#hell wrap you up in a black bag with a pretty bow on top if you dont mind being burried 20 feet deep underground

[msgexymunson]

The Code

Description: Your very first day at your new school and you've already managed to find a dealer. Not only that, but he is fine. Maybe living with your mom might not be too bad after all. 

Warnings: Making out, fingering, male and fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex 

A/N: I just wanted some desperate, clingy ‘I need you’ sex so here we are. I loved writing this so much I think this is going to end up in a whole universe just about these two.

6.2k words

Masterlist 

This must be the spot. 

You walk out into the little clearing in the woods. It's private, encircled by trees, with a picnic bench right in the middle. As you wonder who the hell put it there, you take in the quiet. It's bizarre; a minute ago you were surrounded by loudmouth jocks and giggling girls, sneakers squeaking and lockers slamming, but here? Silence, except for the twittering of birds and whispering wind in the trees. 

Perching on the slightly mildewed table top, you dump your bag and jacket on the seat, crossing your legs and picking your fingernails to pass the time. 

A rustle of leaves makes you snap your head up, and you see who must be the most gorgeous guy at this school. Tall, long hair, a narrow little waist you want to wrap your legs around, and judging by his clothes, he's a metalhead too. 

“Hey, you leave me a note?” 

He looks around nervously, circling the table before walking over to you. 

“Yeah, you OK?” 

He smiles, and you rethink your previous statement. He must be the most gorgeous guy in this whole town. Such a pretty mouth. 

“Sorry, it's just last time I got an anonymous note in my locker I got jumped by four jocks.” 

“Oh, well you know what they say, when a boy bullies you they really just have a crush on you.” 

He laughs, tipping his head back. 

“Well these guys must want my fuckin’ babies or some shit!” 

Giggling, you look down, covering your mouth girlishly. Eddie takes the small opportunity to check you out. You look like you've wandered in from a dream. A very wet dream. Little black Mary Janes on your feet, thigh high white socks, and a black and white plaid skirt. The strip of thigh on show is making his pants tighter by the minute. The white t-shirt is a work of art; it seems so innocent, but it's tight enough to accentuate your obvious curves, and the outline of a black bra is peeking through the thin material. He's sure it's purposeful; who wears black under white and doesn't think about it showing? 

You clear your throat and his eyes flick upward to your face guiltily. Not saying anything, you let your little smug smile and raised brow do the talking for you. This looks like it's going to be a lot of fun. 

After a few seconds of letting him squirm, mostly to see the blush flowing to his cheeks, you give him your name and explain. 

“I'm new here, some girl told me you're the one to go to for weed. Eddie, right?” 

“Guilty as charged,” he replies, bowing at you. Rolling your eyes, you beckon him forward with one finger. His grin widens as he stands right in front of you, eyes darting to your lips and back up. 

“So, you got something for me?” 

Eddie plants his hands either side of you on the table, close enough to smell your perfume. It's heady, laden with spice and promise, not the sweet scent he expected. That just intrigues him even more.

Your heads spinning from him crowding your space. His eyes are otherworldly, deep brown, full of such depth and soul that it takes a moment for you to remember to breathe. 

“For you? Of course.” 

He winks, he fucking winks, sending a swarm of insects in a whirlwind in your stomach, then sits down at the bench, slamming a battered tin lunchbox down. He gestures at the seat in front but you swivel on the table to face him, legs crossed an inch or so away from his hand. 

“So, I'll do you a half ounce for… twenty. Cool?” 

He wags a baggy at you and you make a pass for it, but he holds it at arm's length. 

“Twenty?” 

Huffing dramatically, you lean far back to grab your bag from the opposite bench. Eddie holds an arm out, one thrown over his eyes. 

“Cover your, er, modesty sweetheart.”

You realise he means your skirt that had ridden high on your thighs, exposing a triangle of your panties. It was only for a moment, but he saw. He thinks it'll be ingrained on the inside of his eyelids, burned into the back of his brain forever. They're baby pink, yet another surprise. You seem to be full of them.

“Such a gentleman.” 

Plopping your bag in your lap, you rummage through it to find a note. Eddie's eyes widen yet again. Your little denim backpack is covered in patches; Megadeath, Anthrax, Saxon. Just when he thinks he's got you figured out, you throw another curveball at him. 

“Here, twenty.” 

He takes it and exchanges it for the bag in his hands. Squirrelling it away, you smile. 

“Thank you. Fancy a smoke?” 

“Sure, why not.” 

You move to get your newest purchase out again but he waves a hand. 

“This one's on me sweetheart. For the er, pleasure of your company.” 

“Well, aren't I lucky.” Smirking at him, revelling in the pink tinge on the apples of his cheeks, you watch whilst he rolls. 

“So, you're new? When did you start?” 

“Today. Moving in with my mom and my brother for a little while whilst my dad cools off.” 

“Oh yeah?” He smiles, licking the paper with a pointed precise tongue. 

“Yeah. I got suspended, he freaked. Mom wanted her little girl back, so here I am.” 

“Oh really? What did you do?” 

You bite your lip as he passes you the lit joint, and take a couple of hits. 

“What didn't I do?” 

He laughs loudly with you, eyes darting to your chest as it jiggles. Fuck, he's already down bad. 

You make some chit chat, surface level stuff, but it shows you just how easy he is to talk to. He's confident, bordering cocky, but it's belied by the way your flirtatious comments make him blush. 

The joint is long gone. Eddie stands up, getting ready to leave. You want him to stay, you need him to, just a little longer. It emboldens you, enough to make a move. 

“Eddie, what's your policy on kissing clients?” 

He's mid standing when your question gets through to his brain, entirely short circuiting it for a second. 

“Huh?” 

“I said,” you beckon, and Eddie's legs move on their own accord, “what's your policy on kissing clients?” 

He's grinning then, standing in front of you by the edge of the table. As you uncross your legs, his smile only widens, slotting his narrow hips between your thighs. You take one of his hands in yours, examining his rings, before you place it gently on your leg, silently giving him permission to touch you. 

Eddie feels dazed, half expecting someone to jump from the bushes with a camera, declaring this all some elaborate prank. The bare skin of your thigh is so soft, silky smooth. His fingers dance just underneath the hem of your skirt, testing the waters, but you let him. You let him. 

“My policy? It probably goes against the Holy drug dealers code.” He shakes his head sadly, but he's still smiling, and still not pulling away. 

“Drug dealer code? What like, don't get high on your own supply?” You respond cheekily, nodding at the butt of the joint stubbed out on the table. 

Your hands snake around his neck autonomously, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves infinitesimally closer, head bending a little. 

“Yeah, like that. But the thing is,” he says as he moves even closer, whispering, “it's more like… guidelines.” 

“Yeah?” 

It's all you can manage out, breathy and weak, practically quivering at his closeness. 

His nose rubs against the side of yours, mouths almost brushing, as he whispers again, even more quietly, the breath of it diffusing over your parted lips. 

“It's a good thing I like to break the rules.” 

Then his lips are crushed against yours, your strawberry lip balm surrendering itself, finding a new home on his full lips. Your tongue licks into his mouth thickly, laced with want. Eddie responds, exploring your mouth as the kiss turns dirtier by the second. Your chest is smashed against his, thighs gripping onto his hips. 

Eddie's head is reeling at the taste of you and the feel of your body desperately pressed against him. He winds his hand under your skirt to grab your perfect round ass, jamming you even closer. To his delight you moan in his mouth, lips sliding against his, slicked in spit. 

Your heart is thumping so loudly you can feel it in your throat. Or is it his? It doesn't matter, the kiss tearing any rational thoughts away. Snaking an arm around him to dig painted nails into his back, you roll your hips into him, an ache settling into your bones. 

The other of Eddie's rough hands travels audaciously to your chest, palming it over your clothes. You don't pull away, in fact your back is arching, searching for more. 

It's only then that he notices the time on his watch. 

Reluctantly, he pulls away, taking in the way your chest heaves, how your eyes are half lidded, as if you want to devour him whole. 

“Fuck, I'm sorry but I'm late, I really gotta go.” 

Huffing, you pout, and the plumpness of your bottom lip almost makes him say fuck it, screw Hellfire, but he knows he can't. 

“I really, really don't want to go, for the record. Last thing I want to do is walk back into school with a hard on right now.” 

You giggle breathlessly, risking a little look down. He's not lying. And he is packing. 

“Do you wanna come to mine later?” 

It's out of your mouth before you even think of the words, tongue working of its own accord. 

“Are you- for real?” 

You nod comically fast. He just shakes his head, stunned. 

“You know, I'm waiting for a Carrie moment or some shit.” 

“Eddie, I'm not gonna dump a bucket of pig's blood on you, I swear.” 

“Swear? On what?” 

“On, I dunno, on that code thing?” 

He laughs, hands rubbing up and down your sides as if he doesn't want to let you go. 

“You can't swear on that, we just broke it!” 

“Alright then, scouts honour?” 

“You were a girl scout?” 

“No.” 

He laughs again as you purse your lips, deep in thought. Suddenly, your eyes widen, and you hold your hand to your heart, the other forming the devil's horn sign. 

“I swear on Ozzy.” 

Fuck, Eddie thinks he must have made you in a lab. 

“Alright, alright, you best not be using his name in vain.” 

You rummage in your bag, grabbing a scrap of paper and scrawling an address on it. 

“Here. My er, my mom's out for the weekend and my dweeb brothers got some silly club thing then he's staying at a friend's, so…” 

Eddie's eyebrows raise and disappear into his hair. If this is just some fantasy and he's finally lost it, then he can deal with that. 

“Right, I will be there. I promise. Wild fuckin’ horses couldn't drag me away.” 

You scrunch the paper into his waiting hand, and he presses another kiss to your lips, before he's apologising again, having to run back to school before the guys send a search party. 

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

He only gets a chance to look at your hastily written note when Hellfires finished, a hell of a lot quicker than his usual sessions. The guys are put out, complaining about only managing to go for a supply run and deal with some bandits, but for once he doesn't give a shit. 

In his van, he's reading and rereading your note. Maybe he's got it wrong, your messy handwriting is difficult to read after all. Or maybe he was right before and this is all some joke at his expense. 

Hope is what gets him there, that and the traces of strawberry lip balm that still linger on his lips. He pulls up to the house and knocks on the door. 

You answer, still in your clothes from earlier, though Eddie notices immediately that you've taken off your bra. It throws him for a moment, the shape of your nipples singing a melody directly to his dick, but he recovers. 

“You live… here?” He asks, completely surprised. 

“Yes?” The way he says it you almost question if you're the one in the wrong house. 

“And your last name is…?” 

“Henderson.”

“Fuck.” He laughs it out, biting his lip. 

“Is that a problem?” You're entirely thrown by his reaction, but gesture at him to come in, closing the door behind him. 

“Dustin’s your little brother.” He says it like a known fact.

“How do you know Dust for Brains? Wait-” 

You step backwards, both hands held to your mouth in shock. 

“You're Eddie?? The Eddie??” 

“The one and only, sweetheart.” 

“Shit, Dustin does not shut up about you. I thought, well I thought you'd be some nerdy, awkward loser.” 

“Well, I'm a lot of things.” 

Laughs erupt from you in an unstoppable volcano. 

“Dustins gonna kill me.” 

Eddie shakes his head. 

“No, Dustins gonna kill me. How come he's never mentioned you?” 

“He's not exactly my biggest fan. Plus, he probably wanted to avoid- this.” 

Eddie deflates a little, the hope of kissing you again dwindling by the second. 

“If you want me to go-” 

“Oh hell no,” you grab his hand, keeping him there with you, “this is hilarious, he's gonna freak. I can't wait. You wanna drink, or something to eat? Or we can just-” 

“Wait, you seriously don't care?” 

“Nope. You're too hot.” 

Eddie blushes, not used to girls being so brazen with him. Smiling, you tell him to take a seat and grab some beers from the fridge. He takes his jacket off and throws it on a chair. When you return, you're laughing yet again as you hand him his beer. 

“How the hell did I miss that?” You point. He follows your eyes, to the Hellfire t-shirt he's wearing. 

“Too busy staring at my pretty face?” He suggests, winking at you. 

Settling down next to him, you flick the TV on to some random b movie. Nonchalantly, you place a hand on his knee, stroking the little bare patch of skin as you look at the film playing. 

“Maybe I was too busy thinking about what's underneath it.” 

You say it offhand, a casual statement, but it's got Eddie nearly choking on his mouthful of beer. 

“Shit you are nothing like your brother, are you?” 

Turning to smirk at him, you respond, “I fucking well hope so.” 

Then Eddie's thoughts fly straight out the window when your hand lands on his chest, nails raking him through the fabric. Suddenly, the temperature of the room is stifling, or is it just the feel of your body against his? He reaches tentatively to cup your cheek, rubbing a calloused thumb on your chin, eyes boring into yours for confirmation. Breath hitches in your throat; you lean in closer, gaze flickering to his perfect mouth and back up. 

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me, Eddie?” 

You smirk, but it's wiped from your face immediately by his mouth smashing into yours. It's so forceful you have to fight to keep upright, hand fisting into his shirt as some sort of anchor. 

As you pull away, his eyes widen, wondering if he did something wrong. He looks like a little puppy. 

“Easy Eddie, we've got all night.” 

All night? Eddie has decided that he must have got hit on the head today. Maybe he was jumped after all, and now he's in a coma, playing out some elaborate fantasy. 

He settles back into the cushions, swigging his beer and failing to focus on the movie playing, his leg restlessly bouncing. 

You look perfectly at ease, knees curled up on the seat. What he doesn't know is that your heart is pumping blood so fast that you're starting to feel a little dizzy from it, purposefully slowing your breath to keep your calm. 

Once your beer is finished you've decided that enough is enough. A part of you wanted to take this slow; he seemed like such a nice guy, as well as being into your kind of music, and hot as sin. Unfortunately, it seems your pussy has other ideas, already banging its own heartbeat like a dinner bell. 

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He tries to make it sound casual, but he's wound so tight it's almost a strangled noise. Nursing a semi since he saw you in the woods earlier, now it's straining against his jeans in a futile attempt to be near you. 

He looks so damn nervous, and it gives you the confidence you need to swing your leg over his and straddle him. Eager hands land immediately on your hips, thumbs pressing hard to keep you there. 

This time, you lean in. Your kiss is fire, tongue burning hot and heavy in his mouth. Eddie groans into the kiss, rolling desperation from his mouth to yours. He's breathing so hard it's whistling through his nose, clouding your cheek with condensation. 

It almost feels like a competition, both tongues duelling, determined to unravel the other. Lips swollen and blood filled, your mouth tries to keep up with his, spit gathering at the edges. You'd be self conscious about it if you weren't so damn turned on. 

Eddie's hands roam all over, grasping at your ass under your skirt, slipping inside the thin material of your panties at the back, until he runs a thumb just next to your underwear but this time dangerously close to your sex. You moan onto his tongue, your own hands winding into his hair, pulling harshly to spur him on. 

He can't concentrate on the hard tingle your fingers cause to run all over his scalp, not when slips his fingers past the cotton barrier and he runs them up and down your slippery slit. Mind entirely encased in a pink fog of lust, you realise your mumbling in his mouth. 

“Please, please, please-” 

The corners of his mouth turn up at the sound, thumb seeking out your clit to rub circles on and around it, your arousal causing it to slip and slide. You're dizzy, hot all over, pussy aching for something inside. 

Eddie's obsessed with the feel of you, the heat emanating from your cunt, but most of all with the sounds you make. They'd be pornographic, if they weren't so fucking real. Needy, hoarse moans, peppered with little gasps and whimpers that are making his cock twitch with each slip of his thumb. 

Gliding a finger inside, he watches as your head rolls back, a strangled groan falling from your kiss bitten lips. You're practically riding his hand, bouncing your tits so close to his face that he's in a trance. As if you can hear his prayers, you pull your shirt off, fighting with the tight material until you can shake it off your arm. 

He sees the glimpse of a tattoo, a snake wrapped around a dagger directly in your cleavage, which he momentarily thinks is really hot, but then he's gone. Your bare chest is a masterpiece, perfect tits jostling with each bounce of your thighs. He latches his mouth to a nipple, tonguing and sucking on it like he needs it to breathe. In fact he almost forgets to, pulling his mouth off to take a gasping breath and latch onto the other. 

He drags his mouth away when he feels you tightening impossibly hard around his fingers and leans back just in time to see the show. Your climax is violent, grinding into his fingers hard and rough until suddenly you're screaming his name, nails breaking the skin of his neck as you cling on for dear life. Your release engulfs your body in a flash of fire, singeing each nerve and causing you to convulse in his grip. Eddie can barely move, his fingers straining hard to work you through your orgasm, so much so that the tendons of his arm hurt, but he doesn't care. He keeps on curling them until you physically grab his arm to still him. 

His dripping fingers are released with a sucking sound as he grins at you smugly. Not for long though, not with your chest heaving like that and the way you're biting your lip. You yank at his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and relishing in the exposed skin by lathing your tongue over his collar bone. 

“Nice tats.” You breathe onto his skin between sucks and nips. 

“Same to you,” he stumbles out in a gasp as a particular sharp bite to his neck shoots a lightning bolt of heat down his spine. 

“You haven't seen all of them,” you reply, nibbling at his earlobe. 

He's never wanted to hunt for tattoos more in his whole life. 

“Fuck, you are a dream.” 

His teeth bite down on your shoulder and you whimper, grinding down on his rock hard bulge. Enveloping his lips in another urgent kiss, and another, until you can break away long enough for one word. 

“Bedroom?” 

“Jesus fucking Christ yes.” 

He stands, still holding you, knocking a beer bottle to the floor. You cling to him with your legs as he walks backwards, sending a table lamp flying in the process. It's inconsequential; your head is fighting through a cloud of need, nothing can find its way through but touch and taste. 

In the hallway, he slams your back into the wall, pressing you hard against it as he writhes his tongue in your mouth again. A picture frame falls, you just about hear the tinkling of glass but it's not important. That's tomorrow's problem. 

Unhooking yourself from his clutches for a moment, you drag him by the front of his jeans and yank him into a doorway, gasping for breath, grasping at flesh. You practically punch the lightswitch to turn it on, the thought that you need to see him just about making it through the horny mist. Once inside he barely has a chance to take in his surroundings before you're falling to your knees and undoing his belt with impatient fingers. 

“Woah, baby, you don't need to-” 

“Shut the fuck up Eddie I wanna blow you.” 

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and then compulsively strokes his neck just to keep some composure. If he thinks about your words for a second longer he's sure he'll bust right in his pants. 

You work his fly and pull his jeans and boxers down swiftly, his turgid cock flying free and whacking his stomach, decorating it with a pearl of precum. It feels heavy in your hands as you rub him up and down, watching the soft skin move with each pass, like silk wrapped around a steel bar. 

Taking him into your mouth, you twirl your tongue around his head, licking up its salty sweetness, sucking lightly. Eddie groans, torn between covering his eyes and holding you in place, so he does a bit of both, until you start taking him deeper and deeper without gagging. 

His eyes snap open to see you staring straight at him, nose nestling in his coarse pubic hair, eyes wide and wet and innocent, mouth stretched full of him, and he feels his balls tighten. 

“Fuck stop stop, please.” 

He practically bends in half to get you off of his dick. Giving him a smug smile of your own, you delicately wipe the spit gathered at the corners of your mouth with a thumb. 

“You OK there champ?” 

“You are gonna kill me sweetheart.” 

He's heaving, trying to control his breath, eyes darting from your face, to your bare chest and back up. Standing up, you unzip your skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor, leaving you in your tiny pink underwear with a very noticeable wet patch, and your thigh high socks. There's another tattoo hiding just out of sight, playing peekaboo over the top of your panties. 

Something about seeing you so innocent and yet so naughty flicks a switch in his brain. Before he can think he's pushing you backwards and you hit the mattress behind with a thud, legs dangling off the edge of the bed. 

Which is fucking perfect in Eddie's opinion because he needs to taste you right now otherwise he might die. 

You both fight to take your underwear off, but he covers your hand in his own when you start rolling your socks down. 

“No. Leave them on.” 

It's husky and dominant, a steely look behind those soft brown eyes you haven't seen yet. Well. Filing that away for reference. You lay there sweetly, propped up on your elbows to watch as his tongue squirms against you, making out with your cunt just as passionately as he kissed you. 

He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks and for a moment you can see God. 

“Holy fuck! Eddie!” He groans back, lost in the taste of your cunt. He wants to write a poem about it, a song, a fucking haiku, anything to immortalise the prettiest pussy with the sweetest flavour. 

“Eddie, get up here!” He's not listening, licking and sucking, almost getting as much pleasure as you are, but you need him inside you right now before you combust; you're sure of it. 

In the end you grab a chunk of his hair and pull him upward, sliding him over your trembling body, and you hold his face an inch from yours. 

“Eddie, I need you to fuck me, now.” 

His leaking tip is rubbing against your swollen clit; he takes it in his hand to line it up, when somewhere out of the pussy drunk haze he remembers something important. 

“Do you have protection?”

“I'm on the pill, is that-” 

It clearly is OK. It's possibly the best four words Eddie's ever heard. 

Your unfinished sentence morphs into a drawn out moan as Eddie pushes inside you, stretching you out until he's fully sheathed. As you whimper and whine at the feeling, Eddie stops, just for a moment, to hold your cheek and press a soft kiss to your lips. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

For some reason that takes you entirely by surprise, eyes wide and wet at his honesty. 

“Yeah? You're really handsome, Eddie.” 

The smile he shoots you is warm and genuine, lighting up that animate face of his with an inner glow. You roll your hips upward and take joy in the fact that he wasn't expecting it, eyebrows knitting in shock as a litany of swear words spill from his mouth. 

Your smirk is short lived when he hikes your leg around his waist and starts thrusting devastatingly deep, so deep it's like he's in your guts trying to root out the source of the burning desire at the pit of your stomach. 

“Holy- oh God, Eddie!” 

Moaning loudly, you press hot, cushy kisses to him between your stream of noises, forehead resting on his. Eddie's smiling, he can't help it. Just the joy of being with you like this, the feel of you losing it because of him, and the tightness of your pretty cunt have him in paradise. 

“Feels- feels so- oh fuck- so good, inside you, sweetheart. So fuckin’ tight, I-I can feel you shaking, you close?” 

Words escape you. All you can do is cling to his back and nod, nails clawing into him with shivering intensity. Eddie thrusts into you harder; all you can do is cling on for your life, arms and legs nearly suffocating him. The telltale tingle of your release is nearly burning your skin, prickling over each downy hair making it stand on end. 

The heat is immense, tension gripping your legs as you quake, and writhe, and whimper, until your climax flies out of you, shooting out of every pore and forcing tears from your eyes. Your vision turns bright white for a moment, until all the tension leaves your muscles and you flop back on the bed. 

Eddie doesn't understand how you keep on getting hotter, but it doesn't matter. You let him inside of you, raw, and his head is still reeling from that. Each little sound, each flex of your constricting walls is pushing him to ecstasy; in fact he's staving it off so he can enjoy you like this for a little while longer. 

Getting up on his knees, he pulls you toward him by your thighs, guiding you to roll your hips as he pumps into you. This angle is so much better; he can see all of your incredible body laid out before him, tits bouncing with each thrust. Your small hand finds his forearm, just holding it lightly, as you whine. 

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” 

It's high pitched, mumbled and nearly incoherent. He's not even sure you know you're doing it, but it's what pushes him over the edge. He feels the tightness in his balls as his length grows impossibly hard.

“Sweetheart, where-” He manages through gritted teeth. 

“Please cum in me.”

Eddie's four new favourite words. He grips hard to your thighs, hard enough to bruise, as he groans and swears his release out. You feel it deep inside, throbbing out of him, when he finally collapses forward. You hold onto each other, tongues rolling into each other's mouths, kissing and kissing and kissing. You kiss until it hurts, until your mouth is chapped and sore, until you need air, and water. 

“Fuck, Eddie, that was… sorry, if I er, came on a bit, strong?” 

Eddie just laughs, pressing his body as tightly against yours as he can. 

“Please don't ever apologise for wanting to fuck my brains out.” 

You laugh, kissing his cheek.

“When you put it like that, fair enough. Right, get off me, I need to clean up.” 

“I can take care of you-”

“Yeah, and I'm a grown woman who needs to piss, so please?” 

You roll your wrists, flinging your hands in desperate circles. He surrenders, pulling off you and rolling onto his back, more than happy to watch your naked form sway out of the room. 

Eddie does a little wiggle dance when you leave the room, punching the air with glee. He starts looking at your room, since he had no time to see it earlier. There's a tin on the bedside table that looks remarkably similar to what he has at home, and an honest to goodness lava lamp next to it. Unable to help himself, he flicks it on at the plug, waiting for it to warm up. 

“Sweetheart, you mind if I roll?” He calls out. 

“Sure, my shits on the side table, just light the incense on the dresser.” 

Eddie seeks his boxers out and puts them on for his modesty, though it seems you may be a little, lacking, in that department. Not that he's complaining, far from it. He's obsessed with your demeanour, your confidence. 

Once the incense is lit, he rolls a joint, fussing over it to make sure it's perfect for you. Just as he pulls the little twisted paper end off, you walk back in. 

You'd taken the time to go to the restroom, clean yourself up, and find his t-shirt that was abandoned in the TV room. The hellfire logo is tight across your chest, the shirt barely covering your sex where you stand. The smile you shoot to him is absolutely smothered in sin. 

“That's, fuck, you do not play fair, sweetheart.” 

Eyes wide, eyebrows round and innocent, your mouth falls into a perfect o. 

“I have no idea what you're talking about baby.” 

Eddie can't speak. If he does, he'll give everything away. How wonderful you are, how that tightrope of dirty and sweet that you walk with ease twists his insides up. How he never wants to go home. 

Instead, he passes the unlit smoke to you, and holds out his zippo like a sacrificial offering. You sit side saddle on the bed, knees together, barely covering your throbbing core, as you take the rolled joint gratefully and spark it. Once you've had a few tokes you pass it back. 

“So, this was…” He widely gestures his arm, like it can encompass everything he's felt over the last few hours. 

“You wanna leave, Eddie?” You ask. A genuine question, cocking your head to the side, as he takes a few pulls of the smoke and hands it back. 

“I thought, well, I thought you'd want me to go.” 

“Eddie, I said we had all night. If you're done with me then-” 

“Oh, oh fuck no, I thought you'd be done with me!” 

You giggle and climb into his lap as he grasps at the flesh of your ass desperately. 

“Then stay. Stay with me.” 

Your mouth presses kisses to his jaw as your hand winds itself into his boxers, seeking out his hardening length. Eddie hisses through his teeth. 

“Fuck, I'll stay, as long as you fuckin’ want, w-whatever you want, Holy shit!” 

Laughing, you puff on the smoke with one hand, and tease him relentlessly with the other. 

For the second, third, or maybe even fourth time today, he's thinking he's in way over his head, but he can't find it in him to care. 

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

Eddie blinks hard, squishing his eyes shut, then opens them again. Nothing has changed. There's still an unfamiliar fabric hanging on the ceiling in front of him; some rainbow tie dye mural with a painted mariguana leaf in the middle of it that he's never seen before. When he turns his head, he sees a lava lamp, still on, running bubbles of fake lava up it too loose and fast, and then he remembers. 

Flicking the switch to stop the lamp's heat, he turns over to see you. You're snuggled into the crook of your own elbow, face perfectly at ease. Your pretty mouth has the hint of a pout to it, daring him to plant a kiss. 

He wants to do something for you. Anything. Right now, he'd throw a parade, organise a concert to sing to your cunt, hold a benefit to make you believe how hard he's fallen for the colour of your eyes, but maybe making you a coffee in bed will do. 

So he wiggles out of bed in his boxers, and puts his jeans on for good measure in case your mom decides this is a good moment to turn up, and starts busying himself with the kitchen appliances. There's an ancient coffee maker that shakes and sputters to life. Whilst that is going on, he takes a slug of milk out of the carton in the fridge. 

That is, until he sees Dustin from the side of his eye. 

Dustin looks very confused. His eyes trail from the messed up couch cushions, to the beer bottles on the floor, the out of place lamp, and the broken picture frame, and finally land on Eddie, still bemused and befuddled. 

“Eddie… did you… break into my house?” 

Dustin clearly doesn't believe his own conclusion as his eyes scout across the available options and still come up empty. 

“Sup, Dust Buster!” 

Dustin swivels to see you exit your new bedroom, still wearing Eddie's hellfire t-shirt and a pair of panties. You perch nonchalantly on the kitchen side as Eddie grins, making his way between your knees. 

“You've got to be fucking kidding me! Eddie!” 

“Henderson, honest, I didn't know until-” 

“Until you were in my fucking house???” 

“OK fair, but it was a bit… late then. Sorry dude.” 

‘Sorry? What about the code?” Come on, she's my sister! And you!” He says, pointing at you accusingly, “you were in school for one day. One! Then you sleep with the one guy I look up to!” 

“The codes, more like… guidelines. Don't shit your pants, you've still got Harrington, Jeez.” 

“Well, you shouldn't be such a- a scarlet woman! A hussy!” 

Uncaring, you shake your head back and away, laughing at the names. Eddie, however, is not having any of it. 

“Hey, Henderson, you better show your sister some respect.” 

“Yeah? Or what?” He dares, forgetting who he's talking to. 

“I might be fucking your sister, but I'm still your DM. You want your green adventurers running into Tiamat next session?” 

The way he curves his lips, the confident stance he's giving, it stirs tiny fires in your gut and dares unthought of kinks to come out and play. 

“Alright, alright, don't TPK us, I'm leaving, alright?” 

Dustin turns on his heel. Before he disappears entirely, you make out the start of him begging, ‘Lucas, do you copy, I have a Code Red! Repeat! Code Red!” 

“so, what now, Dungeon Master?” 

“Mmph,” Eddie sounds out, low in his throat, “ whatever you want, scarlet woman.” 

Taglist- If you want to be added or removed, please PM me!

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @joejoequinnquinn

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie x reader #switch!eddie #switch!eddie x switch!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x female reader #eddie x fem reader #eddie x fem!reader

[authorkun]

[𝙎𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙡 𝙈𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙖𝙘] (001)

Jujutsu Kaisen x Male reader

Warning: Mentions of su!cide, gore, violence, and strong themes

"𝘿𝙖𝙢𝙣, 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙩 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨."

A smooth honey like voice dripped with interest of the vessel that stood before him. The male's eyes casted down before traveling back up the first year's torso. He licked his lip at the sight with a smirk. 

"Oya? Oya? N/n-Chan where did you come from? You were supposed to be in Hyogo." A blindfolded sensei questioned. N/n, or better known as M/n sent a small wave at his underclassmen, who gaped at both his sensei and senpai with wide eyes. "Oh the other second-years would love this." M/n took out his phone and and started taking an array of photos of Megumi. 

"Anyways, I was, heard there was a SGP (special grade problem) going on. Thought I'd check it out. You too?" He lazily draped himself against the older. "The elders complained about putting my abilities to good use." Gojo chuckled remembering the annoying email from the secretary. "Anyways, who's this?" "Yuji Itadori sir!" The pinkette quickly bowed. A hearty laugh bubbled in M/n's throat at the formal honorific.  "Get up no need for that, cause a nice senpai like me cares for underclassman." The male proudly pointed to himself. 

 "M/n L/n. Say where is the cursed object anyways?" Itadori sweat dropped. "Well I ate it." "Damn the kid has balls." M/n bluntly stated making a certain raven haired sorcerer flustered at the vulgar statement. "So how's Sukuna, or whatever his face is?" The (e/c) orbs analyzed Itadori looking for any sign of the curse. "He's annoying, he keeps on talking." Tapping his head with his palm signaling the telepathic link. "10 seconds." 

"Huh?" "Come on back after 10 seconds." Gojo reiterated. "I dunno about this." "Don't worry I'm the strongest." M/n playfully rolling his eyes. "And if it gets out of hand, I'm stronger." "Megumi, hold onto this will ya." Gojo tossed a paper bag towards him. "Can you also hold onto this? It's killing my back." The second-year threw a heavy duffel bag Fushiguro's way, almost knocking him out. "What's this?" Megumi's eyes lingered on the white bag. "Kikufuku Mochi." His eyebrow twitched at the information. 'He was buying souvenirs, while people were dying?!'

"Aww Megumi they're not souvenirs. They're for the bullet train back." Sukuna was suddenly in the air about to pounce on the 'unsuspecting' male. "Behind you!" Fushiguro yelled worriedly. Gojo dodged getting close to the curse's ear. "Two of my students are watching so, I hope you don't mind me showing off." He turned sending a blow towards Sukuna's back, making him stumble. 'He's unbelievably fast. Not only that-.'  

"It doesn't matter what era it is, you guys are always a pain you stupid Jujutsu sorcerer! He dryly laughed. "But that doesn't matter to me." With a flick of his wrist chunks of concrete flew towards Gojo. Who when the dust cleared stood unscathed holding the rubble as nothing. "Should be about time." M/n clicked his tongue, while filing his nails next to Fushiguro. The markings on Itadori's body disappearing. "What a surprise! You can control it!" He yelled. "He's kind of annoying though." Itadori repeated. 

"It's a miracle that's the only side effect." With that, the older tapped his head knocking the first-year out. "Aww booooo I was looking forward to annoying Sasuki more." The M/n whined like a toddler throwing away his file. "What did you do?" Fushiguro asked ignoring his senpai. "He's knocked out." Gojo stated holding onto the passed out male. "I though you were smarter then that Megumiii." The two once again ignored the manic (h/c-ette). "If he wakes up and isn't possessed...he might have potential as a vessel." He reasoned. "Quick question what do I do with him?" M/n sweat dropped. "Even if he has potential, under Jujutsu regulations he must be executed..." He drawled off. "But I don't want to let him die!" Fushiguro finished with a determined look.  

"Is that a personal opinion?" M/n playfully teased. "Yes, a personal opinion. Please do something about it." "Hmm a precious student's request." Gojo scratched his chin in 'thought'. "Leave it to me, and your senpai!" He exclaimed. "So with that, let me reiterate...you're gonna be executed." The blindfolded teacher waved his hands around in finger guns. "This story doesn't make sense so far." Itadori grumbled. "Hey, Man, I tried. An execution is an execution, but I managed to suspend the sentencing."

"A suspended sentencing? So it's on hold now?" The pinkette questioned. "Yup. Let me explain from the top." Gojo went to grab something out of his pocket realizing it was gone. "Looking for this?" M/n's form came out of the shadows, holding up the shriveled appendage. "This look familiar?" Itadori raised a brow. "Another finger?" "Ding ding ding. You want a cookie or something?" M/n leaned on his sensei's shoulder aggravating him even more. "Its the same cursed object you so voluntarily consumed. There's 20 total, we're in possession of six." "Twenty? Oh, including both arms and legs." Nodding his head in understanding. "Wrong, Sukuna has four arms." M/n stated nonchalantly tossing the finger up for Gojo to blast towards the wall creating a small crater like hole. The finger looked unscathed. "As you can see, you can't destroy it. It's that powerful of a curse.

With every passing day it gets even stronger." The (h/c-ette) moved from his place wandering behind Itadori, the hot breath on his neck made himself shutter. "That's where you come in. You die, the curse in you dies as well." M/n moved back rocking back on his heels. "The Elders have a stick up their ass and wanted to kill you right away. My dear Gojo and I thought it be a waste for a pretty face like you to offed yet." 

A small pink flush dusted against Itadori's cheeks. "There's no guarantee that another vessel able of controlling of Sukuna will ever come around again. So... our proposal was, "if we're gonna kill him, why not after he takes in the rest of Sukuna". Killing two birds with one stone really. Your two choices right now are either to die now or wait to find the rest of Sukuna and die then." An intimidating aura surrounding M/n. 

The next day

"Who died?" M/n asked picking at his nails, feeling oddly uncomfortable around the place heavy with death and sadness. "My Grandpa,he was more of a dad I guess though." Itadori hung his head. "I see, sorry to bother you at a time like this." Gojo apologized sitting himself next to the male. "Are there a lot of casualties with curses like this?"

"This is a pretty uncommon circumstance...But if you're talking about potential damage, yes." In the corner of Gojo's eyes he could see M/n's hand start to tremor. "...Let's just say, you're lucky to die normally after an encounter with a curse. Finding a body torn in two is still a light death compared to the others..." M/n stare burned into the bench a few feet in front of them. Walking off as flashes of blood painting the walls continued replaying in his head. "What's wrong with him?" Itadori asked looking off towards where the male went off to. "Not many things are known about M/n. Supposedly during a special grade case, they had found a witness around the age of 7 standing in the middle of what was assumed his family. The report was hard to read not much about the kid except the crazed look in his eyes and the astronomical amounts of cursed energy spilling from his body. 

The case was left unfinished because they couldn't understand what exactly happened. The one account from the boy saying that it was a monster who killed his family. Of course when they checked there wasn't a sign of a curse. The elders shut the case down and took in the kid in, fear of his powers haunting them. From what I know, he was taught by the principal himself how to control his cursed abilities. When I was in my last year, I heard about an incident including the boy with a special grade. It had changed him from an outgoing and friendly person to a husk of one. He distanced himself and gained the liking of inducing pain on himself. He's strange that's for sure." A vision of a preteen M/n slitting his arms for an 'experiment'. 

He claimed the experiment was to figure out how many cuts he could endure before passing out. Itadori stared at the older with an opened mouth. An image of the bandaged male popped into his head. 'Bandages'. "When I saw him pass in the hallways smiling like no tomorrow, made me think if the incident had never happened to him..." 

"...He would have a normal life" he finished the other's sentence. "But that kind of thinking is common when you first get into the game. You learn how to ignore those thoughts. Those thoughts alone could drive a man insane. If you start investigating the remains of Sukuna, you'd probably some gruesome scenes, every sorcerer has their case that changes them wether it be for the best or the worst. Pick your hell." 

"If Sukuna is eliminated, will there be fewer people killed by curses?" Itadori's grandpa's words rung in his head. "Of course." Gojo nodded his head. "You got that other finger?" "Yeah." Gojo placed the object in his hand. Itadori took a second to study it. "Now that I look at it it is pretty disgusting." He said tossing the appendage into his mouth absent mindedly swallowing it with a gross gulp. 'That's one tenth of Sukuna, how will that sit?' Black marks appeared on his body before leaving as quickly as they came. "Blaughhh, that was so gross." The male wrapped a hand around his throat at the taste. 'He's able to control Sukuna without a problem, heh.' Gojo thought. "I take it you're prepared for what's to come?" "Not at all. I am wondering why I have to be executed though. But I know I can't leave this curse alone. It's final, I'm gonna eat the rest of Sukuna. That's all"

"Yahooo! I'm back!" An overly enthusiastic voice emerged. M/n ran over waving his hands around.  A bag slung around his shoulders. Something seemed off. An evident bruise starting to form around his neck peeking out from the loosely wrapped bandages.  A cut lip and a few more scrapes littering his face. "What happened?" M/n shrugged still smiling. "Just a fight, this delinquent looking guy said he had a bone to pick with me, he had his fun....and so did I~" He took out his phone, shoving it into both of their faces. Sure enough a buff looking male was in tears, tied up. "The old wasabi and mustard up the nose always works like a charm." M/n shoved the device back into his coat, before handing the paper bag over to Gojo who quirked his brow. 

"I went on a little trip into town and got you this~" The male's hands roamed around the bag pulling out a box. "I saw this delectable Mochi stand and turns out their family were from Sendai. What's the chance they made kikufuku? I got them for free since the owner was an old friend. Told 'em it was a gift for someone special." He winked at the end. Sukuna lowly growled barely loud enough for Itadori to hear. 'What's your problem?' 'Shut it brat.' Sukuna coldly snapped. 

"This is why you're my favorite second-year." Gojo chuckled as if he were a grade school girl. "Looks like it's shaping up to be a fun hell. Get your belongings together by the end of the day." He turned towards Itadori, Megumi now standing behind him. "We goin' somewhere?" "Tokyo." Fushiguro answered with a battered face. "Ah! My little Meg-Chan is back!" M/n attacked the poor male in a tackle like hug. Snuggling his face further into the first-year's chest. A red hue danced acrossed the ravenette's face, as Gojo secretly took pictures. 

Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical School The walk to the school was quiet, the only noise being the light chatter being shared between the two with occasional comments from M/n, who's interest was glued to a small book in his hands.  The quietness of the curse had caught Itadori off guard, causing questions to form about his weird behavior. Sukuna seemed to keep his gaze fixed onto the object held by the other. 'The book he's holding..' Itadori's eyes flickered over to the small piece of literature questioning it's importance. "What are you reading?" 

"Just an old book I'm rereading." The male had answered turning to the next page. "If you have already read it why are you reading it again?" His curiosity had gotten the better of him. "A good book never gets old no matter how many times you read it." What confused Itadori, is why Sukuna was so fixated on the older. A soft thud sounded out as M/n closed the book, placing it back into his pocket. "Anyways, you're about to have an interview with the principal." "The principal?!" He exclaimed confused. 

 "There's a high probability he could reject you so make sure you go all out." M/n said once again picking at his nails in amusement. "What then! Immediate execution?" He snapped making the former quirk a brow at his statement. A small mouth formed onto his cheek. 

"So you're not the boss? Pathetic, a hierarchy that isn't based off of strength is worthless." Itadori slapped a hand over his cheek, keeping Sukuna from further speaking. "I'm sorry about him, he pops out." "You have quite the amusing body now." M/n cheekily said. Another small mouth popped out, this time located on his hand. "I owe you a favor you know."

"Not again!" 

"Once I make this brat's body my own, you'll be the first one I kill. The male next to you will once again be my king when I take my crown back." M/n crossed his arms in confusion. 

"It's an honor to be targeted by Sukuna himself, but what do you mean 'your king once again'? 

"Have you ever wondered what caused the incident ten years ago? And why the Elders were so keen on raising him?" The mouth disappeared leaving both Gojo and M/n astounded at the new information.

 'How does Sukuna know about that, and why did the elders drop the case as if it were nothing.' "You wouldn't do that would you senpai?" A hopeful smile painted on Itadori's face. "...." The words couldn't form as M/n stood wide-eyed at the curse's words.

  'I wouldn't, would I?...'

Next

#jujutsu kaisen #seme male reader #gojo satoru x male reader #itadori yuji x top male reader #jjk itadori #jjk fushiguro #jjk nobara #zenin #inumaki #sukuna ryomen x male reader #dazai osamu #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #top male reader #suicidal maniac #jjk

[slowly-writing]

Short

Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader

Avengers x Romanoff!Reader

Word count: 1.4K

Requested by anon: Little widow is super short and all the avengers find it adorable.

A/N: as someone who is 5’11” (180cm) I did the best I could with this one. I apologize if it’s not very accurate 

“Woah! Let me grab that, y/n,” Steve says as he wraps one arm around your waist, the other hand grabbing the box of granola bars you were climbing for.

“I almost had it,” you whine as he sets you down.

“Yeah sure. Almost had a concussion is more like it,” Tony teases and you glare.

“I had everything under control. I was almost tall enough to reach it,” you cross your arms over your chest and your mom coughs to cover a laugh.

“You were balancing on a stool that was teetering on one leg on your…” she pauses to pick up the book, “biology textbook. Great, glad you’re getting some use out of that.”

“Yeah well, it won’t tell me why I haven’t hit my growth spurt yet, so at least it’s good for something,” you shrug, grabbing it from her hands and shoving it in your bag.

“Kid, don’t you think you’re a little old-“

“Don’t!” You cut Tony off. “I am not too old for a growth spurt. I don’t care how old I am. I refuse to be 5’1 for the rest of my life.”

“Alright,” he raises his hands in surrender and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever. I’m gonna be late for school.”

“Have a good day,” your mom calls.

“Try not to get mistaken for a freshman again,” Clint’s words are acknowledged by way of you flipping him off as you make your way out the door.

xxxxx

“Here,” Peter appears behind you, grabbing the textbook you were jumping for.

“Thanks,” you grumble and he grins.

“Are you sure you don’t want to switch lockers? It’s killing my back to crouch down to the lower ones anyway. Jumping doesn’t seem like the most effective use of your locker,” he offers for the tenth time and you shake your head.

“I’m fine! I can reach it all!”

“Yeah when I use my powers for you,” Wanda’s voice calls and you turn, glaring.

“Whole lot of help you were this morning. Steve’s convinced I almost broke my neck climbing for my breakfast,” you whine and she chuckles, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“My deepest apologies. I’ll just skip my morning training with Agent Hill. I’m sure that would go over just fine,” she teases and you roll your eyes, leaning into her nonetheless.

“You just gotta get on her good side. I get to do my training after school instead of before,” you smirk and she rolls her eyes.

“That’s because she’s known you since you were three and therefore treats you like family. Not an agent,” Wanda retorts and you just shrug.

“Ya know, it’s  the 21st century,” Peter’s still stuck on the previous topic and you shake your head. “I don’t think scavenging for food is supposed to be a life threatening process anymore. Cause like, evolution and all that,”

“Well y/n’s evolution didn’t get the message,” Wanda responds and you smack both their shoulders.

“You guys suck,” you whine and Wanda laughs.

“We’re only teasing, love. You’re adorable. We have to tease you to compete for some attention. You’re too cute to look away from.” You eye Wanda for a few moments.

“I can’t tell if that was supposed to be patronizing or not, but it’s too early to analyze all that, so I’m gonna go with thank you as my response,” you tell her, standing up on your toes and pulling her down by the collar of her shirt to kiss her cheek.

“You can’t even reach your girlfriend's face to kiss her,” Peter chokes out through a laugh.

“At least I have a girlfriend,” you try to jab back but he brushes right over it.

“Say, have you ever been on a roller coaster before? Or do you not measure up yet?” He says and you lunge for him. He quickly places a hand on your forehead, holding you back where your arms can’t reach him. You can feel your cheeks heat up as Wanda tries her best to hide her laugh behind you. You hit his elbow, making his arm buckle, and pull it over your shoulder. You use his weight against him as he stumbles forward and throw him over your shoulder.

“Holy shit,” Wanda breaths out.

“How the hell did you do that?” Peter asks as he catches his breath and you shrug.

“Did you forget who my mom is? I learned how to do that when I was 8. We were literally talking about my training like 30 seconds ago,” you call over your shoulder as you take Wanda’s hand and pull her to class.

xxxxxx

What’s up losers?” Mj asks as she joins your group.

“We’re thinking about heading to the tower to study for the geometry test next week, wanna come?” Peter asks, unphased by MJ’s snarkiness. Loser is pretty much a term of endearment in her book.

“Plus it’s movie night  if you guys wanna crash it. Fair warning though, it’s Steve’s turn to pick so it’ll probably be old as hell,” you add in and Ned nods.

“Sounds awesome! I’ll watch an old movie if it means hanging with the avengers!” His enthusiasm brings a smile to your face, though it’s quickly knocked off as MJ uses your head as an armrest.

“I’m in,” she says and you glare up at her, elbowing her in the ribs.

“Too bad, you’re not invited anymore,” you say angrily and she laughs.

“Anyone else feel like they’re being yelled at by a middle schooler when she’s mad?” She teases again and Wanda quickly wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling your back into her chest.

“But she doesn’t fight like a middle schooler, Peter learned that the hard way this morning. So let’s lay off before someone ends up with a black eye, alright?” Wanda says calmly and you sink into her embrace. You grab one of her hands from where they’re laced together by your chest and start playing with the rings on her fingers.

“I don’t look like a kid,” you mumble and you feel Wanda place a kiss on the top of your head.

“Of course you don’t” she reasures you.

“Yeah, totally. The whining totally helps your case Romanoff,” Peter adds and you glare as you all make your way out of the school.

xxxxx

“Race to the movie room?” Peter suggests and Ned frowns.

“But y/n’s like, short as hell, no offense,” he says and you laugh at his innocent look, “how is that fair.”

“Don’t worry Ned. I’ll manage,” you say before Peter takes off everyone else following suit. THey weave around the furniture and you smirk, placing your hand on the back of the sofa and throwing yourself over it. One foot lands on the coffee table and you use it to push off of, grabbing the pull up bar in the doorway that Steve insisted needed to be in the common room (you still think it’s cause he likes to show off) and doing an elegant flip, laning in front of the door to the movie room with a bow.

“Seriously, how the hell do you do that kind of stuff?” MJ asks, slightly out of breath, but still smiling since she beat Peter.

“What part of ‘raised by an assassin’ isn’t clicking for you guys?” you ask and a voice behind them draws their attention.

“Hey, I stopped being an assassin long before I started raising you,” your mom argues and you just shrug.

“Doesn’t make you any less paranoid or scary. You’re the one who insisted I needed to know how to defend myself, so I’m simply reaping the benefits,” you say with a grin, leaning into Wanda who is rolling her eyes at your antics.

“I seem to remember you begging me to train you so you could go on missions,” your mom counters with a raised eyebrow. Before you can respond Tony’s voice comes from the room you just vacated.

“Why the hell is there a footprint on my table?” He yells and you all freeze.

“Maybe if we’re quiet he won’t know we’re here?” Ned whispers, but even he sounds unsure of the plan.

“I can see the pile of backpacks by the elevator. When I find out whose foot was on my table they’re grounded. I don’t care if you’re not my children,” Tony yells again.

“Race you to...anywhere but here!” you whisper-yell before taking off, the four teenagers hot on your trail as your mom rolls her eyes behind you.

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnightdaily-blog @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx 

#natasha romanoff x kid!reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #black widow x daughter!reader #black widow x teen!reader #Black widow x kid!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x romanoff!reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #short

[melaninpozp]

ACROSS THE STREET:

- Eren Yeager x Cheerleader reader!

Warnings: smut, 19 year old eren duh, degradation, use of the word “ slut” and whore” a few times, handjob, eren getting head , hair pulling, overall smut, Knife play, 

summary: It’s the day before Halloween, You were heading home from cheer practice with the pretty bow in your hair, It was chilly out. As you stop in front of your Halloween decorated house , There was someone in front of your bushes. He was wearing a black mask, a black cover up , and black combat boots. You notice the a figure standing in front of your bushes, His back was facing your house. What the hell? Who could it be? Was he trying to fuck around with you, who knows.

Facts about in this fic: This ‘ figure’ has been watching you at your cheer practices for the past few months. He’s been watching you, Stalking you, Obsessing over you, He just thought you were so beautiful, So attractive.. How far would he talk this?

“Okay, that's a wrap for today, Have a beautiful night ladies, and have a Happy Halloween!” Your coach announces, clapping her hands at how well you all did today. You’ve been apart of this cheer team for 6 months so far, It went really well, You were the best on your team. Some of the other girls on your team were jealous, this happened quite often. They were jealous of the fact that you had effort in how you cheer, The body movements, the techniques, The facial expressions, All of it. They wanted what you had. They just had to work really hard for it in that case. 

“Hey, Y/n.” Your cheer teammate Jali says, Flipping her hair to her back and slightly hovering over you.

You raise an eyebrow and turn her way, looking at her.” Hey, wassup?” Y/n says, looking at her teammate who had a plate of cookies on top of the palm of her hand. 

Those cookies look slightly. Tasty.

“Would you like a cookie? The other girls weren’t hungry and told me to get lost so I came over here to chat with you.”Jali says, smiling down at you. Jali was pretty tall, she was about 5′8-5′9 range and had a beautiful smile.

“I’d love to have one.”

She was adorable.

“They shouldn’t be speaking to you like that, do you want me to handle it? That wasn’t very nice of them.” Y/n says, nicely taking  a cookie, taking a bite and digesting the warm and soft treat. It was really, really tasty. Just as tasty as you expected. 

“No it’s okay Y/n, don’t worry about them. They’re always like that, I hope you have a nice Halloween and text me if you need anything , bye love.”Jali says, smiling and giving you a warm hug before walking off and offering the coach some cookies.

Y/n smiles and watches Jali walk away after pulling away from the hug, Walking over to her cheer bag and throwing it over her back, before sliding her long jacket on and getting ready to go.

You take a look behind you and see the group of mean cheer ladies staring you and laughing, You roll your eyes at them and zip your jacket up.

“Have a nice Halloween, coach! If I were you, I wouldn’t pass any candy out to those girls.” Y/n points to the group of gossiping and rude cheerleaders  , Y/n smiling at her coach and walking out the door, beginning to walk home.

“Now, to head home. ”Y/n whispers to herself before playing some music in her headphones and walking to her house.

While walking to your house, your fucking legs began to hurt, Like really hurt, The techniques you guys practice today in cheer weren’t that bad, maybe the day before your legs were also hurting or in some kind of pain, Who knows. You just wanted to get home as fast as possible.

The only thing that was occupying you was your music that was blasting through your headphones. You see your house coming up and you couldn’t be happier, You get your keys out and look up, Gasping and immediately covering your mouth at the sudden black figure appearing in front of your house, but his back was facing your house. Was this some kid fucking with you? What the hell did he want.

“Hi, C-can I help you?” Y/n says softly, slowly taking her earbuds out and looking at this figure. 

No response.

“Are you okay? You want me to call anyone for you? ”Y/n tries again, slowly stepping up her patio steps and unlocking her front door carefully, incase the man moved or was gonna attack at some point. 

Again, no response.

Once you step into your house, you immediately shut the door and lock it, keeping your eyes on the man and folding your arms.

“The fuck is this dude doing?” Y/n says and frowns, rolling her eyes walking away and heading upstairs, running her shower water.

Once walking into your comfortable room you notice how cloudy and dark the clouds are getting, The man still standing out there and facing the other houses that were across from yours. Looking inside your closet you grab a oversized Halloween sweater, deciding to not have a bra on, Heading to your bathroom, you quickly get in the shower and begin washing off. Scrubbing your entire body and getting every spot.

After about 5-10 minutes, you turn the shower water off and step out, drying yourself off and opening the bathroom door. Walking to your room and beginning to lotion and oil up your body, playing soft loft music in the background. You look outside again and notice it’s sprinkling rain.

Is he still out there.. You thought to yourself.

Sliding your sweater and panties on, Y/n gets up and opens her window a little bit, letting some of the cold air in. As you look outside, you notice the figure is now facing your house, but.. He was looking up at you, pointing a knife at you from where you were standing inside of your house. What the fuck?

You widen your eyes and frown, backing up and beginning to run out your room, You feel someone or something tug you by the hair and slam you onto the soft carpet floor almost making you break your neck, You open your mouth and feel your head, almost screaming at how bad your head hurts from the figure tugging your hair so hard.

You heard hard footsteps take a step toward you, standing over you.” Aw. Look at how pretty and scared you look..” This anonymous person says, looking down at you and gently gliding the knife against your ankles. Your eyes begin filling up with tears at how exhilarating the pain is, trying your best to keep your eyes open, You squint your eyes and finally realize who it is, It was the man that was standing outside your house, How the hell did he get in? Why is he going after you? What does he want from you? You were gonna find out really soon.

“P-please what do you want from me, what did I do.. ”Y/n says and crawls away on her back, using her elbows to scoot back and look up at the man in black.

“I didn’t ask you to speak, keep your fucking mouth shut or I’ll cut you up myself.” He speaks, looking down at you and still holding the knife with a firm grip.

“A little back story..I’m Eren, but you.” He points to you with the knife he’s still standing, now kneeling to your level.” You call me daddy, you understand that?” He says and keeps gently dragging his knife against your ankle.

He looks up at you from the holes in his mask, slowly watching your blood trickle against the knife.” I said do you understand?” He didn’t mean to cut you, he was so focused on how pretty you looked, looking at that luscious hair of yours, How pretty you looked in that sweater, he was analyzing each apart of your body. This man is absolutely insane.

At this point you’re in lots of pain, starting with your head, then to your hip, and last but not least, to your ankle that was supposedly cut, not too deep.

“I understand, I-im sorry, please don’t kill me! Please!” Y/n says softly and looks at the man, shaking her head.

“Now why would I do something so dumb like that hm? You’re too fucking pretty to hurt, now get your ass up on your, that okay with you?”Eren says, standing up and beginning to unzip his jacket, his abs showing and how perfect his body looked.

You nod your head and slowly rise to your knees and look up at him. “P-please, Eren..”Y/n whispers under her breath and lets out a whimper, scared at the fact that Eren might’ve heard her.

Oh shit, he did.

“The fuck did you say?” He says and pulls you by your neck, making you look up at him ” I thought I told you to address me as, Daddy.. Look at you on your knees like a slut  for me ”He says and lifts your sweater up, pulling it over your head.

“You want this, Y/n? ”He says and smirks. How the fuck did he know your name.

“Y-yes I do daddy, I do!” Y/n lets out and looks up at him, getting wet at how hot he looks. Your eyes begin trickling down to his hard on, he looked so fucking big. 

“You're gonna take this cock like I know you can, okay? Be a good girl for me and we’ll see if you survive or not.”Eren chuckles and looks down at you before sliding his mask off and throwing it to the side.

Oh...Fuck..He was hot. He had his hair tied back in a bun and his beautiful big green eyes glaring down at you, his lips closed and looking at you.” Are you gonna take my dick out or what?” He says and clenches his jaw.

“I-im so sorry daddy, I’ll go right ahead.” Y/n says and begins unbuttoning the man’s pants and watch them fall to the floor along with his boxers. Your instincts were right, he was big. Around 7-8 inches in length, his tip looked so red and needy. You were gonna get to work as fast as possible.

You learn forward and begin jerking off  Eren’s dick, looking up at him and smirking.” Like this, daddy?” Y/n says and giggles, jerking him off faster.

“Oh fuck, just like that, darling.” He moans out and tosses his head back.

Y/n leans forward and begins sucking his cock, closing her eyes and as always, jerking off what she can’t fit in her mouth, enjoying every moment of her mouth going back and forth on his dick.

“That’s right little whore, love the way you take my cock like a good girl.” Eren says and brushes your hair back , taking a good look at how gorgeous your face looks.” Daddy apologizes for pulling your hair so hard, I deeply apologize, mi amor.”He smirks and lets out a deep groan, fuck he loved how gorgeous and slutty you looked at the same time.

You whimper and wink up at him, sucking his cock faster and jerking your hand faster.

“Daddy’s gonna cum, fuuck, dollface.”He lets out, gently grabbing your hair and beginning to face fuck your mouth and watching your spit slobber over his cock, pushing him over the edge.

“Fuuck, babe!”Eren says before cumming deep down your throat, looking down at you and slowly pulling out your mouth.

“Stick that tongue out, baby.”Eren says and looks down at you.

You stick your tongue out and let out a cute giggle.” Now swallow daddy’s cum.”He says and watches you.

You nod your head and swallow all of his cum, moaning at how warm and good he tastes.

“That’s a good slut, now get up and bend over that table, it’s gonna be a long spooky night for us doll. “Eren says, smiling and looking at how proud you are of swallowing his cum like a good girl, not even a second ago.

#eren yeager #eren yeager smut #attack on titan smut #attack on titan #smut #anime smut #halloween #anime

[writteninkat]

Forever and Always | Bakugou x Reader

summary: "And I stare at the phone, he still hasn't called. And then I feel so low I can't feel nothing at all. And I flashback to when he said forever and always."

w/c: 2.1k

warnings: angst

a/n: i cried while writing this.

navigation

Eijirou's body is amazing; scultped abs, hard chest, chiseled arms and such broad shoulders. You watched as he did pull ups in front of you, with his back facing towards you. He lets go of the bars, turning around, smiling as he extends his hand. "Babe, can you pass me my towel please?"

"Babe, can you pass me my towel please?" Katsuki asks, sweat dripping down the side of his head, trailing down his neck, collar and chest before getting absorbed in his black tank top.

You throw him his towel, standing up from the bench. You lean forward, standing on your tippy toes to press your lips against his. The blond chuckles breathily, pouting a little, pressing his lips against yours.

Butterflies swarmed your tummy and you feel your heart skip a beat. This always happened whenever you kissed Katsuki. No matter how many times you've kissed him and no matter how long the both of you had been dating, he never failed to give you butterflies.

You feel someone step in front of you, snapping you out of your daze. You blink, looking up at the red head who's now taking his towel on his own.

"Ah, sorry babe. What were you saying?" You ask to which Eijirou shakes his head at. "It's okay, I got it." He wipes the sweat off his face, smiling brightly at you.

"Anyway, do you wanna go to that old ice cream parlor beside here? They don't have new flavors since like five years ago but I thought you might like a cone."

"I wanna go to that ice cream place beside the here." You pout, disregarding just how sweaty your boyfriend was as you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. "That's a bad habit, idiot. Stop pigging out right after hitting the gym." He laughs, flicking your forehead to which you knit your eyebrows at.

"Oh come on! They have a new flavor called 'blueberry cheesecake'! We should totally try it!" You whine, watching as your boyfriend packs his things in his gym bag. "You've eaten a blueberry cheesecake before, haven't you? Just imagine that but colder."

Despite what he said, he opens the door to the ice cream parlor for you. Sweat gone, the both of you had showered and changed your clothes before entering the cozy ice cream parlor.

The both of you sit by the window, looking out and enjoying the beautiful scenery of the mountains right behind the store.

You look back at your boyfriend who's sitting right in front of you, supposedly to tell him about the pretty bird you just saw, but stop once you saw how pretty he looked when he wasn't frowning or yelling.

Calm, softly smiling Katsuki Bakugou looking out and appreciating the beauty of nature. Your heart throbbed at the thought of how lucky you are to have him. Despite his harsh and loud nature towards others, he always gave off a different vibe when it came to you. He was much gentler, more careful with his choice of words and his actions.

His eyes flick towards you and he raises a brow. "Take a picture, it will last longer."

You smile, opening up your gallery to show off the many, many pictures you have of him stored in a secret album. You smile cheekily at him, "Already have a ton, thank you very much."

Katsuki smiles, chuckling as he shakes his head. "Idiot."

"Babe? You okay? You've been out of it since I asked you to hand me my towel, did I say something wrong?" You snap out of your daze once again, cursing at yourself. You look up at your boyfriend, smiling as you shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I think I need to head home and sleep. You have a meeting an hour from now, right? You should go." You press a kiss against Eijirou's cheek, smiling at him. "I'll wait for you at home."

You walk out of the gym, bag on your shoulder as you take a deep breath of fresh air in. You look up at the sky, frowning to see them all gray and cloudy. You begin walking down the road, looking around you.

The stores from before hadn't change at all. Especially-

"Ah! If it isn't my dear Y/n! Will you buy your usual caramel ice cream today too?" The old lady who runs the ice cream shop chirps at you, hands shaking as she grabs onto her cane to prevent herself from falling over.

"Granny! You know you can't be walking around, the doc said so!" Her granddaughter's voice is filled with concern as she places a hand below granny's elbow and on her back. She looks up at you, smiling apologetically.

"Sorry, I guess Alzheimer's also makes her forget she can't walk properly now?" She jokes, chuckling awkwardly. You smile, bowing your head.

You walk right past the ice cream parlor, oblivious to granny's pout to your declination of her invite. You stuff your hands in your pocket, looking up at the sky as you sigh. Before you know it, your gaze falls upon the top of your apartment building.

"I'm home! And guess what I got you!" You chirp, entering your apartment as you hold the white plastic bag full of food in your hand. The sound of quick padded footsteps make you giggle as you set the bag oncthe counter.

Katsuki appears right in front the kitchen, excited eyes and a wide grin across his face making you laugh. He quickly rummages through the contents of the bag, yelling in excitement as he pulls out a red ramen cup.

"Hell yeah, extra spicy!" He cheers, running over to you to pull you into a tight hug. "Thanks babe!" He presses multiple kisses on the top of your head before pulling away to start boiling his water.

"Hey! It's not even dinner time yet!" You jokingly frown, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You loved Seeing Katsuki like this; all bubbly and cheery and excited. Such a sweet and bright soul, you come to a conclusion that yes, you are definitely going to love this boy forever.

You walk right past the kitchen, body feeling heavy as you make your way inside your shared bedroom. You drop your bag onto the carpeted floors and find your legs leading you towards your walk-in closet.

You bend down, pulling out a locked box from underneath your hung clothes. You sit on the floor, pressing on the code to unlcok the box before pulling the lif open.

The contents inside caused your heart to clench.

Butterfly pins.

"Idiot, what are you doing?" Katsuki frowns, tilting his head up to look at you. Your brows knit together as you push his head back, forcing him to face front. "I'm making your hair pretty!" You huff, clipping on the butterfly pins onto his hair.

"My hair's already damn pretty even without the stupid hairpins!" He argues.

"Then I'm making it prettier so sit still!"

"Tsk," Katsuki rolls his eyes, "Then you better do an amazing job. Don't mess up, idiot."

"That'll be pretty hard to accomplish if you keep moving your darn head like that!"

"Hah?! What did you just say to me?!"

Sumigadawa Fireworks Festival Polaroid

"Quit tugging, idiot!" Katsuki yells but remains ignored as you push through the crowd. The fireworks display was going to start soon but you wanted to enjoy a Taiyaki as you watched the display.

You jump excitedly in place, still tugging at your boyfriend's sleeve as you pointed as the sweet snack. Katsuki sighs, pulling out his wallet. The both of you end up buying two pieces, one for each of you.

As you move to start going back to where the field was, Katsuki pulls you back. You lift a brow at him and he begin pulling you to the opposite direction, now it was him dragging you.

"Suki, where are we going? The fireworks display will start soon!" You yell through the loud crowd of people. "Tsk. I know, idiot. Just trust me!" He yells, as he continues pulling you towards a place with a bunch of trees. The two of you walk up a hil for quite some time and as you reached the top, you're panting and you can feel your back dampening at the sudden work out.

"What the heck are we-" The sound of fireworks cut you off. You immediately turn to your right, following the direction of the sound. Your eyes widen as a clear view of the fireworks explode in front of you.

As you stare up at the brightly colored night sky in awe, Katsuki smiles at your dumb face. The colors of the fireworks lit your face ever so beautifully. How did he get so lucky to have you?

Your hand grabs onto his arm as your other one points up at the sky, "Look! Look! That one's pretty!" You point at a pink one slowly disappearing into the night sky.

"Hah! Bet I can create better ones." Katsuki shows off.

"Oh really? Prove it."

And just like that, he opens his palm in front of you a small explosions are created, just like the fireworks. You smile, watching it was similar to watch a snow globe after shaking it.

As your eyes continue to watch Katsuki's mini fireworks, he oulls you out of your daze by cupping your cheek. You look up at him, raising your brows before smiling, leaning in.

His lips are soft, sweet and warm. You never want to part from them.

A Promise Ring.

/"Why won't you fucking listen to me?!" You yell from the top of your lungs, feeling them burn as your tears scortched your cheeks.

"There are already enough heroes out there! You don't need to go-"

"I need to, Y/n! God fucking dammit I need to! Because I'm a hero! Because it's my job, it's my duty to keep people safe. To risk my life keeping you all safe!" Katsuki yells back, slamming his suit case close as you stand there in front of him, weak and helpless.

"Izuku said your chances of surviving the war would be-"

"Baby, baby, look at me." Katsuki shushes, cupping your cheeks. He wipes your tears away as he looks into your eyes, red orbs looking back at you. Soft, gentle and hurt red orbs look back at you. "I'll be fine." He whispers.

You place your hands on top of his, closing your eyes as you let your tears fall, your lower lip shaking as you let out an unever breath. Katsuki presses his lips on your forehead, wrapping his arms around you.

"Take off your ring." He says, pulling away from the hug. You do as told, face still flushed as you haven't finished crying yet. With shaky hands, you take off your ring.

"Look inside it." Katsuki mutters.

You do as told, feeling your heart clench in your chest.

"What does it say?" He asks.

"Forever and always."

You sob on the floor, bringing your legs up to your chest as you recall the feeling of your world crushing the second you heard the news from Izuku.

Your body grew heavy as you fell to your knees, your tears streaming down your chest at his pained expression. He crouches down, placing a hand on your shoulder. You sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed, so loud your throat hurt.

Katsuki was your world. He meant everything to you. Now that he was gone, what do you have left to lose?

"He promised me!" You yell from the top of your lungs, "He promised to call me as soon as he was done! Why didn't he call?! Why hasn't he called yet?!" Your head throbbed as Izuku's geip on your shoulder tightened.

It wasn't just you who had lost a loved one, him and all your other friends, too. You banged your fist against your chest as you sobbed heavily, finding it difficult to breath, to take in the information that Katsuki was gone.

"I told him! I told him not to go!" You yelled right at Izuku, holding onto his shoulders. "Katsuki! My Katsuki! He's gone!" The pain you felt is unbearable, it's something you can't understand, it's something you never want to experience again.

"You promised me, forever and always!" You yell from the top of your lungs. "Where are you now? Why aren't you beside me? Where's my forever with you?" You sobbed, your tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably.

As you cry out your frustrations and anguish in one room, Eijirou sits in another room, face wet with his tears as he blubbered in the memory of his best friend.

It's times like these that you agree to David Jones; life went on, but it was never the same again.

#i cried like a lil b!tch so what #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #mha bakugou #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #bakugou angst #mha imagines #mha angst #bnha angst #my hero angst #my hero academia angst #boku no hero angst

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 4,565 Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, typical TWD stuff A/N: This is Part 5 of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: A violent encounter outside the walls only increases Daryl's questions and concerns about Y/N.

Your name: submit What is this?

You immediately and instinctively grappled for your knife at your hip and unsheathed it, staring up in horror at the two men now standing over you. A lot happened very quickly. It must have only been matter of seconds, but it felt immensely long.

“Ohhhh, sweetheart. You’re in trouble,” one of them said, laughing as he glanced over at the man beside him.

You tightened your grip on your knife but the next moment there was a swift kick to your wrist and then a boot came down on it, crushing it into the floor, eliciting another yell from you. Your knife clattered away and you followed it with your eyes desperately.

You struggled to get away but the man was suddenly grabbing you by the ankles and dragging you closer.

“Get the fuck off me!” you growled. You lashed out with your boot and caught him in the face with the toe.

“Agh! You fuckin’ bitch!” he roared, spitting out blood onto the floor. He let out an animalistic growl and stood over you. “You’re coming—with us!” His words were punctuated with strong kicks into your ribs, which left you unable to cry out or even to breathe. You curled into yourself on the floor, willing your diaphragm to unclench and draw breath.

Daryl. The only desperate thought in your mind.

The man who was standing over you suddenly dropped down so he was straddling over your writhing form. “I said, you’re coming with us. Back where you belong.”

You finally were able to wheeze in a breath and glared up at him. “Fuck. You,” you spat, disdain contorting your face. Where the hell was Daryl? you thought desperately.

“This will go a lot easier if you don’t fight it!” his partner shouted down at you, rifling through his bag for something. “We don’t want to hurt ya!”

You shot a knee up as hard as you could and caught the man over you in the tailbone. When he doubled over forward, swearing with his face growing more and more red, you did the only thing you could think of and headbutted him in the face. Hard. As hard as you could.

His nose crunched sickeningly and started to bleed profusely. He let out an anguished scream while you were seeing stars. Fat, crimson drops fell down onto you as you struggled, still beneath him. You were trying to extract your body from beneath his but his weight was too much. He was now completely enraged and the next thing you felt was his hands around your neck, squeezing, compressing. You couldn’t breathe. You tried to break out of it but his hands were so large they wrapped completely around your neck, compressing blood vessels and your airway. Your scratched and clawed at his hands, trying desperately to pull them away. You started to see spots and darkening around the edges of your vision. You clawed at his arms with your fingernails and tried to break his grip at the elbows. You were vaguely aware of some commotion in the background as your struggling grew weaker by the second. You were going to black out.

But suddenly, you could breathe and the weight of him on top of you was gone.

You curled over on the floor, coughing and sputtering, gasping in rasping breaths desperately.

“Y/N! Y/N!?” Daryl’s voice nearby, completely frantic.

You couldn’t stop coughing. Your throat was on fire. Your neck felt raw.

“Jesus—can ya breathe?!” Daryl’s urgent voice again. You felt his hand on your shoulder.

You finally managed to gain control of your gasping breaths again and rasped out. “I’m okay,” nodding but unable to look over at him. You submitted to another coughing attack. Your gasps were wheezes like a kid with asthma.

Daryl was kneeling beside you with his crossbow in his hand. “Are ya sure?!”

You finally glanced over at him, certain your face was bright red and your expression desperate. His features were overwhelmed with panic and concern, blue eyes piercing through the curtain of dark hair around his face. You nodded. “Uhh… I think so. Mostly.” You winced, feeling pain suddenly shooting through your wrist and ribs and a pounding in your forehead as the wave of adrenaline had crested and now started to diminish. “Fuck… What the fuck?” you said, glancing around. There were the bodies of the two men, both with a crossbow bolt through their head.

Daryl clenched his teeth and gently grasped your arm. “C’mon.” He pulled you gingerly to your feet. You stayed hunched over, an arm wrapped around your ribs. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to steel yourself for a moment.

“Fuck…” you muttered again, not even meaning to speak it out loud.

Daryl froze, looking at you with his brow furrowed. His stomach was rolling with regret. “I—'M’ sorry. I should have been faster. I—but this goddamn ankle and I had to get my bow loaded and—”

You raised a hand to quiet him and shook your head. “S’not your fault. At all,” you said, pressing a few fingers to a particularly raw feeling spot on your neck.

But Daryl was blaming himself. He should have been there faster. The angry red marks around your throat were burning into his memory. He bit back his anger at himself and re-secured the front door as best he could. He glared down at the two corpses and retrieved his bolts. He nudged his head in the direction of the other room.

You followed him in, still hunched over. He pointed at the couch and you sank down onto it slowly, hissing through your teeth with each movement.

Daryl set his crossbow down and immediately grabbed his pack. As he was digging around inside it, he spoke with some anxiousness. “Ya know them?” he asked, not looking up from his bag.

You gulped. “What?”

All his movement stalled, his hands still inside his pack, clutching medical supplies. “They sounded like they recognized ya. Said you’re ‘comin’ back where ya belong.’ Did ya—d’ya know them?” When he finished the question, this time his eyes flickered up to your face, watching your reaction carefully.

You were gingerly holding your wrist in the other hand and Daryl thought your eyes looked a bit frantic. You didn’t answer. You seemed—frozen.

Daryl nodded and shrugged, turning back to the pack. “S’alright. Ya ain’t gotta say.” He felt like he pretty much had his answer. “What hurts?” he asked you gently.

You didn’t answer for a moment and Daryl thought he saw waves of panic rising and falling in your eyes.

“Y/N—” he said again.

You seemed to come back to reality, grounded by the sound of his voice saying your name. “Umm… right. I—my wrist. I think that’s the only thing we can do something for. Nothing to do about my ribs,” you said with a wince, your breath hitching every time you tried to inhale too deeply.

Daryl pulled out some gauze and materials to splint your wrist, which he suspected was broken, based on the swelling and how it was already changing colors. “We need to get ya back to an actual doctor,” he mused. “Tomorrow I’ll see if I can find a car close. We can take it back to our truck. Can’t let that wrist go too long without gettin’ set.” His eyes continually found the ring of angry red around your neck and he watched as you pressed a hand to your head, which was pounding.

“You can’t go out there by yourself. You’ve got a fucked-up ankle,” you argued.

Daryl shot you a look and heaved a sigh, leaning his arm on his bent knee where he was crouched. “Well, now out of the two of us I’m in the best shape. So, we’re gonna do what I say and you’re gonna sit here and rest. Ya got a broken wrist and probably some cracked ribs. Not to mention that fucker nearly choked the life out of ya.” His tone told you arguing was pointless. “Now gimme your damn arm.”

You avoided his eyes and held out your hurt wrist. His rough hands on your skin was grounding and you were again reminded of how he had insisted on stitching your arm up that night when you came back after your last bad run-in outside the walls. He was amazingly gentle. You marveled at how small your arm looked in his hands—like something fragile. Daryl was trying to minimize the skin-to-skin contact—almost fearful of what was happening inside him every time his skin brushed yours, but it was a little difficult to do while he was tending to you. He splinted and wrapped your wrist, frowning at the way your thumb was already bruising purple. “Ya scared the shit outta me,” he murmured softly, not even meaning for it to actually fall from his lips.

You raised your eyes to his face in surprise but he was still fixated on bandaging you up. “I’ll, uhh, try not to do it again,” you said, and Daryl was relieved to hear that your voice had relaxed some, though the rasp was still in it.

“Better not,” he growled. He grabbed a small gauze pad and poured a little alcohol on it. “Here. Ya got a pretty good scratch on your jaw there.” He scooted closer to you and watched as you swiped a few fingers over it.

“Oh,” you said, looking at the rusty color that came away on your fingers. “Probably did that to myself trying to pry him off of me…”

Daryl’s expression darkened. “Mhm.” He hesitated a moment before dabbing at the scratch with the pad. “Really. Ya scared me.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Rosita exclaimed as she heaved the gate open to let you and Daryl into Alexandria. “Thank God!” she exclaimed next, looking both of you up and down. “Rick was about to send out a search party. We’ve all been worried sick. Aaron has been driving me insane, coming up to the gate every ten seconds to ask if I’ve seen anything.” Her eyes finally seemed to register the full extent of your injuries and she froze. “Y/N—your neck… Oh my God. What the hell happened?” she pressed, shutting and latching the gate behind you both.

“Uhh…” you walked unevenly, your uninjured arm wrapped around your ribs, though it did nothing to lessen the shooting hot knives of pain with every breath. “Walkers. And then more walkers. And then a corpse and rotten floor boards. And then—” you hesitated., suddenly feeling sick.

“And then people,” Daryl finished gruffly, sparing a glance over at you, his face darkening with worry.

“Shit,” Rosita said, her eyes going round. “A corpse? As in, not a walker? And did you say something about rotten floor boards?”

You nodded. “Yeah...”

Daryl shot her a look that clearly said ‘later.’

“Sorry—just… I need to get to the doctor to fix my wrist before it heals this way,” you said, avoiding her eyes.

“Right! Right, of course. I’ll grab someone else for guard duty and go tell everyone you’re alright. Here, I’ll take your guns.” You and Daryl handed over your weapons and Rosita hurried off.

You limped your way to the clinic and he insisted on holding the door open for you and letting you go in first. Surprisingly, Pete was still there. You always assumed he just was drunk after 4:30 pm.

“Whoa! Looks like we’re running a little ragged, huh? Come on in and sit down and let’s have a look at you,” he said jovially. You eyed him with distaste.

“Where’s Denise?” you asked.

Pete looked around the room dramatically, hands outstretched. “Not here. So, shall we—”

“I would prefer to see Denise.” Your tone was cold.

Pete let out a laugh which he only managed to make sound half-genuine. “She isn’t here so—”

“I’ll wait,” you snapped. You limped over to an exam table and sat down, your countenance stormy.

Pete glanced at Daryl and he shook his head. “Nah. Just her. I’m good. Sprained ankle is all.”

Pete let out an exhale that was mostly a growl. “I guess I went to med school to be an errand boy,” he muttered under his breath, but nonetheless, he left to find Denise.

Daryl sank down on a rolling stool and scooted over to sit near you. “Hey,” he said suddenly.

You snapped out of some deep reverie you were having and looked at him.

“Ya alright?” he asked. “Really. I mean, that was some serious shit that happened out there…”

You nodded. “Fine.” You uninjured hand went to absently touch the bruises on your neck, which were now dark and mottled. “Thanks to you.”

Daryl shrugged. “S’nothin’. Wish I had been faster.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “No. No, it was definitely something…” Despite your assurance that you were okay, Daryl had the sense that it wasn’t entirely true. You were alive, sure, but since those men had busted into the house you had been uneasy. It wasn’t lost on him that you turned to glance behind the truck the whole drive back to Alexandria, and even now, safe inside the walls, you were rigid and on edge. You should have known better than to try and bullshit Daryl. The archer was annoyingly good at reading you. But, to be fair, you were also annoyingly good at reading him.

Your eyes shot up as the clinic door burst open loudly. Aaron ran in with his mouth dropped partially open and wide eyes. “Oh, thank God,” he said, rushing over to you and Daryl and immediately grabbing you into a tight hug.

“Ow! Ow ow ow! Aaron!”

Aaron drew back suddenly at your exclamations. “Oh—God, I’m sorry.” His eyes found the bruising on your neck and his face blanched. “Oh my God. What the hell happened? Are you alright?” he asked desperately.

“Define alright,” Daryl murmured.

You shot him a scolding look. “Yes, that’s what I need. Worry him more. Thanks, Daryl,” you said.

“What happened?” Aaron asked desperately again. It wasn’t lost on him how you avoided his eyes as you answered.

“Just—people. Bad people,” you said.

He stared at the dark purple bruising on your thumb and the splint before glancing over at Daryl.

“If Daryl hadn’t been there—” you broke off, giving Aaron a somewhat fearful look.

Aaron looked back at the archer again and heaved a heavy sigh. “I won’t hug you,” he said, cracking a smile, “but thank you. Thank you.”

Daryl nodded.

“Okay, I promised Eric I would come right back with an update so, umm—I’m gonna go, but thank God you’re back and you’re at least mostly whole,” he said, backing toward the door again. “Thank you,” he said again, looking at Daryl.

You let out a small laugh as the door shut behind him, shaking your head, smiling fondly.

“You’re close,” Daryl said. “With him and Eric.”

You nodded. “Yeah. When they first brought me in, I used to joke that I was like a stray cat they found and adopted. I felt so out of place, you know? And they just—they didn’t care. They just accepted me right away. Made it feel a little more like a home. They’re good like that. They understand what it’s like to be an outsider.”

Daryl nodded. He knew exactly what you meant.

Denise came in with Pete trailing after her. She looked a bit harried and you apologized for having her come in, to which she just gave you a small smile and a meaningful glance. She was well aware of your feelings toward Pete and she shared them… He stood lurking around in case Denise had questions.

“Okaaaay,” she said, gingerly unwrapping your wrist, wincing at the sight of the swelling and bruising. “Yup. This needs to be set…” she said gently, glancing over at Daryl who was still sitting nearby, his blue eyes taking in everything like he was standing guard. “Okay, Y/N, just lay back.” You obeyed, letting out a wry laugh and a forced exhale at the pain shooting through your ribs. Denise muttered an apology as she palpated your arm with her fingers. “Um. Okay. Daryl, I’m going to need you to hold her arm down while I—”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you teased Denise, a smirk on your face. She pulled a face at you, drawing a laugh which made you clutch at your ribs again and mutter a pitiful “ow.”

“Do you know you’re my least favorite patient?” she retorted jokingly. “Daryl. Come on.” Pete stepped forward, clearly annoyed.

“Are you sure you don’t want an actual--”

You cut him off. “Last I checked, Denise went to fucking med school. And for the last time you aren’t touching me.” Pete muttered something and backed off but he remained nearby watching.

“Ya ready?” Daryl rumbled, his strong hands firmly pressing your arm down against the table.

You nodded and focused on his blue eyes. “Sure…” you said, your voice coming out a little high with nerves and apprehension at the anticipated pain.

Denise didn’t give you a countdown or anything. She just forced the bone back into place. “MOTHERFUCKER!” you yelled, shooting upright on the exam table as soon as Daryl’s hands lifted off your arm. It felt like someone had rammed a red-hot poker into your arm. “Mmmm,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing breaths in and out.

“Done! Done!” Denise said. “See! Not so bad!”

You let out another sardonic laugh. “Easy for you to say.” She immediately fitted you with a stiff brace and instructions to limit use of your wrist and hand for four to six weeks.

“Six weeks,” you repeated. “Are you frickin’ kidding me?” You stared at her, incredulous.

“It’s a broken bone, Y/N, not a bumped elbow,” Denise said as she adjusted the brace.

You looked at the archer beside you for assistance but found none. “Six weeks?” you repeated again. You scoffed. “I’m going to lose my freakin’ mind in here. I can’t—I can’t shoot. I can’t go outside the walls… I can’t even write. It’s my dominant hand.” You let out a frustrated growl. “I might as well be a frickin’ baby,” you growled.

“Kinda are bein’ one right now,” Daryl rumbled. Your eyes snapped over to him and you managed to catch the quick twitch of the corner of his mouth in a rare smirk.

You shot him an unamused look. “I don’t know why you’re so entertained, chuckles. You’re benched too.”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Ya heard her, though. Four to six weeks.” You read genuine concern on his face and sighed.

“Yeah, yeah… I heard her,” you mumbled.

Denise laughed. “Alright. I see your neck… Nothing we can do about that,” she said with a wince. “God. That looks painful.”

You pressed your uninjured hand to it, reflexively covering it up as you felt Daryl’s eyes hitch on the bruises and stay there. “It’s not too bad.”

“Okay, anything else?” Denise asked.

You hesitated for a moment. Daryl didn’t know just how bad your side was and you weren’t real keen on him seeing the extent of the injury from the man kicking you. “Umm… Yeah. Uhh—I think I have some broken ribs maybe and—” you gulped, but you grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it so Denise could see your side.

Daryl immediately stiffened in anger as he saw the extent of the black and purple bruising all up your side. He actually let out what sounded like a low growl before averting his eyes. You noticed his hands clenching and unclenching into fists and he was suddenly restless.

“Oh my God… I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Denise said, her eyes flickering up to yours. She gently palpated your side. “I don’t feel anything concerning beyond the bruising and normal swelling—how did this happen?” she asked you quietly.

You were about to answer when there was suddenly a commotion as Daryl strode over to Pete and pushed him hard in the chest, making him stagger backwards. “Hey!” Daryl roared, posturing toward the surgeon. “What the hell are ya lookin’ at?” You and Denise stared at the two men in confusion and surprise. “We don’ need ya, so why don’ ya just get the hell outta here,” Daryl rumbled, flicking a hand in the direction of the door.

For a moment, Pete looked like he was considering hitting Daryl but he finally just clenched his jaw and left the clinic, slamming the door unnecessarily hard behind him.

Daryl turned to see you and Denise staring at him in confusion. He paced a little uncomfortably. “He was—I didn’t like how he was lookin’ at ya,” Daryl finally spat out.

You felt your cheeks color and averted your eyes from the archer. Apparently when you had lifted your shirt, revealing the bare skin from your waistband to the strap of your bra Pete’s eyes had been a little too hungry, a little too searching, and had lingered a little too long for Daryl’s taste.

You didn’t know what to say. The air in the room was thick and heavy with tension. Denise finally cleared her throat a little awkwardly and broke it. “Okay, I’m serious about the wrist. I’m going to give you some heavy-duty painkillers and anti-inflammatory meds to take for the next five days. If you feel any changes in your side or abdomen you come get me, okay? I’m serious.”

You nodded and Daryl rushed over to help you climb down on the table, hardly noticing the ache in his ankle anymore. You felt another flush in your cheeks as he gently gripped your elbow. “Thanks, Denise.”

She nodded. “Daryl, you’re sure you don’t need me to look at that ankle?”

He shook his head. “Nah. ‘M good. Just gonna get Y/N home so she can rest.”

“You too,” Denise said, pointing vehemently at him.

You walked, or hobbled more like, the distance back to your house with Daryl in silence. It still felt a little heavy, a little uneasy, like the air was holding things unsaid, but finally you climbed the steps and to the front door. You gave him a small smile, but there was something like apprehension in your eyes as you thanked him for all his help. “You know, I’ve known you only a short while and I think you have now officially saved my ass and patched me up more than anyone,” you muttered.

“Yeah, well…” he shrugged. “I think it’s about the same in reverse.” Daryl left with a hollow feeling in his chest as the heavy clunk of the deadbolt secured your door behind you.

Carol was waiting on the front porch and immediately grabbed him into a tight hug. “You scared us,” she said, holding him back to take him in, her eyes searching for injury. “Rosita told us you were back but nothing else. Are you okay?”

“’M Fine. Better than, Y/N,” he said, nudging his head toward your house across the street.

Carol’s brow furrowed. “What happened? Is she alright?”

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed, a noise meaning he didn’t want to talk about it. He dug in his pocket for a cigarette and allowed Carol to gently push his hair out of his face and clasp his shoulder, before he stiffened and moved away to sit on the steps. She knew that meant he wanted to be alone, wanted time to think.

“I’m glad you’re both back and at least mostly in one piece. We’ll be inside if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” the archer murmured. Daryl sat there most of the night, smoking the cigarettes he had left and staring at your dark house, wondering if you were awake like he was.

You were.

The next day, Daryl found Rick in the kitchen in the afternoon. He’d already explained what had transpired outside the walls, why you had both been so delayed. Rick had listened carefully and firmly grasped his shoulder, telling him how relieved he was that Daryl was back safe and that you were too. His words seemed a little pointed, but Daryl shied away from it. But now, after being unable to think of anything else all day, he had a question to ask Rick.

“Hey,” Daryl said, finding Rick in the kitchen, trying to convince Judith to eat something as she squirmed in his arms.

“Hey, Daryl. What is it?” Rick perceived something in the archer’s expression as soon as he glanced up at him.

Daryl scruffed a hand awkwardly through his hair. “Y/N’s interview. With Deanna, when Aaron first brought her in. Did ya watch it?”

Rick nodded, his face falling. “Yeah… I did. I think I watched just about everybody’s.”

Daryl shifted his body weight anxiously from one foot to the other and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to hide the vulnerability he felt while showing such obvious interest in you and your story. “Well… what—what was on it?”

Rick sighed, finally giving up on coaxing Judith to eat, and set her down on the floor on a blanket. He stood and hung his thumbs in his pockets, staring down at his boots for a moment. “You want to watch it?” he asked the archer, glancing up to take in his expression.

Daryl shrugged and let out a non-committal hum.

Rick studied his friend’s expression. “Whatever you’re lookin’ for… Whatever answer… It isn’t on there. But you can watch it if you want,” Rick offered. “Ya saw somethin’ out there that has you worried. I can see that. You can tell me if you want to, but I also understand if you don’t. Y/N is… private… about whatever happened to her before this, before here.”

Daryl swallowed at the tightness in his throat and considered Rick’s words. He chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully, his face dark. “I ain’t worried about us,” he clarified. “I ain’t worried about Alexandria.”

Rick nodded. “Just about her.”

Daryl shrugged and avoided the look in Rick’s eyes, which was something surprised but knowing. “We’ll do our best to keep her safe,” Rick said.

Daryl nodded and this time when he glanced up at his friend there was a fire in his blue eyes, a fierceness. “Ya. We will.”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #daryl dixon series

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

unfair, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader, ft. yoongi

summary: Min Yoongi lived a simple life, alone in his apartment with his dog, Holly. Then he (and his dick) noticed his next-door neighbor. And her boyfriend. But nothing was going to come out of that. They weren’t trying to seduce him... right?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship (jk/you); pining/slow burn; overheard smut; smut (fem reader, threesome, m and f-receiving oral); lil fluff; starts off with Yoongi’s POV, then changes to yours when it gets... fun. ;)

--

Min Yoongi had a problem. A problem most men probably had, but not a problem he was used to. He wasn’t a thirsty kind of guy. For most of his life, he really didn’t care about sexual shit. He had fallen in love, sure, but that was the gradual feeling, the kind that grew slowly but surely, and ultimately burned out when the girls would basically tell him he was boring as fuck. Which he knew he wasn’t. He was just… really garbage at being romantic.

Of course, he was older now, so he had some idea of romance and showing affection, not for his sake but for the sake of loving someone. Even if he was bad at it, the whole point was to try. To be honest, he hadn’t actually put that theory into practice yet, but that was what he had concluded after his last break-up. But now he had a problem.

It was not fucking fair how fucking hot his next-door neighbor was.

It just wasn’t. To whatever higher power was up there, what the actual fuck? Why do this to him, Min Yoongi, of all people? He was a kind boy. A good soul. He didn’t need to step out of his apartment to walk his dog Holly to see his next-door neighbor in a sports bra and leggings wiping her brow with a towel after her morning run. A little sweaty, cheeks flushed, skin glistening. Holy fuck. To top off that banging body, she looked up at him and gave him a confident smile and a polite nod before going into her apartment. Not even embarrassed.

Fuck. Now he had to walk his dog with a hard-on. Great.

To make it even worse, he was pretty sure she was taken. A guy would come around and they would leave together, probably to go on dates. Usually he was in sweats and a bucket hat but this time Yoongi saw him in slacks and a dress shirt.

And, oh, holy hell.

Of course, the guy was fucking handsome as fuck. Nice broad shoulders and muscular arms. Cute face with a mischievous smile and nose scrunch when he laughed. A sweet, tiny mole underneath his lower lip and another on his cheek. Neat black hair swept to one side, begging to have hands running through those strands. Round, brown doe eyes. Thighs could probably crush him and Yoongi would be happy about it. And then she came out of her apartment in her tight black dress and heels, sliding into the guy’s arms so easily and giving him a kiss. The dress showed off her nice round ass and juicy, squeezable thighs.

It was all fucking terrible for Yoongi.

“Ooh, you’re looking pretty for me today, love.”

“Wow, Jungkook, contain yourself for one second so we can at least eat first.”

“I’m ready to eat something, that’s for sure.”

He was not creeping; he was collecting a package outside his door. That was it. He was not the least bit interested in what was going on next to him.

Holly raced out of his apartment, his tiny fluffy brown butt bouncing as he rushed to the people, barking excitedly. Yoongi nearly dropped his package in surprise, shoving it under his arm and rushing over.

“Holly, no! I’m so sorry–”

The guy, Jungkook, laughed as he crouched down, barking back at Holly playfully.

“Aren’t you cute? What’s your name, little one?”

His next-door neighbor smiled at him. Yoongi was ready to crawl into a hole in embarrassment. Not only was he looking frumpy as fuck in a stained white t-shirt and black sweats, but he was also struggling to wrangle Holly with a large box under his arm. To top it off, Jungkook was not making it any easier by chasing Holly around. Yoongi’s black hair was messy and unbrushed, long enough to almost cover his eyes. He was basically a hobo compared to these two.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, he’s a bit–”

“It’s okay.”

He froze up. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

“What’s your dog’s name?”

He swallowed. “H-Holly.” Oh shit. He accidentally looked at her chest. Why did she have such pretty collarbones? She seemed not to notice. Instead she looked over to Jungkook who was wrestling with Holly on the floor and rubbing his belly.

“He’s really cute,” she said with a smile. “You don’t mind if Jungkook plays with him a little, do you?”

“N-no,” Yoongi mumbled, biting his lip. She had plump, shapely lips stained red.

She held her hand out. “I only moved in last month.” He placed her hand in hers. She had a nice, firm handshake. She was telling him her name and he was imagining her hand wrapped around his cock. He needed to get a grip.

“Min Yoongi,” he said robotically. What are social skills? Yoongi didn’t remember any of them at the moment.

“That’s Jeon Jungkook,” she was saying, pointing to the young man on the floor. Holly was licking his hands excitedly. Yoongi noticed a small heart tattooed onto Jungkook’s right hand. Fuck. He had nice hands too. His cock was waking up. Oh fuck.

“Come on, Holly, we have to go now.”

“Aww,” Jungkook whined. Why the fuck was this guy so fucking cute? Please have mercy. Jungkook waved to Holly with a smile. “See you later, Holly!”

Yoongi bowed awkwardly and scurried back into his apartment, Holly bounding in behind him as he shut the door. He barely even squeaked out a goodbye. He didn’t have a chance because – yup, now he had a giant boner.

Holly wagged his tail and barked up at Yoongi, who sighed and shook his head.

-

His brother asked to take Holly for a while. It was fine with Yoongi; his older brother was going camping with his wife and Holly loved being outdoors. Actually, he invited Yoongi, but Yoongi knew he wasn’t an outdoorsy kind of guy and suggested Holly to go instead. Holly loved Yoongi’s brother – maybe even more than Yoongi himself, the traitor. To be honest, if his brother decided to have kids soon, Yoongi had always said it would be a good idea for Holly to grow up with them. Dogs were an essential part of childhood, after all.

That’s why Yoongi was sitting alone in his apartment, reading, with no dog noises around him to distract him. It was nice, quiet, and serene.

Or it would be, if it wasn’t for his next-door neighbor literally fucking up a storm.

Instead, Yoongi was seething at the shared wall next to him as he was very clearly hearing someone getting banged. Which was fine, because people were allowed to do what they wanted. Yoongi didn’t care. Except he did kind of care, because he was absolutely sure it was Jungkook fucking the daylights out of his hot-as-fuck next door neighbor. It was also upsetting because his dick was suddenly awake and saying hello as if he had been called to attention.

But, nope, it was just Yoongi sitting alone glaring at the wall that separated him and giving the two of them a piece of his mind.

Or his meat.

He frowned and made a face. He didn’t have thoughts like that. No, not him, Min Yoongi. He was pure, he definitely did not have any naughty thoughts, nope, not a single o–

A particularly lustful moan of Jungkook’s name cut though his thoughts.

Was he sitting at the chair closest to the wall? Maybe. Well, he was. Could he just move to his kitchen and not hear anything? Yes. Was he going to move?

No.

What number was this anyway? Did Jungkook have the stamina of a horse or something? Not that Yoongi cared, mind you. He certainly did not. It was interesting to think about, that’s all. And then he heard something he thought he would never, ever hear.

“Oh, fuck, Yoooongi!”

Um, what? Did he hear that correctly? Yoongi sat up, raising an eyebrow at the wall. It must have been his imagination, surely, because the sound of skin on skin was not stopping. There was no way she had said the wrong name by accident, right? And Jungkook wouldn’t just let her blurt some other guy’s name out for no reason, right?

He glared at the wall suspiciously, as if it could answer.

Eventually the sounds died down, which was a relief. Hours went by and all Yoongi could think about was her saying his name. There was no way she accidentally said his name while getting fucked by Jungkook. Making that kind of mistake was unforgivable. He ended up ordering take out because to be honest he couldn’t really concentrate on cooking. Yoongi frowned as his doorbell pinged, walking to the door automatically. He must have manifested his thoughts or something like that. He placed his hand on the knob and opened it. It was his imagination, surely–

“Hey, did you order delivery? The person accidentally dropped it off at our door.”

Yoongi almost fell over.

His next-door neighbor blinked at him as he struggled to find his words. She was wearing a big baggy white t-shirt that clung to her body. No pants. The bag was in front of her chest. He could barely see the light pink of her panties.

“Ah, it wasn’t the other door. Is it his?”

Jungkook bounded over, black hair messy, his doe-like eyes wide with curiosity. Grey t-shirt, gray sweatpants. Tattoos going up his right arm. Yoongi nearly had a heart attack seeing his muscular arms.

“Uh, ah–yes, it’s mine, sorry–”

She smiled and held it out to him.

“Here you go.”

His eyes almost bulged out of his head – she wasn’t wearing a bra, holy shit – and he nearly dropped the bag if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s quick reflexes placing his hand at the bottom of the bag.

“Whoa, careful there.”

Thankfully his arm was now blocking her tits so Yoongi snatched the bag and bowed profusely, mumbling apologies.

“Sorry to trouble you.”

“It’s no problem,” she said brightly. “Enjoy your meal.”

She waved and Yoongi finally looked up, seeing her body turned away from him. Oh, whew. Then he looked up to their faces.

And found both of them smirking at him before they went back into her apartment.

-

“They’re fucking with me, Hoseok!”

“Calm down, hyung. I think you’re thinking about it too much.”

That’s what his best friend Jung Hoseok told him over dinner. Yoongi was having none of it.

“How can I be over-thinking it when they’re smirking at me at my front door?”

Hoseok winced. “I don’t know, maybe you imagined it. Why would your next-door neighbor and her boyfriend do something like that?”

“I don’t know, it’s not bad, it’s just–”

“Wait, you like it?”

“… I didn’t–”

Hoseok had burst out laughing like a lunatic.

The laughter rang in Yoongi’s ears as he stood at his front door, silently fuming. He shouldn’t have told Hoseok. But who was he supposed to tell? He wasn’t that close with many of his friends, after all. And Hoseok didn’t end up being mean about it in the end. Yoongi rubbed his forehead, shoving his hair under his black cap. Ah, it was probably just an empty hope after all. He was over-thinking it. Only an absolute loon would think that his next-door neighbor and her boyfriend wanted to have a threesome with him.

“Yoongi?”

He jumped, jerking away from his door suddenly. She stared at him, lip quivering, a worried look on her face. Cropped pink sweatshirt and leggings. Whew, at least she was clothed.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. Is this a bad time?”

“I wasn’t scared,” he said automatically. “Only surprised.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, what was it?”

“Oh, I just…” She rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, fluffing her hair. Fuck. Stop being cute. “I don’t mean to pry, but I haven’t seen you walk Holly lately. I was wondering if he was okay?”

Oh. Right. His dog. “Ah, Holly is with my brother right now. He’s fine. We sort of have shared custody of him since we all grew up together,” Yoongi added with an awkward smile. Ack. Social skills, what even are they?

“Oh, that’s a relief!” She placed a hand on her chest and smiled. “I’m sorry if I was being too nosy.”

He waved a hand. “It’s okay. I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Who wouldn’t notice? You always looked so happy walking him.” He was pretty sure his heart was going to burst if she kept smiling at him like that. “You’re so cute when you smile.”

“Ah…” Hang on, what? His cheeks began to warm.

“You must love dogs.”

Right. His dog. He chuckled. “I don’t usually, but somehow Holly made his way into my heart.”

She looked rueful. “I’m jealous of him.”

What?

“It must be difficult to win your heart.”

Was she… flirting with him?

She smiled innocently at him but those eyes were giving him a different story. The mischievous sparkle made his response die in his throat. He stared at her for a good minute.

“What… about Jungkook?”

“What about me?”

Yoongi felt his entire body freeze. He was caught. Shit, shit, shit.

Jungkook brushed past him ever-so-slightly, hand lingering on Yoongi’s jacket-covered arm before he hugged her tightly, kissing her forehead. She smiled up at him. Jungkook grinned at her and turned back to Yoongi with a bright bunny-like smile.

“Hey.”

Yoongi looked away quickly, realizing he was observing much too closely. “Er, hello.”

“Hey, Yoongi.”

He swallowed and looked up, raising his eyebrows. “Yes?”

Her lips curved into a sly smile.

“If you’re ever feeling up to it, we would love you to come over sometime.”

Jungkook grinned. “Any time!”

Oh, fuck. Jungkook’s hands were on her waist, sliding down slowly. Tongue in his teeth as she leaned against his chest with that foxy smile. Yoongi opened his mouth, but the only sound he made was an awkward croak. He coughed and looked away.

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

Yoongi hastily fumbled with the door lock and ran into his apartment, praying that neither of them could see his blushing face and his massive hard-on.

-

“They said you could come over any time. You are not crazy. You are just being nice.”

Yoongi stood in front of his next door-neighbor’s door like a zombie, clutching one bottle of red wine and a bottle of whiskey for dear life. He had contemplated his outfit three times before deciding that a long-sleeved white shirt, black jeans, and ripped gray denim jacket was not trying too hard. But just to be sure, he wore his nicer black boxer briefs and not the ones with holes in them.

Just…

In case.

“They don’t want to fuck you. They’re being nice.”

The door suddenly opened.

Yoongi’s eyes went wide. He sputtered. “A-ah!”

Oh my god.

Was it even possible for a woman to be this pretty? Decked in a floaty, red dress with a delicate bow around her neck and fluffy white slippers, his next-door neighbor seemed surprised to see him. The fabric floated down and clung to her curves, dipping inward in between her legs. Her eyebrows raised in surprise and her plump lips curved into a small ‘o’.

“Yoongi! I wasn’t expecting you for another ten minutes! Jungkook told me he just arrived.”

“I’m here, darling.”

Jungkook’s deep voice purred behind Yoongi. The older man nearly jumped and turned to see Jungkook right behind him – how long had he been there? Black t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black sneakers.  Jungkook’s lips curved into a mischievous smile and he leaned over Yoongi, his chest brushing against Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi felt his heartbeat skyrocket at the sudden closeness until he realized Jungkook was kissing his girlfriend on the forehead, patting her head gently.

“Fancy for a just watching a movie,” Jungkook teased. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I just bought this dress! I can wear whatever I want.”

“Yes, you can, and you look cute in it too.”

Yoongi would have been paying attention except he suddenly felt Jungkook’s hand against his back, sliding slightly downwards. He froze, breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t that he was starved for intimacy or anything. Okay, maybe he was a little bit, but, shit, what was he supposed to do with two very obviously hot as fuck people were seducing him? Ignore it?

No, he most certainly was not.

Yoongi stumbled, nerves rattling him. He felt strong arms hold him straight.

“Oh, sorry, did you trip?” Jungkook asked, worry laced in his voice.

“Ack, where are my manners? Come in, come in.”

He felt Jungkook push him lightly. Yoongi swallowed and stepped inside the apartment, still clutching the two bottles of alcohol for dear life. He was afraid that if he let go, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from… uh. Things. Breathe deep, Min Yoongi. You are not fifteen.

“These… are for you.”

He held out the two bottles to her. She tilted her head as she read the labels, taking them from him. It took all of Yoongi’s power not to grab her tits.

“Oh, thank you! Look, Jungkook, he bought red wine, your favorite!”

Jungkook bounded past him excitedly and took the bottle from her. “Ah, yesss! All for me!”

Yoongi blinked. “You don’t drink?”

She tapped the whiskey bottle. “I do. Just not wine.”

-

Watching a movie? Yeah, right.

How was Yoongi supposed to watch anything at all? One look at Jungkook in his loose black t-shirt and, fuck,  he was reminded the guy’s entire right arm was tattooed. Holy shit. And her? Wrapped so nicely in floaty red fabric with that bow around her neck. It meant the dress had a deep neckline and he could see the curve of her cleavage, the plushness of her breasts.

Fuck this movie. Yoongi literally had no idea what was on the screen at this point.

She leaned against Jungkook as he sipped his wine. Every so often, she poured herself a shot of whiskey and drank it. Like… what? Granted, it wasn’t very much, but he had never seen a woman just… do that. She would smile and settle back onto the couch, into the curve of Jungkook’s arm. His tattooed arm. Jungkook would then drape it around her again, fingertips almost touching her breast. All this, happening within ten inches of Yoongi, who was sitting on her right side.

He didn’t know what number he was on now. Yoongi wasn’t a lightweight but he couldn’t calm his nerves either. Nerves or growing lust?

Both.

Yoongi looked away and stared at the screen. He didn’t know what he was looking at. All he could think about was faceplanting into those tits and Jungkook’s hands all over him. Or her sitting on his face as Jungkook sucked him off. Or, her sitting on Jungkook’s face and him sucking Jungkook off–

“Yoongi.”

He nearly flung his glass in surprise but she reached over and took it from him. Her breasts brushed against his arm and Yoongi stiffened, trying to keep his face neutral.

“I think you need to slow down. Are you okay?” she said worriedly, placing the whiskey glass on the coffee table.

“No.” He shook his head quickly and cleared his throat. “I mean, yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

Jungkook and her stared at him.

Yoongi raised a hand and took a deep breath. “Er… I am getting this feeling,” he said awkwardly.

She tilted her head. “Hm?”

“It’s nothing.”

Jungkook shook his head. “No, no. If you’re not comfortable, then we understand. You should go home if you’re not feeling well.”

No, that’s not really what I want. I want to fuck, damnnit!

“Ah…” Yoongi swallowed at the sudden attention placed on him. “It’s not that.” He was a straightforward person. He didn’t know how to make it sound metaphorical or pretty. “You two have a very strong… presence.”

She frowned slightly. “Is that bad for you?”

“N-no. It’s, er… attractive.”

Oh shit. He said it.

“Ah, I meant–” Yoongi coughed, looking away quickly. “The other day… I thought I heard my name… But it must have been a mistake, right?” He laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t say such–”

A softness pressed against him. Yoongi wasn’t wearing his jacket, only his long-sleeved white shirt. He froze. The softness slid up his arm. He could feel the weight of her body against him. His brain was turning into mush. Oh god, oh god, oh god…

“You heard me?” The words purred against his neck, hot and heavy.

He couldn’t turn around. He couldn’t. Yoongi tried to collect his words, fumbling through them.

“N-not on purpose…”

“You want me to say your name again? So you can hear it in person?”

The weight lifted. Slowly, Yoongi turned his head. His eyes trailed up her legs, to the floaty red fabric, to her waist, then up her chest to her face. She smiled slyly at him. Strong hands, one tattooed, one not, slid up her sides, grasping the bottom ties that held the bow together. Jungkook’s mischievous face popped up from behind her head. Yoongi just stared at them, eyes wide, mouth slightly open like a surprised kitten.

The bow teased apart, slowly. Jungkook’s hands slid inside the fabric, pushing it away. Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat. Jungkook cupped her breasts gently, rubbing his palms over them. She was wearing heart shaped pasties to cover her nipples. Yoongi was aware that he could run right now. He could have just stood up and walked out and that weirdness would have been over. Except, well…

His hand lifted. Yoongi hesitated for a moment, looking into her eyes.

She smirked and wrapped her fingers around his. His heart thumped loudly in his ribcage as she led him to her chest.

“You can take it off, if you want,” she said gently.

Yoongi swallowed as his fingertips touched her breast. Oh, so soft. He hooked a nail underneath the sticky material and pulled lightly. Nothing. She chuckled and shook her head.

“Little harder, Yoongi.”

His name was a soft purr. Yoongi bit his lower lip and yanked a little harder. It came off in his hand. He blinked rapidly in surprise, hoping he didn’t hurt her. His second thought was…

Holy shit, her nipple.

It was prominent, sticking straight out at him. It would have been visible through the fabric of the dress due to its size. Thinking about that was arousing him. Yoongi felt as if his whole face was heating up. He vaguely registered Jungkook peeling off the second one and dropping it on the coffee table. Now there were two – great math there, Yoongi, he scolded himself – and he sat like a statue, unable to comprehend that this was real.

Jungkook pushed her breasts together, trapping her nipples between his index and middle finger. He rolled them slowly. Yoongi watched in fascination as her eyes slid closed and her head tipped back, a breathy moan dripping from her lips. Jungkook squeezed and kneaded her breasts, nose buried in her neck as he inhaled deeply, murmuring her name. Her eyelids fluttered.

“A-ah… Yoongi…”

There was no wall blocking his view now. It was real.

Yoongi sat up a little straighter, leaning forward. He was still too afraid to touch.

“Y-yes?”

Her hand came up and stroked his cheek softly. He leaned into her touch, hungry. Her thumb pressed against his lips.

“Wanna kiss you.”

He cursed his bad habit of chewing on his lips, but leaned forward delicately. His eyes flickered to Jungkook, who was watching him with amusement. He wanted to ask. Are you sure? Jungkook seemed to understand and he nodded, smile turning gentler at Yoongi’s nervousness.

His eyes found hers again. Her lips parted. She led him to her face, closing her eyes slowly as her lips touched his. So soft, so gentle. It wasn’t the kiss he expected from his daydreams. It was warm and calm, soothing his nerves. His hands came up to cup her cheeks as the kiss deepened, tongue dancing against tongue. Everything just felt so soft. So lovely.

He felt Jungkook take his hands and slide them down. Yoongi gasped into her mouth as his palms touched her nipples. She moaned at his touch, nipping at his lower lip as he squeezed them, rolling her nipples with his thumb. They were just the right measure of hardness and softness. Her hands found his jeans and she pulled him closer by the waist, his body against hers.

“Yoongi-ssi…”

It wasn’t her voice. It was Jungkook’s, leaning forward and pushing up his shirt, running his hands over his skin. Yoongi gasped, suddenly feeling embarrassed. It was so obvious that Jungkook was more muscular and stronger than he was. But she held him close, kissing his jaw and neck. Jungkook’s face came into view, small smile dancing on his lips.

“I can call you that, right? Even though you’re my hyung?”

At this point, Yoongi didn’t even remember what honorifics were. “Whatever you want,” he muttered breathlessly. Jungkook chuckled and leaned forward, placing his lips on his. Oh, yes. More passionate, intense. Yoongi felt himself moan into Jungkook’s mouth and the younger man sucked on his tongue, hands along his back, pressing him into her.

It took a moment to untangle slightly. Breathing hard, Yoongi found himself looking into two pairs of lustful eyes.

“What do you want to do, Yoongi?”

-

Seducing Min Yoongi hadn’t been easy. There had been moments where you wondered if you had gone too far, or if Jungkook had teased him a little too much. It had been a long, carefully laid out plan. In fact, Jungkook almost gave up in the middle at one point and tried to convince you that he should hump him to get the message across. It had been a little difficult. But it was all worth it.

Because now you two managed to get Yoongi in the bedroom, flat on his back, your pussy in his face and Jungkook’s mouth on his cock. And oh, fuck, his fucking tongue. It had taken some more fondling and kisses to make Yoongi say it.

“Could I… eat you out while Jungkook sucks me off? Is that too much or–”

You grinded your hips into Yoongi’s face, sucking in a breath as Jungkook’s head bobbed up and down on Yoongi’s cock. Jungkook naked was already enough to make you wet. His muscular back, that ass, his tattooed arm, and his forearms flexing as he held Yoongi’s hips down. Could he suck dick as well as you? No, but he had a pretty good idea considering you were excellent at it. Watching Yoongi’s cock slide in and out of his mouth was a delicious sight. Yoongi’s tongue lapping at your clit had you dripping into his mouth. Somehow, he had just the right amount of pressure and roughness as he stroked you to climax, nails digging into your thighs.

You moaned in satisfaction, panting Yoongi’s name. Jungkook’s brown eyes flickered up to you and he made a muffled noise as he witnessed you playing with your nipples, squeezing and pulling on them lightly. You saw his hips jerk, humping the bed. You grinned. Teasing Jungkook was fun.

Yoongi tapped your leg and you got up, concerned. But he was clutching the sheets, gasping, head thrown back as he groaned, shoving his crotch into Jungkook’s face. Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gripped Yoongi’s hips, swallowing nosily as Yoongi’s entire body shuddered.

“F-fuck!”

You smiled as Jungkook sucked him dry, slowly rubbing his tongue around Yoongi’s cock as he cleaned him up. Yoongi did not seem like he was expecting this at all and moaned loudly, probably a little too loud. Jungkook dipping his head slowly, down, down, until the sensitive head hit the back of his throat. Yoongi’s face scrunched up, slipping into a moan as Jungkook slowly pulled back, Yoongi’s cock popping out of his lips.

Jungkook grinned. “Did I do good?”

You smiled. “Of course, my love.”

Yoongi squinted at him. “How the fuck did you learn how to do that?”

Jungkook pointed to you. “From the best.”

You smiled and Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“Can I try something?” Jungkook asked, tugging on your arm.

You nodded. “What is it?”

Jungkook pulled you to him and kissed you, smiling against your lips. He readjusted you to be on top of Yoongi, your back to his chest. Yoongi made a disgruntled noise, but you rubbed your ass against his still sensitive cock, making him gasp. His hands wrapped around you. Yoongi had pretty hands, the kind of hands that made you pause the first time you saw him, the kind of hands you dreamed about touching you, the kind of hands that made your body melt. You were a bit disappointed that you couldn’t see Yoongi’s handsome face in his position but Jungkook was lifting your legs now, setting them on his shoulders. The condom was already on.

Jungkook smirked.

Was this man really going to expose your favorite position right now?

“Jung–fuuuuuck!”

His cock slid into you, slow and deep and hard. You yelped, feeling Yoongi grab your breasts and knead them. You liked this position for several reasons – one, Jungkook had you basically trapped under his body, and, two, Jungkook had power and gravity on his side. Thus, he could fuck you hard and deep at the same time, absolutely ruining you. And watch your face while he was doing it.

“Jungkook, ah, so deep,” you moaned, leaning against Yoongi’s chest as he pinched your nipples. Your pussy clenched, squeezing Jungkook’s cock inside you.

“That’s how you like it,” he drawled, rolling his hips into you, making his cock throb. You whimpered, looking deep into Jungkook’s eyes. Yoongi pinched your nipples and you whined as Jungkook thrust into your leisurely, burying himself in your folds.

“Whose idea was it to scream Yoongi’s name while we were fucking, hm?” Jungkook teased, fucking with such force that your ass bounced against Yoongi’s dick each time. You could feel him getting hard as your ass rubbed against it.

“M-mine,” you reply, earning you a slightly harder pace.

“So naughty,” Jungkook purred, licking his lips. “You wanted Yoongi so bad, didn’t you, love?”

You could only moan as Jungkook began to fuck you harder. Yoongi’s cock was smearing pre-cum all over you. You tried to desperately rub your ass against his cock, feeling it throb underneath you. It wetly slapped your ass every time Jungkook bounced you up and down.

“Fuck,” Yoongi grunted, kissing your neck. “Fuck, you two are seriously not fair.”

“Yoongi, ah, Jungkook…”

Yoongi rolled your nipples against his fingers and pinched them. You cried out, pussy clenching as your orgasm hit you, so overflowed with stimulation that you could barely think. Jungkook gritted his teeth, maintaining his pace as they worked you up again, Yoongi’s fingers rolling your nipples and Jungkook fucking you deep. It was an absolute mess of your own cum dripping down and Yoongi’s pre-cum mixing with it. The head of Yoongi’s hard cock was rubbing against your ass. You could watch Jungkook thrusting in and out of you, shiny and glistening.

“Ah, fuuuuck!”

You moaned as you came again, thick juices gushing down and coating Yoongi’s cock. Jungkook shuddered at your pussy tightening around him. You felt Yoongi’s hips shudder as he sucked in a breath sharply, groaning at the sensitivity as he came on your ass and up your thigh, splattering onto Jungkook’s legs.

Jungkook grinned triumphantly before fucking you even harder. It didn’t take long before he hissed, cock jerking inside you as he came, your name dragged out in a long moan. His jaw clenched, hips thrusting a little to get the last drops out of his softening cock.

After a moment, he pulled out, leaving you panting and sore in Yoongi’s arms. He got up to clean himself off, looking for a towel. Yoongi buried his face in your neck. You could feel his warm cheeks.

“Sorry about the bed,” he mumbled.

You reached back and petted his hair, breathing his name. You rubbed your ass against him and Yoongi stiffened. It made you grin.

“Stay the night, Yoongi.”

He nuzzled your hair even though he grumbled a bit.

“F-fine.”

-

part ii

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #min yoongi x you #jeon jungkook x you #min yoongi smut #jeon jungkook smut

[kpop-stan23-writes]

old money seonghwa

another case of me reading this post by @warmau and being inspired! btw, if you enjoy brilliantly clever bullet aus you should definitely give skye a follow.

read san's part here and mingi’s part here

group: ateez member: seonghwa genre: fluff? rich boy au word count: 1.5k warnings: a few curse words. the note is a little suggestive pairing: seonghwa x gn!reader

note: the seonghwa i portray here definitely isn't the type of seonghwa who would hover over you while dressed in a three piece suit and you're wearing nothing but one of his vintage watches but i figure hey, maybe he can grow into that seonghwa

heir to a trust fund that has been getting richer by the decade

only knows other trust fund babies

appears cold and standoffish to the general public but that's really only because he doesn't know how to interact with people not in the top 1%

(secretly very awkward)

only wears high end luxury brands and old, vintage watches that have been in his family for generations

gets driven around in a limo with windows tinted black

perfect gentleman

has never once in his life forgotten his manners because they were practically beaten into him since he could walk

everybody in the upper class loves him because they think he's perfect: perfect manners, perfect looks, perfect bank account

and that's okay

it's the only life he's known, after all

until he meets you

it's your friend's birthday, and their rich other half has given you some money to pick out something

you're frugal, having grown up modestly, and knowing your friend's taste, found something they'll adore for a fraction of the money their s/o gave you

you're standing in front of a jewelry store when your friend surprises you and all but drags you into the store

you roll your eyes but follow, listening to them say that you should go ahead and spend the spare change *wink wink*

seonghwa is already inside, searching for a suitable gift for his mother's own birthday

he looks up when he hears a salesperson greet the newcomers

and immediately tells the saleswoman helping him to bag everything you look at

her eyes widen at the request but nods and hurries away to inform the others

you're none the wiser, eyeing the lovely jewelry and ignoring your friend as they try to convince you that their s/o wouldn't mind if you spent the money on yourself, since you've already gotten the birthday gift *wink wink*

your friend does find a little something as a birthday gift to themselves and you follow them to the cashier

three large bags are placed on the counter and you and your friend share a look

"i only purchased this," your friend says

"oh no these are yours," the cashier says, looking directly at you

"but i didn't--i can't--"

"oh they're on seonghwa's tab. he's just over there"

your head whips around just in time to see the retreating back of a tall figure

you look back at the three large bags filled to the brim each with neatly wrapped boxes

"how much..."

your friend nearly chokes when the cashier hands over the bill

you don't dare look yourself, just stare at the empty entry where this seonghwa disppeared

your friend fills you in about the park seonghwa as you walk to your car, arms heavy with the unexpected gifts

with every fact your friend tells you, you feel yourself grow more and more confused

this man has everything he could ever want, and you assume that includes his fill of attractive suitors of the same class

so who are you? just a random stranger who happened to stop by a high-end jewelry store way out of your price range

when your friend's s/o hears about what happened, they're just as shocked as you

because park seonghwa spending oodles on a perfect stranger? what has the world come to

you try going back to the jewelry store to return the jewels, but they tell you they can't process a refund without the original card

so you convince your friend's s/o to give you the address to seonghwa's penthouse apartment, because now you get a chance to demand an explanation as well

stepping out of the cab with your arms full of bags with the expensive name splashed across in big bold letters makes you feel sorely out of place

because wow what a building

the lobby, while small, has tall ceilings, and the marble floors make every step you take echo

the woman behind the counter is in a simple black dress that still looks like it costs more than several months of your salary put together and you fidget nervously in your ripped jeans and scuffed shoes

the woman looks down her nose at you even though you're standing over her and for a moment you're at a loss as to what to say

the longer you stand there, though, the more foolish you feel, and you hate feeling foolish, so quickly you're just mad you're in this situation to begin with

you drop the heavy bags on the smooth wood counter and say "let seonghwa know i'm here to return the jewelry"

"and what's your name?"

"he'll know who it is"

she looks like she's ready to argue, but you just turn your back to her, leaning against the counter and tapping your foot obnoxiously loudly in a way that makes it obvious you won't leave until she's given seonghwa your message

she huffs but picks up the phone

she relays your message in a tone that clearly says she doesn't believe a word you say and you have to fight a smirk when you notice her eyes widen in surprise at seonghwa's response

she clears her throat and passes you a key board and tells you to use it to get to the penthouse floor

you take the card and gather your bags and march toward the elevators

frustration is still coursing through your veins when the elevator doors open directly into seonghwa's living room, so you don't notice that wow the pictures you've found online of park seonghwa don't do him justice

instead you march fearlessly up to him, drop the bags on the large leather sofa, and cross your arms over your chest

"what exactly are these for?"

you are prepared for all sorts of reactions, ranging from disbelief to anger

what you weren't expecting was the ever-cool, every-confident park seonghwa to burn holes in his slippers, rub the back of his neck uncertainly, and say questioningly, "they're for you?"

you're so shocked at his response that you're rendered dumb

this is not the park seonghwa you were expecting

he's looking at you now, his dark eyes wide (you know the look he gets, the galaxy-filled boba-eyed look) and look as innocent as a calf

any anger you had at being put in this ridiculous situation leaves you immediately and now you're feeling as awkward and uncertain as he appears to be

you clear your throat and gesture to the bags and explain that no one could possibly wear that many jewels in one lifetime

he seems confused and you suddenly wonder if he's ever seen the women in his life wear a piece of jewelry more than once

"look it's a really sweet and kind gesture," you say quickly, "but it's simply too much. can you please return these?"

seonghwa just nods and you're left standing in front of each other awkwardly

you finally bow and scurry away, but are then left hanging out to dry because where the hell is that elevator and why didn't it just stay on the top floor when you got out??

your friend and their s/o pesters you about how it went but you just wave them off because you're guessing you've seen a side of park seonghwa no one has ever seen before and it feels strangely intimate and you feel strangely protective

you keep an eye out for him in the news, now, though, and can't get over how put-together and suave he looks on camera

it makes you almost wish you could get to know the seonghwa you saw

but you're from completely different worlds, shop at completely different stores, and after all he only spotted you out of chance

what you aren't expecting is to see him at your friend's birthday party just two weeks later

because their s/o is hosting the event, it's black tie required, and with your friend's help you clean up well

you're also there before the other guests, helping the s/o as a second host

so as you're making the rounds of the guests, you stop in your tracks when you spot park seonghwa

damn he looks really good in a suit

and for a moment you see the cool, distant park seonghwa in the flesh

but as soon as your eyes meet, his gaze warms and is that a hint of a blush on his cheeks?

you straighten your shoulders because dammit you will be a good second host and greet all the guests like you're supposed to

you finally make your way to seonghwa and thank him for attending your friend's birthday party

"i never caught your name," he says before you can run away

you stop in your tracks and just stare at him now because he really bought those things without even knowing your name? seeing him at your friend's party you thought maybe he recognized you through their s/o but he really couldn’t have picked you out of a lineup?

he shifts under your unblinking gaze and you quickly clear your throat and introduce yourself properly

he smiles a little and you swear you hear him say "pretty. it suits you" under his breath

but you heard wrong, right?

you finally manage to flee when you hear your name called and you quickly bow before scurrying away

seonghwa is left in a daze the rest of the evening, your pretty name going around and around in his head

the end?

#ateez #seonghwa #ateez scenarios #seonghwa scenarios #ateez fluff #seonghwa fluff #maybe? idk what fluff is #rich boy au #rich boy!seonghwa #the money series

[ariadnekurosaki]

HitsuKarin 💚🖤 either SFW or NSFW whichever you prefer. Karin seeing Adult Tōshirō for the 1st time? XD or something similar...

We're going SFW for this one, because once my brain finally started percolating on this it went straight to Deathberry Family and the events of "Bittersweet". This story takes place during the same timeframe.

Old Friends

Rating: G

Pairings: HitsuKarin; IchiRuki

Read below or on AO3.

“Don’t say it,” Karin warned with a low growl.

“I think Captain Hitsugaya’s taller than you are!” Rukia exclaimed with an unrepentant grin. “He’s gotten handsome, too, hasn’t he?”

“I told you not to say it!” Karin whispered harshly.

But Karin’s sister-in-law just laughed, even though she was propped up on a heavily-padded chaise in the courtyard and heavy with her second – and much more difficult – pregnancy. A stack of manga from Karin’s shopping in Karakura was piled up on the end table beside the chaise, an entire series worth of tankobon that Karin thought Rukia might like.

After all, it wasn’t like Soul Society had television (a serious drawback, in Karin’s opinion), and Rukia was on bed rest. When Ichigo had gotten a message to her asking if she’d help Rukia out and keep her company for a few weeks, she’d put in for vacation time at her job and gotten not just permission to come through a senkaimon but a personal escort.

From a man she hadn’t seen in years and almost didn’t recognize.

Ignoring Rukia’s snickering, Karin sprawled out over the padded bench in the little grove of weeping pines. She grabbed for one of the tankobon and glanced up at Rukia. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? Ichi-nii told me you’re not allowed to do anything strenuous. And Yuzu made a tonof food, so that includes cooking!”

“Your brother is exaggerating just a little,” Rukia muttered, but she took a sip from the glass of water that Karin had retrieved for her. “I’m still allowed to get up and walk around in my own home. I did miss Yuzu’s cooking, though,” she said wistfully.

Karin knew that she missed Yuzu, too, but her sister had three kids to take care of, and her husband had freaked out so badly the one time they’d told him about his in-laws that Rukia had needed to modify the guy’s memory.

“Hn. Still.” Karin opened the manga volume in her hands to the first page, but really it was an excuse to think about what had happened the day before, hopefully without her sister-in-law noticing.

“Ah! Kurosaki-san,” Urahara greeted enthusiastically, ever-present fan fluttering to create a breeze in the spring warmth. “I’m told your escort will be here momentarily.”

Karin adjusted the enormous backpack she wore. She’d filled it with lots of tankobon to give to Rukia, who – according to Ichigo’s message – was bored out of her mind during her medical leave. Her sister-in-law still loved to read some of the trashier manga on the market.

In one hand she carried a second bag, this one full of Yuzu’s home-cooked food. “Am I going to be able to take all this stuff to Soul Society?” she asked skeptically. “Ichigo said you’re able to convert stuff. If I don’t give all this food to Rukia, Yuzu’s going to be really mad.”

Urahara chuckled behind his fan. “Of course, Kurosaki-san, of course. I’m sure Rukia-chan is looking forward to it.”

The senkaimon structure before them glowed suddenly and a tall figure in the black shinigami uniform and a white haori – a captain’s uniform, Karin knew – stepped forward. Her ability to sense reiatsu and reiryoku was still limited even decades later, but Karin recognized it just the same. His figure was much taller and his face more chiseled, his hair neater.

His eyes, though. She knew that cerulean color, even though she hadn’t seen it since Ichigo and Rukia’s wedding reception almost twenty years earlier. And hadn’t that been awkward? “Toshiro?” she asked quietly.

“Karin.” His voice was just a hair deeper than it had been years ago. But she shouldn’t have been surprised: he had to be almost fifty centimeters taller than he’d been when she was a kid. She was much shorter than him, her head just reaching the top of his shoulder. His eyes raked over her. “You’re… different.”

“So are you,” she shot back. “It’s been almost twenty years, you know.” Still, she felt self-conscious in the plain jeans and old football jersey she wore, a relic of time spent playing on a team in the Nadeshiko League. She’d been retired from playing professionally for a few years, but the dark green jersey was comfortable. Still, Karin knew what he saw: a woman grown, no longer the gangly teenager she’d been. A few strands of white stood out against her black hair, now that she was in her thirties. And she had a figure even more voluptuous than it had been when they’d hung out at her brother’s wedding and he’d acted like a weirdo because she’d gotten taller than him in the four years since they’d last seen one another.

Well, she guessed height wasn’t a problem anymore.

She was conscious, suddenly, of the way Urahara watched them, expression hidden by his stupid bucket hat and fan. The black cat beside him looked way too interested, too.

“Hn. I guess it has been. Time… moves a little differently in Soul Society,” Toshiro admitted quietly.

“Guess so,” she agreed. “Anyway, I need to get all this stuff to Rukia-nee. My brother’s beside himself about her.” Then she eyed him with a touch of suspicion. “Enough to send a captain to get me, but not enough to come get me himself.”

Toshiro folded his arms across his chest; his shoulders were broader; she could tell even though he was wearing those bulky shinigami robes. “Ichigo is running their division without Rukia or their third seat right now and he’s swamped. He asked me to escort you as a favor, so they wouldn’t have to worry.”

“Is there a reason to worry?” Karin asked, absently allowing Urahara to take her backpack and bag of food so that he could pass it through his converter. Something about the set of Toshiro’s lips, the way his shoulders tensed, told her it was more than just Ichigo being busy that had him sending a captain instead of a subordinate.

Toshiro’s lips thinned into a grimace. “Maybe. Are those done, Urahara?” he asked.

“All set, Hitsugaya-san,” Urahara said cheerfully. Karin reached for the pack he held out and shrugged it over her shoulders, but Toshiro grabbed for the tote bag full of food before she could. “Kurosaki-san, please let your brother and Kuchiki-san know that if there is anything I can do to help, I will.”

“Thanks,” she muttered. Karin wasn’t sure what the shopkeeper could do about Rukia’s pre-eclampsia – she didn’t even know until Ichigo got his message to her that shinigami could get pre-eclampsia – but she guessed that Rukia and Ichigo might appreciate the sentiment.

“Good,” Toshiro said gruffly, and with a thought summoned a pair of dark butterflies. At Karin’s inquiring look he explained, “Hell butterflies. They guide us between the worlds, so we don’t get lost.”

“Oh.” Ichigo and Rukia – and Sumiye, when they brought her – always walked a good distance away from the house since Yuzu’s husband wasn’t in the know. Karin had the presence of mind to bow shallowly to Urahara. “Thanks,” she said quietly, and followed Toshiro – and the butterfly – through the senkaimon. Her body seemed lighter as she stepped through; she hadn’t felt anything like that in years.

After all, Ichigo and Rukia almost always came to Karakura, rather than asking the Kurosaki family to make the trip through a senkaimon.

This trip was shorter than she’d remembered; it seemed like it only took a moment before they were stepping through an enormous pair of white doors. “Welcome back to Soul Society,” Toshiro said in that low voice of his. “I’ll escort you to Kurosaki’s home. It’s…”

“Near the Kuchiki Manor, I know,” Karin finished. “I visited when Sumiye was born.”

The Tenth Division Captain shot a look in her direction. “I didn’t know you’d been back since the wedding,” he said after a long moment of silence. They walked through the archway that led down into the Seireitei proper, and Karin followed him through the winding streets that led towards the manor, and the home Ichigo and Rukia shared.

“Just a couple times,” Karin admitted. She glanced in his direction. “I thought you said time moves differently in Soul Society. Ichigo and Rukia look like they’ve barely aged a day in twenty years except that Ichigo grew his hair out, but you look…older.” She caught onto the way he stiffened beside her, and added, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s related to my bankai,” Toshiro admitted after a long moment of silence that settled awkwardly between them. But he glanced at her furtively when he said it, as though there was more to it than that.

They reached the pretty home that Rukia and Ichigo had called theirs for close to twenty years, and Karin trotted up the steps to the front door eagerly. Toshiro followed, carrying the heavy tote of food along with him.

A servant bearing the Kuchiki crest answered the door, bowing low and ushering them into the house. “Welcome, Kurosaki-san, Captain Hitsugaya. Captain Kuchiki is in the courtyard,” she explained softly. “Is there anything I can take for you?”

“Yeah, that bag.” Karin gestured at the bag Toshiro still held. “It has meals in it for Rukia. Can you put everything away so it doesn’t spoil?”

“Of course, Kurosaki-san,” she murmured, and took the bag from the captain. “Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything. I will be here until early evening.”

She directed them to the engawa and then into the courtyard, where Rukia waited on a comfortable-looking lounge chair, an all too knowing smirk on her lips. “Karin,” she greeted, “Toshiro.”

“Rukia,” Toshiro acknowledged his fellow captain in return, while Karin hurried forward and leaned down to wrap her arms around her sister-in-law. She was so petite that her body was already heavy with her pregnancy, lower stomach rounded and cheeks fuller.

“Thanks for coming to keep me company,” Rukia murmured, arms wrapped tight around Karin’s back and shoulders. “You have no idea how boringit is to be stuck here with nothing to do. Your brother barely even lets me look over paperwork!” Then she looked up at them both. “Please, sit – Miura-san will bring us something to drink.”

“You’re not supposed to be reviewing paperwork on medical leave,” Toshiro reminded her as he lowered himself onto a bench shaded by weeping pines. Karin took the other half of the padded seat, and glared daggers when Rukia shot her another significant look.

Ignoring the look entirely, Rukia smiled easily at them both, one hand rubbing light circles over her swollen stomach. “Ichigo should be home soon. He promised to leave the division early today so that we can have dinner together.”

“Is he really having that much trouble keeping up?” Toshiro asked.

“Ordinarily it wouldn’t be a problem. But Sentaro’s still recuperating in the Fourth Division,” Rukia explained. “And our Sixth Seat just went on medical leave too. So, we’re stretched thinner than usual.” She glanced between them and added quietly, “And there’s that… experiment of Kurotsuchi’s, as well.”

Toshiro’s scowl was so fierce that Karin had to stop herself from edging away from him. “I still don’t understand why the Captain-Commander has allowed it,” he grumbled, smoothing his expression when Miura stepped into the courtyard with a tray of drinks. She set a glass of juice down at Rukia’s elbow and offered two others to Karin and Toshiro.

“Please have a glass ready for my husband when he returns,” Rukia requested politely. Miura left with a little bow at Rukia’s nod of dismissal.

Karin sipped cautiously, then more enthusiastically: it was strawberry-kiwi, one of her favorites – and one of Ichigo’s favorites as well. “Isn’t Kurotsuchi the weird one who wears all the face makeup?” she asked after a while.

“Hn. That’s one way to describe him,” Toshiro agreed.

“Genocidal crackpot is another. Hey, Toshiro.”

Karin looked up to see her brother, still in his uniform and with his lieutenant’s badge wrapped around his bicep, standing in the grove. She hadn’t even seen him enter the courtyard. “Ichi-nii!” she called, and hurriedly put her glass down before rising to wrap her arms around him. He smelled of sweat and dust, and ink.

Ichigo gave his little sister a squeeze and ruffled her hair, ignoring the moue of irritation she gave him. “Hey, Karin. Thanks for coming to stay with us a while,” he said. When he let go of her it was to lean down and brush his lips against Rukia’s, chaste and gentle. “Holding up?” he asked in a low murmur, one hand resting feather-light on her stomach.

“I’m fine and you’re still worrying too much,” Rukia retorted, but her fingers threaded into his hair to keep him close for another kiss.

Karin glanced away, suddenly feeling like she was intruding on something private, and looked toward Toshiro instead. There was a faint but telltale pink hue to his cheeks, and when he caught her looking at him, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“They’ve been like that the whole pregnancy,” Toshiro muttered when she sat back down beside him. “But your brother’s only gotten worse since Rukia had to go on leave a few weeks ago.”

“Heh. You’ll be just as bad if you ever get married.” Ichigo sprawled on the bench closest to Rukia, fingers threading through hers. He glanced between Karin and Toshiro, and exchanged a look with his wife. “Why don’t you stay for dinner, Toshiro? Miura says Yuzu sent enough food for an entire division.”

The white-haired captain cleared his throat. “I don’t want to intrude,” he said slowly. “I know you haven’t seen Karin for a long time.”

“And you haven’t seen her in even longer,” Rukia pointed out brightly. “We can all catch up together. And Sumiye is less surly when we have company.”

“Che. She’s just mad because Byakuya an’ me won’t let her train with Kenpachi,” Ichigo grumbled.

“Alright,” Toshiro said, and glanced at Karin. “I wouldn’t mind eating something other than food from the barracks, for once.”

Karin willed her cheeks not to turn pink. She thought she’d gotten over her little childhood crush years ago. She was in her thirties, the idea that she could still have any sort of feelings for a man she hadn’t seen in two decades was ridiculous.

Toshiro was just an old friend, someone who’d helped her win a soccer game and fight off some hollows back when she barely knew what the things were. She was just catching up with an old friend.

But when he offered his hand to help her up from the bench so they could go inside for dinner, Karin’s heart gave a traitorous flutter.

#hitsukarin #toshiro x karin #ichiruki #ichigo x rukia #bleach fanfiction #deathberry family

[desertofsnowflakes]

Incorrect Order Chapter 7 (Nessian AU)

A/N: Do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: none ig

2097 words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3

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Wearing a tee is fairly simple. Just bunch it up and pull it over his neck, then, put his arms through. That's it. This is the third time he was trying to get himself in this damn t-shirt. The first time, he wore it the other way round. The next time he accidentally tried putting his neck where his arm was meant to go. He got snarled in the t-shirt in the process. It's a miracle the garment hadn't ripped off. His brushed hair also got mussed and tangled in the process.

Cassian sighed and held his dark brown tee up. His mind was still playing his memories with Nesta on loop. It just wouldn’t stop. Not when he was sulking, bathing, changing—

The doorbell rang. A quick glance at his wall clock confirmed that the hour was ungodly enough that most would be asleep. Wondering who exactly it was, Cassian opened the door—

—and his mind blanked out. There, standing in front of him, in all her glory was Nesta. Nesta, who had snapped at him earlier. Nesta in a white oversized sweater and black tight-fit leggings. A small bag was slung on her shoulder. He was pretty sure he was gawking like an idiot. He forced his mouth to shape her name.

***

“Nesta,” he breathed. Nesta could hear awe and reverence in his voice. So much that she shivered. There was pain in his voice too. Tears pricked her eyes. How selfish of her to run to him even after she hurt him. But she couldn’t turn away. Not now, not after walking from her home to here. She closed her eyes and swallowed. His bare torso didn’t help matters either. His torso was a wonderful masterpiece. His tattoos were starker in the moonlight. She longed to trace them with her fingers. Nesta immediately shut that train of thought. She didn’t come here for that. She came here because of Tomas. That’s it.

Cassian was peering over her shoulders when she opened her eyes. Frowning, he asked, “How did you come here? Has your cab left?”

“No,” she said. “I walked here.” His eyes snapped to her face. He took a step back and opened the door wider, “Come in,” he said.

Nesta could feel his eyes on her while she stepped through the threshold and took her time to look through his house. It wasn’t as big as Feyre’s but it was bigger than her apartment. She saw a rumpled t-shirt discarded on the dark blue couch and reigned in a smile. She heard the click of the lock and turned to face him. He looked at her and ran a hand through his hair, tousling it further. Her eyes tracked the wispy strands moving in between his slender, long fingers. Cauldron, she thought, this was going to be very difficult, indeed.

He nodded at the couch, “Have a seat. You must be tired. How long was the walk?” he queried.

She took her seat on the soft couch and replied, “Around half an hour including a short break I took.”

He nodded. The pained expression, mixed with one of longing, didn't leave his face yet. “Why are you here Nesta? Truly? Just a few hours ago, you were screaming in my face and now, you’re in my house looking rattled. What do you want?”

Nesta stared at her hands resting on her lap, took in a ragged breath and said, “Tomas.”

The shock was evident on his face. “Tomas?” he repeated. She saw as the shock on his face bled and became anger. “Did he disturb you again?” he demanded.

“No,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. “No. He wasn’t really even there. I was on my bed. Trying to get some sleep. I couldn’t sleep, I kept tossing and turning on my bed. Sleep felt so far away. But after sometime I think I fell asleep. Then I felt like I woke up. It was bright. It all felt weird to me. And that was when I saw him. He was in my room. His hand was around my neck, squeezing. He was talking and talking.” The words were gushing out of her now, a panicked flow of words. She continued, “Then he slapped me. He also had a knife with him. He kept threatening me. Telling me about the way he said he wanted to kill me. And—and he used his knife on me. He stabbed my arm and kept dragging upward slowly. It hurt like hell. That was what I didn’t understand. The pain. It all felt very real. Most of all, my pain.” She looked back at Cassian. He was silently listening, she was grateful for that. “That’s why I came here,” she admitted. “I got scared. The vulnerability I felt… I want to be ready when he comes back. And he will come back. He isn’t the type to let things go. I need your help. Help me,” she pleaded. She wasn’t aware of the tear escaping her eye.

Cassian got up and seated himself beside her. He cupped her cheek. Unconsciously, she leaned closer to him. He gently brushed her tears away. “I’ll help you,” he said gently. “You’ll be ready. When the time comes, you’ll be ready. I’ll make sure of it. Only if you call me Cass.”

She grinned. “That wouldn’t be very difficult,” she said.

***

Cassian felt like he was selling his soul in a bargain to the devil. He knew. He knew that this wouldn’t end well for him. He knew he’ll end up having his heart broken. But he couldn’t resist. He couldn’t bring himself to say no to her.

Nesta wrapped her arms around his middle. He froze. The sensation of her hands on his bare skin was a shock to his senses and elicited a shiver down his spine. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much. Really.” she gave him a playful smile. “Cass,”she said with more emphasis than necessary. And Mother, he didn’t regret letting her call him Cass one bit.

She yawned and stretched like a cat. He liked that too, he decided.

“Have you slept?” he asked.

“A bit. You?”

He shook his head. He gestured to her to follow him up the stairs. “You can sleep here till dawn in Mor’s room. You know, the room you used the last time.”

“Cass,” she said. He halted, turning back to face her. “I really need to say this. I’m sorry. Truly. I shouldn’t have said what I did last night.”

He didn’t say it’s okay because it really wasn’t. He just nodded, acknowledging her apology, showing her that he couldn’t forget how much it hurt him but he’ll try to come to terms with both of their mistakes. They reached Mor’s door.

She hesitated. “I don’t have any clothes to change to,” she said.

“It’s fine,” he said. “Mor’s clothes would fit you, though it would be slightly loose. You can also use the bathroom to wash up or anything else you want to do. I’ll be in the room down the corridor—” he said, gesturing to the second last door— “so just knock if you need anything, okay?”

She nodded and thanked him again before closing the door and preparing for bed. He entered his room and plopped on the bed. It might’ve been how tired he felt or it might have been her presence two rooms away, but in mere minutes, Cass was fast asleep.

***

A few fast and hard knocks on his door woke Cassian from his sleep. Groggily, he opened the door to find Nesta in a tank top and shorts. Very short shorts. She looked disturbed, though.

“What happened?” he asked her.

“I can’t sleep,” she said, her voice small.

Cassian’s heart, or at least, what was left of it, broke. He hated to see this. Cold, sharp Nesta now, standing in front of him, scared and afraid. He felt a surge of protectiveness in him. He wanted to tuck her to his side and shield her from every and any harm that would come to her.

He held his hand out for her and brought her into his room. “Sit,” he gestured to his bed, “What do you want to do?”

She smiled tentatively, “Would you tell me about yourself? We haven’t introduced ourselves properly. I think I want to hear more about you from you yourself. And if you want… I could tell you some things about myself too.”

He sat on the bed beside her and said, “That’ll be fun.” He saw this not only as a means to escape the horrid things in her head, but also as a peace offering. He couldn’t forgive and forget the things she told him earlier but he could try to play along with her patching up.

“Who’s gonna start first?” she asked.

He dramatically placed his hand on his bare chest in a variation of a bow and said, “After you, my lady.”

She laughed and asked, “Do you ever wear a shirt at home?”

“Why? Getting distracted already?”

“Can’t you just answer my question?” she asked hotly, though a light blush was creeping up her cheeks.

The corner of his lips kicked up a notch, “I do wear shirts at home.”

“Good,” she said and opened her mouth to continue when he interrupted her.

“Wait,” he said, “Now, you haven’t answered my question.”

“I didn’t deem it worthy enough to answer.”

He pouted, “You wound me, Nes.”

“Stop being overdramatic. And don’t call me Nes!” she snapped half heartedly.

“Twice,” aggrievedly, he said, “you wounded me twice. Also,” he smirked, leaning closer to her, “you like it.”

“Like which?”

“Being called Nes.”

“I don’t.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Now you’re the one who’s getting distracted. What did we plan for and what are we doing now? If this is how things are gonna be, I think you’ll prove to be a very bad teacher.”

“Now, Nes, you need to know that I’m good at many, many things and would prove to be an extremely focused teacher,” he said, voice husky. He knew she caught his meaning when the blush on her cheeks deepened. He leaned back on his palms, “Go on.”

So she spoke. She told him of her time when both her parents were alive; of the time when they grieved their mother’s death; when she kept herself away from her sisters after becoming orphans; when she made the mistake of falling for Tomas. “Honestly,” she had told him, “when I look at him now, I wonder how I fell in love with him in the first place.” She then told him of how her relationship with Tomas was a toxic one; him being abusive and controlling; how he made her feel low of herself; how he never respected her; how he kept cheating on her. She told Cassian of the day Tomas hit her and accused her of cheating just because he saw her paying for her groceries at a male’s counter. She told him of how she called the police immediately after and got him behind bars. By the time she was over, Nesta was curled by his side, tears silently streaming down her beautiful face, him rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Then he told her about himself. He decided to tell her the plain truth without any alterations. She deserved it. But it felt intimate, somehow, sharing the details he hadn’t spoken out loud. Even Az and Rhys had only seen what he did and never pushed afterwards. He told her as much before telling her about how much he loved his mother; of how he never knew his father and that was for his father’s own good; of how his mother was killed one day while he was at school; of how he beat the men involved into pulp; of how he was called a brute and a bastard there on; of how he first met Rhys and Az at his school; of how Rhys’s mother took him in as her own son; of the silly things and the trouble the trio would create.

“You are a very good friend, Cass. And an even better man,” Nes said

His heart warmed. He said, “Don’t care about what Tomas said. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, brave, witty and sharp woman. And I,” he paused, “I like you very much as a friend too.”

He didn’t understand the short pang of disappointment on his face. All he could think was, shit, I almost said I loved her.

taglist: @shadowsinger07 @im-someone-i-guess @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @nehemikkele @angelic-voice-1997 @heartless--aromantic @sv0430 @vinylcryes @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @sjm-things @dontgetsalmonella @ganseys-jane

#writeblr #kepper's writing #sarah j mass #sjm #sjmaas #sjmverse #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acotar au #nesta archeron #nesta #cassian #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #nesta and cassian #cassian and nesta #nessian #nessian fanfiction #nessian au #incorrect order

[joonkorre]

(love) is a heartache

@drarrymicrofic prompt: hope is a heartache - léon

let it be known that harry goes through life purely on vibes. half of his reasons why for every decision at his big age are “idk imma just hope for the best”

ao3

People’s hearts twinge sometimes. For Draco, he can barely remember the last time he doesn’t have these twinges. It’s pretty normal at this point.

“No, it’s not,” Pansy says. She’s a Healer, so she’s probably right. But Draco prefers to ignore that.

“Leave it be,” Draco murmurs, lips against her scalp, “I’m fine. Say, are you free tomorrow?”

“Yeah. You want to go somewhere?”

“Mm. Sleep.”

They go out the next morning, Pansy in thick makeup and Draco practically drunk under nine layers of Charms. The air is a bit humid, which seems to get worse when the bustling street intensifies in volume into a roaring din. Pansy pulls him under an awning, yanking at his sleeve a bit to try out her disgusting sugary coffee. She always does this whenever she wants to take his attention away from something, which means he just has to look at exactly where she’s doesn’t want him to. As his lips wrap around her lipstick-stained straw, he glances up.

Across the street, a couple strolls through a gushing crowd. Fiery red hair, airy laughter, a pale arm wrapped around her fiancé’s waist. Curls of black, sleek spectacles, a protective palm on his fiancee’s shoulder. They make the perfect picture, a vibrant oil painting. Their existence is formed from bold strokes of sunlight and starburst kisses, with the focal point being a shock of phthalo green and cadmium lemon, two minute specks that make all the difference. As all good paintings do, they pin the viewer on the spot, as if the viewer himself is a thing to behold. Then they shift away.

The exhibit moves forward and out of sight. It’s closing time, the viewer has overstayed his welcome.

Something leaps in Draco’s chest and splatters on the floor of his stomach. Placing her hand over his heart, Pansy frowns at him. She doesn’t ask why Potter stared at someone who looked like a stranger to him. Only tells him to start finding answers.

Months later, on the most awaited day in recent Wizarding history, there’s a knock on Draco’s door.

He throws on a sweater, and a throw, too, for good measure. Ambling to the door, he checks the mail slot before peeking through the peephole. Nobody but a package is outside. Draco hums and unlocks his door, crouching down the moment it opens. What feels like soft satin brushes against his cheek, cool and smooth. With a flash, a pair of shiny dress shoes appear before him.

“Draco.”

Draco peers up as he rises, hands around the package. Potter has his maddening Invisibility Cloak slung over his arm, his roguish charm heightened by a perfectly fitted three-piece suit. A tiny posy is pinned on his left lapel, muted green hellebores with a few sprigs of privet berries. He’s dressed like a man in love.

Draco feels something he hasn’t felt in months at the sight. He’s trained himself to suppress it the moment it showed itself and has been relatively successful until now. The sting, without warning, bursts from within his chest, calling forth a slight wince. Potter’s brows furrow.

"How do you know where I live?"

“How long has this been going on?”

Draco frowns. “Pardon?”

“That,” Potter gestures at Draco’s chest. “The heartache.”

He rears back. What the hell is he supposed to say to that? At Potter’s unchanging expression, Draco shoves his hair out of his face with a quiet huff and puts a hand on the doorknob.

“It’s none of your business. Please leave.”

“It is, actually,” Potter stops the closing door with one arm.

“Excuse me? We haven't had a proper conversation in more than a decade and suddenly you want to act like we're friends? Leave, now.”

“Listen to me. How can it not be my business when I feel it, too?”

“Check with a Healer, then. If you can put past grudges aside, I can hand you Pansy Parkinson’s business card,” Draco grits through his teeth, pushing against the door with his entire body, his throw slipping to the ground.

“Draco, stop, I already know, stop.”

“Know what? No, I don't care. Leave at once, else I’d alert the Aurors.”

A rough slam sends Draco staggering back. Potter pants, hard lines on his face. His chest heaves under his crisp white shirt, its top two buttons unclasped, and he steps over the threshold, closing the door.

“You think they’d believe you?”

The pain shoots from his chest to the rest of his body, and for several seconds, his lungs wouldn’t work. He whips his head away from Potter, who groans and sags against the wall.

“I told you to leave.”

“I’m sorry, that was a shitty thing to say,” Potter says immediately, sweat dotting his temples.

After an uncomfortable pause, clearing his throat, he picks up the near-forgotten package from the carpet. His hand feels around the outline of the object within, rectangular and heavy. Glancing at Draco, he says hoarsely. “I know why you bought this book.”

“Know this, know that, you know nothing,” Draco lunges forward, only for Potter to twist out of the way and raise the package out of his reach.

“The Life-long Burden of Dark Curses: A Caution by Elise Arrowlane, limited edition,” he says, unbothered by Draco’s slackened jaw. “You ordered it from the new bookstore on Diagon months ago. You were small and old and grey, but I recognized you. I always could.”

“Okay,” Draco sneers, “so you’re a stalker. Old news. Anything else?”

“There’s no need to order one. I would’ve borrowed it from Hermione if you had only asked,” Potter says. “Instead, I got curious and read it for myself. That’s how I connected the dots about the heartache, how I realized we’ve both had it since that day years ago.”

“Oh, the day you slashed me into ribbons and almost cut through my heart?” Draco clenches his jaw.

Being able to shout this ugly kind of truth into the perpetrator’s face feels oddly liberating. That is, if liberation also comes with a specific kind of agony that makes Draco want to fall to his knees.

“Dark Magic leaves a mark on both the wizard and their victim, doesn’t it? No need for a book to tell us that,” Potter says, the harsh afternoon glow of him gentled by the soft lamplight in Draco’s hallway. “In certain cases, it even leaves a link. A connection.”

Draco bites the inside of his cheek and looks away. The only consequence from that horrid night was his fucked up heart and nothing else, nothing at all. Whatever Potter is insinuating, he hates it. He hates this. He hates him.

“How are you so sure there’s a connection.”

“I wasn’t,” Potter says. “The Healers said it’s a health thing I developed after the War and I just needed to avoid strenuous activity. I didn’t think much of it, but then I read the book and realized that it usually flared up whenever you watched me.”

Scoffing, Draco turns and stalks into the kitchen. Walking past the boiling kettle, he throws a cabinet door open and grabs a mug, his hand trembling.

“Interesting how my health suffers when I see the bastard who quite literally carved me open.”

“I was eating dinner when I thought I was going to die of a heart attack at 23,” Potter continues. Draco pulls the drawers out, unable to find a single bag of tea for several excruciating moments. “The next day, I was reading about your mother’s death on the Daily Prophet. That was the first sign.”

Grabbing a rag and wetting it, Draco wipes the countertop even as he’s just done so last night.

“When Ginny saw you on the street during our date and extended her hand toward you, you shook it. But your heart ached.

“I saw you looking at the picture of Ginny and I kissing on the front page of Witch Weekly. Your hair was brown and your back was curved, but I saw you. Your heart ached.

“When I announced my engagement to her on the Battle of Hogwarts’s 10th Anniversary, you were clapping along with everyone else. But your heart ached.”

Draco throws the rag on the counter. The kettle whistles, a piercing sound. “What’s your point? Are you here purely to flaunt your relationship and imply that I’m in love with Ginevra Weasley? If so, I got it. Thank you so very much, it’s been enlightening. Now get out.”

“The point is,” Potter says, lifting the kettle off the burner to pour it into Draco’s mug, placing his tea bag in, “unless the article about you being gay was wrong, Ginny isn’t the one you’re in love with.”

“What arti—” Draco stops. “That was years ago.”

His sexuality was leaked to some irrelevant gossip rag, not even making the front page. Nobody noticed, nothing changed, and it hasn’t entered his mind in what feels like forever until Potter reminds him.

“I remember.”

“You—” Draco frowns. His eyes strain on the cup of tea until they hurt. He squeezes them shut, sighing. “It doesn’t prove anything. Perhaps I’m jealous of my childhood nemesis having a better life than me, ever thought of that?”

“Yeah,” Potter says, “I’ve thought about this a lot. Which is why I’m here. To make sure.”

Draco takes it in, then, unable to help himself, curls his lips at Potter and his attire. At his artfully gelled hair, his hanging bow tie, the elegant boutonniere on the lapel of his dark blue suit. His empty ring finger.

“Couldn’t you have chosen a better date to make sure? Preferably before your wedding day?”

Potter steps closer. A respectable distance away, but closer.

“I could’ve, but I spent most of those days in denial. Then the dots connected and I couldn’t deny it anymore, so I decided to just go through with the wedding regardless, be with the woman I loved. Hoped that maybe the odd emotions I had would go away,” he shrugs, raising his eyes to meet Draco’s. “Saw Ginny at the end of the aisle and, well, I couldn’t stop thinking that it should’ve been someone else. All this time, I’ve thought that she didn’t feel… right in my arms, but I pushed it down. And there she was in that white dress.

“Seeing that today was the last straw. I had to leave.”

Draco’s breath catches in his throat. Swallowing it down, he grabs his mug, scooping out the tea bag just to have something to do. He takes a sip without blowing, ignoring its scalding heat.

“That was stupid.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Draco can feel a headache building. “That was a horrible decision. I never imagined you—you!—out of all people, could be this irresponsible. What the fuck.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am. Merlin, that poor fucking woman. If your purpose here is to make me feel bad for Ginevra and all 300 of her relatives for once in my life, you’ve succeeded, congratulations.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that to me, say that to—oh, you’d do what you want no matter what I say, wouldn’t you?”

“Depends on the situation.”

“‘Depends on the situation,’ he says,” Draco mocks, getting a carton of milk from the fridge to save his bitter, bitter tea. Potter doesn’t reply. Stirring the milk in, Draco lets out a heavy sigh.

“What do you want me to do about this?” He says. “I didn’t make you run out of your own wedding. If you expect me to take the blame for your inane decisions, the first person I Floo wouldn’t be the Aurors, but Ginevra Weasley herself.”

A small smile graces Potter’s lips. “I don’t expect anything from you but honesty.”

Draco squints.

“And how will you know if what I say is a lie? Will you reject my genuine answer if it’s not what you want to hear?”

“That won’t be a problem,” Potter says. “I trust your heart will speak the truth for us both.”

There’s a pang in Draco’s chest, and judging from the twitch of Potter’s brow, he can feel it too. Not another word is said, the two men merely facing each other from across a tiny kitchen, considering. Draco can feel the warmth of sunlight beaming through the little window and coating his nape as he leans against the sink, earl grey on his tongue. Lovely citric notes of bergamot drift up his nose. He closes his eyes. What to do, what to do.

Weightless oxfords clack against the yellowed tiles, clear and bright in Draco’s ears. Fabric rustles as Potter slips a hand into his pocket only to retrieve it a second later. Draco lets himself be cornered, barely glancing at the wool-clad arms caging either side of his waist. A clink catches his attention, however, and he tilts his head to the left.

Millimeters beside Draco’s hand on the counter, glinting in the sun, is a wedding band. Draco knows Potter and Ginevra’s in and out, has examined the picture on that day’s issue of the Daily Prophet more times than he should have. He knows the marquise droplets of Ginevra’s gems and the chevron curve of her ring, the blankness of Potter’s own band a dream and a question in his mind.

The band that’s resting on the counter is different. Rustic gold and a fissure in the middle, the fertile earth splitting open to reveal a stream of diamonds, a sparkling river. Draco sets his mug to the side and holds the ring up close, his finger smoothing over the grooves of its texture.

“Did you make a stop at a jewelry store before breaking into my home?” He asks.

“No,” Harry murmurs. Draco looks at him in surprise. “I’ve had this with me for months.”

A pause.

“I thought you said you were in denial.”

“I was, but I knew, somewhat, that I wanted someone else,” Harry’s head lowers, slow and careful, until his forehead rests against Draco’s shoulder. “I told myself that I just liked the way it looked, had to get it in case I didn’t want the other ring anymore. But I got it a size smaller. Been carrying it in my pocket ever since.”

Draco’s heart throbs and throbs. Large hands circle his waist, bunching up the back of his sweater and pressing him close, chest to chest. A blanket of pure heat envelops his body as he breathes in the timeless saffron and neroli of cologne, half-lidded eyes pinned on the band he’s given. Oh, dear, he thinks, and again when it settles at the base of his ring finger with ease, as if it belongs there and never left. Oh, dear.

#drarrymicrofic #drarry #drarry fanfiction #drarry fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #yeah erm harry isn't the brightest bean in the pod or whatever that saying goes #they'll work it out i promise #draco's idea of a first date would be dragging harry over to the weasleys and forcing him to give ginny a formal apology #like ok he doesn't care about her at all but having this woman's unhappiness on his conscience is unbearable #also i really like the idea of the sectumsempra fucking up draco's bodily functions #the scars are really cool but i especially like it when the consequences are idk more visceral and clearly lower draco's quality of life #im not gonna get into the whole connection thing bc idk either #just know that whenever draco feels something intensely #like grief fear jealousy and ooooh heartbreak #his heart throbs and harry also feels it #in this fic harry's secretly happy that despite the whole shitty heart thing there's an unbreakable connection between the two #he needs some work in this fic but he means well i assure yall #draco seeing harry canoodling w ginny and feeling his heart hurt: that was weird haha #joonkorre writes

[kj-1130]

Chapter 4

Just Like Magic

Main Masterlist

     Calypso sat on the bucket that she had officially proclaimed as her seat. 

     “Come on up! Come on up, folks! And see the amazing C Master perform her newest trick,” her assistant yelled. 

     In actuality, it was one of the little girls, Ivy, from the home she visited. The little seven year old practically worshipped the ground the teen walked on. Calypso figured that the adorableness and pure innocence that came with the young child would be great in aiding her ‘sells’ and it especially helped that little Ivy just lost her two front teeth and had a slight lisp when she talked. 

     Or maybe it was the mystery/unusualness of the situation. There were two kids sitting in front of the park just about everyday, even when they should’ve been in school. One always had a black hoodie--regardless of the temperature--and a mask that covered the bottom of their face while the younger hadn’t even hit their growth spurt yet. And all without an adult. 

     Either way, Calypso didn’t give a fuck. She just needed a certain distance between her and another person and quick hands. And she sure as hell had some quick hands. 

     As the crowd continued to grow (although it seemed some just wanted to humor the kids), the teen stood and made herself known.

     “For this trick, I’ll be needing a volunteer. Anyone?”

     Immediately, the four or five children that seemed to be within the sea of people raised their hands, all yelling variations of ‘Me! Pick me!’

     While Calypso thought the kids were absolutely darling and the look of awe on their faces after she pulled the trick off would’ve been quite endearing, they weren’t the ones she wanted. Because they didn’t have anything of value to her. Sure, she could’ve stolen the candy that was in their pockets for shits and giggles but she wasn’t that cruel. 

     So her eyes continued to scan across the crowd, specifically looking at wrists and hands, necks, hell even ears. But eventually, her eyes had been caught and her determination had risen about one thousand levels. And she thanked whatever lords were above as her eyes squinted when she smirked and made eye contact with her ‘volunteer’.

     “You, in the teal skirt.” 

     The woman seemed surprised as she glanced at the others surrounded around her and reluctantly made her way towards the teenager. The woman seemed quite short, but luckily for Calypso she had worn heels making the two practically eye to eye. 

     Once she made it to the front, the noise coming from the group had significantly lowered as they noticed the magician pull out a deck of cards. Shuffling them a little, the teen raised her gaze and made eye contact with her participant. 

     “What’s your name?”

     “Susan,” the woman replied albeit a little hesitant. 

     “Okay, Susan, here’s how this is gonna work. I’m gonna show you my deck, you’re gonna pick a card. Then I’ll try to see if I can guess your card.”

     Taking a pause she reaches behind the woman’s left ear and pulls out a card presenting it to the audience. 7 of spades. 

     “Just like that.”

     Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she raises an eyebrow at the woman in front of her.

     “Got it?”

     With no further words, Calypso takes her hands and spreads the cards between them. The teen closes her eyes and turns her head to the side to ensure the audience that she isn’t cheating. She can faintly hear Ivy whispering to the audience trying to keep them interested. 

     “Better keep watching, folks. You don’t wanna miss this at all.”

     Finally, she’s alerted by a tap on her hand that Susan had completed her task and opened her eyes. 

     “Alright. Look at your card. Remember it. Put it back in the stack.”

     The woman did as told and watched as the child in front of her went into her zone, shuffling the cards once again. Abruptly, the teen stopped and looked up. 

     “It’s not in here.”

     Susan frowned and tilted her head, “I’m pretty sure I placed it back properly.”

     It took everything in Calypso not to roll her eyes at the woman and her tone. 

     “Well, it’s not here and--oh wait!”

     She reached behind the adult’s right ear and pulled the card out. 

     “There it is! How did it even get back there?

     The audience erupted into quiet cheers as the two kids regrouped and bowed. A few tips were placed in the raggedy satchel that sat next to the teen’s bucket. 

     As the people dispersed, the older of the two ran up to her bag and checked the amount they received. 

     “Hey, we actually got more tips than trash today! 25 bucks.”

     Ivy looked up from where she was packing her backpack up with a frown, “No more of those condom things?”

     The coily-headed teen snorted and shook her head. 

     “Nah, there’s still...one in here.”

     “It’s better than six,” the seven-year-old muttered. 

     With a smile etched onto her face, Calypso pulled her mask off and made her way to her ‘sister’. 

     “Why did you pick her and not one of the kids?”

     As the teen walked out of her self-proclaimed alley, a woman ran into her. 

     “Ugh, watch where you’re going you little demon!”

     Agitated, Calypso looked the woman up and down. 

     “Ugly ass skirt,” she muttered before walking away.

     “No reason,” the elder replied.

     They began their trek back to the house with the honks and yells filling the silence between the two. 

     Ivy and Calypso had always been close; not saying the latter wasn’t close with any of the other kids. The teen was there when the girl had first arrived at the home, looking scared and lost. Hell, she didn’t blame her at all. 

     For some strange reason, the then toddler had latched herself to her. Calypso thinks that she sees some of her in the young girl. But she couldn’t be sure; her mind wasn’t all that reliable. 

     As they neared the place of their residence, the elder wrapped her arm around Ivy’s shoulder. 

     “Thanks for doing this with me today, Vee.”

     The younger girl rolled her eyes and slipped from the teen’s embrace. 

     “Yeah, yeah. Just make sure I get my cut,” she said as she ran up the ramp and into the door.

     “Little asshole.”

-

     It was later in the evening when Calypso was out and about again. The pocket inside of her satchel had been recently filled with at least 300 bucks from the earrings she had just pawned (Harold owed her a favor). 

     She decided that the weather was nice enough to take a small stroll through the park and took out her mask and flipped her hood up--well as far as she could considering there was a puff sitting on top of her head. 

     As her eyes danced across the park, someone--a woman with sunglasses came into her view. A very familiar woman at that. 

     She pretended that she wasn’t suspicious and went on with her walk as if she knew nothing. But in her peripheral, she continued to inconspicuously observe this person who was now in the front of her mind. Calypso turned her head in their direction and she saw her head drop. 

     Her eyes wandered across the park as her heart rate increased. She just had to show up today. Would she ever get off of my back?

     The teen then sped up her pace, hands gripping the strap of her satchel. Why today of all days? 

     She was sick of all this glancing over her shoulder. She was sick of all the paranoia. This woman just wouldn’t quit. 

     Her sick smile and her claws she called nails always made the young girl’s skin crawl. 

     Calypso allowed herself one more look over the shoulder before climbing up the tree that she hoped would give her the anonymity she needed. 

     The woman took step after step, heels clacking against the cement. Who the hell wears heels to the park?

     Each click spiked fear through Calypso’s body. It was if there was a jolt of electricity that would flow through her with each of her movements. 

     With shaky hands, the teen lifted an old camera out of her bag and snapped a picture. She watched as the woman made her way out of the park, letting out a breath of relief, the tension following behind. 

     Today of all days. 

-

     Debbie raised an eyebrow at Lou when a knock reverberated throughout the room. The platinum blonde shrugged in reply to the silent question as the brunette made her way to the entrance of the loft. 

     The woman looked through the peephole and furrowed her eyebrows before opening the door. Outside was a teen, practically shivering (Debbie didn’t know if it was from the cold or from nerves) with pleading eyes. 

     “You gotta help me. Please.”

#ocean's 8 imagine #ocean’s 8 #debbie ocean #debbie ocean x oc #lou miller #lou miller x oc #nine ball #nine ball x oc #constance #constance x oc #rose weil #rose weil x oc #daphne kluger #daphne kluger x oc #amita #amita x oc #tammy robinson #tammy x oc #ocean's 8 x oc #poc #poc!oc

[twhiddlestonsx]

The last minute spring of Disney that Lizzie put on Tom, had him running around his house like a bat out of hell, between packing his carry-on and making sure Loki would be well situated. He and Lizzie booked a later flight and it was about time for him to leave and pick her up at her house, given she lived a bit closer to the airport. On his way over, he asked Siri to send her a ten-minute warning text and asked if she could meet him outside, given he was a bit behind schedule. They still had plenty of time, really, but Tom liked arriving at airports two hours early and LAX was huge. You just never knew if security would be long or if something would go wrong with tickets or the parking pass. As soon as he arrived, he saw Lizzie exiting her house right on queue.

Tom moved out of the vehicle immediately, swiftly moving towards her. “There she is! In all her righteous glory! We are not worthy of miss Elizabeth Olsen, Emmy-award-nominated-actress and soon-to-be...winner.” He mock bowed several times on his way up to her, reaching for her hand and pulled her in his arms. “Tom Hiddleston’s girlfriend, second.” Tom moved his head down to kiss her deeply, immediately wrapping his arms tighter around her waist and lifted her off the ground, swinging her around in a circle as he hugged her to his body, tight enough to where it were almost bone-crushing. He set her down after several moments, still holding her close and kissing her until he pulled the air out of both of their lungs. “If that didn’t tell you how proud I am of you, I’m telling you now.” He smiled, resting his hands over either side of her face before kissing her forehead and reaching behind her for her suitcase. “Okay, off to Disney, we go.”

Tom packed some small books of poems and Shakespeare in his personal bag to pass the time on the flights to and from, and the waiting in the airports. He was content and quiet most of the flight, which was pretty sparse and kept dark inside, giving them two rows worth to themselves and allowing hand holding. He occasionally played with Lizzie’s fingers, leaned over to kiss her or would whisper-read her something in her ear that spoke to him and thought she’d like. Then, he’d eventually fallen asleep during the last hour and a half, his head situated on top of Lizzie’s and hand rested on her thigh. It was the best sleep he’d ever gotten on a flight before. Getting to the hotel was easy, regardless of how tired and slightly jet-lagged he felt, not even allowing himself to consider the lack of sleep they’d get before having to get up and go into the parks.

As soon as they woke up from the alarm, Tom big-spooning and cuddling the hell out of Lizzie, he pressed his face into the back of her neck and groaned, burying his face in her hair. It took him five minutes to get up, feeling like he’d been hit by a train. First thing he did was make a small pot of the complimentary room coffee for the both of them, then he changed into a navy blue t-shirt and black shorts, washed his face and brushed his teeth and hair, lounging on the bed while he waited for Lizzie to finish getting ready. As soon as she was, he reached in the nightstand drawer before standing and walking over to her, handing her a velvety navy blue jewelry case. Inside it held a small but gorgeous red stone that matched Wanda’s colors perfectly, some little flecks of green in that matched Loki’s colors when the sun hit right, and a pair of matching stud earrings. What better time to give her than right before going into Disney. “Here, my love. It’s a gift for your Emmy nomination.” He ran his hand along Lizzie’s upper-arm then moved to rest it around her waist, kissing her forehead. @lizcolsn​

#para:lizzie #tw:long post

[coffeecakefanfics]

In the middle | Midsize!FemReader x B.B

A/n: This is for my midsize girls but tbh anyone can read it <3 also requests are open

Warnings: Mentions of Ass throwing, Drinking, Mentions of body insecurities, Mentions of cuts and bruises,18+ themes

Being Midsized is weird. You’re too fat to be skinny but too skinny to be fat, you’re in this weird middle ground where you feel uncomfortable yet sexy at the same time.  You LOVE your big thighs and ass but HATE your tummy, it’s awkward

Y/n suffered from this problem, she had a great set of tits and a decent ass and the CUTEST tummy ever!  The problem though? Finding and outfit for parties, parties like the pool party and hangout that Tony made mandatory for the Avengers.  The sound of laughter shook through the compound as Y/n walked into the indoor pool and hot tub, music was playing and drinks were in hand. 

“There she is!” Nat yelled and held her drink up. A couple people cheered and Y/n bowed playfully. A laugh tumbled from her lips as she grabbed a bottle of a mikes hard, something sweet.  

“Come on get in,” Nat motioned for the girl to get into the hot tub. Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. 

“Come on, take it off!” Sam teased. 

“Shut up, I’m getting in” she laughed and tugged at the ties of black cover up. 

“Take it off, take it off!” A couple more people joined in.  The girl laughed and turned with her back to them and let the cover up drop to her waist, playful cheers filled the room now as she dropped the cover up. 

“Daamn mama,” Wanda whistled.

“I know I know,” Y/n played back. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault, he’d blame it on the way that the highwisted black suit cupped her ass, the way her thighs jiggled when she walked, how incredible the view of her breasts were sitting in the top that he let his mind wander to how gorgeous she’d look under him. 

“Bucky?” she voice pulled his mind back

“I think pretty boy might like the view,” Tony chirpped. 

“Tony shut up, leave the kid alone,” Y/n rolled her eyes at the older man. 

“What were you saying?” Bucky felt his cheeks dust

“I was asking if you were going on the mission tomorrow?” her eyes were soft, and innocent, glints of happiness shook through them.

“Yeah, Me, you and Steve are running this one,” he bit his lip.  The night continued on, drinking, laughing, it was almost. . . peaceful, that was until the sex talk started. 

“Come on Y/n how many?” Thor was the one poking now. 

“Ew no i’m not here to get slut shamed,” she laughed and sipped her drink, Bucky’s eyes drifted to how her lips sat so perfectly against the bottle. 

“Don’t be a baby,” He continued pushing. 

“Fine but you can’t laugh,” she shot him a look and he held his hands up in defence, “My body count is 3,” she shrugged and took another sip. 

“You’re lying,” Sam scoffed playfully and sipped his own drink.

“I’m serious, My first was a kid named Damien Salazar in 11th grad, then there was Troy Cash my second year of college and then I had a guy after we broke up that was so bad that I forgot his name,” she shrugged. 

“I really was expecting more,” Thor shrugged himself. 

“That’s hurtful,” she teased, “Even if it was more I wouldn’t be less of a woman for it, no one is,” she spoke stern. 

“No that’s not why we’re curious, you just never talk to us about this stuff,” Wanda noted.

“I mean you club with us and throw ass all the time but we never get to the personal stuff like that, you’re the only one we didn’t know,” Nat slung an arm around the girl, who laid her head on her.

“That’s a fair point,” The girl laughed.

“Question,” Bucky spoke up, “What the fuck is throwing ass?” The laughter after was deafening.

“Oh poor sweet baby Buck,” Sam patted his back before giving a pointed look to the girl across from them.

“Sam Wilson I know damn well you do not expect me to corrupt that poor man,” she shot up from Nats shoulder

“Come on, the man is 106 years old and hasn’t been twerked on, do him a solid. 

“I can’t and won’t have this conversation,” she rolled her eyes and took the last sip of her drink. “I am off to bed, See you two freaks in the morning,” she waved and wrapped a towel around her body. 

The mission went smooth, well except for a few bumps and bruises and a gash to Y/n’s suit, but it went smoothly.  Back at the compound she found herself restless, tossing and turning in bed led her to the kitchen, standing over a pot of coffee waiting for it to brew. 

“Can’t sleep?” The voice made her jump, spinning around to find Bucky standing by the table.

“Jesus Buck, A warning,” she smiled at him.

“Want a cup?” she pointed to the pot behind her.  Bucky simply nodded. 

“Nightmares?” she asked and slid a blue cup across the table to him.

“I don’t have nightmares,” he spoke, taking a sip.

“Okay Bucky,” she dropped it, holding the warm cup in her hands.   It wasn’t nightmares him up it was a feeling of, hate? no that’s not the word, discomfort in his body.  Something he never spoke of was the insecurity of his arm, he hated how the metal felt.  It kept him up sometimes, there was a point in time where he would try to claw it off, the scars are faintly there.

“What’s got you up?” he asked, carefully.

“Personal shit, I don’t need to make it your problem, her words were flat, nothing like how she normally spoke to him. 

“I’m here you know, to talk” his words tumbled, he never knew or was good at opening up.

“You too buck,” She smiled and took a sip.  Bucky studied how she leant against the counter, her her shirt draped her body, loose and hiding her figure, how her shorts were slightly risen up.  He loved her body, he loved how she looked in her suit, it hugged her ass and tits perfectly and outlined her figure, Bucky loved her tummy when he could see it, like when they sparred.

“Earth to Buck,” she was grinning at him. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled and felt a blush creep up his face.

“What’s on your mind?” she had finished her drink and sat the cup in the sink.

“it’s uh- nothing,” he sipped the coffee.

“it’s not nothing because you drifted off, so spill” Bucky felt his head spinning, he couldn’t ask her that, he had too much respect for her.

“My door is open if you need it,” she smiled and let her fingers dance across his shoulder on the way out.  Bucky let out his breath and hung his head. He was so down bad. 

Once every three months shield brings their agents in to spar with the avengers, test them on hand to hand combat.  Y/n was slowly walking around the ring with her hands in defense, everyone stood around watching her and then new initiate.

“Go!” Fury yelled, the initiate jumped at the girl who dodged, tripping her up.  The initiate growled and lunged at Y/n again tossing punch after punch and throwing kicks. Y/n caught the girls foot and used it to pull her down.

“Time!” Fury called again.  Y/n locked eyes with Bucky who smirked at her. Y/n held her hand out to the initiate, the girl took it and smiled at Y/n. 

“Hey you did great, work on your defense a little more and you’ll be perfect” 

“Thank you” the girl smiled and left the ring. 

“Maybe if you lost some weight you’d be too,” a males voice spoke, accidentally too loud.  Y/n’s stomach dropped, feeling sick.  Her shoulders slumped for a second before a fire lit behind her eyes. 

“In the ring now!” she barked.

“Oh shit,” Sam cleared his throat.

“Here we go,” Tony took a deep breath and shook his head.  The young man scoffed and set foot into the ring.

“Go!” Fury called.  The man lunged, prematurely and ended up getting a shoulder to the stomach as Y/n took him down. He hit the ground with a huff.

“Again” he demanded. Y/n cracked her fingers, and held her defense.  The man was agitated, he was bouncing on his feet, rookie mistake.  He threw a couple punches that landed but when his strategy didn’t change Y/n saw the opportunity and sprung loose.  She blocked his punch with her forearm before kicking the back of his knee causing him to tumble, she set her foot on his throat, not putting any pressure, just to freak the kid out. 

“Listen up, I worked my fucking ass off to be in the place that I am in today, you’re all here to do the same, every one of you was seen as better than your peers.  With that being said does anyone else have any more dumb shit to say?” Her voice was sharp, thick, heavy.  The initiates eyes were trained on the ground, some were shifting, the energy in the room shifted and was uncomfortable.  Y/n jumped out of the ring and grabbed her bag, letting the gym door slam behind her. The team looked at each other with almost pity for the girl. 

“Nat, you’re in” Tony spoke calmly, trying to return the air.

“You fucked up kid,” He half sneered at the initiate who fumbled down the steps.

“I’ll go check on her,” Bucky mumbled to Sam.

“Let her cool off a bit man, she’s hurt,” Sam offered.  Bucky shook his head and left the gym. 

The door to her room was in fact unlocked, but Bucky still knocked before entering, waiting for her voice to speak.

“Come in” She had her back to him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I just wanted to check on you, I’m sorry I’ll-”

“No, no it’s okay. Thank you, it means a lot,” she smiled at him sadly.  His heart broke at the sight of her. 

“Look about what that kid said, he doesn’t know shit,” Bucky spoke carefully, he was trying to tread lightly.  She sat on the edge of her bed and let her head fall into her hands. 

“He’s right, I mean i’m in the gym 6 days a week and i’m lifting weights for 5.  But no matter what I do i’m still in this awful middle ground of being too fat but also ‘skinny’ and I fucking hate it. I hate my body and how it looks and I constantly feel like I stick out on the team,” the tears had started again.  Bucky sat on his knees infront of her. 

“Well fuck them,” he tilted her chin up.

“So what if you’re not tiny? You are still stronger than hell, you have such an amazing body, I mean you have the prettiest thighs i’ve ever seen, you have a nice rack and you have the best stomach,” Bucky smiled at her. She shook her head and wound her arms around yourself. 

“You are fucking beautiful, every inch of you.  Your acne, your stretch marks, your freckles, everything you hate about yourself I find, and this is going to make me sound gross but I find it sexy Y/n.  You’re not going to be everybodys type but sure as shit you’re mine” Y/n bit back the smile that was threatening to break through.

“Even my tummy?” she tried, playful

“Especially your tummy, you kidding?” he grinned and pushed her hair back, holding her cheek. “You are beautiful,” he spoke, barely above a whisper before connecting their lips. Y/n froze at first, unsure of if he was sincere or messing with her. He pulled away

“I’m sorry I should have asked,” he stammered and started to move away.

“No, I liked it” Y/n nodded and kissed him. 

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n

[luvelyhs]

if i could go back

i’ve been telling you guys i am incapable of writing anything without angst so... enjoy 

Pairing: Y/N and Harry 

Warnings: angst lol, happy ending tho

Summary: Y/N caught feelings for Harry, who was already in love with someone else.

~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N groaned at the blaring sound of an alarm, reaching over towards her nightstand to grab her phone. In the process, a body shifted beside her and she realized she wasn’t alone. Sitting up, she looked at the person next to her and the memories from last night seemed to drown her. 

“Mm, hello?” Harry’s deep morning voice grumbled to the caller who dared wake him up on a Saturday morning. Y/N grabbed the covers and wrapped it around her to cover her nakedness, and she felt a little embarrassed.

Y/N couldn’t wrap her head around the fact she actually slept with one of her good friends. She was always adamant of never crossing that line with him, but somehow it happened and she basked in the memories of last night. He was so sweet and good to her, like how she imagined he would be, and honestly her imagination didn’t do him justice. 

“You okay?” Harry’s voice turned concerned and Y/N tilted her head slightly in curiosity of who was calling Harry at--she tapped her phone screen and it lit up bright in front of her--nine in the morning. 

“Don’t cry, baby, don’t cry. I’ll come over now, yeah? You’ll be okay.” The words rushed out of Harry and before you had a chance to process it, Harry was turning to you.

“Hey, Y/N, there’s an emergency.. I think you should go.” Y/N blinked in confusion, this was not how she was expecting things to go when she woke up.

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, it’s just Daisy. Her boyfriend just broke up with her and she needs me right now.” Of course it was Daisy, and as long as she was in the picture, Y/N would never mean anything more than a friend to him. That’s been how it was for as long as she knew him. He was wrapped tightly around Daisy’s finger. She couldn’t help but feel jealous of her, Harry was so in love with her but she just wouldn’t see it. If only Harry felt like that around her, Y/N thought.

“But.. last night?” He looked down at her beside him, pity gracing his features.

“It meant nothing.” Y/N sighed, embarrassed and full of shame. She shouldn’t have done this. 

“I’m sorry..” Harry reached out to grab her hand as she gathered her dignity and got of his bed, grabbing her items and stepping into her clothes. 

“Save it, Harry. I can’t believe after everything she’s put you through you’d still walk through hell for her. You’re only hurting yourself, I hope one day you’ll see that. But I won’t stand by you through it.” 

She raced out of Harry’s bedroom, Harry following behind her trying to explain himself, but Y/N wasn’t having any of it, not when Daisy still had his heart.

“Call me when you get your shit together.” She turned towards him one last time, regarding him with a look that was full of anger and heartbreak.

“Don’t do this, Y/N. Please..” Harry was torn between saving his friendship with Y/N and going to see the girl he was in love with, but he didn’t need to decide because Y/N decided for him.

Y/N exited his front door, and in that moment they didn’t know it would hurt them more than they expected it to.

~~~

A few months passed, Harry tried every possible way to get Y/N to talk to him, but she wouldn’t have it, not when he was still under Daisy’s influence and being stupid. She cut off most contact with Harry’s friends, only because she didn’t want to break and ask how he was doing. She already got enough of it through social media. 

Y/N was a stylist, and she worked herself up, booking celebrity clients left and right and eventually became good friends with a few of them. She liked her new life without Harry in it, but that’s the thing. She didn’t love it, she missed him deeply, but she wouldn’t succumb to his charms. She still had that one night burned into the back of her mind.

“Are you going to Max’s party tonight?” Y/N turned to her assistant, Emily.

“I’m not sure, I’ll probably just leave after I get him ready.” Max Graham was a good friend and client, he was a big producer and would occasionally host big parties. She rarely attends, even though he always begs her to stay and mingle. She just doesn’t want to risk seeing him again.

“Why don’t you stay? I heard some big celebs are gonna be there. Maybe you can book Rihanna or Ariana Grande.” 

“You already know Grande’s stylist is my friend, I’m not stealing her away. Although, the thought is tempting..” Emily giggled at her boss and continued putting together some outfits on her iPad.

“Just stay this time please! If you get bored I’ll leave with you and order you some take out.” Y/N thought about it, he most likely won’t be there, he never used to attend these parties. She thought one night wouldn’t hurt. Also, why was she letting him still have control over her life? She could go to a party that she wants to go to, whether he was going to be there or not. It was her life, her choice.

“Fine, but you’re treating for lunch on Monday.” Emily rolls her eyes but nods anyway, excited her boss was finally going to enjoy herself at a party.

~~~

“Y/N, my darling angel!” Y/N giggled at her friend and client and bowed down exaggeratedly. 

“Hello, good sir. I come bearing gifts.” Y/N stepped aside and the clothing racks full of designer clothes held in plastic coverings was pushed in.

“What look are you going for today, Max?” She came up behind him and rested her hands on his shoulders, holding his stare in the opulent mirror in front of them.

“Surprise me.” He boldly said, a sly smile on his lips. 

Y/N was excited. She loved dressing people up, she’s always had a knack for fashion and it was great that she enjoyed it as well. 

“Emily!” Y/N called, needing the help of her assistant. 

“Could you grab that new belt, I think it’s in the trunk.” She asked her while unzipping the bags she knew would look super well on Max. 

“Yup, be right back.” Emily walked away and Y/N held the two articles of clothing together, trying to picture it on her client and she shook her head, discarding the top she picked and plucked another from the rack. 

“Aha..” She whispered, grinning in excitement. 

“I have found the perfect outfit for you. You will love it!” 

Max turned around to grin at her, he loved the outfits Y/N dressed him up in. He was truly fond of his stylist, she was so caring and he knew she had been hurt in the past. He could tell from the way her eyes dimmed sometimes, looking to be in another world with a frown on her face.

He wanted her to have fun, and if there was one thing about Max’s grand parties, it was that you had fun. He prided himself on ordering the best hor’dourves for his guests and the best djs.

“I hope you’re coming tonight?” He basically pleaded with her, giving her his puppy dog eyes. She always said no, though. She didn’t like going to big parties, but he didn’t know why. 

He was prepared for her to decline his invitation, but Emily approached and answered for her.

“I got her to come tonight, you can thank me now, by the way.” She grinned at both Max and Y/N, and all Y/N did was roll her eyes at her perky assistant.

Max gasped over dramatically, turning his head to face Y/N.

“I’ve got a ton of people to introduce to you, my dear. Prepare yourself.”

Y/N laughed at her friend’s dramatic antics and switched the topic to the matter at hand.

“Alright.. I was thinking some stripes.”

~~~

Y/N decided to head back to her apartment really quick to change and get dolled up. She wanted to look good, not for anybody but herself. It’s been a while since she went to a party... the last time was definitely pre-Harry.

She swung by Emily’s apartment to pick her up, before heading to Max’s. His mansion was lit up with pretty colorful lights and multiple cars parked in his long round driveway. She and Emily greeted the valet and prepped herself mentally before heading inside.

She’s gotta give it to Max, this looked like a great party. Everyone was mingling and the atmosphere was nice, she decided she would have a good time, even if she had to force herself.

She caught the eye of the host and he quickly went up to her and greeted her with two cheek kisses and she praised his outfit.

“You look amazing, your outfit is to die for, who’s your stylist?” Max rolled his eyes at Y/N’s teasing and pulled Y/N and Emily along with him. He was giddy she finally made it and he wanted to show her off to a few major celebrities he had invited.

“Darlings, you both look absolutely stunning.” Max complimented them both and Y/N blushed, looking down at the short dress she wore. The little black dress with glitter sparkled under the twinkling lights above her. She hadn’t dressed like this in a few months and she missed it.

Max guided them to a few celebs, even getting to meet the Jonas Brothers who she was a big fan of when she was younger. She mingled with them and got into a deep conversation with Zendaya. She laughed and drank and danced, it was overall a fun time.

Until Max led her to a familiar figure. His back was turned to her in an all cream suit. She spotted Jeff first in front of him, who had a full view of the incoming people. She watched as his eyes saw her and they widened, pausing mid speech which made Harry confused.

Y/N wanted to run, she wanted to leave and forget she had ever saw him here. What the hell was he doing here in the first place?! The one time she had decided to have a good night and have fun he had to be there to ruin it.

Max held her hand and pulled her along as her feet reluctantly took the steps to their destination. Her mind was blank but then he turned around, and it was like everything she tried to repress came out again.

The feelings- the hurt, the pain, and the love? He was surprised to see her, that she could tell. His hand reached out to her and she watched as he pulled it back.

“Gentlemen! I’d like you to meet my beautiful and amazing stylist, Y/N Y/L/N!”

Silence. Jeff was the first to break it.

“Hi, Y/N. You look great! How are you?” He leaned forward to hug her and she reluctantly hugged him back.

“Jeff, hi. Yeah, I’ve been good, how are you? How’s Glenne?” They pulled back and Max clapped.

“You already know each other? Perfect! Y/N, do you know Harry?” She blanched, she hadn’t meant to, she just wasn’t ready to confront her feelings with Harry. She thought she could get away with never seeing him again but she should’ve known that in this industry, probably not.

“Yeah, uh, we met a year ago. Hi, love.” Then Harry had to give her that smile, that damn pantydropping smile. That damn handsome smile that made his eyes sparkle.

“Harry.” It was a whispered breath, taking him in. She missed him. They were friends, very good friends, before she caught feelings. And she missed him and their times together. But then the thought bulldozed into her mind. The reason she left him and everything about him behind- Daisy.

She assumed she was still in his life. And as long she was there, Y/N wouldn’t be.

The thought made her turn cold and rigid.

“Nice to see you again.” She smiled politely, turning her head to Max and seeing Emily wave to her to come in the background.

“Emily’s calling me over, bye guys.” She did a little wave and hurriedly walked over to Emily. She passed by Jay-Z and Travis Scott and she couldn’t believe she was in the presence of some big names.

“Girl, I just met Beyoncé. I died inside!” Y/N laughed at her assistant and they walked together to the bar.

“Should I introduce myself to Shawn Mendes?” Emily was a fan of him, and they were the same age so Y/N told her to go for it. But in all honesty she didn’t want to be left alone. Not while he was in the vicinity.

They grabbed their drinks and Y/N played with her straw while she watched Emily strut over to Shawn. Emily flipped her hair and turned her head back to look at Y/N, where she just gave her a thumbs up and a wink.

She took a deep breath in and let it out, shrieking and jumping a little in shock when the man she was hoping to avoid appeared beside her.

“Shit! You scared the shit out of me.” She clutched her chest and tried to calm herself from the fright.

“What are you doing here?” She mumbled, when she was around him now her confidence dropped and she became a nervous mess. She hated that. She hated he had so much control over her still.

“I miss you.” It was a simple statement, but her heart fluttered when he uttered those words.

Y/N looked away.

When enough seconds passed and Harry knew he wouldn’t be getting any response to what he said, he took a different approach.

“Dance with me.” Y/N laughed, startled by his request.

“Huh?” She was confused, they hadn’t talked in months and the first thing he wants to do was tell her he misses her and to dance with him.

“I’m not doing that.” She was being cold and callous but that’s how she did things. This was how she hid and masked the hurt. It was better that way, she thought.

“Y/N..” He uttered her name, she missed it. She missed him so much. But it also made her angry. If he wasn’t so far up Daisy’s ass, maybe they could’ve still been friends. Maybe they could’ve been something more. But Y/N was naive to think that they could’ve been. He wasn’t obligated to love her just because she loved him, no, it was her own fault for falling in love with her friend who was already in love with someone else.

“You can’t just do this, Harry! I cut off contact with you for a fucking reason. Can’t you take a hint?” He seemed hurt by her words, and she wanted to apologize but the words died in her throat.

“Just a conversation, lovie. Just tell me how you are.” She scoffed before thinking about it. He could tell she was weighing her options and the pros and cons so he decided to help a little.

“After, you can decide if you never wanna talk to me again. I’ll never bother you again, never contact you. You’ll be free of me.” That caught Y/N’s attention. That’s what she wanted, right?

“Alright..” He softly smiled at her before guiding her away from the loudness of the party.

“I’m so, so proud of you, lovie. You’ve made a name for yourself. I’ve heard people rave about you. Made me jealous how they got to see you and spend time with you and I didn’t.”

Y/N sighed. “Distancing myself from you was the only way I could cope. Truth be told, Harry, I really liked you. I mean.. it must’ve been obvious that morning. Seeing you hooked on Daisy just hurt me a little. It’s okay now, though.”

He stopped walking, turning to fully face Y/N. There was a light glow from the tennis court lights but otherwise they were wrapped in darkness.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t see it sooner. I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize your feelings, and I’m so sorry for making you feel like shit that morning. If I could redo that morning, I would’ve ignored the call, no, no. I would’ve answered and told her to fuck off, I would’ve woken you up with so many kisses all over your face and body. We would’ve made love that morning and I would’ve confessed my feelings, and all this pain and hurt could’ve been avoided. But that didn’t happen, and all I could say now is that I love you. And if you’ll give me another chance, I swear I’d never hurt you again.”

Y/N inhaled deeply at his confession. It was full of conviction and truth. Her eyes welled up and she couldn’t stop yourself from full on sobbing.

“Oh baby, no, don’t cry!” He wrapped his arms around her, which made her cry just a little harder.

Harry thought he was too late, thought he made her so sad with his words that she would never want anything to do with him anymore, and that broke his heart into pieces.

“God, I just- I just never thought I’d ever hear those words.” She giggled while crying.

When Y/N had left that morning, he was hurt, but he had to see Daisy. He had went to her house, and he had convinced himself that he loved her. When she opened the door, her boyfriend was wrapped around her, and she dismissed Harry rudely. And then Harry thought long and hard. He had Y/N, the sweetest most caring girl, and he had chose Daisy over her? The one who had always used Harry as her backup when her boyfriend would grow tired of her. Y/N had always been there for Harry, had been there to hold his hand when the going got tough. He went home to wallow in his thoughts and really only fully came to his senses when Gemma whacked some sense into his brain. He realized he didn’t deserve Y/N, but it didn’t stop Harry from trying to contact her. She ignored every call, every text, and then eventually blocked his number. He’s ask his friends how she was and they’d say she was doing good, gave some vague details about her life but that was it. He missed her so fucking much and now that she was in front of him, he would never let her go.

“These are happy tears. Do you, do you mean it?” Harry was carefully wiping the tears streaming down her face, leaning forward to press his lips to her cute nose.

“Of course, I meant every word. I love you so much and I hate that it took me so long to see it.” He wrapped his arms around Y/N and she hesitantly hugged him back and instantly sighed in relief. How she missed this.

“I love you too.” She smiled and initiated the kiss between them, the first kiss since that night. It was passionate, they kissed deeply and smiled happily into the kiss. Y/N pulled back a bit but Harry followed, pressing multiple kisses to her lips. She laughed and swatted him away.

“Wait.. that was the cutest thing ever!” She heard her friend’s voice and the sound of someone being hit, followed by a groan and a whine. Harry and Y/N both looked at the two people hiding behind a rose bush.

“Really?” Y/N groaned, embarrassed of her friends spying on their intimate and personal conversation.

They popped out, both appearing drunk as hell. Harry laughed at their appearances and wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist, while Y/N tucked her head into his chest.

“Can y’all make some babies? They would look so adorable!!”

“Max!” Y/N scolded, cheeks heating up at his words.

“I’m down if you are?” Harry suggested, winking down at her. She rolled her eyes at her man, pulling him down for a deep kiss, her friends cheering her on in the background.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines #boyfriend harry styles #one direction one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles happy ending

[kurohoely]

always (daichi x y/n)

part 3

genre: exes to lovers, slow burn(?) idk how genre works, sfw, daichi!timeskip

cw: sexual harassment wc: 2.2k

a/n: it pains me this part so much :') but i realli like how i wrote this part hehe i hope you do too!! enjoy :D likes and reblogs are highly appreciated :))

part one , part two, part three

Not once you had the heart to block his number, even after you blocked him from all of your social media. You hoped that by leaving this one door open, he will find a way to come back to you, or at least reach out to you again. Your legs were exerting heat, pumping your muscles to make you walk faster so that you can reach your home as soon as possible. With the constant gasping for air, vibrating through your body, you didn’t realize the faint vibration of your phone, lighting up with a notification from daichi <3. Grabbing your keys from your bag, unlocking the door while kicking your sandals off from your feet. You opened your sliding door, letting the spring breeze fill up your atmosphere. What a nice way to cool down your body. You dug your hands into your bag, fumbling to find your phone. Unconsciously, you unlocked your phone without seeing the notifications that popped up, skimming through your apps, and seeing whatever apps had the number badge on them. The last app you scrolled to was your messages. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the number one on the top corner of the icon. You pressed it, heart pounding, excreting cold sweats from your fingers. There, you saw his message.

“It was nice seeing you at our shop. If you’re free tomorrow, can we catch dinner together?”

Einstein is right, time and space are gravity because you can feel your insides starting to churned then float away, as your time stopped and your spatial awareness came to halt as well. It was as if the universe let this moment freeze for you, to take in whatever you are seeing and experiencing right now. You should’ve listened to what your mind and friends said back then, block him everywhere. Don’t leave a hole for him to come into your life again. You know this is going to hurt either way but you want to be done with it once and for all. You both need proper closure, and not some petty teenager’s love quarrel.

“You too. I’m free tomorrow”

“Great, see you at our shop at 8?”

Daichi replied instantly like he was waiting on his phone for your reply. You don’t want to show too much enthusiasm, especially when things are going to end anyway, so you thumbs-upped his last text, letting him know you agree to his suggestion. You wanted to cringe so badly that Daichi kept referring to the coffee shop as our shop but you couldn’t. In fact, you found it very sweet and a bit romantic. You plopped down onto your bed, creating scripts in your head to all the possible scenarios that could happen between the both of you tomorrow, not forgetting to include her. Be strong y/n, you got this. You have to. You gotta move on.

7:30. You slipped the black silk dress that you wore on your first date with Daichi, just so you can rewrite the memories of this dress, removing bits and pieces of him in your life. You tied your hair into a low ponytail and started making your way to the shop. Upon reaching the shop, you were greeted by Daichi’s figure. It made your heart flutter seeing him dressed up so nicely as well. It gave you proof that it wasn’t a one-sided effort to make the date look like a proper one. A date, huh…

You both sat down at a secluded spot so you can have a more private conversation. Things were too uncertain, both of you prepared for the polar opposite of each other’s expectations. Daichi wanted to start over while you wanted to end everything once and for all. You both placed your order, starting off with some small awkward small talk, trying to lighten up the air. While waiting for the food to come, Daichi mustered up all his courage and started the conversation that you both came for.

“Y/n, I know this is going to sound stupid and crazy coming from me, but I couldn’t help it. I want to know, hell, I need to know. It’s been six months since we broke up but have you ever thought of getting back together?”

You gasped at his audacity to ask you that while he was in a relationship. It never crossed your mind how Daichi could stoop any lower but he just proved you wrong right in your face. You straighten your back, eyes looking straight into his eyes, trying to find any guilt within them. None. You could feel his sincerity. What the hell is going on?

“Daichi, if you want me back just because you have no one, I don't want it. What you want is someone that listens to you - a dumb bitch that listens - as to how you said it. I’ve heard enough for today Daichi. I don’t think I could take anything more than this. Focus on your girl. You can be mean towards me but to the very least I don't want you to be a cheater for her. I came here to get some type of closure with you. Seems like I got it now”

Your tongue worked faster than your brain could even process it. Not enough time to even register and consider how Daichi - or at least you - would feel if someone would throw the exact words to you. Before you knew it, your eyes started to pool. You dashed out from the shop before the tears came pouring down in front of Daichi. You left before you could hurt yourself even more. You know you hurt Daichi but it hurts you more than you anticipated. For once, why couldn’t you follow what your heart really wants, what it has yearned for so long, all this time?

You walked through the main street of your house, the same old usual route. The street was pretty bright, given the new street lamps just got placed along the road but being a woman in this god-forsaken world, you can never be too prepared. You placed your thumb on the circle button of the app the whole time. If you suddenly released it and if you didn’t touch the circle within a few seconds, it will automatically call your emergency contacts. Such a smart thing, you thought to yourself but what you failed to notice was a drunk man starting to close his distance, moving towards you.

You were greeted by the sudden jerk on your shoulder. A drunk man putting his hands around your shoulder, started to massage your arms, feeling your flesh through your jacket. You froze and pushed his hands off, bowing to him and saying sorry that you’re in a hurry. He grabbed your wrist with a force that you know will leave blue marks. You were so scared that he would swing his bottle at you if you tried to fight longer. In all of the days, you were always careful. Your frustration with Daichi made you drop your guard slightly and someone took the chance. You repeatedly asked the drunk man to let you go, lying that your husband is around and going to pick up you soon. He inches his face in closer, opening his mouth as if wanting to slobber you whole. You felt disgusted by the strong pungent smell of alcohol and just wished Daichi was here. Wishing you had at least someone to walk you home. Why the world was so cruel to you lately. Why can't you ever feel safe and peacefully enjoy this week?

“Y/N!”

Daichi shoved the man aside, took your hand, and started to run. You followed his steps as best as you could. After Daichi deemed it was safe enough, he stopped. Huff and puffs, hands still interlocked with each other.

“Are you okay!? Thank God I made it in time. Oh my God. I shouldn’t have let you walk alone in the night. Are you hurt anywhere?”

Before you could even answer, tears gushed down your cheeks. You wailed and sobbed your heart out. You placed your head into Daichi’s chest, clasping his shirt to find any form of comfort. Maybe this was something that needed to happen for you to be fully open and vulnerable with Daichi. He hugged you tightly, hushing sweet nothings into your ears. It's not that you were crying about what just happened, it's more like the mere thought of Daichi in that situation makes you cry your heart out. Even when your life was threatened, you still managed to remember Daichi. But is this the right choice? Daichi rubs your shoulders gently.

“Come on, let's get you back home”

He opened your apartment’s door, guiding you to sit down on the couch. He went into your bedroom and wrapped a blanket over your body. He placed the takeouts on the kitchen counter, making his way to make some tea to calm you down. You sit down on the couch, hugging your knees. Daichi plopped down, folded one of his legs, and faced his body to you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face, so grabbed your mug and hugged your fingers around it.

“How come you were there?”

“I chased you after you left. I think we have some misunderstanding so I wanted to go to your house and talk again. I’m so glad that I followed you, even though it was a bit late... I’m sorry”

You finally look at Daichi. Concerned, fear, disappointment painted clearly across his face. Before you could open your mouth, he continued.

“Y/n, I'm not sure why you kept saying ‘her’ and ‘my girl’ repeatedly so I tried to trace back to the first meeting. I saw you in the lobby and by that time, I was with my twin cousin. She just got this job recently and she asked me to come for lunch and show me around. I swear she's family and nothing more.”

How is it that Daichi never fails to see through you, even if it took him a bit of time? You covered your face with your mug. Heat started rising up your cheeks and up to your ears. It's getting really hot and it’s not coming from the blanket. So much for wanting to act like a grown-up and not having some petty love quarrel. You almost ended your only chance of getting back together by some childish assumptions. Oh, how you wish the earth could swallow you whole and never let you out. Daichi tucked your hair back to your ears, gently pulling your hands into his, placing them in between his.

“Hey, was that the reason you left the shop? I’m hurt y/n”

A sprinkle of sarcasm was woven into his words. You know it but you can't help that as if a whole block of weight slipped through your shoulders as you sighed into relief. He squeezed your hands firmer, signaling things are going to get even more serious.

“Y/n, I want you. I still love you. I never stopped loving you. When you left, I couldn't feel anything. I eat and sleep just because I have to. It kept me alive. Remember when we met at our shop? That was the first time I started running again, picking up my routine back. I want our relationship to work. I want us to work.”

“Daichi, I’m scared to start again. I hate that I keep contradicting myself. I don't want anything with you but when I got caught by that man, all I could think was you”

“I know y/n. I’m sorry that you have to go through that but I want to give us another chance if you let me. I know I ended it badly but I feel like I rushed to a decision that I didn't even want. If there's still some love left inside you, please let me in again. Please let me make us work.”

You squeezed Daichi’s hands, finding some strength that you could borrow from him. You pushed his arms and placed them over your shoulders, placing your head against his chest, snuggling soundly in his embrace. You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent, mixed with his musky perfume. The scent of home.

“Okay, Daichi. I want us to start again. I still love you. I will always love you”

He kissed your hairline, pulling your body flushed into his. His hug tightened quickly as if you’re going to go away if he held any looser. You chuckled as you pat his arms, reassuring him that you won't leave him. You straightened up your body and kissed his cheeks. Pink tint painted across Daichi's nose and cheeks.

“Do you wanna stay here for the night? It's already late and it's the weekend tomorrow anyways, if you don't have any work that is”

“I would love to”

Daichi stood up and took your hand, tugging your body towards your bedroom. He laid you down first before he placed himself beside you, draping his arms around your waist, foreheads touching each other. You both looked into each other eyes, finally seeing the love that was long hidden by other emotions.

“Good night Daichi”

You snuggled into his chest, listening to his heartbeat as if it was your lullaby for tonight. He stared at you before he moved his lips to kiss the crown of your head, whispering the words that you longed for.

“Good night sweetheart. I love you. Forever and always”

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x yn #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #hq daichi #hq #hq fluff #exes to lovers #you #hq x reader #daichi sawamura #sawamura daichi #hq x y/n #daichi x y/n #daichi x you #daichi fluff #daichi x reader #jel.tulis #hq x you