five minutes late to meet Mary for a drink. All topped off with a venmo and message from Mary right as she was finally sitting down on a barstool ordering her wine.

Sorry love, just got a massive order, going to be here all night. Have a glass of vino on me!

Lily rejected the venmo immediately, of course. Mary’s bakery had just got off the ground and Lily knew how important orders were for her at that stage and there was no need to take her money. She’d drink her wine and get home in time for Bake Off reruns, not a bad day all in all. She signaled the bartender to close out her tab afterall and opened up Bumble. If she was going to sit here alone, might as well swipe on some potential matches.

“He’s a loser.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“He’s a loser.” the man repeated, shifting fully to face her, leaning his side against the bar. She hadn’t noticed him before but he must have been sitting somewhere along the bar.

“Who is?”

His glass was empty and even as his body was turned towards hers, his eyes remained focused on the bartender, signaling towards his glass and nodding towards her near empty one as well. It wasn’t until the bartender had nodded back to him and begun to grab bottles that he turned to look into her eyes. Dark hazel, thick tortoise frames, tousled hair, beautifully chiseled jaw.

“Whatever sorry tosser left you sitting here on a barstool all by your lonesome.”

“What exactly makes you think I’m here because of a boy? Can’t a girl just go get a drink by herself?” she wrapped her fingers around the newly filled wine glass and avoided eye contact, taking a sip.

“I’ll make you forget his name”

She spluttered into her drink and looked at him incredulously but he held her gaze steadfast, unwaveringly confident.

“You’re pretty presumptuous, aren’t you?”

“I prefer the term confident.”

“Mmmm a narcissist's favorite excuse.”

“You know what they say about narcissists,”

“That they’ll never love another more than they love themselves?”

He scoffed, “Sure, or that it typically doesn’t come unearned.”

“Not only is that literally not a saying but what I have heard is that lying to yourself can be even worse than narcissism. Causes premature wrinkles.”

“Please, look at us. Barely a wrinkle between the pair.”

“That’s because I’m honest. Never told a lie.”

“Now is that so?”

“Yep.” She punctuated the p sharply, smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she leaned back in her chair.

“So now if I were to ask if you were attracted to me, you’d have no choice but to tell me the truth,” he leaned in closer, eyes sparkling down at her.

“Now see, I don’t lie,” she dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned in closer, “but my mother also taught me that if I don’t have anything nice to say, I shouldn’t say anything at all. So perhaps it’s better if I bite my tongue on that one.”

He laughed earnestly, warmly, head thrown back in a way that filled her with immediate satisfaction, warmth spreading across her chest.

“Wow. Beautiful, clever, and cruel. You really were made for me, weren’t you? C’mon now, loosen that quick tongue for just a second. Tell me what you really think.”

She leaned back in her chair and made a show of looking him up and down, eyes slowly trailing his entire figure. He practically loomed over her as he remained standing, leaning closer and closer down over her seated figure. And damn if he wasn’t ridiculously fit. And exactly her type. Dark blue button down tight across his shoulders, sleeves sinfully rolled up to his elbows, seamlessly pressed grey trousers.

“Well, if I were to speak purely objectively,” he leaned in closer and nodded.

“You’re pretty fit.” His entire face lit up, pleased and smug, whole body shifting slightly closer to her as she leaned in closer. “Shame about the personality, though. Really ruins the whole vibe.”

He threw his hands over his heart and winced, “You wound me, deeply.”

“You asked! Don’t ask for the truth if you can’t take it, another lesson from my mother.”

“Well you can blame my mother for my inability to take criticism. While yours taught you sensible things like to only say the nicest and most truthful and deeply hurtful things, mine taught me that I had invented and then hung the moon and therefore the rest of the world existed because and for me.”

“Poor woman, she must have been deluded early on. A face only a mother could love and what not.”

“Prefer to think it’s the ‘what not’ part of it all. Speaking of mothers, fancy becoming one?”

She choked on her drink. He patted halfheartedly in between her shoulders - and no she did not notice how his hand was so big it spanned practically completely across her shoulders and why is that even attractive? - and passed her a napkin.

“I don’t mean tonight, of course, if that’s what you’ve stopped breathing over,” his pats turned to a light rub along her back. “I just thought maybe you’d like some additional practice.”

Her eyes narrowed as she regained control over her breathing and she twisted in her chair, forcing his hand to drop off her back, immediately missing the contact.

“I don’t go home with presumptuous and cocky boys.” Her words were biting, although traitorous butterflies were still running rampant in her stomach from their brief point of contact.

“Well, do you go to dinner with them?” His tone turned polite, mild even, as if they were discussing the weather and he hadn’t just offered to father a child with her. “Or maybe lunch or coffee? Coffee might be more the cocky guy from the bar date but really I’m partial to dinner.”

“Are you pleased with this turn of conversation?” she spat through gritted teeth, “Seriously, are you happy with how you’ve handled this?”

“I’m talking to you so I’m happy. And I’m happy I said whatever I said that gave you this lovely flush you have now,” his finger traced up from her neck to brush her cheek lightly as if tracing the blush, sending tingles shooting down her spine.

He caught her eye and her mouth went dry. Deep hazel, flickered with gold, filled with something that looked eerily close to hunger.

“I’m James, by the way. I feel like we might be on a first name basis now that I’ve asked you to join me for essentially every kind of meal.”

“Charmed, really,” she waved two fingers towards the bartender until he nodded in acknowledgement and moved to pour her another drink and ignored the traitorous conscience in the back of her brain screaming that she was only meant to be here for one.

“This is usually when you’d tell me your name, if you’re new to this,” he had leaned down to whisper the words in her ears, hot breath on her ear, one inch closer and his lips would be on her.

She chewed on her lip momentarily, hearing Mary’s voice screaming louder and louder in her head about letting loose as it spoke over the whispering voice of her mother reminding her that this was a strange man.

“Evans. Lily Evans,” she spoke into her drink and took a deep swig.

“Evans. I like it.”

She scoffed at him, eyes narrowing in on him instantly, “so glad you approve.”

“I do, really. Lily Evans. Rolls off the tongue, truly. But you know what might sound even better?”

He sat down on the barstool next to her now - finally, a voice in her head whispered as they were now perfectly aligned eye to eye - and tugged it closer to sit closer to her own. She tilted her head slightly, silently requesting he continue.

“Potter. Lily Potter.”

Her eyes narrowed instantly, “and I suppose Potter is what, the name of a good friend of yours?”

“I do consider my father a good friend so yes, I suppose in a way.”

“Dinner, a child, marriage. You’re really willing to commit to living a full life with a random girl in a bar. For all you know I could be a murderer. A serial killer. A lying, nefarious, arsonist with a family in three different counties wreaking havoc and crime along the countryside.” His eyes never wavered from hers as she ranted, crinkling in the corners, drinking her in and practically sparkling.

“What can I say, Miss. Evans, I trust my gut. And my gut says that if you truly are a lying, nefarious, philandering woman with likely multiple warrants out for her arrest, well then I guess I’ll be the Clyde to your Bonnie.”

Their heads were barely two inches apart, she could feel the warmth of his breath as his hand ghosted along to cover her own that rested on the bartop.

“Alright then, Clyde.” The words came out as a faint whisper, “You’ll probably be needing my number then. To organize our crime spree and what not.”

His grin overtook his face, eyes somehow turning more beautiful as they sparkled at her, “and what not, yes I think that’s for the best.”

She turned away from him and reached into her purse fishing out a pen, not allowing herself to think through her actions or words for another second, lest she hesitate. She scribbled her number on a paper coaster and stood up before turning to look at him, just barely taller than him for the first time that night. He sat there, perfectly patient, quieter than he had been all night.

She passed the coaster to him wordlessly, a fresh blush flaming up the back of her neck as his hand brushed hers to take the coaster and held her hand, not letting her pull back just yet. “It’s been a pleasure, Bonnie.”

“Likewise, Clyde.”

She squeezed his hand once before slipping away and out the door without another look, knowing that just seeing his face again would make her go back and go home with him that night instead of waiting for his call.

She had walked two doors down from the bar when her phone began to vibrate in her purse. She fished it out and pressed it against her ear while hailing a cab, assuming it was Mary checking in.

“Hello?”

“Go to dinner with me tomorrow night, Bonnie.” She almost dropped her phone in surprise at the deep voice that was decidedly not Mary.

“Don’t know,” She croaked out, “I thought coffee was the more appropriate meal for a cocky stranger in a bar.”

He chuckled lightly, “Maybe. But we’re not really strangers anymore are we? I even know your name now.”

“Alright then,” she breathed out as a cab pulled up, “dinner it is. It’s a date.”

She hung up without hearing his reply, swinging herself into the cab. She looked down at her phone’s call log, considering saving his contact when a Bumble alert came through with a match.

She didn’t hesitate, without looking at the match she deleted the app entirely.

#jily #jily au #jilytho #mywriting #james potter #lily evans #james is a cocky pos #happy jilytober #jilytober

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wwilloww · 3 years

Text

sh. | ot7 | chapter five

PAIRING ot7 x reader

RATING Explicit.

GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers.

SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no?

WC 8k

WARNINGS AND TAGS protected sex. friends with benefits relationship. dirty talk. power play dynamics. angst. semi-public nudity. mentions of open relationship. sexting. reckoning with feelings. talk of alcohol use.

AN: One million bazillion thanks to the best beta and geologist out there, @hesperantha. Everyday I think to myself, how the fuck would this series exist without this magical lady? And every day I am thankful for her beautiful existence.

Also, if you haven’t seen /the trailer, you might wanna check it out. Just because I had a lot of fun making it and it was super fun to visualize the characters and their tiny little world.

Going forward, you can read with they/them pronouns by navigating to the series m.list and reading from there.

That said, LETS JUMP IN!

← || series m.list || →

©️ wwilloww do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

chapter five

January 2020

What is left when you’re not sure where to turn?

You know there’s Yoongi. Dependable, familiar, predictable Yoongi. Predictable in the sense that you know, unabashedly, that no matter what, you can always count on him to draw a short term — but important — curtain over whatever notion, anxiety, or complication that happens to be singing in your mind that day. Erase it, temporarily, with those long fingers, gliding over your skin in expert patterns, drawing you and your pleasure exactly where he wants it to be.

And predictable in the sense that you know you will be perfectly and endlessly satisfied at the end of the night, no matter what.

See, Yoongi doesn’t mess around. He doesn’t tease you. Doesn’t draw you out and dangle you over your own pleasure. He gives it to you. Over and over and over and over again. Extends his palm and pulls as many orgasms from you as you can physically muster and then lets you collapse in his arms. Dependable, see? Dependable, always.

Once you’re settled in his lap, Yoongi lets you grind on him for a bit as he undresses you expertly, long fingers slipping under the fabric of your clothes before tugging them off gracefully and tossing them across the room. This, this he did love to do. Loved to scatter your clothes around and then watch you from the bed as you tried to piece some semblance of an outfit back together after he fucked you senseless.

“Don’t throw my bra behind the furniture again,” you murmur as you kiss down his neck. “I know you thought it was a great tactic to get me to rearrange your room the last time — but I’m not moving a hundred pound dresser to get my very expensive bra back again.”

He chuckles. Murmurs, “As you wish.” And then throws your bra someplace you can’t see.

Now that you’re topless, he lets his long fingers skate up the skin of your back, tracing the flesh of your hips and with such delicacy it almost tickles. That is, delicate until his hand weaves itself up your neck. His grip tightens at the root of your hair, tugging your head back in a swift motion and exposing your neck to him.

“How do you want me to fuck you tonight?” His voice is deep and it raises goosebumps on your skin. He lets his teeth trace a line up the sensitive skin of your neck until he reaches your ear and bites down hard.

“Fuck,” you breathe as a shiver runs through your body. Yoongi always took particular care to curate a library of knowledge about your ticks, turn ons, and vices. And then he played them out for you in an expertly coordinated hand.

“Yes, that’s in the cards. But tell me specifically how you want it.”

Behind him, the large bedroom is equipped with enough musical equipment to run a fully functioning studio. Instruments hang on the walls and a large black bed rests in the center of the room. The dark tones of the wood and sheets make the otherwise sparse room feel warm and dark. Compared to the shabby little apartment that you share with Namjoon, this is luxury. Your gaze rests on the large wall of glass that looks out over the city.

“The window,” you say.

He grins.

The glass is cold against your bare skin when he presses you to it. The difference in temperature between the fired heat of your skin and the iced window slices right through you, makes you gasp as his hands run over your body, taking you in as you are: bare and ready for him.

You watch as he strips off his clothes, gracefully and swiftly. First the shirt, then his pants. It’s no surprise to you that he’s not wearing any undergarments at all. Delight lights in his eye when he notices how greedily you watch him.

“Do you want me to—” He begins to lean down, but you stop him and pull him up.

“Just fuck me.”

He turns you around in one movement, your hands flying up to stop the impact, your chest — and your nipples — pressing to the glass. The sensation overwhelms you as he slides two fingers between your folds, collecting the slickness that has gathered there.

“You’re already so wet for me.”

A smile spreads across your face as you hear the condom packet rip and he slots his cock against your cunt, coating himself in your arousal.

“Don’t tease me,” you say, a hint of a whine slipping into your voice.

“Don’t worry. I have no patience for that tonight.” And he pushes in. “How’s that?” he says, the lilting tease in his tone cutting sharp against your ear as his dick sinks into you, inch by delightful inch.

It feels like you have to catch your breath to speak. “Is it always this good?”

“Baby, if it isn’t, you should ask for a refund.” He punctuates the last word of his sentence with a harsh thrust that rams your chest up against the glass.

“Fuck—” you hiss.

Memory whitens like it’s been covered in a blanket of snow as he begins a punishing pace, hips rutting up into you before drawing almost all the way back, tip barely inside of you before thrusting back into you, all the way to the hilt. Sensation overtakes thought. The slicing coldness of the glass against your nipples paints a stark contrast to the softness of lips pressed to yours, softness of a hand cupping your cheek—

You should be thinking of anything but that.

And it’s easy to do, in this moment. To focus on Yoongi, his commanding presence, the way he plays your body like one of the carefully polished instruments that hangs on his wall.

You cry out when he hits a particularly soft spot within you, and he pauses his movements, drinking in the sound of you.

“God, you sound so fucking good.”

He pulls out of you, turns you around, and pushes your back against the glass.

“Hop up,” he says, and you frown in confusion before realizing what he’s referring to. You wrap your arms around his neck and with a jump, wrap your legs around his waist.

“Fuck—” With a grunt of effort, he holds you up while slotting himself against your folds and pushing inside again.

The most you can do in this position is tilt your pelvis and grind down on him — while holding onto dear life — and you do, rotating it against his waist, drawing the most delicious sounds from his lips. Your hips begin to move in tandem, each pushing closer to the pleasure that you both so desperately desire.

This is better. This is worse.

See, the two of you have fallen into patterns in your hookups. Rules, even, although no one but you thought of them as such. But the habit — and therefore the lines — were clear to you:

You didn’t kiss. You didn’t confess your love. Hookups only, and breakfast together the morning after. Usually he takes you from behind, because, as he once commented to you, “the ass cheeks are the eyes of the heart.” Which to you, made no sense at all, but you still obliged him. Plus, at the end of the day it was all a little more impersonal that way, anyways. Easier to separate from the rest of your relationship.

But looking into his face, pressed so close — there’s something there. A warmth. An understanding. Too much.

Your head falls to his shoulder and his grip tightens on your thighs as he fucks up into you. Several heavy breaths before you bite gently at the sensitive skin of his neck and he hisses.

“You’re too sensitive,” you chide, although the teasing lilt of your tone is broken up by him fucking into your body — and you both know you love the way he lets you know he likes things done.

“And you’re too shy,” he cuts back. “Why don’t you look at me when I fuck you?” It’s posed as a question but you know it’s a command.

Slowly, you draw your head back and look at him. His eyes are deep and dark, his hair tousled and face lined with pleasure.

“That’s a good little pet,” he whispers. It falls too softly.

It makes you want to kiss him. All you want to do is —

You press your lips to his. Just a peck — the smallest, lightest of pecks.

But the plush of his lips, the way they part so slightly when your lips meet... it leaves you wanting more. So you kiss him again, pressing yourself to him, chasing the feeling of his softness.

He responds, opening his mouth to yours, his tongue darting out to meet yours. His pace doesn’t falter as he continues to fuck up into you. His lips move against yours, fierce, needy, demanding. And it’s then that your stomach drops. It’s as if the winter chill that lays just beyond the door at your back slices through your veins.

You pull back.

“No,” he says, and pulls you back to him. “Stop running.” He brings your face close enough to yours but doesn’t kiss you, just waits.

And you meet him in the middle, kissing him again, afraid of losing the warmth you sparked between you. He groans against you as your hips swivel around his cock, and bites down on your lip.

“Fuck,” you hiss.

With one arm wrapped around his shoulders, you let your other hand press against the nape of his neck, nails digging in just the way you know he likes it. You both have always been in rhythm, in tune with one another, but now with him kissing you — something new sparks between you. Something new, something terrifyingly warm.

When you pull back he smiles.

“Shit,” you whisper, your eyes widening. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Yoongi says, an edge in his voice, his hips still circling against yours as he presses your back to the window. “You have nothing to apologize for.

“I shouldn’t have—”

“Shh... stop. It’s okay. It was good.” He punctuates his meaning with a thrust, a small groan slipping from his throat. You want to swallow the sound of his pleasure whole, but still. You let the guilt in your chest rise to your throat.

“No, no, it’s not,” you say, though the coil that’s winding tighter and tighter in your belly makes it difficult to speak. You take a shuddering breath in as he hits your g-spot, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Yes. It is,” he grunts, and you can tell he’s close too. “You fuck better when you kiss. You feel it. You get into it.” Your brow purses at his words. “Now be good for me, forget it, and cum on this cock.”

You nod.

“Tell me what you’re going to do.”

“I’ll forget it, be good for you, and cum on your cock.”

“Good,” he smiles.

Each thrust brings you a step closer. He kisses you, again waiting for you to meet his lips, and together you move like dancing partners closer and closer to the edge.

You cum, clenching around his cock and crying his name into his mouth.

The two of you breathe heavily, foreheads resting together for a moment that stretches long enough for you to call it a distance.

“Fuck—” Yoongi says, pulling out of you and smiling gently as he lets you down. “I’ve never heard you come like that before.”

Heat rises to your cheeks.

“Hold on, let me get you a towel or something,” Yoongi says, pressing his thumb to your forehead and wiping away a bead of sweat. You watch as he shuffles about his room, looking for anything to give you. “One second, I think there’s clean ones in the dryer.”

He wanders out of the room wearing absolutely nothing at all.

When you turn back to the outside world, the glass is fogged and the world feels a million miles away. The tension that rises up in your chest feels like a wrought iron ball and you need out, out, now.

There’s a fuzzy blanket on the dresser next to you and you snatch it, wrap yourself up tightly and push open the glass door to the tiny balcony. With a held breath, you step out. The cold concrete sends a chill through your body as you step out. Blue washes through you, shocking the pleasure-numbed nerves in your body back to life.

When you suck in a deep breath of snow-cold air, it feels as if clarity settles into you. You take a second, but shuddering, breath as you realize with a lucid sharp pain the reality of your situation.

Yoongi didn’t erase tonight from your mind. Sex didn’t remove Hobi’s kiss from your lips. An orgasm didn’t ease the unnamable want in your chest. If anything, it all just burns a little brighter.

This thing with Yoongi — it’s not supposed to be a distraction for you, or a means to make you feel something else. It’s supposed to be its own thing, a compartmentalized friends with benefits situation that has always been clear and defined between the two of you. But as soon as you showed up on his door with an ulterior motive other than sex, it became something else. As soon as you kissed him, you made it something else.

Fuck.

Around you, fat flurries drift down from the dark sky. They melt as they land on your bare skin. There’s no escaping this thing inside you. But the intensity of the cold seems like it keeps you here, grounded, in Yoongi’s home and facing actuality. As if any form of warmth would leave you wandering into the sickly sweet honeytrap of the what if’s that already threaten on the edge of your mind.

“Come to bed,” Yoongi calls from inside. When you don’t, he comes out onto the tiny balcony and wraps himself around you from behind, his head notching on your shoulder. “Christ, you’re freezing.”

“It feels good,” you say, nuzzing your body back against his.

“I know I didn’t work you up that much that you need to stand in the snow to cool down. Come to bed.”

Still wrapped around you, he waddles you inside, earning a giggle from you as you tumble into bed and he slams the door closed with a bit of a shiver.

“Here,” he says softly, wrapping you in a blanket before settling beside you.

He’s close. Wildly close. His breath brushes softly against your face as you look at each other. You take in the flushed pink of his face, the way his hair is tousled into a gorgeous mess from the effort of your intimacy.

You could kiss him again, you think and a shock runs through your body at the thought. Christ, his cock’s been inside you a million times and yet you balk at the thought of kissing him, of pulling him right where you want him, where he fits so perfectly, where he feels so warm —

“What are you thinking?” Yoongi says softly.

“What are you thinking?” you cut back, just a little too quickly.

Yoongi chuckles. “I’m thinking that you keep yourself so tightly together.”

You smile tightly. “I don’t know what that means.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

You bite down on your lip.

“You’re thinking so loud I can almost hear it,” Yoongi says. “Just tell me. You know there’s nothing you could say that would upset me.” When you don’t say anything, he continues. “For god’s sake, I’ve seen your asshole. It doesn’t get much more personal than that.”

“Fine,” you say.

“Fine,” he grins.

“Maybe we should…” You trail off and bite the inside of your cheek.

Yoongi rolls onto his side, propping his head up with one hand.

“Maybe we should…?” He prompts. “Join a sex dungeon?”

You laugh, the thought of going to one with Yoongi is one that sends a thrill through you. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, but that’s not what I was going to say.”

“What were you going to say?”

You take a deep breath. “That maybe we should… stop. This.”

He doesn’t ask what you mean. He knows. “That, my dear, sounds like quite the antithesis to going to a sex dungeon with me.”

You laugh. “I can’t believe you’re making jokes when I am friends with benefits breaking up with you.”

“What? Were you expecting me to be angry?”

“I mean I expected a little bit of a fight. Or at least… I don’t know. Questions.”

“Do you want questions?”

You look at him.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. Well. Why are you ending things.”

You flop onto your back. Look at the ceiling. The way the lights of the city reflect paley onto the white surface. They look like ghosts.

“I don’t really know.”

He pulls you to him, rolling you onto your side and tangling your hands together. “Okay.”

And then the two of you just lie there, staring at the ceiling in silence, the weight of your decision, of this ending, settling over you with a concrete taste. There’s something uncomfortable in this kind of silence. But it’s not him, it’s not an awkwardness, or the building of tension or resentment. None of that lies between you. It’s the fact that within the silence the answers rise up in you, and you find the words spilling from your mouth.

“I don’t want it to be complicated, Yoongi.”

He waits a moment before responding. “Is it complicated?”

“Well.” You sigh. “No. Not with us. Us is easy. I feel like I can tell you what I need or what I want and I trust you to be able to either give me that or set a boundary.”

Yoongi hums. “I feel the same. So then if it’s not us...?”

“I made a mistake tonight. Crossed a line I shouldn’t have crossed.”

His brow furrows. “Not with me you didn’t. I don’t underst—”

“Not you. It’s me. It’s — it’s always me. I don’t want things to spin out of control. And I feel like they’re about to.”

Yoongi is silent for a long moment.

“I don’t want you to feel that way.” He pulls you closer to him, his grip tightening on your hip. “Really.” You stare down at your intertwined hands. “Look at me.” He waits until you do, summoning an inner strength you didn’t know you needed to look at your friend. “There’s a part of me that wonders how much of this is you punishing yourself for something that you don’t have any reason to be punishing yourself for.”

You can’t help the nervous laugh that shoots from your chest.

“What!? Are you laughing at me!?”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “Just… I don’t know what it is, but if anyone were to look right through me and see everything that’s going on, it’s you.”

He smiles softly.

“Do you want to stay tonight?”

Do you want your friend to wrap himself around you? Pull you in tight to his warm chest? Remind you of the summer that lies on the other side of this long, long winter?

“No,” you say slowly. “I think I need some space. To… process.”

He nods. “Well, as my newest friends with benefits ex, I agree, you should probably leave. You know. So it doesn’t get awkward.” He grins.

“Yeesh, you’re so quick to kick me out.”

“I know. I guess I just need some space. You know. To process, too. Grieve.” He paints a fake frown on his face and does a dramatic rendition of a very gross sniffle.

You giggle.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Together you get out of bed, Yoongi — for once — rifling through his room in search of your clothes. With every piece of clothing you put on, you feel like you take another step backwards. Away from Yoongi, away from the vulnerability in you that feels like it tears open everytime he looks at you. His comfort. Each new piece of fabric is another wall resurrected. But when you go to hook your bra behind your back, he steps behind you, taking the straps from your hands and gently hooking the clips together.

“Here.”

When he’s done, his fingers linger on your skin just a moment too long.

“Thanks,” you say softly, turning back to him.

His eyes are still blown wide, his hair perfectly disastrous. There’s something so deadly soft about him. He looks just as he did when you marched into his bedroom earlier in the night. And yet, on the other side of this night, you feel like a totally different person. As if the stranger inside of you has finally stepped forward and introduced herself.

You turn away hastily, heading to the living room. He follows and pulls your jacket from the couch and helps you into it.

Shoes on, jacket on, you’re all ready to walk out the door. And still you linger. Yoongi glances at his watch.

“Well, I’d say six hours is a proper mourning period. Breakfast tomorrow?”

“How about brunch? I’m not getting up at 9am for eggs.”

“Oh and I’m the one who needs space huh?” He smiles softly. “11am. You’ll get up at 11am and I’ll buy you a breakup brunch.”

“Yeah,” you smile up at him. Even as you taste the edge of fear — of anxiety — on your tongue, there is still a kind of undeniable warmth that blossoms in your chest every single time you look at him.

You broaden your smile. Push it down.

There’s one last thing.

“And—”

But he already knows what you’re asking. He steps forward, taking your head between his hands and pressing a kiss to your forehead. The shock that runs through you is quick and cold.

“I know,” he says. “This’ll still be our little secret.”

When he steps back, there’s something soft in his gaze — too soft, you can’t help but think. Tenderness, surrounded by acceptance and strength. All the things that make Yoongi, well, Yoongi. And yet it feels like too much to handle. Too much to be looked at, to be seen, to be understood when you can barely wrap your mind around what’s going on.

“Sleep well, buttercup.”

Different taxi, different driver, different route.

“Home,” you tell the woman at the wheel when you give her your address, her over-bleached and curly hair forming a kind of halo around her in the seat.

“You got it,” she says smacking her gum and throwing you a wayward smile.

As the car pulls away from the curb and picks up speed, you feel a kind of numbness wash over you.

It was the right decision to end things with Yoongi, you remind yourself, even as you feel a kind of twinge in your chest. You haven’t lost a friend. In fact, you’ve probably preserved your friendship. Saved it from wandering into the brambly bushes of complication and ultimate destruction. Even if it means the loss of killer sex.

You phone dings, and you instinctively brush a hand over your body to make sure you left with all the clothes you arrived in.

When you look at your phone, it’s not who you imagine. It’s not what you imagine.

tae: I forgot how loud you are when you orgasm.

You choke, hand snapping up quickly to cover your mouth.

“You alright, hun?” the driver asks.

“Yeah, yeah, just fine,” you say, but your voice is strained. You immediately type out your response.

you: fuck. i’m so sorry. you: it won’t happen again.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, embarrassment and confusion tightening around your throat. How much more can you really take tonight? Hobi, then Yoongi — now this? You tap your foot as you wait for the response, which takes just a minute to pop up on your phone.

tae: oh… well that’s too bad. I actually didn’t mind it all that much.

Oh.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re typing out your response — and turning down the brightness as if it will hide the loudness of your message from the world.

you: is that right?

tae: i said it didn’t i? ive always been a man of my word. brings me back to the old days, in a way.

you: oh?

tae: you know…

you: do i?

tae: you do.

you: it’s been a while. why don’t you remind me?

tae: you’re playing coy tonight. two very loud orgasms and you’re still not done playing?

you: i’d send that shrugging emoji but i can’t find it you: what can i say? I can be needy

tae: should i remind you tae: when we used to park behind the grocery store tae: there was never anyone around but you’d still get so shy and embarrassed tae: and try to cum without a sound tae: but i didn’t hear a single note of shame or restraint tonight tae: shamelessness looks good on you tae: **sounds good on you

you: you were always quite shameless yourself

tae: it gets me far in life

You blink down at your phone, not really sure what to say. Taehyung’s hearty banter is something you’re used to. Even after all these years, your quick back and forth was still twinged with the smallest teasing edge of sexual interest. But you had always kept it within strict boundaries, never returning to your previous relationship, never suggesting—

tae: but my question is how far will it get me with you?

Your breath freezes in your throat. Never suggesting that you return to anything of the past.

tae: jk tae: unless…?

Taehyung’s sexually laced messages have your head spinning round and round on its pedestal. It’s not as if you had never thought about it, never considered it. But there was a line there, was there not? A line you shouldn’t cross, shouldn’t even think of crossing, no matter how you wanted to. With a deep breath, you respond.

you: i don’t know if we should be having this conversation right now?

tae: why? because you’re my ex? or because of Jin?

Before you can even manage to type out the long list of reasons why you shouldn’t be dipping your toes into the perilous waters of sexting your very happily taken ex, the screen is lighting up again.

tae: if it’s the latter, don’t worry. he’s here too. tae: he says to tell u you’re hot tae: which is news to me tae: not that you’re not hot, but that he thinks that tae: and he says hes “sorry he missed the show earlier”

you: tbh that was NOT the response i was expecting to get.

tae: we’re very open about these things. he’s quite… encouraging actually

As if this is the opening, you walk through it.

you: in what way?

tae: he likes visibility in a specific way. he likes to watch. likes to be watched and… the attention, especially when its directed at me, especially when he knows that at the end of the day i’m crawling back into his bed

Your heart races in your chest.

tae: sorry, maybe that’s tmi.

you: don’t apologize. i don’t mind tmi

tae: then i won’t apologize.

you: good.

tae: good 😂 tae: you know, i liked it.

you: sorry, liked what?

tae: hearing it tae: hearing you cum

you: did you?

tae: more than i expected

you: more than you should?

tae: that’s not what i said

you: well, like i mentioned, it won’t happen again

tae: why not? You finally get me to admit i didn’t mind it and now you’re telling me i won’t get more? :(

You chew on your bottom lip before responding.

you: it’s complicated.

tae: an orgasm is never complicated.

you: …

tae: but you know what is complicated? tae: feelings. tae: you’re having feelings. tae: oh my god you’re in love with yoongi

you: i am nOT in love with yoongi you: surprisingly it has very little to do with yoongi

Even as you send the text, you know that’s not entirely true.

tae: okay, then what’s going on??? pls don’t play cryptic with me, it’s too late for that shit

you: i don’t even know what’s going on.

tae: oh. tae: so we’re talking big boy emotions

you: i don’t have *emotions*

tae: you’re a fucking liar

you: hey you: language

tae: alright then let me rephrase it tae: what are you so afraid of will happen if you let yourself feel?

Your heart catches in your throat. Oh.

“We’re here,” the taxi driver says, and your head snaps up from the light of your phone to see your apartment complex towering high and familiar above you.

“Oh!” You blink yourself from your reverie and hand the woman the cash for the ride. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks,” she says, twisting around to look at you as you skootch across the backseat. “Hey—” You pause, looking at her. The orange glow of the streetlights rings like a halo around her head. “You take care of yourself, alright?”

“Alright,” you smile and nod.

A haze settles around your body as you climb out of the taxi. The hard edge of soberness and the sharpness of the winter air mixes and shocks life back into you as his question rings around your head. What are you so afraid of will happen if you let yourself feel?

Your breath feels strained as you climb the echoing stairs to your home. The sound of the key fitting into the lock rings with a harsh click, but it brings you back into your body, to the little marks where Yoongi’s hands dug into you, to the confusion that rattles around your mind, and finally, and most devastatingly, the warmth that has sunk deep and inextricably into your heart.

The apartment is dark when you enter.

“Namjoon?” you call out.

No one answers. You don’t bother to flick on the lights as you feel your way blindly through the darkness, hand brushing against the soft fabric of your sofa, the bumpy texture of the wall, and finally the cold knob of your door. Instead of pushing the door open though, you lean against it, taking what feels like the first full breath of the night.

You look at the screen of your phone, Tae’s question, his voice, spiraling around your head. With a shaky breath you respond, fingers flying across the blue light of the screen.

you: something feels off. I don’t… i don’t want to mess anything up. I feel like the only way to keep things in order is to keep myself out of it all.

tae: can i call you?

you: yeah. Joon’s not home.

You finally press into your room. All that silver light from the city reflects off of the white flakes that flutter softly down from the sky. It spills onto your bed like a pool of molten silver, waiting, chilled and cold for you. You flop down onto it, your breath coming out in a long huff.

When your phone rings, there’s a second of hesitation before you hit the answer button.

“Hello?” your voice is shakier than you expected.

“One second.”

You hear the rustling sound of Tae getting out of bed and the door shutting.

“If I can hear you orgasming, Yoongi sure as hell can hear a phone call,” Tae whispers, a slight chuckle to his voice. “Unless you’re just always unreasonably loud.” You can imagine the sly smile that plays across his lips right now. Another door opened and shut and he sighs. “There. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I…”

You trail off. You don’t know what to say. Don’t know what there is to say.

He says your name softly into the phone, the syllables forming such a familiar shape on his tongue. “Are you okay?”

“I...I don’t think so. I don’t feel great.”

“You’re home? Safe?”

“Yeah. I’m home.” You look around your room. Art on the walls, your little desk the messiest place in the room, stacked high with papers and photos and plants.

“Good.” Taehyung takes a long breath. “So. Tell me what’s going on.”

You want to. But your voice freezes in your throat and you can feel the way your silence falls around him.

After breaking up at nineteen, you and Taehyung had always remained friends. The truth was that even though you loved each other, you were so caught up in the physicality of it all that the rest of your relationship — and your relationships outside of that — began to deteriorate. No more sex, you both had decided. And at the time, that meant no more romance. There weren’t lingering feelings of resentment, but you did know — because you both talked about it — that you were both plagued with the lingering question of what if. What if…. But the answer was simple. You both needed more than what the other could offer.

Best friend turned lover turned best friend. If the lingering sexual tension was the only consequence of that, you could handle that. And if you were honest with yourself, you enjoyed it, in a safe, flattering kind of way.

But the reality was that the consequence of your relationship wasn’t limited to just a couple of sex dreams here and there or comments about your former sex life thrown about as jokes. The truth was that there was a permafrost of cautiousness that sat like a layer of ice beneath all of your interactions; one that only thawed away after midnight or a second drink.

Right now, the clock on the wall reads: 3:12am.

“You don’t have to tell me—”

“No — I want to.” You shake your head. “I should… I should talk to someone about this.” You take a deep breath as the sharp images of tonight’s events spiral around your mind. When you speak, it comes out a whisper. “I kissed Hobi tonight.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Or he kissed me. I don’t really — don’t really understand what happened, we were just standing there and had both had some drinks and suddenly it was happening and I should have kept everything within the normal boundaries, I shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have overstepped our friendship, but we kissed and I…” Your voice trails off.

“And you liked it,” Taehyung finishes for you.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I did.”

“And it scared you.”

“Yeah.”

“And then you both ran away from it.”

“Yeah.”

“And your way of running away from it was to go fuck Yoongi again, huh.”

“Goddamnit, Tae,” you huff, annoyed by how right he is.

Taehyung chuckles. “Babe, I’ve known you way too long for me to not pick up on these kinds of things. These kinds of patterns.”

“Patterns?”

Taehyung sighs through the phone. “I love you, dude, but… yeah. Yeah. It’s a pattern.”

As you let his words sink into you, you realize. It is a pattern.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks. “Do you really want to know what’s going on here?”

You laugh softly, even as fear nibbles at your heart. There’s a part of you that wants to turn into blindness. That wants to shield your heart from the reality of the situation. From the reality of yourself.

But there’s also something about facing into the truth — clear and cold like the night waiting just beyond your window. You want the shock of truth through your body, glaring and sharpened like ice. Because at the end of the day, you’ve had enough of this numbed ignorance.

“Yeah. Go for it.”

“This might be out of the blue. And you might not want to hear it. I could be totally off—”

“Tae, it’s okay. I want to hear it.”

He takes a deep breath. “But maybe… just maybe, it’s time to think about the way you push people away.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you whisper, although the reality of what he’s saying is already dawning on you, even if it’s at a glacial pace.

“How you let people in just long enough, just far enough, to let them see something authentic of you. But you don’t really let them take any real stake in your life.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“And that’s okay!” He adds quickly. “At least, it has been okay. We do what we need to do to keep ourselves safe, but… I think you’re past that all now.” You take a shuddering breath and he pauses. “That place in your life where you need to keep the walls and the rules so strict for fear of falling. You’re not there anymore, babe. Maybe it’s time to start looking at the wall that you’ve built and considering letting yourself tear it apart.” And then, so softly you think his voice might be made of something as delicate as a flower petal: “You know, maybe it’s time to think about how you want to start letting love in again. Because you deserve it.”

It’s not until you brush your hand against your cheeks that you realize they’re wet. You look down at your fingertips, glistening with fallen tears, shining silver in the snowlight.

“Fuck, Tae.”

Taehyung lets loose a light, but pained, chuckle.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You sniffle. “Goddamn it.”

Silence settles between the two of you. Tears slip silently down your face as you hold the phone to your ear. You can hear him breathing softly on the other end, but Taehyung doesn’t say anything. It’s as if he knows you need a minute to process.

His words slide right under your skin. Directed straight at the thing that has felt so heavy in your chest all night now, it’s as if the whole thing has been broken open within you. Suddenly, you can see it all.

The past years, this game of cat and mouse with your own vulnerability. This façade of carefully curated openness and faux vulnerability. All of the things that you kept as reminders of your freeness, your unlocked heart — the hookups, the fast and furious romances that ended in nothing but silence, the friendships you kept so carefully defined — were actually all just markers of the opposite:

A deep and abiding fear that if you let someone love you, a fear that if you let them close enough to really, truly see you, they might see something they won’t like.

Better to keep things clearly organized. Clearly marked and known and understood. That way you’d know exactly when things were spinning out of control and when someone was just about to get too close.

“You know, there are so many ways to love,” Taehyung says. “It doesn’t just have to be in that one way of fucking and falling in love and then a big white marriage, tada! the end. And, uh, it’s okay to want love. It’s really, really okay, actually. In whatever weird way love shows up for you, even if it’s not the traditional way. It’s even more okay to let yourself have that love, even if you don’t know what it is — don’t know what to call it.”

When your breath comes out shaky and ridden with tears, you can hear a soft oh echo through the phone.

“Hey,” Taehyung says with all the love in the world laced so delicately through his voice. “It’s okay. It might not feel like that right now. But opening up again — if, you know, if that’s what you want — that’s something you can do. It can be done.”

“I-I do, Tae. I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want to keep fighting this.”

It’s as if you can hear his smile through the receiver.

“That makes me really happy to hear,” he says.

“Where do I even begin?” It comes out a whisper, your voice cracked from the tears that have begun to slow. You’re half afraid to even hear the answer. Half afraid to walk down the path riddled with your greatest fear.

“I think you begin by going to sleep. And in the morning I’ll call you. And I’ll keep calling you. And we’ll work through this together. You know, this isn’t something that you have to do alone.”

You’re silent.

“You’re in bed?” crackles through the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Go put on some pjs and go to sleep. You don’t have to do this all in one night.”

You nod, wiping the rest of the tears from your face and sniffling. “Yeah.”

“Alright. I love you to the moon and back, no matter what. You know that. Right?”

You close your eyes. For a second you imagine accepting that it’s true. It fills your chest with a new kind of warmth. One you want to sink into.

“Yes,” you say. “I love you too, Tae.”

“Get some rest then. Goodnight.”

“G’night.”

The dial tone clicks and the room falls into complete silence. Only the sound of your breath breaks through, too loud and uncomfortable amidst the darkness. But still, you climb out of bed, dump some water on a towel and wipe at your face, and change into the largest t-shirt you can find in your drawer.

Tonight, you dream the first dream of many in a line that will haunt you — and spark you back to life. It’s Yoongi, his body pushing you up against the ice cold glass, his hands in your hair, his lips whispering, over and over and over again: Is it complicated?

In the morning, you lay awake, just feeling the way your breath falls heavily in your chest. You text Yoongi to tell him you can’t meet up. You look outside.

The world is covered in a blanket of snow. Unrecognizable. Beautiful. Washed clean.

Something hopeful flutters in your chest.

When you look down, your hands are clutching the collar of your sleep shirt. With a deep breath, you wrap your arms around your torso in a hug.

“I don’t really know how to do anything else other than this,” you admit to Tae one day over the phone, flourishing a hand you know he can’t see to emphasize the point you know he already understands.

“Well. I don’t know how much of it is really choosing to be different. Instead, maybe you ought to try looking at it like an undoing. Whenever you match up against that impulse to run, think about sitting with it. Feeling it. And then choosing to move in another direction. Yeah,” he says, and you can tell he’s nodding on the other end of the phone. “An undoing.”

What does this kind of undoing look like? you wonder.

When the world comes to a screeching halt around you, you don’t expect to find your answer. The reality of the pandemic and quarantine — the emptiness of it, the long, drawn out days that feel long and drawn out when you’re in them but that then seem to blend together into one long, monotonous, anxiety riddled day and leave you wondering and wishing for the end — it’s hard. It’s hard in that quiet way that’s easy to ignore and push off, and hard in the way that there’s a big ache in your chest every time you go to sleep, one that crawls straight into your throat and sits there until the morning. It’s hard, and you learn to live with it. It’s hard, but somehow it brings you what you need. When distance seems to be the defining feature of your life, you don’t expect to find clarity. But you do. As you sink into the new routine of quarantine and pandemic life, and as life begins in a new rhythm with new rules and new realities — slowly and wildly new and sometimes horrific — it becomes clear to you.

What does this kind of undoing look like?

It looks a lot like feeling the emptiness in your home when Namjoon is away. Silence louder, space smaller. You find yourself reflected back to yourself, as if you are staring in a mirror.

It looks a lot like distraction. Emotional exhaustion turning into physical. You do distract — and it’s good — with a new drama or a new hobby. Exercising in your room until your cheeks are flushed. Cooking something new and delicious every night. Or sometimes just letting the small rectangle of light in your hand absorb you until the lingering discomfort is numbed, until you’re ready to fall asleep.

It looks like listening to your thoughts, really, truly listening, for the first time. Hearing the stories that you’ve built up in your head over the ears and how deeply they’ve sunk into your reality. It looks like noticing them, and wanting them to change. It looks like standing in the empty hallway of your apartment, feeling it all, and deciding to do something about it.

It looks like weird-ass sex dreams. Once dreamless nights are repopulated with strange and specific sexual fantasies featuring none other than your seven gorgeous friends in various states of undress and revelry.

It looks like letting people in again. Laughing on the phone until tears well up in your eyes. Building up the courage to tell Jimin about your vivid, even pornographic dreams. Writing letters when facetime just doesn’t do it anymore. Telling your friends just how much they mean to you, even when that voice warns you that you ought to keep your feelings held tight to your chest.

It looks like falling asleep one night, the traffic of the city now quieted by reduced travel, and the silence offering you a new kind of truth:

Love can be without limitation.

Love can be without limitation. It is allowed to flow from you without doubt or embarrassment. It is allowed to exist in the world — and in you — without needing to be reciprocated or validated. And you are allowed to ask for it. To demand it from life, even if, at times, it feels like the only place it pours forth from is from that great gaping space in your chest.

The phone rings a couple of times before it’s cut off in the middle of a digital brrng. You’re ready to hear the familiar buzz of a robotic voice reading: the caller you are trying to reach is not available—

But instead, the deep, heady voice you’re so familiar with comes over the speaker.

“Hello?”

“Hoseok?” His name feels foreign on your tongue. After all this time, pushing it away, pushing him away, welcoming his name back into your body feels almost like a fresh rain, washing away the dust on your skin.

“The one and only,” he chuckles. “What’s up?”

A ball of emotion wells up in your throat and the phone line hangs in silence as you try to glue together what you want to say, what you had practiced to say, what you should say. But it feels as if it’s all disappeared.

“I thought—”

“Did I mess up?” he blurts.

You blink in confusion. “What? No, I—”

“That night, I had so much to drink, I’m worried that… I messed up, that— ”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Hoseok.”

You can hear the breath release from his lungs and shudder through the phone. “Oh.” It’s silent for a moment. “Oh. Okay.”

“I just…” You close your eyes. Take a deep breath. “I just miss you.”

“I miss you like there’s an ocean between us,” he says, laughter mixed with sincerity threading through his voice.

“It feels like there’s ocean between us,” you sigh.

“I know,” he says, too quickly for him to realize the meaning behind your words. “But I promise this will all be over soon, babe. How long can something like this really last? In no time it’ll all be done with and I’ll be right back beside you. Right?”

You smile. “Right.”

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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years

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please write a whole smut with bestfriend's dad!harry

Such A Tease

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: I’m sorry it’s a bit late again! But your wishes are my command. This is the first official installment of my new ‘Sneaking Around’ series. The structure of this is just like ‘A Series Of Firsts’, series of ‘random’ blurbs that are all connected. This one will have a little bit more interconnection though. Anyways, it’s a filthyy introduction to some characters🤪...Enjoy🙃

You were never one to sneak around. Nor were you one to be into older men. At least, that was the case until you met Harry. You knew that you shouldn’t have been lusting a man that was substantially older than you, let alone a man who was the father of your best friend. It’s just that neither you nor Harry could help yourselves.

You and Christine were both in your second year of college when you two met and became instant friends. It didn’t take long for you two to become really close and rock solid in your friendship. Once midterms rolled around, the two of you two were inseparable. And the fact that the two of you were from the same place, and lived there all the way up until you both left for college (which wasn’t that far away) solidified the friendship even more. The two of you even joked that the universe really wanted you guys to be friends.

But after meeting Harry though, you were starting to think that the universe had other plans.

She had invited you join her to have dinner at her dads. After knocking down the lame excuse of not wanting to intrude on their father daughter time, she was able to finally convince you to tag along with her. What was the harm in having dinner at her dads house? That was what ran through your mind as you said yes to her. You were expecting to have a nice dinner with her dad, and give him an introduction to the girl who’s been hanging around his daughter. That’s it and nothing more.

To be completely frank and honest, you were expecting to find a middle aged (or close to it) man, who was about average in looks and built, and nice. The only thing you got right was the middle aged and nice part. The rest was the complete opposite of your expectations. When the front door opened, you could’ve sworn that you were met with a god. He was the literal epitome of god loves some of us more than others. You couldn’t believe that he was dad. And even though he was your best friends father, his name followed up by the categorization of dilf was going down in your book. Let’s just say that from the moment you stepped foot into his home, you were salivating; and it wasn’t because of the food. As the time passed, you were paying attention to every word that left his mouth; and every muscle that he involuntarily flexed as he finished getting dinner ready. You even made sure to say little so that he could talk to you more. To make matters worse, Harry was one of the nicest and kindest human beings on the planet. Which meant that your thoughts ranged from him ravishing you to walking down an aisle with him at the end of it. You were a complete mess.

While you were kicking yourself for lusting after your best friends dad (dilf), Harry was doing the same. Harry was kicking himself left and right for lusting after a young woman who was not only young enough to be his daughter, but who was in fact the best friend of his daughter, and therefore a woman he could never have. From the moment he opened the front door, Harry was gone. It was like you were the opposite end of the magnet that was pulling him towards you. Ever since he and Christines mother divorced years ago, Harry had dated and slept with a good (and very healthy) amount of women. In all of that time, he’d never felt the same feeling he got from simply looking at you. He’d gotten close to it a couple times, but he’d never experienced the jolts of electricity that were firing throughout his entire body and the swelling of his heart as he looked and talked to you at this capacity before.

These feelings weren’t the only feelings you and Harry had in common though. The both of you were also hoping and praying that Christine didn’t have to go to the bathroom and leave you two alone together. But that’s exactly what happened.

“M’gonna run upstairs to the bathroom real quick and you two can talk some more. Just no embarrassing stories from when I was a kid.” She announces as she excuses herself from the table, making sure to clearly direct the last part to her father, causing you to let out a small laugh that was filled with nervousness. You were not only nervous at the thought of being left alone with her father, you were nervous at the thought of being alone with the hottest and nicest man in the world; who just so happened to be your best friends dad. After Harry “surrenders” to her request, she leaves you both in the dining room and heads upstairs.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.” You whisper to him from across the table once you two are completely alone.

“And I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.” Harry counters simply, dropping his fork and lifting his head to put the entirety of his attention onto you.

“Well you should stop.” You whisper back, looking up from your plate to find Harry’s piercing green eyes staring right back at you.

“And you should do the same.” Harry replies, as slight smirk rising up onto his face in the process; queuing the floodgates between your legs to burst wide open. What makes the gates fall off their hinges is when you feel his sock clad foot rub up against your ankle. Since Harry was a bit older than you, he could easily read into all of your reactions and body language, allowing him to know exactly what buttons to press and how to press them. “Do you mind helping me clear the table Y/n?” He asks abruptly, flipping the topic of conversation from your attraction to each other to the dishes so that you could cool off a bit. He could see how flustered you were by him in that moment so he wanted to give you a little break.

“I don’t mind Mr. Styles.” You promptly whisper back to him. You were so grateful that the previous conversation was over. He then gives you a little nod and the both of you rise up from the table to collect the nearly empty plates and dishes before bringing them into the kitchen. The two of you then stack them on the counter by the sink before turning to go back into the dining room to collect the rest. Before you could take a good five steps, you’re being pulled back, turned around, and pinned against the kitchen counter. Harry has a hand on your waist and the other is softly nudging your chin up so that you could look at him. And before you know it, after looking into your eyes for confirmation, Harry is lowering his mouth down onto yours. This is what you both had been wanting all night long. You knew that from the outside, his lips were a pretty shade of pink (which is the same shade of pink that may or not paint the head of his cock; you were dying to find out) and they were pillow soft. That was the one of the few things you got right all night long. When his lips met yours, they were the softest and most inviting lips you’d ever felt in your entire life. And the way he was pressed up against you as he kissed you was the best. He was pressed tightly pressed against you and your hands were wound in his hair as your lips moved against each others. The thoughts of how wrong this was were blown out of your minds as soon as your lips touched. As you two continued to kiss, you and Harry began to subtly (not so subtly in actuality) rut against each other. Unfortunately, this doesn’t last long. Your kiss, movements, moans and touches were brought to an abrupt and quick halt when the both of you hear the footsteps leading down the stairs. The both of you quickly move into less compromising positions and focus in on gathering and washing the dishes.

Once the dinner is finally over and it’s time for you and Christine to head back home, Harry gives her a big hug and kiss to the cheek and you a more friendly hug to (not be too obvious) and the two of you are on your way. As you two are heading back home, you reach into your coat pockets in search of your phone. As you’re feeling around, you stumble across a small piece of paper. When you pull it out, you try your best to look at it without turning on the light. The only things you can see are an H, a couple numbers, and a semicolon next to a single parenthesis to form a winking face. You were a little bit on the sad side (inside of course; Christine couldn’t find out about anything) because you weren’t leaving with Harry’s number. You already knew that you were going to break into Christines phone to get it, but you were hoping to get it from Harry himself. So knowing that he went out of his way to make sure you had it was really nice.

And from that night on, the rest was history.

You were constantly covering up bruises on your thighs and neck, and taking aspirin to numb the throbbing and sore feeling between your legs from the way Harry relentlessly (and deliciously) pounded his cock into you. You weren’t trying to hide your sex life from Christine. You wanted to share, and tell her about the amazing (if there was even a word to describe it) sex you were having but you couldn’t. And for reasons that were and are beyond understandable. The last thing you were going to tell your best friend is that you were getting dicked down by her father. Or that you were in love with him. That was a completely different story though.

At first, the thought of getting caught terrified you. And only you. Harry was a little scared since his daughter was involved in the grand scheme of things, but his fear was nothing in comparison to yours. In fact, he instigated every situation that heightened the possibility of you two getting caught. One time, he tasked Christine with running to the grocery store to pick something he forgot. It took him less than 30 seconds after you two were completely alone for him to drop what he was doing and pull your pants down. It also took him less than 30 seconds to pull both of you guys’ pants up when he heard her car pulling up into the driveway. As the time went on though, you began to become more comfortable and willing to take risks here and there. You and Harry would always try to sneak some time in whenever you were visiting with Christine. And whenever you and Harry both had some alone or downtime, you’d drive to Harry’s on your own so that you two could spend some time together. Now even though the sex was beyond amazing, you guys’ relationship as a whole grew. The two of you were pretty much in a full fledged relationship (except for the disclosure part of course) and you both were very happy.

Fast forward about six months and everything was beyond perfect. You and Harry’s relationship was great and you two were in your own secret bubble of love and sex. And your best friend/ Harry’s daughter was completely oblivious to it all. Everything was perfect. You and Christine had just finished your sophomore year of college and the two of you were now spending time with your families. You’d been staying with your family for a little and she was doing the same with Harry. After about a week of not seeing each other (you not seeing Christine…and you not seeing Harry) your felt that it was time for some quality time. And believe it or not, Harry and Christine were on the same page. You’d received two text messages, one from Harry and the other from Christine, begging you to come over. Hers had more of a ‘I miss my best friend vibe’ and Harry’s had more of a ‘I miss your pussy and cuddles’ vibe. So you figured that it was time to pay them both a little visit. Christine also mentioned that you should stay over for the weekend. So packed a little bag and you made sure to pack everything you’d need. Some tight and short clothes, no panties (well maybe just one pair since Harry liked ripping them off of you), two pairs of pajamas, and some toiletries. Once you were dressed and packed for the weekend, you hop into your car and you’re on your way to Harry’s home.

Once you arrive, you knock on the door and you’re immediately engulfed in an almost bone crushing hug from your best friend. After a good minuet, you’re finally released from her arms and able to breathe again. She pulls you into the house and as she does, you see Harry rounding the corner into the living room. As soon as you see him, you’re a mess all over again.

“Hey Mr. Styles.” You smile “innocently” to him, giving him a small wave to help your little act out a bit.

“You know you can call me Harry right?” Harry replies with a smirk as he makes his way over to the couch. As he says this, all the times you were screaming his name (and daddy) as he pounded into you. It was so wrong, but it felt so good. He couldn’t wait until you two were able to get some alone time.

“Me and my dad were just about to watch a movie and you’re gonna watch it with us.” She interjects, dragging you over to the free couch.

“Is it the notebook again? Because if it is, then we may need to have an intervention.” You joke, dropping your bag onto the floor and plopping yourself down onto the couch.

“Don’t blame me! He’s the one who got me hooked on it!” Christine replies, pointing her finger in Harry’s direction.

“I would’ve never thought that you were into these types of movies.” You ponder, turning your head towards Harry as you kick your shoes off. That was a big fat lie. You knew that Harry was the sappiest man in the world. Whenever you guys weren’t running the risk of getting caught, after sex, the two of you would cuddle and watch a romcom or romance/drama movie.

“What can I say? I like a good romance.” Harry shrugs, sending you a soft smile. He too was thinking back the romcoms and cuddles you two shared.

“Well lets get it started!” Christine interjects excitedly, pulling both you and Harry from your little moment, and grabbing the remote from the table. You pull the blanket from the back of the couch and throw it over the two of you while she starts the movie.

After about an hour, you were a little restless. You loved spending time with your best friend and you wanted to continue watching the movie with her, but you needed a little break. And the idea you had for this little break may or may not have included Harry.

“I’m gonna take a little trip to the ladies room.” You whisper to Christine as you pull the blanket off of you. When you stand up from the couch, Harry’s eyes leave the tv screen as you walk away. Instead of going straight upstairs, you stand behind the couch you were just sitting on with Christine and you begin “phase one” of your little break.

Instead of just going upstairs and mouthing to him to come with you, you decide to tease him a bit. Get him worked up so that he’d be running to you. While his attention is still on you, you decide to just go for it and lift up your shirt, exposing your bare breasts to him. In an instant, Harry’s eyes widen and his cock stirs in his pants. He couldn’t believe what you were doing. He thought he was the one who was doing the absolute most to live on the edge, but what you were doing right now tied you both for the top spot of the wilder one in the relationship. He constantly makes sure that Christine’s eyes are clued to the tv screen and he’s not being too obvious when it came to being distracted while he took in your teasing. He watched as you squeezed your breasts and tweaked your nipples. You decided to do this for a minuet or two before lifting your skirt a little to give him a peek and ultimately tiptoeing upstairs. This left Harry’s cock completely hard, and his mind completely scrambled as he tried to figure out a plausible reason to step away. After about five minuets, he comes up with a good enough reason to step away and meet you.

“Have t’make a phone call for work. I’ll be right upstairs.” He announces to Christine as he stands from his seat.

“Alright. But can you tell Y/n to hurry up, she’s gonna miss the best parts.” She asks, diverting his attention

“Maybe she’s handling something.” Harry replies, alluding to the possibility of you getting your period. All she does is shrug in response to him, prompting Harry to dash upstairs. As soon as he reaches the top of the stairs, he makes a b-line to the bathroom. Where you were waiting with your panties around your ankles. When he pushes the door open, he’s met with you standing at the counter looking into the mirror. Without saying a single word to you, Harry steps into the bathroom. He closes and locks the door before standing right behind you.

“What’s wrong daddy? Did I make you hard?” You ask sweetly, diverting your attention from your reflection to him.

“Did I say that you could speak?” Harry whispers calmly, lifting his foot to kick your legs apart. “You’re playing a very dangerous game. I’m leaning towards the thought that you want to get caught.” Harry continues, gripping onto your hips and yanking you back so that you fall against the counter and your backside is closer to him.

“Maybe.” You hum, moving your hips a little in his grasp.

“Oh really?” Harry questions, flipping up the bottom of your skirt. “Well now’s the perfect time to see if you want to get caught little girl.” Harry continues on, sending a sharp swat to your ass to make sure that you know who’s in control of this situation. “You could either lay there and moan, whimper, and cry like you do when were all by ourselves, or you could lay there and take it quietly like the good girl you’re supposed to be.” Harry offers, removing a hand from one of your hips shoving down his sweatpants and boxers down all at once. “Your choice.” He whispers finally before lining his cock up with your sopping wet entrance and slowly pushing into you. “Such a tight little hole f’me.” Harry moans as he continues to push into you.

“So big.” You whisper as you feel his cock stretching and filling you. It felt so good to have him inside you again. Once he’s fully inside and you can feel him in the pit of your stomach. He doesn’t give you much time to adjust to his size before slightly pulling out of you, just to slam back in. He then continuously slams into you over and over again, grunting and moaning lowly behind you. His cock was constantly pushing at the deepest part of you. He was going so hard that you could feel his balls slapping against your clit over and over again.

“This what you wanted babygirl? Wanted me t’fuck you hard while your best friend is downstairs waiting for you?” He pants, continuing to fuck into you. He missed being inside you. He missed the feeling of your spongy, warm, and wet walls around his cock as he gave you everything he had. And he couldn’t wait to spend the entirety of the following week with you. He’d be able to be inside of you 24/7. That’s where he always wanted to be.

“Oh my-“ you gasp, feeling his cock dig into your sweet spot. His cock was so good. That was all you could say. The way he masterfully maneuvered his cock in and out of you. He knew exactly how to move and slam into you and make you go numb. He was slamming into you so hard that you could guarantee that your thighs would be sore and bruised. But again, it felt so good. As he continues, Harry yanks you up, keeping the same hard and fast pace from slamming his cock into you.

“Look at yourself baby.” He whispers into your ear, pushing his hand up your tight shirt to cup your breasts in his hands. “A cock crazed little girl getting pounded by daddy. A pretty, moaning, and crying little mess.” Harry chuckles cynically, looking into the mirror to see your worn out yet pleasured face and your watery eyes. He can hear your moans as you get closer and closer to your release. He wraps his thumbs and forefingers around your perky nipples before bending you both down onto the counter. “Feel your walls squeezin’ me baby. Wanna cum for daddy?” Harry pants behind you, feeling his release nearing as well.

“Please daddy.” You whimper. That was all you could say. Your release was coming at full speed and it wasn’t going to slow down. It was hot and tight in the pit of your stomach and you were going to explode.

“Cum with daddy baby.” He groans once more, sending one final, sharp and power filled thrust into you, pinning his cock right against your sweet spot.

At that moment, the both of you let go. Your bottom lip was completely raw at this point, you were trying so hard to hold back your moans the entire time and it was getting harder and harder. It felt so good to cum around him, and to feel him cumming inside of you. You were more than welcoming to the warm and sticky cum painting your walls. As Harry came, he was on the verge of collapse. He was finally emptying himself into you. He let go of everything he had and it was like your walls were milking him for more from the way you were convulsing around him. You were pulsating as you came.

Once you two are done, he pulls out of you and does his pants back up, leaving you slumped over on the counter. Before leaving, the plucks open the mirrored medicine cabinet in front of him and pulls out a bottle of aspirin. He sits it on the counter next to your limp body and just stands behind you to admire the sight. “Might wanna take one, don’t want you to be too sore. Wanna pound into you some more later on.” Harry says nonchalantly. He then brings his hand down to your exposed, sore, and a tiny bit swollen pussy to gather some of his sticky cum that was dripping out. “Might wanna put those panties back on too, don’t want any of m’cum leakin’ out. Want you to be nice and full of it once I empty more of it into you later sweetheart.” Harry continues before bringing his cum covered fingertip to his mouth. He then leans down to press a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck and unlocks the bathroom door to walk out, leaving you alone to try your best to put yourself back together.

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velvetcloxds · 3 years

Text

BREATHE| D.H.

Pairing: Derek x fem! Reader

Word count:2642

Warning: mentions of abusive family member, mentions of abuse, mentions of dead body

Summary: Scott, Stiles and Isaac create a situation where Derek and the reader are forced to talk about the very obvious feelings that they have for each other.

“I don’t know,” I say softly, looking out into the hallway to check for my aunt before softly closing the door behind me, “She’s barely over the fact that I got a B on my midterm paper,” I tell him, moving my books out of the way to sit down on my bed.

“Was it bad?” Isaac asks after a second and I sigh, tracing my fingers under my eye where there should be a completely healed bruise by now.

“It’s been worse,” I answer quickly and he sighs on his end, knowing by now that I wouldn’t tell him if it actually were bad, “I’m fine Isaac, besides it would be much worse without the whole werewolf thing,,” I add, looking up when the front door shuts.

“Was that her?” Isaac asks, the tone of his voice tense. I sigh, jumping up from the bed, pulling the curtain open slightly to see her driving out of the driveway. I smile softly.

“Looks like I’ve got the house to myself for a few hours,” I tell him and hold the phone between my shoulder and my ear as I bend forward to pull my boots on.

“So, does that mean you’ll help us out tonight?” Isaac asks not missing a beat, I smile again as I stand up to grab my jacket.

“Yes, and it also means that the whole lot of you can climb down from the roof and meet me at the front door like normal people,” I say, hearing Isaac’s little laugh in the background as I end the call, the sounds of multiple footsteps on the roof following me as I make my way to the door.

“Why don’t I get to be on the roof?” I hear Stiles ask as I open the door, pulling my jacket on at the same time.

“You know why,” Derek tells him with a cold look causing Stiles roll his eyes.

“You fall down one time and you’re labelled a fall risk,” Stiles notes waving a hand around as his other hand pulls at his plaid shirt.

“It was not one time,” Derek replies very quickly becoming annoyed, “It was three times, and it was but minutes apart,” He adds and lifts a warning brow when Stiles moves to pretest.

“Good evening boys,” I interject before the little spat could continue. Isaac and Scott look over to me with small smiles and apologetic eyes as Derek and Stiles continue to stare each other down, “Derek,” I note formally, making him give Stiles one more warning gaze before locking eyes with me.

“Y/n,” He replies in the same tone after a moment, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket without breaking eye contact for even a second, “You look good,” He says simply, looking me over quickly before meeting my eyes again.

“So do you,” I say and he nods slowly, eyes raking over my face quickly before turning to Scott who is probably waiting for a moment to explain the plan. I smile to myself as I reach behind me to close the door.

“Stiles was listening to his dad’s police radio and there seems to be another body somewhere in the woods,” Scott explains and I furrow my brows at the very vague explanation.

“Is it a werewolf body? The body of someone who was murdered by a werewolf? A hunter? The body of another human sacrifice victim?” I ask, looking between all of them, their blank expressions making it clear that they don’t have an answer to my question.

“Does it matter?” Scott offers carefully and I scoff softly before nodding.

“Yes, it matters, if we’re trying to protect Beacon Hills from supernatural killers and therefore have to find this here dead person in order to that, then I’m with you. But if we’re just going on a little scavenger hunt that’s actually someone else’s job, then I’d like to inform you all that it’s very cold out here and I’m going back inside,” I say, pulling my jacket tighter against my body to emphasize my point.

“She’s right,” Derek notes and I nod at him, “You three said that this was serious and that time was of the essence and so far, it’s been a waste of my time.”

“Time you would’ve spent doing what, Derek? Brooding?” Stiles questions with a mocking smile, shifting back when Derek pulls a hand out of his pocket.

“Look it is serious, we’re not trying to waste anyone’s time,” Scott tells us and rolls his eyes when Stiles moves in behind him, keeping a hand on his shoulder as he looks over at Derek, “We think it’s one of the missing people that’s been killed by whoever’s going around sacrificing people.” He explains and hits Stiles’ hand away from his shoulder.

“Fine,” I say and step forward to walk past them and down the stairs, “We’ll separate into two groups; one group takes the right side and the other takes the left. Who wants to come with me?” I ask looking up at the four of them.

“Derek,” Isaac says very quickly and Derek looks at him with a questioning stare, “It’s either you go with Y/n or you go with Scott and Stiles,” He elaborates and then shrugs as he looks down, Scott and Stiles doing the same when I look over at them, there is definitely something going on here.

“Or Isaac and Derek could go together,” I offer, mainly just to see their reactions.

“No.” Scott says looking a little alarmed as he looks at me. “You’re not exactly Stiles’ biggest fan either. You’d murder him before we even left the yard,” He explains, stuttering in between sentences and I nod slowly, hiding a smile as the boys attempt to hide their frantic glares.

“Okay then, I guess it’s just the two of us,” I tell Derek who looks a little lost for a second as he stares down at me before he nods quickly and makes his way to my side, making sure to give the remaining boys an unplaced glare as he does.

“We’ll meet back here in half an hour, whether we find the body or not,” Derek says beginning to turn before stopping and pointing at Scott and Isaac. “Don’t let Stiles out of your sight,” He says sternly to which the boys nod, “And you, don’t be an idiot,” He adds, pointing at Stiles who is very clearly unhappy with the order. Stiles scoffs.

“I didn’t want you in my group in the first place,” He says and extends the notion towards me when he notices the smile on my lips that I was sure I’d hidden well, “Screw you, Y/n,” He adds as Scott and Isaac pull him from the steps and carefully push him towards the right direction.

“I hate the woods,” I announce softly as we still at the edge of the reserve, looking out onto endless rows of trees, “It gives me the creeps,” I add, tilting my head to get a glance of Derek’s reaction, feeling slightly less annoyed when the softest hint of a smile graces his lips.

“We’ll be out before you know it,” He tells me, not quite meeting my gaze, “You can stay close to me if it helps,” He announces with a quick glance before zipping up his jacket and starting to head off the trail. I take a second to myself, considering the idea of going into this stupid little forest following Derek of all people in there alone and let out a soft sigh.

“Wait up!” I shout, almost jogging to catch up with him despite his offer to keep close to me.

We continue like this for a while, staying close as we look around, sniffing the air for anything that could indicate that there’s a body around here, the only sound being that of our shoes crushing leaves and fallen branches as we walk.

“What?” Derek asks, stopping suddenly after I let out another tired sigh. I frown as I look up at him, “Why do you keep doing that?” He asks and points towards the zip of my jacket which I’ve been moving up and down for the last five minutes. I shrug. “And the sighing, what’s with the sighing?“ He adds in a rush, eyes large as he lets out a loud sigh of his own. I smile up at him.

“I’m bored,” I admit and he folds his arms over his chest, “And don’t even get me started on the silent searching which is driving me mad by the way. Like honestly, Derek, why won’t you talk to me?” I ask, dropping my hands from my jacket to stuff them into my pockets. He looks me over carefully before looking away.

“I don’t know,” He says after a moment and I scoff softly.

“Would you prefer it if I talked, because I have so much to say,” I tell him, taking a step to the side to catch his gaze.

“We need to find this body, Y/n,” He tells me, voice soft and distant. I shake my head, reaching a hand out to stop him from walking away.

“There’s no body, Derek. Well, I don’t think at least,” I say and he frowns, “You really didn’t notice how weird the guys were acting at the house?”

“They’re always weird.”

“Yes, but this was different. They planned this, all of this, somehow. I think they just wanted us to end up alone somewhere where we’re forced to really talk,” I explain and steady myself when my unneeded arm gesture causes me to lose balance.

“Talk about what?” He asks me and I furrow my brows in confusion.

“Don’t do that, you know about what. About you and me. About us,” I say and then shake my head when his eyes largen as a result of my words, “Don’t freak out on me, okay. Just listen,” I say carefully dropping my hand from his arm where it’s been holding him in place.

“Fine. I won’t freak out.”

“You like me,” I deadpan, mind already filling with about a thousand different ways I could’ve approached this, “I mean I think you do and that’s good because boy do I like you too. You’re just not so good with the words and the expression of the feelings and so truth be told I could be completely wrong, but I also don’t think I am. So, to be quite frank I was just curious as to when you were planning on asking me out?” I end, breathless for no reason as I carefully take in the way his expression softens, eyes raking over my face slowly, “I mean you do like me, right?” I ask, my own face softening from slight excitement to unsettled uncertainty as he remains quiet, looking between me and the trees behind me, “You don’t.” I say and let out a soft sigh, realizing how completely silly I must look making this big scene when he very clearly doesn’t feel the same at all.

“Y/n, wait…” He says quickly stupidly attempting to stop me from walking away from him even though I’m already out of reach, “Where are you going?” He asks, deciding to follow me instead.

“I don’t know,” I tell him, fighting the urge to either cry or kick his pretty little ass, “What do you care anyway?” I muse bitterly as I hear him getting closer to me.

“Will you stop?” He asks me annoyed and I feel his hands surrounding my waist to pull me to a stop in front of him, “Will you just give me a bloody minute?” He adds, breath against my neck as he holds me against his body, “If I let go, will you promise not to walk away?” He asks carefully and I nod, his hands moving back and away slowly before I turn around to face him, the seriousness in his eyes catching me by surprise, “I don’t know how to talk to you,” He starts and lets out a long sigh, “It’s like every word I know just completely disappears from my mind the second I see you. The second you smile. The second you say my stupid name. I can’t talk to you,” He explains and my lips almost immediately pull into a smile as response.

“Derek-“

“No. Just let me get this out,” He says, smiling as well as he moves his hands to my waist once again. “I think you’re amazing. You’re good and kind and you barely know anyone of us, but you’d still risk your life to help us out and you’re beautiful, which I should’ve said first, but you are. And you’re so closed off from everyone, but I can still tell exactly what you’re feeling by just looking at you, which is ridiculously unfair because as soon as I convince myself I feel one way for you it changes completely and suddenly I can’t do a bloody thing without thinking about you,” He shakes his head slightly as I let out a soft laugh, lifting my hands to his chest, “Yes, I like you. I like you so much that I feel like I can’t breathe,” He ends and I’m sure my cheeks have turned about every shade of red in but a matter of seconds.

“Breathe, Derek,” I say softly, leaning closer as my fingers move over his chest slowly.

“You’re not being fair,” He says and I can hear his heartbeat rising in pace.

“What are you going to do about it?” I ask carefully, looking up at him through my lashes, biting at my lip to draw his attention there. He smiles, a tint of rose barely touching at his cheeks before disappearing and I’d call him out on it, but the sudden strength of his hands pulling me tighter against his body has me somewhat preoccupied. He leans in as well, nose touching mine.

“This might be a start,” He whispers before catching my lips with his, kissing me slowly yet urgently as I move my hands to his neck, pulling myself even closer as the taste of mint meets my tongue.

Whistles and applause are what pulls us apart, Derek smiling against my lips before he moves away from me, loosely keeping a hand around my waist as we turn to see the boys coming up from behind us.

“I knew this would work,” Stiles announces as the three of them still in front of us. “This is why you need to let me make all of the plans, Scott, because clearly they always work,” He adds excitedly, waving his hands in the air between us. Isaac and Scott simply smiling as they look from him to us.

“I’m happy for you two,” Isaac says with an almost brotherly smile.

“Do you think they’ll have a June wedding?” Stiles asks in thought, smiling as another thought comes to mind, “Do you think we’ll have to ask her for him?” He adds and Scott nudges him when Derek growls lowly.

“We should get you home, your aunt could get home soon,” Scott tells me and we all nod in union before the tree of them turn to walk away in the direction of my house. I try to do the same, smiling when Derek pulls me back softly.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow night,” He states simply and I look up at him confused. He laughs before placing another soft kiss on my lips, “Out date.” He clarifies and smiles happily when I realize what he’s talking about, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night,” He says again and I nod.

“I’ll bring the dictionary,” I muse, laughing softly as he rolls his eyes, pulling me with him as we follow the boys home.

Hi there, more of my work can be found on Wattpad under @mjoubertt. Mxx.

Masterlist

#derek hale imagine #derek hale one shot #derekhale x reader #derek x reader #derek hale imagines #derek hale #teenwolf x reader #teen wolf #fluff

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tricksters-captain · 3 years

Text

Helmut Zemo imagines - Hostage Part 1

AN: I came up with this idea for a series in the shower and I hope you guys are as intrigued by it as I am. Also I’m aware it’s posted later than I said but I’m a perfectionist and couldn’t post it until I was happy with it!! To make up for it, I have some Laszlo Kreizler smut coming up soon for you Alienist fans.

Summary: You were chosen as one of Karli’s elite. You became a super soldier to help your cause, make the world a better place but taking the serum came with a price. After being cornered one day, you’re taken by the famous Helmut Zemo to give him answers or face the consequences.

In This Chapter: Introductions. You are sent on a mission for Karli, only for it to turn bad.

Pairing(s): Zemo x Fem!Reader, Karli Morganthau x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 2,703

Warnings: Spoilers for TFATWS, violence, strong language

You stared back at the burning building as the truck pulled away.

Despite the rumbling of the thick tires on the tarmac beneath you, you could hear the screaming.

“Hey.” DeeDee placed a hand on your shoulder and tugged you round. “Don’t look.”

You could see in her eyes that she was just as shocked as you were but was trying to hide it.

The task had been to remove as many supplies as possible from the GRC depot to take back to the camps in Riga. There had been no mention of bombing the place.

Lennox’s eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror. You were all thinking the same thing.

Why would Karli go through with something that hadn’t even been discussed?

“Turn here. It’s faster.” DeeDee leant forward pointing towards a more narrow alley as fire engine sirens echoed up ahead.

Lennox did as suggested and the others followed close behind.

It wasn’t a long drive from Vilnius to Riga but you all stopped when daylight broke to take some time to eat something.

You sat down beside Diego, your eyes flickering to Karli every few minutes as she dished out supplies for you all.

She noticed.

“(Y/n).” Karli remained standing as she handed out the last can to Dovich.

You took the hint and rose to your feet.

You followed her to the side of the abandoned structure as the others tried to tune the radio.

“What’s the problem?” Karli asked you, a hard expression across her features.

“What’s the problem?” You couldn’t help but scoff at the question. “Karli, you blew up a building with people still tied up inside.”

“I did what I had to do. It’s the only language these people understand. You saw just how much food, water and medicine they were sitting on. If we had a fraction of that just a few months ago Mama Donya might still be alive.” You could see the tears Karli was trying to suppress as she spoke of Mama Donya.

“You still should’ve consulted us before you went ahead with it. We’re better than an eye for an eye and you know that.” You cautiously took her hand into yours to try and comfort her. “We’re trying to make a difference here.”

“And that is how we do it.” She dropped your hand as she defended her actions. You shook your head but didn’t retaliate. You knew there was no use in arguing with her in that moment.

“There’s something I need you to do after Mama Donya’s funeral today.” Karli was quick to change the topic. “A mission for you and DeeDee.”

“What is it?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest.

“I need you to go to these coordinates immediately after the funeral. One of our allies will be expecting you both. He has information and something I need. It’ll be a parcel, small enough to conceal so you can make your way back to us without any suspicion.” Karli texted over the coordinates and the information on the contact.

“How can you be sure it’s safe?” You asked as you studied his profile.

“I wouldn’t send you if it wasn’t.” Karli paused before she wrapped her hand around the back of your neck and brought your forehead to hers. “We have to stick together now more than ever.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled a shaky breath.

“One world.” You muttered.

“One people.”Karli pulled away just as Dovich called over to you both.

They had managed to get the radio to work.

You sat down and opened a can of fruit slices to try and quench your hunger.

“The depot that was bombed was funded and run by the GRC, the Global Repatriation Council. One of the workers killed was the father of two and had only been on the job for one week. After condemning this latest action by the radical group known as the Flag Smashers, the GRC formally began drafting legislation known as The Patch Act, which would seek to restore traditional border regulations and fast-track the return to normalcy. The act of violence has also brought attention and followers to the Flag Smasher cause. No one can deny the world-wide reach of this group is growing, as is the danger.”

You shared a look with Gigi and Dovich as you listened to the broadcast. Your stomach churned at the mention of the father. You swallowed hard as you placed your food down.

Karli parted from the group again, feeling the pressure of the eyes on her, but you chose not to follow.

You had known Karli for 3 years. You met in Riga and became close quickly. You both had lost everything and then you had each other. When she took off to Madripoor, you followed. She always knew how to get people to see things her way, she had a spark inside of her that drew in those who wanted to fight for something; she was powerful for 19. She only grew more powerful with the serums.

You had backed her and supported her from the start but something was twisting. Something was going sour. You had never killed innocents before but in Karli’s eyes; was anyone on the side of the GRC innocent?

“Finish up. We need to get to the border in time to meet our contact.” Karli strode past the group and didn’t stop until she climbed into one of the cars.

You cleaned up after yourselves, leaving no trace that you were there, before you got back on the road.

You were back in Riga soon enough, your contact at the border let you through without any issues and you made it to the checkpoint with all the supplies safely.

Fortunately, you still had time to spare before Donya’s funeral.

You remained hidden, on the low, whilst Karli went with Nico to pick up the leftover serums.

You had previously spoken about creating more super soldiers. You had been against it. There were more than enough of you for the moment and the process of turning into one was beyond any pain you’d ever felt. You didn’t think more people needed to go through that. However, the vote passed and more were to be created.

“You ready?” Karli asked you as she returned. You nodded.

You headed to the secret location of Mama Donya’s funeral and fell into the crowd as the body came into sight. Mama Donya had been important to Karli and therefore important to you. She had been a kind woman. Kind to you. But Karli had a bond with her that you didn’t. This was Karli’s time to heal, to grieve, to help those who also relied on Donya.

You watched Karli step up to say a few words.

“I don’t remember my mother or my father. Same goes for siblings, grandparents, cousins. What I do remember is being alone. Worse than being hungry or cold or scared. I was alone. Until Mama Donya. Like a lot of you here, Mama Donya saved me. She clothed me, fed me, loved me.” You followed Karli’s eye line when she gasped softly.

It was Sam Wilson. Avenger.

You felt your blood go cold. Usually where there was one avenger, there were sure to be more.

“She taught me that we have to do for each other because they won’t. And we know who they are. They imposed struggle and hardship on us, then labeled us as criminals for pushing back. But the struggle is what brings us all together. People who have nothin’ in common. For we are, after all, simply one world and one people. So live accordingly.”

As you stepped forward and placed your bouquet of flowers down beside Donya, Karli clasped hold on your wrist.

“Go now.” She whispered under her breath.

“What about you?” You asked.

“I’ll be fine. Get to the contact.” Karli tried to assure you but you weren’t certain on leaving her. Dovich guided you away to stop you from arguing with Karli about it. He told you that he was going to stay behind to help Karli and that you had a more important job to do right now.

You had to give in and leave.

As you made your exit, you grabbed DeeDee and the keys to the motorbike outside.

“We gotta make a detour. Make sure we aren’t being followed.” You announced as you climbed onto the motorbike.

“Karli said our guy would wait for us so it’s better to be safe than sorry. We can’t mess this up.” DeeDee agreed with you as she placed herself behind you.

You took off down the street and did your best to lose any tails.

You ended up ditching the bike and moving underground once you were sure you were alone.

You were either really lucky or they had only brought enough backup to deal with Karli.

“We should be close.” You checked your phone to read the GPS before placing on your mask.

DeeDee held the flashlight up as you worked your way through the empty tunnel.

“You’d think Karli could organise a rendezvous point somewhere a little less musty.” DeeDee grimaced as a trio of rats scattered past you both.

“This is the safest way. We may have gained a lot of supporters above ground but we have a lot of enemies too.” You tried to defend Karli’s choice but even you had to admit that the sewers were a low point for you all.

“You think she got away okay?” DeeDee asked, the concern obvious in her voice despite her blank expression.

“I think Karli’s smart and she wouldn’t stick around if she knew she couldn’t win.” You may have been anxious for her but you rarely had doubts with Karli. Even without the serum she always managed to slip through the cracks.

As you continued to make your way through the tunnels, you spotted a silhouette up ahead.

You narrowed your eyes as DeeDee shone her light on him.

Fortautely, it was your contact.

“Greetings.” The man smiled widely at you both. He wore a bright head torch that stopped you from looking him in the eye and a large forest green coat.

“We’re here to collect the parcel and information for Karli.” DeeDee informed him, shading her eyes from his light as she tried to lift her gaze.

“Yes. Yes. I know.” The short man pulled out a small object wrapped in brown paper from under his coat. “Karli said you would be coming.”

As the man spoke, you heard something splash in the water behind you.

“What was that?” You asked, looking back to see if you could spot anything.

“It was probably just one of the rats.” DeeDee tried to assure you but the hairs on the back of your neck began to stand up.

You had a bad feeling about it.

“I’m going to check it out.” You whispered to her. “Better safe than sorry.” You repeated what she had said earlier.

“Be careful.” DeeDee handed you her flashlight before letting you go.

You crept back round the corner from whence you had came. You remained close to the wall to avoid any oncoming intruders head on. Peering down into the water, you saw that it had been in fact just a rat that was now paddling through the sewage.

“It's okay.” You relaxed, shouting ahead so they could hear you. “It was just a ra–––” You were cut short by a gloved hand covering your mouth.

You sent your elbow backwards instinctively which threw your attacker into the wall.

You spun around to see a figure dressed in a lavish coat with a purple mask covering his face. You furrowed your eyebrows at his appearance. You didn’t recognise him as an Avenger.

He came towards you, sending a fist to the side of your head. You managed to block his attack, kicking him in the chest.

You thought he’d be no match for you with your enhanced powers but he managed to put up a good fight.

He wrestled with you against the wall as he gained the advantage. You resorted in head butting him to get him off you.

You sent your leg up into his side but he wrapped his arm around your calf and yanked you forward. You lost your balance as he grip moved, hooking under your knee. He squeezed your thigh against him as he pulled out a rather large syringe.

“DEE! RUN!” You managed to howl before the needle sunk into your thigh.

You tried to fight again as he dropped your leg but your vision became patchy and your balance began to sway.

Not to your knowledge, he had injected as much tranquilliser into you as one would a tiger. Your enhanced abilities wouldn’t help you with that, you were soon out cold.

The stars shone above you as you and Karli laid back on the bonnet of the car.

“I genuinely believe that you could be the one to change things, Karl.” You said as you munched down on the chocolate bar she had gifted you.

“What are you on about?” Karli furrowed her eyebrows through her smile as she turned her head to face you.

“I mean look what you did for my birthday, just using your powers of persuasion.” You smirked.

“Persuasion isn’t enough to change things.” Karli disagreed.

“You’re right but right now, people need someone to look up to. Half the world is gone and hope isn’t something that's easy to come by anymore.” You stated.

“And you think that person could be me?” Karli scoffed at the idea.

“I think you could do anything you wanted if you put your mind to it.” You broke off a piece of chocolate and handed it to her.

“I think you’re spending too much time around Mama Donya.” Karli took the chocolate and popped it in her mouth.

“We’ll see who’s right one day.” You mused with a small smile. Karli rolled her eyes before trying to steal another piece. “Hey! It’s my birthday present!”

When your eyes finally opened, you realised you were no longer in the sewers.

You were standing but your hands were up above your head, chained to the wall behind you and a large metal strip was around your neck also. You desperately tried to search your surroundings through your mask but the restraints stopped you from moving much.

The room was dark, no windows, a few dim lights dotted around caused the room to seem almost a brown colour and there was little furniture.

You would’ve been a fool if you didn’t noticed the gun on a small table off to the side as well as the medical equipment glistening on a tall metal cart.

Your head throbbed and your mouth held the metallic taste of blood. You tugged at your wrist restraints to test their strength and to your luck they were holding.

“You’re awake.” You heard a thick accented voice when you stopped rattling your chains. “Good.”

The possessor of the voice, your kidnapper, stepped into light and you clocked who it was immediately.

It was Baron Helmut Zemo.

Zemo could not see your face as he had left the mask on you but he could tell from your eyes that you knew who he was.

“I bet you are wondering why you are here. Tied up in this basement.” Zemo started. “Let’s start with introductions, shall we?”

You remained silent.

“My name is Helmut Zemo––”

“––I know who you are.” You retorted.

“Then you know what I am capable of.” Zemo glared at you for the interruption. His hands finding his pockets as his eyes settled on your own.

“I know you’re going to kill me.” You knew of what happened with the Avengers. You knew of Siberia and the destroyed soldiers. You knew of his hate.

“I’m not going to kill you.” Zemo wagged his finger at you. “Not yet at least. No. We have a few things I’d like to discuss first.”

“Like what?” You scowled at the man.

“Like the whereabouts of Karli Morgenthau.”

(PART 2 HERE)

Taglist

@cathrin2405 @serenityfirefly97 @shannon-posts @dxnxdjarxn @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @trelaney @sierrabaltzer @daydreamer-in-training @e-barba @ornella0910 @natty13 @bry-97 @cherieweasley @kermuddgen @madelyn-barnes @jaxcliffaconda @candicerace @mo320 @takacsgram @hiccup005

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