#I don't want to keep counting to four every time I go down the stairs to leave my house | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-boy-meets-evil · 5 months

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a new home for the holidays | ljh

(where you can't go home for the holidays and end up having a much better christmas than you expect.)

pairing: jihoon (woozi) x afab!reader genre: acquaintances to lovers, christmas!au | fluff & smut rating: explicit word count: 10.5k warnings: lots of mentions of christmas (including decorating, family, cooking, etc.), if the holidays are too much please skip this, mentions of family issues, reader can't go home for the holidays (and they actually like christmas), no gendered pronouns used for reader, mentions of past death (family member woozi mentions), woozi owns the house where reader rents a room but there are no power dynamics, explicit and implied smut, woozi is kinda grumpy, reader is super bummed about christmas, woozi ends up being a secret softie smut warnings: lots of kissing, thigh riding, nipple play, marking if you squint, slight begging, two ass slaps, oral (reader rec.), fingering (reader receiving), overstimulation, squirting, briefest handjob, unprotected sex (don't do this), implied aftercare, implied morning after sex

author's note: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays and the final prompt is christmas. i don't really have anything to say for myself. this is not what i'm supposed to be writing and it kinda just happened. merry christmas (if you celebrate) and happy holidays. i've already had christmas dinner, so if you see any mistakes, blame it on the drinks.

The holidays are your favorite time of year. Always have been. Nothing has really changed over the years. You moved away for work and fell in love with a new city. Now you just get to have twice the holiday cheer. You decorate your space in the house you live in with friends (and the grumpy house owner who’s resisted most of your attempts to be friends). Then, you go back to visit family when it gets closer to Christmas. It’s been a really great system. You’re just as excited this year as every other year.

Until your plans change. It’s only the day before you’re supposed to fly back home when your dad calls to let you know that he and your mom are sick. They know that you have a lot of post-Christmas plans (New Years, school work, and even a trip) and they don’t want to risk getting you sick as well. They insist that you can still come back, if you want, but warn you that they’ll have to keep their distance. You spend a lot of time thinking about it (read: talk it over exhaustively with your closest friends) before deciding that you’re just going to stay put for the holidays. You can plan another time to catch up with your family and have a time-shifted Christmas. After all, you think of the holidays as more of a feeling than a specific date on the calendar. You can find something to keep you busy for the 25th.

A couple of your friends invite you to come and spend Christmas Eve or Christmas Day with them, but you decline. You appreciate the sentiment, and really consider it in at least one case, but it just doesn’t feel right. Your family has so many traditions that it feels weird to consider dropping in on someone else’s. Besides, you won’t be alone in the house. (Even if Jihoon, who owns the house and rents out rooms, isn't always the friendliest. And doesn’t seem to enjoy Christmas at all.)

It’s four days before Christmas. You’re sitting in the living room aimlessly scrolling through your phone while you wait for Jun and Minghao to come downstairs. The three of you were all supposed to be heading to the airport together today, but now you’re just going to be driving them so they don’t have to pay for a ride. A sound makes you look up before you realize it’s not nearly enough noise for Jun, who can’t seem to go anywhere without being too loud. Instead, Jihoon only nods at you before he settles into an armchair on the other side of the room with a book. After a few minutes, you hear the telltale giggles of one of your best friends as he rushes down the stairs. Jun is through the door first, followed by an exasperated Minghao. Nevertheless, you see the signs he’s trying to fight his smile. You stand to meet them at the doorway.

“Bestie,” Jun signsongs when he reaches you. Throws his arms around you for good measure. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Jun, for the last time, we were supposed to leave for the airport 45 minutes ago,” Minghao sighs. “There wouldn’t be time to pack.”

“Details, we’ve got plenty of time,” Jun waves off.

“And last minute plane tickets are insane,” Minghao adds.

“Less insane with a travel credit,” Jun supplies, undeterred.

“Jun, please, we really need to leave,” Minghao begs.

“Are you not going home?” Jihoon asks. He’s so quiet when he moves that you didn’t even hear him stand up to join your group.

“Oh, no, I guess I forgot to let you know,” you start. You didn’t. Jihoon scares you a little. He’s nice enough and he’s great as a landlord, if you can even call him that, but you’re not really friends.

“You don’t have to let me know,” he huffs out.

“I decided not to go home this year. Both my parents are sick and I don’t want to catch it too, so we’re timeshifting the holidays,” you say.

“So it’s just you two in the house for Christmas,” Jun says brightly as he throws an arm around Jihoon. “Take good care of my bestie, okay?”

“It’s fine, Jihoon, I’m not expecting you to do anything with me,” you say before he can even open his mouth.

“But…” Jun starts and you turn him around before he can finish.

“Come on, before we give Hao an aneurysm. Do you need help getting your stuff outside?” you ask.

“Bless you,” Minghao mutters as you’re wrangling your best friend out of the house.

Once you’re back at the house, all you want to do is lay in your bed. It was a lot of work to pretend everything was fine while taking Jun and Minghao to the airport. Traffic was bad getting back, so you didn’t really have it in you to break down. Now that you’re home and in your room, the tears don’t come. It’s not who you are. It sucks that you’re not going home for the holidays, but it’s still the holidays and you can still make the most of it. Maybe. Somehow.

Somewhere in the house, you hear a door close loudly. Probably just Jihoon since everyone else has left. For a moment, you consider going downstairs to see what he’s up to. But, again, you’re not really friends. Moving seems like too much effort, anyway. You flop back onto your bed and get comfortable. Wait until you’re hungry to actually leave your room to find something to eat. You’re probably going to need more groceries before Christmas, because you still want to make some of your favorites, but you probably have enough for something to eat tonight. When you walk into the kitchen, you smell something delicious. There’s a big pot on the stove with the burner on beneath it.

You’re just about to lift the lid when Jihoon comes back into the kitchen. “Leave it.”

“Oh, sorry!” you gasp, surprised by his appearance and unsure of the tone.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. “I just don’t wanna fuck it up.”

“That’s a big pot of soup,” you say.

“Yeah, I figured you might be hungry,” he says, like it’s the most logical thing in the world.

“Oh!” you say.

“I mean, I don’t know if you like Chicken Ramen soup, it’s a little spicy, but I like it around this time of year,” Jihoon says. He looks a bit awkward and unsure.

“That sounds really nice, actually,” you admit. “You don’t mind sharing?”

“No, I wanted to share,” he assures you. “It’ll be done soon.”

With a nod, you go to sit down at the kitchen table. The silence isn’t totally comfortable, but it’s not uncomfortable either. Not exactly. This is already shaping up to be the most time you’ve spent alone with him, if you end up eating together. It makes you wonder more about him. He seems really focused as he cleans up around the kitchen. His black hair is the longest you can remember seeing it, falling around his face as he leans over. It’s almost soft to watch him brush it out of his face.

As you’re sitting there waiting for the soup to finish, you realize that you don’t know much about him at all. Even though you’ve lived in this house almost two years, he’s still very much a mystery. You know that the house has been in the family for a long time and he was the only one who was willing to take the project of managing it on. Or that’s what you think he said once. Someone, maybe a cousin or friend or something, thought he was a bit crazy for renting rooms out like this. But, it’s a massive house and he’s single. (There are 6 bedrooms, all with attached bathrooms, multiple living rooms, and an office that he uses for himself. The house is paid off so the rent goes towards things like property taxes, maintenance plans, and anything else that comes up.) You know he also produces music, though you’ve never heard any of it. Not that anyone has, he’s very private and doesn’t even share what name he produces under.

It’s clear when he brings each of you a bowl of soup that he’s expecting the food to do the talking for him. It’s cute and also puzzling at the same time. How does someone who wants to speak through something like making soup have a successful career as a producer? You shake the thought away and make conversation yourself. Most of what you get are short answers, but it’s something. And you definitely learn more about him. He deflects a little when you ask about his family, prefers to turn it around so you can talk about yours. Which you don’t really mind, even if it’s a little sad to think you won’t get to see them.

“Hey, I was thinking I might go and see about getting more decorations for the house tomorrow. Is that okay?” you ask when you’re finished eating.

“You really like Christmas, don’t you?”

It’s not really an answer, which makes you look up to find something of a smile on his face. Maybe a little teasing behind the smile. “Yeah, I just really like the joy of it all.”

“I don’t mind. There also might be some stuff in the attic that I can pull out,” he says as he stands to clear the dishes.

“That would be better than braving the crazies,” you say.

“Come on, I’ll show you how to get up there,” he says. Doesn’t even check if you’re following him before leaving the kitchen.

You scramble to your feet to catch up to him. Truthfully, you didn’t even know the house had an attic. It isn’t surprising. It’s an old house, but still. This is just another small thing that you feel like helps you better unwrap the mystery of Lee Jihoon. Upstairs, he opens the closet and pulls out a hook to unlatch a door in the ceiling just outside of Minghao’s room. Huh. You’ve never even noticed it, not that you’re outside this room often. To your further surprise, Jihoon flicks on a switch and then climbs up the ladder into the attic. Once again, you follow close behind him.

There are a lot of boxes in the attic, mostly labeled with names or rooms or both. You figure they probably belong to relatives. Or maybe past renters. In any case, it seems best to not bother asking. Especially since he’s making a beeline to one corner. You fight the urge to laugh. So much for thinking there were decorations up here. By the way he walks, you can tell he knows exactly where they are. It’s worth it, though, because there are about a dozen boxes with garlands, ornaments, wreaths, and other various knickknacks. Jihoon asks which of the boxes you might want and sighs when you say you want to bring them all down. Doesn’t argue, though, just tells you how to help him get them down. Even helps you get some of them downstairs.

“Guess we might need a tree,” he sighs when you get the last box out of the attic.

“Oh, I can find a fake one at the store or something. It’s no big deal,” you mumble out.

“I have to take care of something in the morning, then we can go pick one out,” he says without looking at you.

“Really?” It comes out nearly as a squeak.

He rolls his eyes, which might discourage you if you hadn’t also caught the faintest smile. “Yeah, we might as well with all this stuff out of the attic.”

You distinctly hear him mumbling something about the damn Christmas spirit as he walks away, leaving you to happily sort through boxes. Hope can be dangerous, especially around the holidays when your plans are interrupted. But, you can’t help it. You feel a little spark of hope.

The house is quiet when you wake up. It’s hard to tell if Jihoon is around or not until you peek out into where you all park to see that his truck is missing. When you first met him, the truck surprised you. It’s not really flashy, or even new, for that matter, just an old, vintage Chevy that’s in completely perfect condition. It’s probably older than either of you, but you’d never know by how it looks. The more you get to know this man, the more the truck makes sense.

With the house empty, you can listen to music as loud as you want. You connect your phone to the speaker and Christmas music carries throughout the house in moments. Coffee in hand, you set out to get some of the decorations up while it’s just you. But, even with the music and the decorations, you’re feeling a little empty again. It’s not the same to be doing this all by yourself. You know, at least on some level, that you’re not totally alone. There’s also Jihoon and he isn’t going anywhere for the holidays. But, he obviously doesn’t like Christmas much if the lack of decorations or tree are anything to go by. Maybe you’re just a burden on him too.

Your phone dings and you look around for a minute before you find it on the table. The surprise of who’s texting you makes you unlock your phone right away.

Jihoon: Finished early and actually found a tree that works when I was driving home Jihoon: I hope that’s okay. I didn’t want it to be gone

There’s no explanation for the tears you’re blinking away. It’s not about picking out the tree. That part of Christmas hasn’t ever been an important part to you. Ever since you moved away, your parents got one before you flew in anyway. No, it’s more to do with the little you know about Jihoon and that truck. It’s almost like his child. He’s so careful about it. Somehow, Jun has managed to at least get to the point of being friends with him. Then again, Jun can wear anyone down. But, through Jun, you know how particular Jihoon can be about his truck. You distinctly remember Jun saying he wasn’t allowed to eat or drink in it (not that unusual) and that he had to brush off his shoes before getting in to avoid the dirt (a lot more unusual, especially someplace it snows). It probably doesn’t mean anything. It’s probably just your emotions about the change of holiday plans taking over. But, you’re overwhelmed that he’d pick up a tree and use his own truck.

You: oh, yeah! thanks! You: let me know you’re here and i’ll come help

The tree that Jihoon shows up with is completely perfect. Even still wrapped, you can tell that it’s going to be full. And that you’re going to have to work a little harder to get the branches to fall by Christmas. Not only did Jihoon use his truck to bring a tree back, he also has several bags of stuff, including a tree stand. It makes you wonder what he actually had to do this morning. It isn’t until you have to bring the tree in that you wonder how the hell you’re going to lift it into the house. That is, until Jihoon reaches through the branches and lifts up the tree. You try not to watch the way his muscles tense under his shirt. Fail miserably, actually, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He calls for you from the living room to help him fasten the tree into place. It’s a good thing, too, because you don’t really need to be dwelling on whether the guy who’s basically your landlord is hot or not.

Once the tree is up, he makes an excuse about needing to get some work done and disappears off to his studio. It had actually been really fun, even if it was short, to have Jihoon around and sharing in the space. It feels a little empty again. But, there’s still plenty of decorating to do. So you get to work. You’re hoping that somewhere in the process of decorating, it’ll start to feel a little more like Christmas. You consider calling Jun to answer his texts. Unfortunately, he knows your tones of voice better than you do. There’s no way you’ll be able to hide being sad. You can just fire off a couple quick texts to tell him about the tree and about how you’re decorating now.

An hour later, you’re kind of ready to give up. It’s just not going to feel like Christmas. Not when the joy and the sense of togetherness are missing. The second that you hear footsteps on the stairs, you wipe your eyes. The last thing you want is for Jihoon to see you crying. If he can tell, he doesn’t comment. Doesn’t say anything, actually. Just puts two bags down and starts sorting through ornaments, both old and clearly new. It’s the smallest gesture, yet you don’t feel so alone anymore.

“Do you want to listen to some music?” he finally asks to break the silence.

“Yeah, I can get a playlist,” you answer and reach for your phone.

“I have some, too. I’m not heartless,” he says with a chuckle.

“I never said…” you start, only to stop when he rests a hand on your arm.

“I was joking,” he says.

You’re not trying to be nosy, but you see him scroll through a few playlists while he’s looking for holiday music. “What were those?”

Jihoon looks up at you, confused, before looking back down at his phone. “Oh, nothing. Just stuff I’m working on.”

“I’d love to hear that,” you admit.

“What? The stuff that’s not done?” he asks, abandoning his search for a playlist.

“Well, yeah, but I meant the stuff you have finished,” you say.

“Oh, um, I don’t usually share that. I like to keep that separate,” he says awkwardly.

“It’s fine, I totally get it,” you say, brushing off any disappointment, and return to your focus on sorting through ornaments.

“Fuck it, sure. I’ll let you listen to some,” he says. Your head whips up with a beaming smile. And you have no way of knowing that it makes his heart stutter.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah, but if you hate them, don’t tell me,” he warns.

You hold out your pinky as a promise. Jihoon grumbles under his breath for a second before linking his pinky through yours as a promise. He scrolls back to one of the earlier playlists, keeps the name hidden from you, and hits play. The first song immediately puts you in a good mood. It’s upbeat and happy, full of good life advice. Just the type of thing you need right now. One song flows into the next and you’re smiling without even realizing it, singing along to songs that you can’t believe you know. Can’t believe this quiet man has so much talent. Can’t believe he works on such popular songs and still lives a simple life in a shared house with roommates that are way too loud.

It’s him that starts the conversation up again, seemingly unable to stop himself from asking for your thoughts. It’s the most animated you’ve ever seen him, asking for your opinions and talking about his process. The more you listen, the more he seems to have to say. At times, you’re not even sure that you hear what he’s saying. This animated side to him has you so entranced that you think you’d do anything to keep him speaking. Keep him smiling like this.

The house feels a lot warmer now that you’re decorating together and talking about anything under the sun. Talking about music seems to have opened him up to talking about a lot of things. About his interests, books he’s reading, games he likes to play. You find there are actually a lot of those things that you have in common. You have similar taste in books and in games, even offer to lend some books to him. He makes you promise that it’ll be an even trade so that he feels better about it.

When dinner time comes around, he suggests ordering delivery. You agree, but only on the condition that you can figure out a Christmas menu over dinner. That signature sigh and eye roll make another appearance, like he’s so exasperated by the process. It’s less effective now that you’re starting to know him better. A part of you thinks that it might even be an action reserved for people he cares about, even if that care is only small. But, you’re starting to learn how to play the game too. You pout at him and make your eyes as big as you can when you ask the second time. Before you can ask the third time, he relents and agrees.

With your favorite food spread out in front of you, from a place he’s somehow never tried, you start to make a list of your favorite Christmas dishes. Thankfully, some of your favorite things seem to line up and otherwise, Jihoon doesn’t really mind what you have. Once, he reminds you that there are only two of you, so you don’t need to go overboard. You’re quick to point out that leftovers are great and that your housemates come back shortly after Christmas. Again, he finds himself giving in to what you want.

You’re watching him clean up the boxes and considering your next question. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” he points out, back still to you.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick.”

“Now is that any way to speak to your landlord?” he teases, finally turning around.

“That’s actually what I wanted to ask you,” you say.

“If you can call me a dick?” he wonders and you laugh.

“No,” you manage. “No. I wanted to know…well, you’re obviously successful. Why live in a house with so many loud housemates?”

Jihoon looks thoughtful for a moment, turns around to continue throwing things out. You think he’s not going to answer when he comes to sit down across from you again. “I like the chaos. It's good for me. I don’t just mean because it inspires me. It does. But, it’s also good. I get a little in my head, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t always have the easiest time getting out. There’s always someone around here.”

“You secretly like us,” you coo because you’re not sure what else to say.

“I regret telling you,” he says and huffs.

“I’m kidding, Ji. I really like living here, even if you scared me at first. It feels like a weird, dysfunctional family,” you say.

“Do I still?” he asks, oddly serious.

“What? Scare me?”

“Yeah.”

“No, you don’t. I think you’re actually a lot softer than you want us to realize,” you say and watch his face. “Don’t worry, Ji, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Is that nickname going to stick?” he wonders.

“That depends. Do you like it?”

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“Of course it would.”

He looks away and clears his throat. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was a little shy or embarrassed. “I do like it.”

“I’ll be sure to use it a lot, then,” you say. More tease, really. You’re curious to see how he reacts and you’re not disappointed. There’s a slight blush to his cheeks. If you could see his ears through his hair, you think those would be tinged red as well.

It takes him a minute to regain his composure. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re exhausting?”

“How do you think I manage to keep up with Jun?” you fire back.

“He adores you, you know,” Jihoon says and it’s the softest you’ve seen him while talking about another person.

“I’m glad because I adore him, too,” you say without even thinking about it. “Although, sometimes he acts like the brother I definitely never wanted.”

Jihoon actually laughs at that, a real laugh, and the sound is so pretty. “The brother you never wanted. How does he feel about that?”

“Fine because I also tell him that sometimes he’s the brother I did want. So it evens out,” you reason.

“You see him like family?” he asks, an unplaceable emotion on his face.

“Yeah,” you answer immediately.

“Why didn’t you take his offer to go home with him for the holidays?”

That’s not the question you’re expecting. It makes you frown a little. You had forgotten, just for a moment, that this year was different. “Oh, well, I don’t know. Jun is family to me and I do love him like he’s my brother. But, um, I guess it’s that he’s family to me. Not his family. I like them and they’re great, but it would feel like intruding to have accepted. Like I was someone they had to make feel welcome, a guest. Not someone who was actually part of everything.”

“I get that,” he says.

“Why do you stay here on Christmas?” you wonder, venturing further into knowing him.

His shoulders slump a little bit, like he’s not really happy with how this turned either. “I don’t really talk to a lot of my family anymore.”

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t…” you start and he waves you off.

“No, no, it’s fine. You asked me about being successful and still living here with housemates. I told you most of the story, but not all of it,” he admits.

Without thinking about it, you get up from your chair to sit beside him. Put your hand on his arm to let him know that he doesn’t have to share this part of himself if he doesn’t want to or if he’s not ready. But, he insists he wants to share it with you now that you’ve also heard some of his music. His grandfather owned his house and got it from his grandfather before him. Jihoon had always been close to his grandparents. He was the only grandkid to come around and help them with things. His grandmother would try to teach him how to cook, even though he was never very good. She also taught him all sorts of games, that’s where he got a lot of that from. His grandfather taught him how to fix a car himself, how to fix things around the house, just how to be able to rely on yourself. They were the first ones that he told about wanting to make music and the first to encourage him even when the rest of the family thought it was stupid. They were the first ones to find out he’d gotten his first shot at just seventeen years old. They were the ones who taught him how to be careful with his money, to not blow it all because you never knew when the next shot would come. In the end, it wasn’t even old age that took them. A car accident on a snowy night took his grandmother. He lost his grandfather six months later from a broken heart.

It’s hard to remember that time because they were everything to him. He hadn’t even realized that they had changed their Will. That they had rewritten it to leave everything to him. If he had known, he never would have accepted it. But, there was a letter, too, confirming his grandfather had been of sound mind when they changed it. It went on to say that Jihoon was the only one in the family that came around just because he wanted to. So, he was the only one they felt could care for their legacy after they were gone. Something like that, it brings out the worst in people. Jihoon’s family was no different. First, they all insisted that he should share it, that they were owed part of it by blood. And then, they started to realize that he had his own success already. That he was selling songs and working with more people. They didn’t know who, exactly, because he never told him his pseudonym for producing, but the final letter from his grandfather mentioned how proud they had been. It got even uglier from there. Family members he’d never spoken to came out of the woodwork asking for favors or saying he should help. He had the means to do it, by his own success and the inheritance. In the end, he wound up cutting most of them out unless they were able to understand that they weren’t entitled to something he earned.

“So that’s why I stay here, it’s just easier,” he finishes.

You’re not even sure when you started crying, but you turn away to wipe your eyes. It’s not even your sadness. When you turn back, you find Jihoon looking closed-off. It breaks your heart all over again as you reach out to him. “Nobody should have to deal with that. What they did, what they put you through, it’s awful.”

“We all have history, right?” he asks. “I just don’t like to share it because I don’t want to be questioning if people like me for me or for what I could do for them.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I still see you as a former grumpy cat, secret softie and my…” you start, but trail off, trying to find the right word.

“Landlord?” he suggests through a humorless laugh. It makes your eyes soften at him.

“No, friend,” you decide.

“I just dumped a bunch of trauma on you and you wanna be my friend?” he asks, partly self-deprecating, partly hopeful.

“You don’t seem so bad,” you shrug.

“I guess we’ll see,” he says softly.

The rest of the night is lighter, mostly with you trying to figure out more things he likes as subtly as possible. He laughs when you come downstairs with the presents you’re saving until Christmas to open because he can tell Jun’s right away. You don’t tell him that you’ve already ordered half a dozen small things that’ll be at the house by Christmas Eve so that you can wrap them all up for him. You just want to see his face.

Two days before Christmas, you and Jihoon finish off the decorations and pick up groceries. Well, you’re the one who picks up groceries after insisting on splitting the bill. Jihoon has another mysterious errand that he has to run. Even though you really want to know, you decide to let him have his secrets. At least for now. You’re beginning to understand that he trusts you and he’ll tell you whatever it is when he’s ready, if it even has anything to do with you at all.

When the morning of Christmas Eve dawns, you’re actually excited. The past few days have been a whirlwind, and you’re definitely not done, but the house feels like Christmas. Three days ago you never would have thought Jihoon was enough to bring that holiday joy into the house. Now, you’re so insanely thankful that he’s gone above and beyond. Without anyone else around, or any other distractions, it’s been like a crash course in getting to know each other. There’s so much more to him than you ever realized.

The day passes in a haze of cooking, wrapping last minute presents, and laughter. Lots of laughter. You’ve heard Jihoon laugh more in the last couple days than in the entire time you’ve lived here. Not for the first time, you think it’s a wonderful sound and wish he’d laugh more. It’s easy to understand why he doesn’t, why he’s so guarded, but still. A person can dream.

With all the food prepped and the tree perfectly decorated, you decide it’s time to put your additional presents underneath. Jihoon huffs when you say you just got him a few small things you thought he’d like, before returning with a handful of presents for you. Every fiber of your being wants to give him shit over it. But, it’s Christmas, so you just call a truce instead. And light up like a kid when he suggests starting a fire in the fireplace.

“I’ll go make adult hot cocoa,” you tell him when he starts crumpling up old newspapers for the base of the fire.

“Adult hot cocoa?” he asks, face scrunched up like he’s adorably confused.

“Unless you just want the non-alcoholic version,” you offer.

“I’ll at least try it,” he concedes. His smile is soft when you squeal and run off to the kitchen.

By the time you’ve melted the chocolate (because who uses a premade mix in a kitchen this nice?), Jihoon has the fire going and is sitting on the couch. You’re about to ask why he’s scrolling his phone when he presses a button and Christmas music softly starts playing through the speakers. You hand over his mug and watch as he takes a sip. Even if he tries to hide it, you can tell he loves it and your smile is victorious. Probably why he tries to hide it.

You’re onto your second mug and asking Jihoon to find a blanket so that you can sit on the floor in front of the couch. It’s easier to stretch out closer to the fire. As is his way, he whines about how it’ll be too warm, even though you tell him he doesn’t have to sit with you. Still, he gets the blanket and plops down right next to you, so close that you’re almost touching. It only takes a couple minutes before he’s complaining that it’s really warm and then pulling off his sweatshirt. Your retort dies on your lips when you turn your head to the side and see the way the sweatshirt pulls his t-shirt up on the way. Or how muscular his arms look now that they’re exposed. You’re thankful that you look away before he catches you.

It’s quiet between the two of you as you watch the flames dance in the fireplace. There’s only comfort now, unlike a few days ago. That strikes you. Has it only been a few days since this man was something of a stranger to you? It almost feels like a lifetime ago. When you turn your head to him, you find he’s already looking at you.

“Can I admit something?” you ask.

“Course,” he says softly.

“I’m really glad I decided to stay here for Christmas,” you say, equally softly. You want to take a mental image of the smile that follows.

“Can I admit something, too?” he asks. You only nod. “I’m really glad you did too. This is the best Christmas I’ve had in years and it’s still only Christmas Eve.”

Before you can think better of it, you lean forward and kiss his cheek. Just for a second. Then you drop your head to his shoulder and let out a sigh. It’s the most content you’ve felt in a long time. Jihoon adjusts his arm, and you worry he doesn’t want your head on his shoulder, until he just moves it along the edge of the couch. It lets you lean against him easier, so you scoot a little closer and settle again. After another minute, he rests his head on top of yours. Without even seeming to realize it, his arm curls around your shoulder, holding you tight to him. It makes you acutely aware of his body next to yours. Moments ago, you were thinking that you could fall asleep like this. Now, you’re wide awake.

He must sense some kind of change because he pulls his head up. “Are you okay?”

His voice is so gentle, so full of concern. You wonder how he can sound so calm when your brain is overthinking everything. “Yeah, I just, I don’t know. Being close to you like this is really nice and not at all what I was expecting.”

Jihoon reaches out to tilt your chin up so that he can look you in the eyes. “It doesn’t have to be something you’re not expecting. It is nice to be close to you like this.”

That’s the other thing you can’t really believe has changed so much in a matter of days. This man is a walking contradiction in so many ways. Grumpy as a default, yet so incredibly soft. The most private person you’ve met, yet willing to share why he struggles with Christmas. Rough around the edges, yet also unfailingly kind. Constantly wearing oversized clothes, yet secretly really fit. Okay, maybe that’s not so much a contradiction as you checking him out.

“What if I was open to it being more than just being close?” you venture.

“How much is in your adult hot cocoa?” he asks, with some obvious difficulty.

“Enough to make me a little more honest, maybe, but not even enough to get buzzed on,” you answer.

“Then, I can say if you’re open to more than just being close, I really fucking want to kiss you,” he says. “I have all day.”

“Just all day?” you tease. He gives you an unimpressed look. “What are you waiting for?”

“You to say it’s okay,” he says and leans closer to you.

“It’s okay, Ji,” you whisper, lips already nearly touching.

You’re expecting a soft kiss, are as prepared for that as you can be. And it starts off relatively soft, like he’s testing the waters. It quickly morphs into anything, but soft. It’s the kind of kiss that sets your entire body on fire. The kind of kiss that steals your breath and becomes the only thing you need. It’s steady and desperate, all at the same time. You’re not even sure how your hands find their way into his hair that curls along his neck. It’s even softer than you imagined it would be.

“So, is this your move?” you ask, pulling away just long enough to catch your breath.

“What?” he asks. His lips are already a little swollen.

“Getting the fire going with a little music on in the background,” you tease.

“Trust me,” he begins, punctuating his words with featherlight kisses along your neck. “I’ve never gone to this much trouble for anyone and it definitely wasn’t to get here.”

The confession is so honest. So serious. It’s completely at odds with your teasing. But, should you really expect anything else from Jihoon? He can tease with the best of them, for sure. The last few days he’s also shown that you bring out an honesty that surprises him. You’re not sure if you trust yourself to speak, so you just pull his face up to kiss him again. It’s kind of an uncomfortable position, leaning against the couch, but you’re also not really sure if you care. That is, you’re not sure you care until he turns to pull you into his lap. It’s a little awkward and you have to break the kiss to get settled. Once you’re settled, though, it’s much nicer to be straddled across him like this. Much easier to press your chest into his and keep tangling your fingers in his hair. Much easier for him to wrap his arms around you like he doesn’t want you to go anywhere. You want to tell him that there’s nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

As you kiss him, you let your hands wander down his arms. There’s a safety in being held by him. There’s a strength to him you really never realized, kind of quiet like he is, a little unassuming. The kind of strength that sneaks up on you when you’re not really expecting it. Not only does every part of your body respond to him, but your mind does too. It’s just safe. You’re not sure how you know, you just do. He’s the kind of person that you can really trust to see all of you and still accept you. It’s entirely too much to be feeling about someone this fast, so you push that aside. When you inch your bodies closer together, your core drags across him and sends an ache through you. You do it several more times, back and forth, craving that friction.

“Fuck,” he hisses out.

“I’m sorry, is that too much?” you worry. Suddenly a little self-conscious that there’s been some kind of miscommunication.

He grabs your chin and pulls you back to look into his eyes. “No. It’s never too much. I want whatever you’re willing to give me.”

“But, you don’t know what I’m…” you start. His eyes are serious, intense. You’re burning up and it has nothing to do with the fire.

“Whatever you’re willing to give me, I’ll happily take it. Even if that means it doesn’t go past this,” he reassures you.

“I think I want it all,” you whisper.

“You think you do, or you actually do?” he asks.

You study him for a moment, looking for signs that he’s going to hurry off or something. With one of his hands, he’s tracing patterns against your thigh through the material of your pants. Everything about him seems sincere. Everything seems steady.

“I do.”

It’s a different smile he gives you then, one that says he’s relieved, maybe even a little surprised. One that says he’s genuinely happy. But, most of all, one that says he just wants whatever the night turns into.

“Let’s go upstairs, I don’t want you hurting your knees like this,” he says softly.

You look over your shoulder at the fireplace and he follows your gaze. “We should…”

“I’ll take care of that, just go upstairs. To my room,” he says and you suppress a slight shudder at being told what to do. You kind of like that side of him. “Get comfortable, I’ll just be a minute.”

You get off his lap, quietly thankful for his consideration of your knees and kiss him softly. It’s also easy to see that he’s giving you a little bit of time to be sure. To clear your head away from the tree and the fire and the holiday everything. It’s time you don’t need because you’re definitely sure. The second you step foot through his door, you realize that you’ve never been in his bedroom before. It’s beautifully decorated in a way that screams him. When you sit down on the edge of the bed, you sigh. It’s so comfortable.

This part hasn’t ever been the easiest for you, the waiting for someone to come into the room and knowing what’s going to happen. But, you do know what’s happening and sitting there completely clothed seems silly. In the end, you settle for leaving your sleeveless shirt and underwear on, but taking everything else off, including your bra. You just have time to sit back against the bed when he walks through the door and closes it behind him. Force of habit, you assume, since there isn’t anyone else home. His eyes drink you in, scanning down your body and all your curves. It’s so immediately comfortable that you don’t have the urge to cover back up.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he utters and it makes you blush a little. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Not in a while when I’ve been this undressed,” you answer quietly with your head down.

You feel the bed dip and look up at him, sitting right in front of you. “That’s crazy. You’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever known.”

“You’re so sweet,” you say with a smile.

“It’s what you deserve,” he says and gets back off the bed.

It’s his turn to remove the layers, stopping when all he has are his boxer briefs. You fight back a gasp (and lose, as is evident by his smirk) when he takes off his shirt. What the fuck?

“Jihoon, what the fuck? Come here,” you request. He listens, but takes his time. When he’s within your reach, you run your fingers along his stomach. Trace each ab muscle like you can’t believe this is what’s been under the shirt the whole time.

“I work about a bit,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes.

“A bit, he says,” you tease back.

“Can I get in the bed now? Or do I have to stay here?” he asks.

“You can get in bed, but I want to be in your lap again,” you state.

“Fine by me,” he readily agrees.

There’s a weird sense of time with him. You could kiss him for hours, may just do that. It also feels like it’s only been seconds when you pull back to catch your breath. You delight in the way he hisses when you run your nails down his stomach. Yelp when he smacks your ass in response. But, it doesn’t stop you from doing it again, maybe just so you can get another smack. You tell him not to be too gentle with you and he groans. There’s still that little bit of clothing between you, though, and it’s hard to get the friction you need.

It’s like he senses what you want, or maybe what you need, and he positions you over one of his thighs. Helps you move back and forth to find a rhythm. It gives you that friction that you’ve been craving. He peppers kisses all over, trying to find the places that you like. Lingers wherever gets the best noises out of you. All while you grind against his thigh. When you think it can’t get better, he pulls your shirt up over your head and casts it aside. He rolls one of your nipples between his fingers. The look on his face when you arch into his fingers is so satisfied. It makes him carry on while also kissing across your chest.

“Fuck, Ji, if I keep this up I’m gonna come on your thigh,” you whimper.

“So do it,” he answers.

“I can’t, that’s…” you start, cutting off when he sucks hard into the skin of your breast. “Fuck!”

“That’s what?” he prompts, returning to your nipple.

“I can’t come just from this,” you mutter lamely. It makes you feel like a teenager.

“Then I better help because I want you to make a mess,” he says.

Before you can protest, he’s kissing you again. His thumb hooks into your underwear and rubs across your clit in time with you rocking. It’s too much all at once. Too much stimulation. Too close. Too different. It all works, though, because you’re coming undone in seconds. Making a mess of his thigh just like he wanted. Screaming out his name and thankful to know nobody else can hear you. You lean forward to rest your forehead against his, trying to steady your breathing.

“That was so hot,” he whispers into the limited space between you.

“I’ve never gotten off like that before,” you admit.

“I wonder if there’s anything else I can pull out of you for the first time,” he says.

“Like what?” you wonder.

“I guess we’ll see,” he answers

“I think it’s time for me to take care of you,” you say.

He kisses you gently and pulls away. “Not yet.”

“But,” you start, only to cut off when he flips the two of you over.

The shock over being completely manhandled by Jihoon is all you register until you feel his fingers by your hips, tugging your ruined underwear down your legs. All you can do is watch as he kisses from your ankle all the way up your inner thigh and down the other side. When he pulls himself back up your body to settle between your legs, you shiver. Try to play it off as his breath against your cunt, still slick. You watch as he spreads your lips open so that he can lick into you.

“Fuck, Ji,” you whine out.

“Just relax, sweetheart,” he urges before diving into you again.

You’re expecting it to be a little frenzied. Not that you’ve never enjoyed getting eaten out, but you just kind of see it as foreplay to get through. That was before Jihoon, apparently. He takes his time, carefully builds you up again. Has you begging for something more. Has you uttering phrases that don’t make any sense. Has you seeing stars in the darkness of the room. Has you feeling the loss when he removes his mouth.

“No, Ji, please,” you beg. “Your tongue feels so good.”

“I know,” he says and then he’s kissing you.

He keeps kissing you as he runs a finger through your wetness, once and then again. Keeps kissing you when he slides his finger inside of you. Nips at your lip when you moan at the addition of his second finger. You can feel how tightly you’re coiled from the build up with his tongue. The way he fucks his fingers into you, you know you won’t last long. It’s hard and fast and as desperate as you felt moments ago when you begged for him. He’s relentless, even when your walls grip his fingers and your toes start to curl. You come so hard on his finger that he actually has you squirting. And honestly, he’s got you blacking out a little bit too.

“Jesus fucking christ,” you curse when he falls beside you. “Your fingers, your mouth, oh my god.”

“I’d ask if it was good, but I think I know the answer,” he chuckles.

You swat at his chest, but he catches your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. So tender that it takes the bite out of your next statement. “Fuck off.”

“Your body is so amazing, I could watch you come every day and never get sick of it,” he admits.

You prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him. He’s laying on his back, hand casually running over his already hard dick through his briefs. You move his hand and free him. There’s a hunger in his gaze as he watches you spit into your hand and start running it along his shaft.

“Go slow,” he requests and you look at up at him. “Watching you is so hot that I’m a little wound up. And I still want to fuck you.”

“Jihoon, you’ve already…” you start.

“Please. You can take care of me anytime. I want to feel you around me,” he whispers. It’s not quite a beg, but it’s close. All you can do is nod okay. “I need to hear you.”

“Yes, Ji, I want you to fuck me,” you say.

He rolls over on the bed to reach into the bedside table and rustles around for a minute. The sign before he rolls back over sounds bad. “I don’t have a condom. It’s, uh, well it’s been awhile.”

“It’s okay,” you say.

“I guess maybe this will have to…” he starts.

“No, I mean it’s fine. I’m on birth control and it’s been awhile for me too, so it’s fine. I trust you,” you say, finding you do actually trust him.

“Are you sure?” he checks.

“Fuck, yes, please. I don’t care that you’ve made me come twice already, please fuck me,” you insist and it works. He smiles and slides his briefs off.

In another second, he’s positioning himself between your legs again. You lay back against the pillow behind your head and just look up at him, so impossibly fond. It’s too soon to be this fond. But, you see the same look in his eyes, so maybe you’re not alone. He lines himself up and drags his tip against your entrance. Opens the lube you hadn’t even noticed and takes it into his hand. He lets it warm up for a second before running his hand over his dick. Then, he’s back at your entrance and slowly pressing into you. He takes his time letting you adjust, watches your face for signs that it’s okay. He leans forward to kiss you and it’s so gentle you want to cry.

You’re glad this is slow, that he’s taking his time. It’s not that you’re inexperienced, it’s just that you can’t remember the last time you felt this comfortable with anyone. You’re not sure you’ve ever known how nice it was to just look into someone’s eyes while you’re fucking. Not sure you’ve wanted to be this close. Jihoon’s body is pressed against yours as he thrusts into you, but it’s still not enough. You wrap your legs around his hips, run your fingers down his back, arch into him. Anything to meld your bodies together that much more. He’s not as vocal now, but you’re probably taking care of that for both of you. You can see all the things he wants to say in the eyes that stay trained on you.

His thrusts start to get a little off rhythm and your moans become more broken. “Fuck, Ji, yes! Right there.”

“I’m gonna fucking come, oh my god,” he moans out.

“Me too,” you whine. “Fuck, it’s too much.”

“Come for me, please, I need to feel you,” he very nearly begs.

“Fuck, I’m coming!” you scream out.

Your whole body shudders and you sort of register the praise coming from Jihoon. He follows right behind you, releasing into you. You can tell he’s trying to keep his weight off of you, but you pull him to just let go. Reluctantly, he settles his body down on top of yours. The weight is pleasant and being close to him is even better. After a moment, his breathing falls into line with yours. It’s several moments longer before he carefully pulls out of you and rolls to the side.

“Wow,” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah,” you agree.

It’s much later than usual for you by the time you wake up on Christmas morning. But, it had been late by the time you and Jihoon had gotten cleaned up and back in bed. Even later by the time you stopped wanting to talk while all cuddled up. When you wake up, you feel his chest pressed into your back and his arm draped across your body. The second you start to move, his arm tightens and he somehow pulls you closer to him. He presses kiss into your hair.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, voice thick with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you answer.

He adjusts behind you and you realize he’s a little hard again, pressing into your ass. Even though you know it’s not fair, you wiggle your ass against him. You’re more than a little surprised when he bucks, just once, into you in response.

“Sorry, I’m sure you’re a little sore this morning,” he says, still hoarse.

“Not so sore,” you answer, pressing back again.

“Don’t you want to see what’s under the tree?” he asks, the teasing clear in his voice.

You turn over so you’re facing him. “I think I’d rather unwrap this present first.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groans. But, he pulls you against him all the same, clearly not opposed.

Once you’re both showered again and dressed, you pad downstairs and straight into the kitchen to find Jihoon is already at the counter getting the coffee going. He looks so cute with his messy, wet hair, that you can’t help yourself. You have to come up and hug him from behind. Place a kiss between his shoulder blades and then rest your head. All he can do is just put a hand over yours.

“What do you want for breakfast?” you ask when you pull away.

“The cinnamon rolls you insisted we had to have,” he says like it’s obvious.

By the time you get those in the oven, he’s handing you a perfect cup of coffee, exactly the way you like it. It feels like neither of you can be physically separated. Hands finding each other as you move around the kitchen. Little kisses as you pass by. Just drawn together like magnets. Once the cinnamon rolls come out, and you add the extra icing that you insisted on, the two of you head to the living room.

You think you were supposed to text or call Jun when you open his present, but you’re a little stuck on opening the things Jihoon got you at the last minute. He insists that you go first and open your presents so that he can see your reaction. The first couple are silly, but thoughtful. Just little things that show he’s actually been paying attention to you much longer than you realized. Not that he had some kind of crush or anything, just that he pays attention when people talk. When you think you’re done, he pulls out a small box.

“I wanted you to open this last,” he says in response to your confused look.

It’s a small box, very nicely wrapped. You open it to find a beautiful necklace, simple and stunning. Exactly the kind of thing you like to wear. But, exactly the type of thing you can’t accept. “JIhoon, it’s beautiful. But, you must know it’s too much. I can’t take this.”

“I didn’t spend anything on it,” he assures you and slides closer so he can look down at it in the box. “It was my grandmother’s. And before you say you can’t take it again, she’d want someone to have it. She wanted to pass her jewelry on, but was so sick of our family. I think she’d really like you, so I want you to have it.”

“Thank you,” you say softly and lean forward to kiss him.

Watching Jihoon open the little things that you got him is everything you hoped it would be. He’s so appreciative of each thing, even if they seem small to you. They’re all things he says he really needs. To him, that’s one of the best kinds of gifts because it shows that you’re listening. It shows that you want to make someone else’s life just a little easier. It nearly makes you emotional when he’s the one opening things.

You want to stay curled up on the couch with Jihoon forever, watching stupid Christmas movies and invading his personal space. He grumbles a little at you clinging to him, but pouts the second you pull away. Sadly, you have to get up to start some of the cooking for Christmas dinner. Jihoon offers to help, knows you’re feeling a little sore, and you wave him off. Cooking at Christmas is one of your favorite things. You get your music going and don’t even register anything else. You don’t hear his footsteps or his voice talking to someone.

“Hey, Ji? Do you think I should make all the rolls? Probably, right?” you ask and turn around to see he’s standing in the doorway holding his phone up.

“Did my bestie just call you Ji?” a voice asks from the phone.

“Uh, yeah,” Jihoon answers and closes the distance to you. He hands over the phone. “Jun was looking for you.”

“Oh, hi, Junie! How’s your parents’?” you ask. His eyes scan you and you look down too late. You’re not wearing your shirt, it’s one of Jihoon’s that you stole because it was more comfortable.

“Not as good as it is there, apparently,” Jun says with a giggle.

“Oh, well, you see…” you start and Jun is cackling.

“I’ll let you get back to cooking, but expect to have a long conversation when I’m home,” he says once he stops laughing.

“You sound like my parent,” you whine.

“Just try and tell me there’s nothing to talk about,” Jun challenges and you look over at Jihoon sitting at the kitchen table.

“I can’t,” you say, still looking at him.

“I knew it,” Jun says, triumphant. “Give the phone back to Ji…”

“You don’t get to call me that,” Jihoon chimes in.

“So much to talk about,” Jun repeats as you hand the phone back over.

The rest of the afternoon passes too quickly. Jihoon stays in the kitchen with you when you have to cook and lounges on the couch with you watching movies when you’re waiting for things to finish. He helps wherever he can and genuinely seems to appreciate the effort that you’re taking. Well, he appreciates it almost as much as the dinner itself when you sit down to eat. Without question, it’s the best Christmas you can remember. It turns out that maybe you were right all along. Christmas wasn’t about presents or specific people or anything. It was about feeling joy and thankful and just a deep connection with whoever you were with. It makes you realize you do need to talk to Jihoon, though.

After dinner, the two of you settle back on the couch with a glass of wine. His free hand traces patterns into your legs that are across his lap. “Hey, so about what Jun said…”

“Jun is an idiot,” Jihoon brushes off.

“He is, but he also has a point. There’a a lot to talk about,” you say. He turns his head to look at you.

“I meant what I said last night, I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” he says and takes another sip of wine.

“But, that’s so…I don’t know,” you start, searching for the words.

He just shrugs like you’re talking about something so simple. Maybe you are. “I’m pretty open about things when I’m comfortable. I’m also kind of an all in or all out guy. I don’t know, that’s probably too much. I’m happy with whatever you’re comfortable giving me.”

“You’re going to make me fall for you, Lee Jihoon,” you tease lightly. You’re also testing a little bit.

He smiles at you, that soft one that makes his eyes crinkle. “That doesn’t sound so bad to me.”

“I guess it doesn’t,” you agree.

“Thank you for being the best thing about Christmas in a long time,” he says. So honest. It’s so simple, too.

“It’s been perfect,” you agree. “The only thing that could make it better is…”

“Snow,” he interrupts.

“Yeah,” you agree.

He shakes his head and points to the window. “No, it’s snowing.”

You turn your head to follow his finger and see he’s right. Snow falls in light, beautiful swirls just outside the window. You can’t remember the last white Christmas you had, even living somewhere it snows.

“Wow, this really is the perfect Christmas,” you whisper.

i hope you liked it. please reblog or leave a comment to let me know your thoughts 💕

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disasterofastory · 7 months

Text

Run (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

Run // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 12/14 Warnings: chasing, outdoor sex

Summary: Brahms chases you through the garden.

"Are you ready?" Brahms asks one last time. One of his hands is still on your hips, squeezing your flesh softly before letting you go and taking a step back. He can already feel the tension and adrenaline building up in him, pumping in his veins and speeding up his heartbeat. "Yeah," you breathe out, barely finding your voice. You already feel cold without his closeness. "I will count to twenty," Brahms smirks. "You will need it." "Don't be so sure about it," you reply. The confidence in your tone is light and trembling. "Maybe you will never see me again." A few months ago, Brahms would have been angry and desperate hearing your words, but not anymore. He will catch you, and even if not, you will come back to him. He is sure about it. Instead, he laughs, pressing his back against the wall of your room. He has to force his muscles to relax and not crawl their way back around your body. The curve of his lips is confident and a bit mocking. "Run." His words are muffled by the porcelain mask hiding his face.

He doesn't have to say more.

You run as fast as you can. You fall against the wall with a quiet thud as you try to take a sharp turn without slowing down. You can hear Brahms laugh from the distance. The deep rumbles send chills through your body, and your heart quickens its beating. Your socks are slippery on the wooden floor, but you still reach the stairs. Your legs almost slip, and the only thing that keeps you from falling on your bottom is the handrail you are still holding. You can still hear the man from your room as he counts louder and louder so you can hear him.

By the time you reach the entrance door of the manor, you are already panting and gasping for air. Your limbs tingle with the adrenaline rushing through your veins, and you have to force them to do as you want as you circle around the small space in front of the door. "Brahms!" You shout. "Where are my shoes?" "Five," he continues to count. "Four." Fuck! Not caring about your shoes or the nasty trick Brahms pulled on you, you bolt out of the door. The cold night air slaps you across the face, filling your lungs with the earthy scent of damp soil before you jump down the stairs and start to run into the darkness. The moon hangs low in the ink-black sky, casting a silvery glow over the green field behind the manor. Your eyes scan your surroundings, trying to find a place where you can hide from the man, but the sound of the door closing behind you makes you forget everything.

Brahms is here.

Adrenaline courses through your veins, and your heart races in your ribcage, urging you forward with every wild beat. Your breath comes in rapid, shallow gasps, and your lungs burn for more air. With each hurried step, the soft, cool grass tickles the soles of your bare feet. Excitement and determination bubble within your chest, pushing you to run faster and faster while Brahms behind you gets closer with each passing second. You can feel the thud of his heavy steps under your feet. He will get you. You want him to get you.

With a sudden thought, you stop in your tracks, turning back to face him. When the man notices the change, he stops, too. Even though you can't see his face, you know he is surprised. Your chest heaves as you stare at each other. His mask looks even paler with the moon's silvery glow on it. Your thighs clench as your eyes rake over his broad form. He looks primal and beautiful. With a smirk on your lips, you grab the hem of your shirt to pull it off with a swift motion. The thin fabric falls to the ground, leaving your upper body bare in front of his darkened eyes. Your nipples harden within a few seconds because of the cold air brushing over your heated skin. You feel like a raw nerve, throbbing and needing friction. "Do you want me?" You ask him teasingly. "If you are not fast enough, I will run away," you continue. You can see as he tenses at your words.

Brahms's whole focus is solely on you. His eyes follow your every movement as you make a few steps back, grinning when he follows you. His every instinct tells him to bounce on you before you slip further away from him. His fingers twitch, and his muscles cramp as he forces himself to stay put.

For a while, you circle around in the empty field, staring at each other with heavy breaths and rapid heart beating. You really feel like a prey under his gaze, and the excitement goes straight to your pussy. Your panties are already damp between your legs.

"I start to feel like you don't even want me," you taunt him some more. "Not really. Maybe I should go and-" Your words end up in a loud scream as he jumps. You barely have enough time to turn around and run when his arms cage you against his chest, keeping you secure and tight in his firm hold. "Brahms!" You squeal again, falling onto the ground under his strength. Your knees land on the grass with a painful thud. "Fuck!" You try to roll over and out of his hands when his hold on you tightens, and he turns you onto your stomach. You grunt at the sudden tug. He pulls your hips up so you are on your knees with your ass in the air in front of him. "You are mine," he growls next to your ear. His mask is cold at the crook of your neck as he hovers above you. His chest is pressed to your back, and you can feel his erection through the thick fabric of your jeans. He already grinds against your bottom for some friction. You want to tell him to tear off your clothes, but you decide to stay silent and let him have this moment.

Even though Brahms knew of your little play the whole time, there was a moment when he was really afraid of losing you. He still feels the sick turn of his stomach when he saw you running away from him in the distance. His muscles burn from the effort he chased after you with his full speed.

When both of you are naked, finally, he presses his cock against your pussy. You are already wet and ready for him, but he doesn’t push in yet. He relishes in the heat of your folds on his shaft as he grinds against you, keeping your hips tight and secure in his large hands. "Brahms!" You gasp, your words muffled by the ground under your face. Your fingers dig into the mud as you push your bottom backward. "I know, love," he grunts. "Just give me a moment." His eyes are closed as he soaks his erection in your juices. The tip of his cock glides through your folds and nudges your clit. "Br-Brahm-" you whine again, shaking. Need blinds you for long seconds as you wiggle in his hold. "Tell me you will never leave me," he demands. "Tell me you are mine, Y/N." "I'm yours," you tell him without thinking. At this point, you would say everything he wants to hear just to get what you want.

A hiss escapes both of your lips when he adjusts himself to your entrance. You sound like a wounded animal as you feel his cock pressing into your wet channel. Your toes curl at the stretch of your pussy around his grith. Brahms doesn't push into you entirely even though you know you could take him. He teases you, driving you mad with need. He rocks in and out, once, twice, three times. "Please," you gasp. "Brahms." It seems like the only thing you remember is his name falling out of your open lips every few minutes. And while you are busy begging him, Brahms is at the edge of losing his mind. His muscles are taut above you, trying to control himself and his urges. Every fiber in his body tells him to ruin you for every other man, to fuck you so deep and fast, you won't ever think of leaving him.

You look back over your shoulder at him with a small frown when you notice his stalling. His cock splits you open but stays still. "Brahms," you groan, wiggling. The man needs a few seconds to register his name falling from your lips. His eyes find yours, and for a little while, none of you says or moves. "It's okay," you tell him, opening your legs even more. "Please, Brahms. I need you." You arch under his warm palm on the middle of your back, so you practically present yourself to him. You rest your head on the ground, keeping yourself from falling forward with your arms while your ass is high in the air with his cock in your pussy. Your grip around him is warm and wet.

With a deep, ragged breath, Brahms starts to work himself in and out of you. Your walls clench around him as if you are trying to keep him inside, stretching and filling your tight hole. At the feeling of your muscles working on his cock, he gives a harsh thrust into you, grinding inside you entirely. Saliva slips out of your lips as your jaw goes slack by the power of his push. Your body rocks back and forth as he fucks you from behind.

Brahms's head drops for a second when a low groan bursts out of his chest. He can feel every small movement and squeeze of your pussy. You suck him in deeper and deeper, wanting him just as much as he wants you. And this little fact still amazes him.

You want him. You love him.

You want him to fuck you under the dark sky, not caring about the dirt sticking to your skin or the cold caressing both of you.

He adjusts himself behind you so he can watch as you take his cock with every thrust of his hips. Another low growl escapes his clenched teeth as he focuses on your tight hole stretching around his grith. Your pussy and his cock glint with your juices, seeping down your thighs.

Brahms is ruthless as he fucks you and fills you to the brim while you cry and whine underneath him. Pure ecstasy washes over you in waves, rocking your body against his thrusts. "You are mine, Y/N," he growls, pounding into you. "You will never leave me, do you understand?" Beneath him, you wail and sob, gripping onto the ground. Your nails are dirty from the soil. Your eyes are teary and unfocused as your lips open and close every now and again without forming any coherent word. You are so beautiful like this, helpless and cock-drunk.

"Fuck!" He snarls, holding onto your hips tightly when he feels the familiar pull in his balls. "Y/N!" At the same time, his cock starts to jerk inside you, your walls clamp and squeeze around his shaft too. He fills you to the brim as he empties his balls until your tight hole starts to leak with his semen. He grinds into you, wanting everything and anything you can give him as you reach your climax. Drool slips out of your mouth, and tears run down your cheeks as you cry and cry and cry. The world spins around you, and the only thing that keeps you grounded is the man above you, forcing you to stay on his cock until your whole body goes limp and he falls to the ground next to you.

"Do you still want to leave?" He pants, pulling you to his chest. Your leg drops over his, and he can feel you smearing over his skin. Your pussy is sensitive, swollen, and leaking with his cum. "If I can run, can you fuck me again like this?" You wheeze, still fighting for your life as your body trembles after your orgasm. Brahms just laughs. There is no way you can run after this, but if you can, he sure can fuck you even if his dick will fall off.

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms heelshire smut #the boy x reader #the boy imagine #kinktober 2023 #slasher fucker

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yuna542 · 11 months

Text

[1]

>Bad Idea<

Pairing: Hong Woojin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Enemies with benefits to Lovers

Warnings: 18+, under 18 DNI!, Fem!reader, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, jealousy, ANGST, blood, sexual assault, violence, mentions of sex, alcohol

Word Count: 9.1k

Note: Here we go. Wanted to write an Oneshot. It escalated and it became a Story with 4 Parts. Hope you like it and you are also obsessed over the show! It’s amazing!

Summary: As Gunwoos little sister he wanted you to finally meet his best friend. Unfortunately you don't get along. He gets on your nerves, you fight all the time and yet you can’t stop messing with each other. One evening you get into a dangerous situation and end up bruised and bloody at his apartment. And you suddenly have to ask yourself: Why do you feel so attracted to that idiot?

"What do you want me to say?" you breathed, struggling to keep your voice steady.

"What you feel," he replied, anger reflected in his eyes as well. He hated that he felt that way. That you had done this to him.

"I can't stand you," you replied, and every word hurt like someone was pressing red-hot iron against your skin. Maybe if you denied it, the feeling would go away on its own.

He came even closer, sparkling at you with mesmerising eyes.

"You don't mean that."

"You don't know what i mean. It's okay. Just leave! If I never see your face again, I'll be happy," you shot back at him, something inside you breaking more with each word. "I wish i never-" but he interrupted you by grabbing your hand.

"Don't say something you don't mean. Don't you dare," he growled.

Chapter 1:

The Idiot

„Gunwoo! Come on! Hurry up!", you shouted through your apartment, leaning on the doorframe, ready to leave.

Now your brother had already talked you into coming to a boxing match that wasn't his own, and now he was making you wait. You heard the rumble in his room and he was probably gathering his things in a panic so that you wouldn't change your mind at the last minute.

Beside the hustle you heard his cell phone ringing behind the door and he answered in a rush:

"Yeah... Yes we're on our way... See you soon."

Then he finally opened the door and ran into the kitchen to plant a kiss on your mom's cheek.

"We're off, Mom."

The woman with the same kind eyes as you and your brother turned from the stove and raised her finger.

"Just watch your little sister for me!"

You sighed loudly as your brother gave you a doubtful look and eyed you. You raised your eyebrows, as you would probably always be the little girl to your mother.

"I'm sure she can do that very well on her own," he said with a gentle smile and you snorted in amusement. But you were grateful that he didn't put you down.

Even though you were way shorter and narrower than your brother, most people had more respect for you. Or they were quickly intimidated. Unlike your reserved, polite brother, you stood out because of your confidence and cheeky manner.

If you didn't have the same eyes and handsome face, nobody would have guessed that the quiet muscleman and the little hothead were siblings.

"Come on now! Otherwise we'll be late!"

Gunwoo shoved his cell phone into his pocket and you waved goodbye to your mother as you disappeared through the door. As you walked down the stairwell, you could see your brother smiling conspiratorially.

"I thought you weren't interested in the boxing match."

"I am interested in your boxing matches. You're making me watch your friend's, aren't you?" you retorted, skipping the last two flights of stairs as you had always done.

Originally, years ago Gunwoo had told you that there was a monster lurking under the last staircase that would grab your ankles and pull you down into the basement if you weren't careful. When you were six you just stuck your tongue out at your brother who was four years older than you and called him a fool, but even today you skipped over them out of habit.

As soon as you stepped out into the fresh air, you took a deep breath. It was a summery day and the birds were chirping. Sitting in a stuffy hall all day, enveloped in the smell of sweat and blood had not been your plan.

"I just want you to finally meet Woojin! He's my best friend and a great boxer."

"Mhh," you replied, remembering the day a few months ago when Gunwoo had come home late from a fight and told you that he had been out to dinner with his opponent all evening.

You used to be his best friend. You shared everything, were always together and you even helped him train for his dream. But since this Woojin showed up, your brother only hung out with him and therefore you had little interest in getting to know him. It would be an understatement to say that you already disliked him without even knowing him.

"This is going to be great. Woojin has been training for today for a long time. I'm sure he'll rock it. And I'm sure you guys will get along great. You guys are actually very similar."

"Oh yeah?" you asked suspiciously, and Gunwoo just smiled knowingly.

"Watch it! Idiot," you hissed as you picked yourself up off the ground and rubbed your aching neck. The idiot who had just knocked you over was staring at you with wide eyes, completely frozen.

He had run around the corner unannounced and hit you full on. Not only was he quite a bit taller than you, but he was also broadly built and his chest, against which you had crashed, felt exactly like a wall.

Slowly he seemed to come back to reality and ran a hand through his curly mane, allowing you to see his earrings.

"Man shit! I'm really sorry about that. I didn't see you..."

"What you don't say..."

The amazed man held out his hand to help you stand up, but you ignored it. Irritated, you stood up on your own and patted your skirt while the curly-head still held out his hand.

"I was in a hurry and I just overlooked you. You're so small and light... Shit you really flew really far", he said almost enthusiastically and you scrunched your nose indignantly.

"Well, open your eyes next time, douche bag!" you snapped at him and he stared at you in surprise. He hadn't expected such a sharp tongue from such a pretty girl.

Then, fortunately, you spotted your brother at the other end of the hall, looking out for you with two bottles of Coke in his hands.

The one with the curls was now eyeing you more closely, and he was speechless as soon as you looked at him out of those shimmering eyes.

"Are you watching the boxing match?" he asked, putting on a confident smile.

"No... I just hang out here a lot. It's all full of testosterone-fueled machos and the air is so nice and stale around here."

Now there was silence again and you could clearly see in his face how he was weighing whether it was sarcasm or the truth.

"Really?" asked the rascal now and you just shook your head with a snort.

"You're really not very smart, are you?"

Maybe you weren't particularly nice, but he was getting on your nerves big time, with his handsome face that was sure to drive any other girl out of her mind.

He leaned down toward you with his hands in his pockets and grinned mischievously.

"You're quite bitchy, dollface."

"Fuck you!" you hissed at his provocation and stormed past him.

"I knew it was a mistake to come here," you muttered as you passed, not giving the macho another glance.

Instead, you disappeared among the people and joined your brother, who had gotten you into this whole mess in the first place.

"Where have you been?" he asked, handing you the Coke he'd gotten you. You brushed a strand of hair out of your face and together you stood at the entrance for the bleachers.

"Some idiot knocked me over."

"Oh. Are you okay?"

You nodded with raised eyebrows and leaned against his muscular shoulder.

"Yes ‚Oh'... I‘m fine.“

You hadn't been a fan of the idea of coming along to a boxing match from the beginning, but you had been to every one of Gunwoos fights and he had begged you to come along to his friend's fight until you had said yes.

Well, he had also bribed you with pizza and sushi, but in the end you said yes anyway. He was a boxer himself, so you already knew a lot about the sport. Most guys who boxed at your age were pumped-up, arrogant machos who had nothing but their sport on their minds. That's exactly what the idiot had just proven to you one more time.

"Trust me this is going to be really good today!"

"Let's see. If I don't get squished first."

The first rounds were indeed exciting, and you had to admit that you were soon eagerly following the fight and cheering along. But when the next fighters were announced, you froze in your seat.

The next up-and-coming boxer was announced as Hong Woojin, and Gunwoo applauded beside you as he entered the ring. As soon as the realization hit you, you gasped out loud.

This couldn't be true. As soon as you recognized the curly-haired man, you laughed in disbelief.

"That's him! That's my friend Woojin. He's unbeatable in his class!" your brother began to tell you excitedly, and you could only watch the muscular young man prance across the ring, provoking his opponent even before the fight began.

"That's the guy who knocked me down!" you said then and the start of the fight sounded simultaneously with the incredulous „What?", of your brother.

You had to bite your tongue as you watched the fight. Sweat glistened all over his toned body and with every punch, every tense, his defined muscles looked even more delicious. Gunwoo had been right. He was damn good at boxing and after an exciting exchange of punches, he won with ease.

His movements were fast and precise. Like a bee that stung when you didn't expect it.

Together you waited for him outside the locker room and when he came through the door and discovered your brother, his eyes shone with pure joy.

They fell into each other's arms, laughing, and Gunwoo patted him congratulatory on the shoulders.

It was almost cute how they jumped around clutching each other tightly and were happy like dogs who were allowed to play together in the park.

When they were done with their greeting, you cleared your throat loudly so they finally paid attention to you.

"Oh. Yeah. That's my sister, by the way. Y/N. This is Woojin," Gunwoo eagerly introduced you. Woojin stared at you wide-eyed as he recognized you, and you just pressed your lips together into a line.

"Hey."

You raised your hand and waved shortly at him.

"It's you?" he asked, perplexed, and you rolled your eyes at his disgusted expression.

"Believe me, I imagined it differently too," you said, walking ahead.

Over the next few weeks, you got to know each other better and, more importantly, you hated each other. Woojin was annoying and a pain in the ass. When you went out to eat together, you argued most of the time until Gunwoo intervened.

He teased you incessantly and enjoyed it when you glared at him angrily. It was a gift of his that within no time he knew exactly how to make you mad.

Nevertheless, you often went out together and did things as a trio, because despite your quarrels, you had one essential thing in common. Your love for Gunwoo. You had to admit that Woojin was a great friend to him and they got the best out of each other.

As much as your brother wanted you two to get along, that was probably never going to happen.

It was a few weeks later and you came up to the roof to check on the boys and let them know that dinner was almost ready.

They were working out again.

At the sight of Woojins muscle-bound torso, you swallowed hard. They lifted weights and spurred each other on until they spotted you.

Woojins gaze traveled up and down your body, lingering for quite a while on your cleavage, set off by the new dress you had just put on.

"Hey your sister is here!" he said and your brother put the weight down to look at you.

You walked over to them, trying to ignore Woojins intense stares. Maybe you should have changed your clothes. He always made fun of you, when you were wearing something more revealing so he could unsettle you. It was only a matter of time till he would make fun of you.

"Mom says dinner is almost ready."

Gunwoo nodded and grabbed one of the towels hanging over the back of the chair next to you, wiping the sweat from his forehead and chest.

Inconspicuously, you kept glancing at Woojin as he took the water bottle, his muscles pumped and tense from the workout and his hair stuck to his forehead.

It was outrageous how good he looked.

He pointed to the other towel.

"Dollface be so kind and give me that!" he said with a grin. He had given you that nickname at the very beginning and you didn't know exactly why, but you got heart palpitations every time he called you that.

Annoyed, you took the towel and threw it harder than necessary into his face.

"You're welcome," you purred provocatively, crossing your arms.

"Is that dress new?" asked Geunwoo, looking less than enthusiastic.

"Yes. Don't you like it?" you asked, looking down at yourself. It was a burgundy dress that was tight and came down to your thighs.

"Yes it does, you look good. It's just a little short, isn't it?" he said, protective brother coming through once again.

Woojin ran the towel over his abs and came closer until he was standing in front of you, eyeing you closely.

"I think it's cute. How did you know red was my favorite color?" he teased and you just rolled your eyes.

"Don't get your hopes up Woojin. Even if you were the last person on this earth, I wouldn't let you touch me."

"Ouch and I thought you were wearing those sexy outfits just for me."

Playfully shocked, he grabbed his chest and you wanted to wipe that annoying grin off his face.

"You should go take a shower... You stink," you shot back and turned around to disappear back into the house. That was a lie. In fact, he always smelled so good that you automatically wanted to move closer when he sat next to you. Even when he was sweating, he smelled seductively tart and masculine, which didn't help you loathe him.

"Is she on her period or why is she so sensitive?" he asked extra loudly so you could still hear.

In response, you just raised your middle finger and slammed the door behind you.

Another time, you wanted to watch a movie, but the argument over the remote control got so out of hand that Gunwoo had to pull you apart by force.

Woojin ended up with big scratches across his chest and you were missing a tuft of hair.

Sighing, Gunwoo had come between you and you sulked at each other for a week until your brother persuaded Woojin to apologize to you.

Secretly, you were grateful that the argument was finally over, so you invited them both to the cinema.

When you got the tickets and Woojin saw that it was the movie he'd been talking about for weeks, he'd just looked at you completely dumbfounded.

"I thought you hated horror movies, I have the taste of a preschooler and this was just another cheap copy..." he had whispered to you in the movie theatre and quoted your exact words from a few days ago.

You had just shrugged your shoulders.

"Maybe I've changed my mind."

Then the curtain went up and he had no chance to question you further.

Actually, you still hated horror movies and you wouldn't like this one either. But this was your way of apologizing without losing your pride.

When Woojin held out his bucket of popcorn to you without comment, you smiled in the darkness and took a handful.

That's how it continued to go. You didn't become best friends, yet you were constantly seen together. It had also become normal to go not only to Gunwoo's fights, but also to Woojin's. Especially when Gunwoo didn't have time because he had to help mom at the café, you would go to the fights alone.

When Woojin's eyes wandered through the crowd and he met yours, the corners of his mouth would automatically twitch upwards, as if he knew you would be there.

Even if it was just to laugh at him after a defeat or to poke him in the side on the way home when he got painful bruises. There was absolutely no middle ground with you both, constantly at each other throats, ready to pounce.

Chapter 2

The Party

It was a Saturday night when you were getting ready for a party. Half the town was invited and it was going to be a big event.

You checked your appearance in the mirror one last time and pulled your hair into place. You had half of it up and the rest fell in shimmering waves over your shoulders.

The dress was perhaps a bit daring with the emphasised cleavage and it was tight around your waist.

It artfully brought out your every curve and with the high boots and red lipstick, the black minidress looked much more expensive than it had been.

Glancing at your phone, you ran out of the bathroom and bounced right into something big and hard. Cursing, you staggered back, but two strong hands were already at your waist holding you down.

"I hate it when you do that..." you grumbled, looking up at Woojin through your thick eyelashes.

He was about to say something mean, you could tell by the glint in his eyes, but it got stuck in his throat.

Your eyes shone like diamonds, rimmed with eyeliner, that made you look like an attentive cat, and as his gaze traveled down your body, his mouth stood open as if he couldn't believe what stood before him.

He knew you as his best friend's annoying little sister, usually in sweatpants and comfy clothes when he was around, but right now you were a goddess whose presence he couldn't escape.

"Hello? Woojin?? Earth to Idiot?" you asked, waving both hands in front of his face when he didn't respond and also didn't let go of your hips.

Slowly, that brought him back to the here and now, and he looked into your eyes, caught, as if you'd saw him stealing cookies.

"Uh yeah? What did you say?" he asked and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

What was wrong with him? You really had never seen him speechless before.

"I asked if you didn't have your own home?“

Gradually the teasing grin returned and he pinched your side lightly as his hands were still tightly closed around your waist. Your skin tingled strangely at the spot and even though your mind was literally screaming at you, you couldn't put any distance between you.

"What's the point when it's so much nicer at your place?"

You tilted your head a little and eyed him briefly. Surprised, you realized he wasn't dressed as casually as usual. He was wearing jeans, albeit ripped, and a dark red buttoned up shirt that sat tight against his biceps and chest. Slowly you realized what was going on here and you shook your head slightly.

Woojin just grinned wider as he saw the panic rise in your eyes.

"No. Oh no! No! GUNWOO!" you shouted almost hysterically and that's when he burst out of his bedroom door while still buttoning the last buttons of his blue shirt.

"What's the matter? What happened?" he asked, confused, looking back and forth between you.

Briefly, his gaze lingered on Woojins hands, which were still on your hips, whereupon he quickly took them away and clasped them in his neck.

"You're not coming to the same party! He just wants to embarrass me in front of my friends" you shouted, and Gunwoo put a hand on your shoulder reassuringly, but Woojin beat him to it:

"In fact, I've been invited, and Gunwoo is my companion."

Angrily, you glared at him and groaned in annoyance.

"You look gorgeous, by the way, dollface," he said, winking at you charmingly. You searched for sarcasm in his tone, but you didn't find it. Overwhelmed, you just stared at him and then walked away.

Your cheeks glowed and your hands cramped, forcing you to take a deep breath.

At the party, you immediately mingled with your friends and began to booze one drink after another. Bodies moved ungracefully around you, shimmying and shoving through to the living room or to the terrace at the back yard where people were throwing each other into the large pool. All these strange feelings were so confusing that you just wanted to drown them in alcohol. It was around midnight when you first saw your brother and Woojin again.

The older one was bringing a drink to a girl with long black hair and a pretty face. Next to her, Gunwoo was talking to her friend, and even though the alcohol was already clouding your vision, it was obvious that she was head over heels in love with the curly-haired boxer.

Directly something stung in your chest as he laughed at something she said and nudged her.

His hair shone like chocolate in the light and fell messily into his forehead. As the world spun around you and your friend's conversation slowly faded into the background, you stared at his hands for a while. The veins and pronounced knuckles had long fascinated you and you had rarely seen anything more attractive.

But when he put an arm around the girl, something similar to a growl crossed your lips.

You broke away from the circle with your friends without saying a word, and the plastic cup with the Coke-Vodka mixture in your hand crackled dangerously due to the way your fingers tightened around it.

You didn't know why or where this anger came from, but the alcohol prevented even a clear thought from breaking through the thick fog of rage.

As soon as you reached her, you changed your angle and stumbled into the girl with a really convincing startled "Oh". As you did so, you aimed accurately and the entire contents of your drink landed in the girl's face and on her light blue dress.

Shocked, she stumbled back a few steps and Woojin jumped to the side in time to avoid getting hit. With her mouth open, she wiped the burning alcohol from her eyes and you watched with satisfaction as the stain on her dress spread and her makeup ran as if a bucket of water had been poured on an oilpainting.

But from the outside you had a completely surprised expression on your face and held both hands in front of your mouth, to feign concern with your most convincing voice:

"Oh no! I'm so sorry about that! I shouldn't have drunk so much."

Stunned, the girl stared at you and you could see Woojin convulsively stifle a laugh at the angry expression on her face.

"Shit! What the hell!" she screeched at you, stomping like a little kid as she realized the extent of the disaster on her dress.

Gunwoo and the other girl watched silently, seeming to want to help but not daring to.

Woojin on the other hand, only looked at you. When your eyes met, he glared at you questioningly and he could have bet that the corners of your mouth twitched up in satisfaction for a moment.

Before you could fake a guilty conscience any further, she raced past you and disappeared somewhere in the direction of the bathroom.

Her friend ran right after her, and that's when Gunwoo turned to you and pulled you aside by the arm.

"What was that about?" he whispered as anyone around would care.

Of course he knew you did it on purpose. You couldn't hide anything from him. He knew you too well. Woojin crossed his arms and still said nothing. They both knew how much you could drink. You even drank Woojin under the table.

You just shrugged your shoulders unconcernedly and returned your brother's intense glare.

Yes, what was that all about? You had no answer to that. You were simply disturbed by the way the pretty girl looked at Woojin.

"It was an accident," you said unconvincingly, and now the amused smile came through after all.

"Don't bullshit me!" said Woojin and of course he had seen through your charade too.

But he couldn't even guess why you had done that. Maybe he thought you were crazier than he already supposed.

Astonished, he tried to read any answer from your facial features, but you were just as unreadable as usual. He never knew what was going on in your head and that made him curious.

You turned to him and leaned forward until your face hovered close to his.

"Oh. Did I mess up your one-night stand? I'm so sorry about that."

You smiled sweetly, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Woojin opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, his gaze wandered aimlessly across your face.

Your noses were almost touching and the alcohol was messing up his mind. Your body in the dress was already hard to resist and he had been trying not to look in your direction all evening, even though he was almost addicted to the way you shifted your weight to the other foot, the way your curves endlessly flared under the thin fabric. If you weren’t so annoying…

Why had he never noticed how beautiful your nose was? How artistically your eyebrows were curved and how full your pink lips were?

Did they feel as soft as they looked?

"Now I guess you'll have to fill in for her. It would only be fair..." he murmured, narrowing his eyes.

You froze as his intense gaze drove heat into your cheeks. His eyes were fixed on your lips and you wanted to reply something provocative, but the amber around the black of his eyes shone so beautifully that you unconsciously bit your lower lip.

Of course, he was just teasing you, but something about his tone made you feel embarrassed.

Your fingers twitched and you fought the urge to brush the strand of hair from his forehead. You caught yourself, inches away from your face. You saw him, looking down at your lips, causing you to gulp loudly. You wanted to lean in, push away all the doubt you had in your mind, and follow your stupid heart.

It was only seconds, but the moment seemed to captivate you for an eternity. The music and the people around you only seemed like background noise by now.

"No way would I sleep with you!" you finally replied, but why did the words feel so heavy on your tongue?

Like when you claimed, chattering your teeth in front of Gunwoo, that you weren't cold, even though he had told you a hundred times to bring a jacket.

He tilted his head a bit and just smiled in amusement until Gunwoo put a hand on his shoulder and called out to fight the loud music:

"I'm going home! Mom called. She needs help. Some pipe at the sink broke. Are you coming too?"

Woojin seemed snapped out of a trance, and you both looked in different directions so quickly, as if you could use it to undo the strange moment.

"Uh yeah. Yes I'll be right there."

Then your brother turned to you.

"Are you coming?"

Briefly you were tempted to agree, but your stupid heart only raced when you looked at Woojin. Whatever was wrong with you, you desperately needed to do something about it. It was disgusting.

"No. I'll stay for a while."

Gunwoo was going to protest, and he'd throw you over his shoulder if he had to, which is why you quickly disappeared between people until he lost sight of you.

Your head squeezed uncomfortably and you clutched your chest in which your heart just wouldn't calm down. Like a wild bird fluttering incessantly in its cage. You grabbed another cup and rushed out of the living room, the atmosphere suffocating you. You needed another drink, a cigarette, and some alone time.

Actually, you didn't smoke. You hated the taste and the smell of smoke. But Woojin hated it even more and that was reason enough to put the cigarette between your lips and take a deep push.

But on the second puff, you coughed in disgust and threw the cigarette into the trash can.

Confused, you ran into the bathroom on the second floor. There was less going on and in front of the large mirror you first took a deep breath and looked at your reflection.

Your cheeks were pink, but otherwise you looked like before.

Then why did it feel like the world had turned around you?

Woojin's eyes and that annoying grin just wouldn't leave your thoughts. Annoyed with yourself, you dabbed some water on your forehead and chest, perhaps to lessen the effect of the alcohol.

Because that had to be the reason. You had simply drunk too much.

After you were reasonably calm again, you mingled with the people. Your brother and Woojin were fortunately nowhere to be seen. They were probably long gone.

You found your friends again and the conversations distracted you a little from the chaos in your head.

"You look stunning," said a guy about your age as you stood at the bar getting another drink.

"Thanks," you smiled lightly and with a quick glance you had to admit, he was really good looking. He was tall, well built and had a striking face. You struck up a conversation and he was actually funny as well. Actually he seemed to be kind and smart. Also the complete opposite of Woojin.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked after a while.

"Sure."

He led you by the hand to the dance floor and you moved to the music, laughing and goofing around a bit. However, a strange feeling crawled up the back of your neck. Like someone was watching you.

You glanced over your shoulder a few times, but in the middle of the party, among the tightly dancing couples, drunken teenagers, and loud music, you couldn't make out anyone.

The alcohol quickly made the moments flow into each other and you lost track of time. You finally found yourself in a dark corner, the guy whose name you had already forgotten, had his hands firmly on your hips, pressed you against the wall and spread hungry kisses on your neck. You closed your eyes and really tried to concentrate on the moment.

It wasn't the first time you made out with someone at a party and this time he was even friendly, charming and good looking. You rarely got that lucky and it was a welcome distraction.

You just didn't want to think about Woojin anymore.

But as soon as his fingers ran over your sides and his lips brushed your skin, you imagined how the idiot would touch you.

Would he be gentle and cautious, or dominant and rough?

A gasp escaped you as the guy cupped your breast with a hand and somehow sounded suspiciously like Woojin in your head, and when you opened your eyes and stopped seeing the boxer's broad shoulders in front of you like moments before in your imagination, your heart stopped for a moment.

What had you just been thinking about?

Panicking, you pushed the guy away from you, who looked at you in confusion.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, and you just shook your head. The lump in your throat was getting bigger and bigger and you feared choking on it if you didn't get out of this place soon.

"What's wrong?" he continued to ask as you picked up your purse and pulled out your cell phone.

'I just imagined you were my brother's best friend, who I actually hate, and kind of liked the idea.'

Instead you said:

"Nothing. Everything's fine. But I really have to go home now," you assured him, patting him clumsily on the shoulder as a goodbye, not knowing what to do in such a situation.

He was completely flabbergasted and looked after you as you hurried down the stairs and left the party in a complete rush.

Only when you had passed the large estate a few streets behind you, you dared to breathe a sigh of relief. The fresh night-air blew your hair out of your face and it smelled like wet asphalt and leaves. The streetlight illuminated the side streets just enough so you could still read the street names on the signs.

While you were trying to call a cab on your cell phone, you realized what kind of neighborhood you had landed in. It looked like an industrial park and there was no one on the street. You started to feel uncomfortable and when you thought you heard footsteps behind you, you ran faster.

Cursing, you tried several cab companies, but none answered. The line was busy and the constant beeping seemed to mock you. You winced when the sound was behind you again. You definitely hadn't imagined it.

Your heart was already pounding in your ears and just as you tapped Gunwoo's number, your wrist was jerked back hard and the next thing you felt was a blow on your temple.

Then everything went black.

The next time you opened your eyes you were already being dragged into a dark alley. Your vision was blurry and your head throbbed painfully, but you could make out at least three black figures.

Only when your back hit a cold stone wall did your sanity seem to return.

"Well, what have we here?" you heard the tallest of them say. His raspy voice vibrated in your ears and when you recognized the three black-clad and masked men, fear ate so deeply into your chest that your eyes instantly filled with tears.

You wanted to scream for help, but before a sound could pass your lips, a hand was pressed over your mouth and you were slammed hard against the wall. Painfully you groaned and stared at your attacker with wide eyes.

"Such a pretty thing, out so late, all alone?" he asked, and there was nothing but coldness in his eyes.

The other hand was firmly on your hip and you thought you would faint from fear, but with your last willpower you stubbornly returned his gaze and tried not to let your despair show.

The other two thugs were standing menacingly behind him. One had a baseball bat in his hand, the other had brass knuckles on both fists. You felt like you were trapped in a bad movie and wanted nothing more than to just wake up. You could see your cell phone lying on the ground behind them. The screen still glowing and Gunwoo just one call away. It had to have fallen out of your hand when he hit you.

"Listen, if I take my hand away now, you're going to be nice and quiet and not cause any problems, otherwise I'm going to have to be rude, understand?"

He talked to you like you were a little kid and you pressed your hands against your thighs to keep them from shaking.

You nodded and your heart drummed so wildly you feared dying of a heart attack.

"Good girl..." he purred, slowly removing his hand from your mouth.

Instead of screaming, you clenched your teeth hard, jerked your knee up, and caught him right between the legs. Gunwoo had shown you often enough what to do when you were attacked.

Never by three armed men, though.

At that time you had only laughed and said:

"What could happen to me? I have you. You always protect me."

Everything happened so fast that you could hardly take a breath. Fortunately, you had hit it dead on.

Groaning in pain, he slumped forward and you lashed out, hitting him in the nose with your fist, just as you had seen many times with Woojin and Gunwoo in the ring. Taking advantage of the moment of chaos, you wriggled out of his grasp and ran towards the street, the adrenaline rushing in your ears.

Your breath caught in relief as you almost reached the main road, but you were thrown back hard by your hair. Screeching, you flailed around as rough grips closed around your stomach and yanked you all the way back again.

Desperately you tried to hit something, but most of your blows came to nothing, until you were thrown against the wall again and the anger-distorted face of the gorilla appeared in front of you. You felt something warm run down your temple and you instantly fell silent as his hand closed around your neck and squeezed until you were gasping desperately for air.

"Stupid bitch! Get her purse! Look how much she's got on her!" he ordered his minions, and they ripped the purse from your body.

They quickly found your wallet, took the money inside and threw the rest aside. The one with the baseball bat handed the leader the money and he pocketed it before looking back at you and you fervently hoped they would take the money and leave.

You tugged at his hand, but it remained iron-clad around your throat and you felt your field of vision getting smaller and smaller.

Blood soaked his mask and he had trouble speaking. At least you got him right.

"Shit, she's really tough..." he laughed and tore the mask off his face.

When you saw the cruel face, your heart sank and desperation slowly made your resistance collapse. His eyes wandered lustfully down your body and the grip on your neck loosened a little.

"She looks really hot... I guess we got really lucky today," he said and his minions laughed disgustingly.

"What do you think? We have a little fun and you make up for beating me, huh?" he purred, and the fear took on entirely different proportions.

The tears now flowed freely down your cheeks and you tugged harder on his hand, but he didn't move a millimeter. The other two walked a few steps away and turned their backs on you. Maybe to keep watch, maybe to ease their consciences.

With his other hand he grabbed your hip and pushed your legs apart with his knee. In your mind you prayed to whatever God there was to help you. You felt alone and completely helpless that you were about to give up.

Like in a trance, you only noticed how he tore the dress at your chest and pushed it up your legs. You squinted your eyes, your heart ached and fear gradually made you drift away as soon as you heard his belt buckle open.

"Hey you fucking asshole! Hands off her! Now!"

Your eyelids fluttered at the aggressive shout and before your tormentor could turn around, he was yanked away from you and a fist hit him in the jaw with such force that he staggered back.

As soon as you regained your breath, you gasped and slumped against the wall. Your legs no longer supported you and you could only watch, crouched on the floor, as Woojin stood in front of the gorilla and raised his fists.

"What's the matter? Have you lost your tongue?" he shouted at him and now the others also became attentive and rushed to help their boss. He seemed to notice them only now.

"Shit," he muttered and gave you a curt look. The tears in your eyes and the blood slowly running down your temple were enough to make his anger boil over and something animalistic entered his eyes.

You grabbed your aching throat and couldn't believe he was really here. But the relief was quickly overshadowed by new fear as you saw them circling him, baseball bat at the ready.

Woojin breathed calmly and fixated his attackers intently. As he did so, he gritted his teeth aggressively and his jaw muscles twitched with tension.

"You little bastard. Do you really think you can stand up to us?" the one with brass knuckles asked provocatively and Woojin just laughed bitterly.

"Let's try."

You knew the look from the ring, only this time it was aggressive and angry. There wasn't a glint left of the enthusiasm of sportsmanship flickering in his eyes.

There was only blackness and unbridled hatred there.

With that, the gorilla charged at him, but he dodged with ease. He also dodged the next blows and countered with a series of quick, precise punches, all of them hit forcefully. But already the one with the baseball bat swung out and missed him by a hair's breadth.

Woojin kicked him in the knee, punched the third in the face and fended off more blows from the goon. With a well-aimed kick, he managed to knock the gorilla off his feet, but a startled growl escaped him as the baseball bat hit him hard on the rib.

Woojin staggered back, gasping, took the guard up and cashed in a few more blows with the baseball bat until he found a gap and with a clean blow to the temple took out the attacker.

Quick as a flash, he grabbed the baseball bat and threw it at the goon, who was just getting back up at the same time as the other hit the ground.

With a rattling breath, you looked around for anything you could help with.

Woojin ducked away under a few more punches and seemed more tense. He was in pain and the blows with the baseball bat seemed to have hurt him. One precise blow with the brass knuckles would be enough to knock him out.

The gorilla huffed and grumbled like a bear as he tried to get back to his feet.

That's when you spotted a rope behind a trash can. You quickly grabbed it and crawled on all fours to the giant before he could get up and wrapped it around his neck from behind.

He gurgled for air as you pulled the rope tight and tried with all your might to fight his resistance.

You lay on your back and tugged at the rope with all your body weight until your arms trembled, but the gorilla just didn't weaken.

Like a worm, he writhed on the ground, gasping and trying to get rid of the rope. Glancing at Woojin, you winced violently as a blow hit him hard in the face. His head was thrown back and as soon as you saw the blood on his cheek, it flooded your body with renewed energy.

A tortured cry escaped you and you tugged harder on the rope and finally the resistance weakened.

"You stupid asshole! Go to sleep already!", you pressed out and felt the rope cutting into your palms.

Woojin slowly straightened up and fought against the dazed state with all his might. He lunged again, throwing punches so fast you couldn't even follow them.

Just when your muscles were burning so badly you were afraid you'd have to let go, the huge body went limp and you let go of the rope as if you'd been burned by it.

Woojin dodged away under a hard punch at that moment, knocking the thug off his feet and letting a shower of punches rain down on him until he lay motionless.

Getting on his feet again, he swayed briefly and shook out his wrists before rushing to you and kneeling in front of you.

You wrapped your arms around your exposed body and looked at him with those beautiful eyes that he took your face in his hands and said worriedly:

"Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

His voice rolled over with concern and you put a hand on his reassuringly.

"I'm fine. Thanks to you," you replied, still in a raspy voice. In the pale light of the lantern, you could see the blood running down his cheek and you felt guilty that he had caught so many bruises for you.

"You're bleeding. Those fucking assholes..." he cursed, his voice dripping with anger as he saw the blood on your temple. The concern in his eyes overwhelmed you. There was nothing else for him but you at the moment and as he scanned you for more injuries, he saw your torn dress.

He quickly slipped out of his jacket and put it around your shoulders. You pulled it tightly around your body and deeply sucked in his scent that clung to it and it made you immediately feel safe.

"Come on, let's get out of here. Can you walk?" he asked carefully, putting an arm around your stomach to help you to your feet.

"Yes I can do it," you dismissed it, trying to look strong, but in truth your head was throbbing, it hurt to swallow, and your knees were as soft as jello. Reaching the gorilla, he carefully let go of you and picked up your purse, cell phone and wallet that were scattered around him.

He handed them to you and you watched as he knelt down to him and slapped his face.

"Hello!" he shouted.

"Wake up, asshole!", and slapped him again until he grumbled and slowly regained consciousness. He groaned in pain and writhed on the ground, making a pathetic picture.

Then Woojin straightened up again and put a foot right to his throat so he couldn't move any further. Anyway, the guy's face was so swollen that you could barely make out any structure.

Then Woojin looked to you and asked:

"How much did he steal from you?"

After a moment's thought and a look in your pocket, you answered truthfully:

"About 200.000 won."

He patted it down and pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket where he had put your money earlier. Then he took out the bills, counted them out quietly, and handed you a wad of them while the gorilla watched, panting angrily.

"Then this is yours."

He took out the rest of the bills, which definitely were a total over 500.000 won. Apparently you weren't the first one they had robbed tonight.

Then Woojiin handed you the rest of the money as well.

"And this is for the unpleasant trouble he caused you, isn't it my friend?" he asked emphatically, pressing his foot on the gorilla's throat until he gurgled and nodded with a groan.

"Let's go," you muttered, glancing at the unconscious thugs. All of them were covered in blood. Woojin had really raged and from their injuries you could clearly see his anger like a handwriting. He quickly put an arm around you again to support you and together you walked out of the alley onto the street.

After a few shaky steps, he looked at you worried from the side:

"Are you sure you can walk?"

"Yes everything is fine. Stop worrying, it's annoying!" you drove at him a little too harshly than intended.

He raised his eyebrows and before you could react, he lifted you up bridal style and carried you across the street.

"What are you doing? Woojin what..." you stuttered, but he just smiled softly, which silenced you.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked after a while.

"I don't live far from here. I'll take you to my place."

He expected resistance, but his eyebrows furrowed in surprise when you gave in. You were too exhausted and going to his place really seemed like the best idea. Sighing, you relaxed in his arms for the first time and leaned your head against his chest.

His jacket warmed you and his strong arms made you feel safe and secure. He looked down at you as your eyes fell closed and smiled in relief.

At his front door, you opened your eyes again when he lowered you down. As he unlocked the door, he groaned in pain and held his side with a resigned laugh.

"Shit that guy hit me clean with that bat."

A shaky gasp escaped you. Seeing him hurt like that burdened you more than you thought it would and you wanted to take all the pain from him he was suffering because of you. You silently examined his profile and inevitably tears rose again when you saw the bleeding wound on his cheek.

"Woojin?" you murmured in a brittle voice and he looked at you concerned, afraid that something might be wrong with you. Astonished, he watched you step close to him and gently placing a hand against his cheek.

Your lower lip quivered dangerously and he wanted to say something to make the sad gleam in your eyes disappear. But when he said something, he usually made things worse and he didn't want to risk that right now, when you were so close to him. Your breath bounced against his face and his gaze was magically drawn to your lips.

"I'm so sorry," you breathed and your voice broke on the last word as you brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and a bruise was already forming underneath. The guilt was overwhelming and never would you have thought to care so much for the macho man.

Almost panicked, he shook his head and took your hands in his so you looked at him.

"No. Don't. You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn't do anything wrong. It's all those assholes' fault!" he tried to cheer you up, but you just smiled tiredly.

Feverishly he considered and then grabbed his cheek, wincing slightly as it wound was already burning like hell.

"Oh that? That's nothing! I've gotten worse as a boxer!" he said, knocking his fist against his head.

"That's probably why I'm such a idiot, like you always say."

That actually made you smile and you even laughed slightly. He would have loved to jump in the air with relief, but his aching ribs wouldn't allow it. He squeezed your hands gently and then held the front door to the stairwell open for you.

"Come on. Let's go inside and get something good to eat."

Quickly you nodded and let him lead you to the door of his home. As he let you into his apartment and you looked around the room, you noticed that you had never been here before.

You were always at your place or out on the town.

"Do you live alone?" you asked as you kicked off your shoes and he turned on the lights.

The living room was tranquil and empty except for a small red sofa and a television. The kitchen was right next to it and the sink was stacked with pots, plates, silverware and even pizza boxes. Amused, you brushed a line through the dust at the large window through which the light from the street lamps shone.

"Yes. My father and I don't get along well... Tension flew regularly and so I thought it's better to keep my distance," he said, spreading his arms.

"Welcome to my kingdom. Had I known you were coming, I might have cleaned up," he said and you looked over your shoulder in disbelief.

"You wouldn't have."

He snorted in amusement and pulled the blinds closed.

"Yeah you're probably right."

He gathered up a few clothes that were all over the place and tossed them into a pile that only grew.

Despite the mess, which you wouldn't have expected any other way from Woojin, it smelled incredibly good. It was the scent that clung to him as well and was burned into your head.

Meanwhile, the blood on your temple had dried and began to itch.

Actually, you didn't want to know what you looked like. You probably bore more resemblance to a scarecrow.

"Where's your bathroom? I'd like to take a shower."

He was already standing in the kitchen, throwing a handful of ramen into a pot. At the mere sight of it, your stomach grumbled like crazy.

"Down the hall. The door on the left. Towels should be in the closet," he called as he worked, and you smiled as he threw a kitchen towel over his shoulder.

Before you left, you turned back to him.

"Woojin? Can you please not tell Gunwoo about today? He'll just worry unnecessarily."

Woojin pressed his lips together and looked pained.

"I don't like lying to him."

"I know. I'll tell him. I promise. Just not today okay?"

With that, he seemed satisfied and he nodded.

"All right."

In the bathroom, you slipped out of his jacket and carefully folded it. Your dress, however, was beyond saving. You put the torn rag aside and looked at your body in the mirror.

Dark spots were already forming on your hips and on your neck and you got goosebumps when you thought of the large hands that had grabbed you there. Your makeup was completely smeared and there was a wound on your temple from the first blow.

Sighing, you opened your hair and marveled at all the beauty products lined up outside the shower. He had more conditioner than you did. However, that was the last thing you would complain about.

But you made a little mental note when you needed something again to get on his nerves.

As soon as the warm water hit your skin, you sighed in relief. The blood dyed the ground brown and with the water you also tried to wash away the events of the evening.

Hissing, you looked at your wrist. It was swollen from the pumch you had thrown and your knuckles were cracked.

How did the boys always do it without hurting themselves?

Fresh again and with renewed energy, you stepped out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around your body.

"I feel like a new woman ," you commented as you walked into the kitchen, the smell of fresh ramen making your mouth water.

Woojin looked up from the two bowls he was preparing and when he saw your bare legs under the towel, he gulped first.

"I texted Gunwoo that you were drunk as fuck and now snoring on my couch."

That was still better than troubling him with the truth, which is why you nodded and ran your fingers through your hair.

"Thanks."

But you didn't seem to mind just standing in front of him in a towel. By being with Gunwoo all the time, he had often seen you in your pajamas, without makeup, or in sweatpants. It was almost as if he lived with you. Probably you had spent too much time together or you saw him as another brother. The thought tasted bitter in his mouth and he didn't know why.

„Do you have anything I can wear?" you broke the awkward silence, and that's when he finally stopped staring at your legs.

"Sure," he quickly replied and disappeared into the only other door next to the bathroom.

When he came back he handed you a pair of yellow sweatpants and a black shirt with blue flames on it.

Disgusted, you lifted the clothes up with only two fingers.

"You've got to be kidding me..." you commented, and he laughed throatily.

"I'm sure it looks great on you!" he grinned and you wanted to punch him.

"Your clothing style is really questionable sometimes," you muttered, and it was obvious that he had picked out the ugliest things to tease you.

Or maybe he really meant it?

-> [2]

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@littlebaby-bunbun @officialshania @choisoorin @fanaticnae @lola2004sworld @penny44224 @tasteskz-sworld

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the0racl30fd3lphi · 1 year

Text

More than friends, definitely more than lovers x.t. (pt3)

a/n: here is the third and (maybe) final part. y'all ate this up and really loved the first two, and for that i am so thankful for you all! so please, enjoy.

pairing: xavier thorpe x gn!reader

summary: nevermore's favorite tortured couple seems to be back on the mends, the only question, will it work out? are they going to make it through or are they only going to make it worse?

warnings: fluff, angst, love triangle (kinda) light swearing? not much tho, suggestive themes

word count: 2,365

part 1 part 2

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"Hey," he smiled. The way he looked at you made your heart flutter. It was if he couldn't believe you were really there. Like he dreamed of this moment, and now that he has it, he truly couldn't comprehend if it was actually real or not. But it was. And his heart soared at that thought.

Standing there, you made no move to speak. You were waiting for him to say anything first. You wouldn't let yourself fall on your knees for him like your mind told you too. So you looked up right into his eyes, using every method you knew to make him bend to your will.

"Don't give me that look," For the one time in almost a month he looked way from you first.

"What look?" You played dumb.

"That one!" he threw one of his hands up and shook his head. "The one that makes me want to crawl at your feet and start.. begging." He still looked down as he ran his hands through his hear and went to grab for a hair tie. At his point he needed to get all the hair out of his face before he went to rip it all out.

"That sounds pretty nice actually, you should beg." You crossed your arms trying to keep in your anger, whatever was keeping him from apologizing was running your patience thin.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Xavier kept his head down but kept fiddling with the rings that adorned his slender fingers. "I was an asshole. You deserved much more than what I gave you. The last thing I should've done was.. what I did."

He was hesitant to actually acknowledge that he ignored you, his best friend of years, for a girl who genuinely gave him little to zero attention, got him arrested and imprisoned, and who wasn't actually into him after she led him on for so long.

"Oh yes and please, remind what it was that you did?" Now your anger was quite literally smoke blowing out of your ears. You missed this guy? He's wanted this little meeting for so long and he can't even commit to it.

"Well I-" He stuttered.

"Oh my god you can't even admit to it! You make me so frustrated!" You were yelling straight in his face now.

"Like, sexually?" This skinny little twink had the audacity to make a joke about your rage and start laughing at his own jokes.

"Why did I even entertain this stupid idea.." You pushed your headphones back onto your head and started for the stairs.

"Okay wait, wait hold up!" Xavier grabbed onto your arm and pulled you back towards him. With one slick movement he pulled them down to rest around your neck, and slid his hands down your arms to grab your hands. He stroked the back of your hands with thumbs smoothly.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you like that. I ignored you, abandoned you, treated you so horribly for how much more you actually deserve. So please, if you find me deserving," Xavier got down on one knee, hand still in yours, and looked up at you with those big green eyes. "Forgive me, lets go back to what we were, and I will be forever at your mercy."

"Wow. Poetic. You write now?" You tilted your head at him and raised your brows so far, they almost disappeared into your hair. But the corners of your mouth can't help but lift.

"I dabble," his smile grew four times as large and made your stomach flip, in the good way.

"How about you dabble in being a better friend?" You laughed and pulled him up by the hand he was still holding. You weren't sure if he still realized but neither of you had let go yet.

Playfully, and to diffuse some of the lingering tension, you lightly shoved him and walked back up the stairs to leave this spooky little library. He laughed and followed after quickly, skipping two steps as he jumped up the stairs.

"Aye aye, captain."

——————————————————————————

It'd been a week since you and Xavier started talking again, he was attached at your hip. He worshiped the ground you walked on and to an extent it was hilarious. Beyond that you ate it up. This was as close to the attention you have craved from him for years as you were gonna get.

"See, now at this point I don't know if he's whipped or if you are," Val rolled from her desk, all the way to you at yours. One look at the polaroid's littered all over your desk, extra drawings, some pinned while some hidden, and soon she gagged.

"Shut up," You pushed her head off your shoulder but you couldn't push the smile off your face. Your eyes couldn't leave the most recent polaroid pinned on your mirror, written underneath "idiots in love" because Val thought she was the funniest bitch in the world. The photo itself was from a movie night you had with the whole group. Xavier and you had fallen asleep on the couch, not that close to each other, but close enough to have reached for each other subconsciously. Ajax snapped the photo and after your best friend wrote all over it he gave it to you later when people weren't paying attention and everything had died down.

"Why don't you just tell him you love him?" Val grabbed a pen from your desk and start drawing all over your hand and your forearm.

"I just got him back, I can't lose him again." You sighed and pushed up your sleeve and gave her more access room. Val stopped short for a minuet to look up into your eyes. She could read you like a poorly written magazine. It was in your eyes, everything she needed to know.

The desperation, the longing, the aching, she had to take a softer approach with you otherwise you'd break. Not that you were fragile, but you were.

"Sometimes you have to take risks, you'll never know if you don't try babe." Her hand came up to hold and stroke your cheek, "You should try. Isn't the risk of a love so great it'd go down in history, worth it?"

And it was if your love was a force so large, bound by gravity's thick lasso, you were pulled towards him. Unable and unwilling to stop yourself.

"Yeah, it is."

——————————————————————————

You realized some new things after talking to Val that night. Love made you poetic, you were up all night thinking about how your words were not your own, but merely fragments of the words he had given your soul to sing.

Oh god you were pathetic. So you did the only levelheaded thing you could do, tell Xavier everything and be rational later.

He was in his art shed late at night, music quietly pushing through the walls and finding their way thought every crevice. You pounded on the door and waited for him to open the door. You fiddled with the scarf that rested around your neck while you waited. After not hearing anything for a while you knocked again, louder this time.

Soon enough he opened the door and turned down the music when he saw you, "Hey, what's up?" He grabbed your hand and pulled you through the doorway and close it behind you.

"Xavier, look-" You cut yourself off after taking a glace around the shed. There was a painting, or a charcoal sketch, or a character study of you. Everywhere. Every 3 square feet, to be exact. "It's me?"

He laughed nervously, "Uh yeah." A hand came up to scratch and then readjust his still wet hair. "The distance kinda drove me mad, and you were some good inspiration." One new thing and your relationship with Xavier, he told you everything now. Full, and total, transparency. The music kept playing in the background and the low lighting provided the most insane ambiance for the possibly stupid decision you were about to make.

"Xavier I need to tell you something," You shed your scarf and sweater and placed it on the nearest chair. "It's really important." You looked into his eyes and all the words seemed to have magically left your mind, as well as all logical thought.

The way he was looking at you, sat on the edge of a nearby desk, arm propped up behind him to keep him steady. "Mhm?" He asked so innocently it drove you mad.

"I love you." You bit the bullet and spouted all the words that had been building up for quite literal ages. He flushed such a bright red it almost matched the color of his shirt.

"Y-You're my best friend," You cut him off by shaking your head vigorously.

"No. No no, Xavier, I love you." You'd never seen him so quiet. Blinking, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as if it was like swallowing was all he could do.

You rushed up to him and grabbed the side of his face, gently but eagerly attaching his lips to yours. You gave him time to respond, to push you off, to pull you closer, to do anything, and when nothing came you pulled away. Faces inches from each other all you did was stare in his eyes. So disheartened, you started to move backwards.

Xavier stood to his full height now and pulled you closer to him, both of his hands now up and resting on your face. His hands were so big they traced your jawline and caressed the side of your neck. Both of your mouths now moving slowly and sensually against each others. You brought up your hands to rest your palms against the back of his, a soft grip warming your hands and hearts.

Eventually oxygen was needed so you had to pull away. His hands stayed in place and yours only gripped his harder. Eye contact kept between you two mixed with the sound of your lungs greedily pulling air in and out. Smile crept up your faces and you started laughing. Both of you could barely grasp what was happening, all you knew was that you genuinely were never happier.

Following his arms your hands moved to the back of his neck, and his fell down to your waist. Years of pent up pining had come to this. Naturally you two became greedy. Panting and grabbing at each other for more. Your arm went pull around his neck and your other hand grabbed a fistful of his hair pulling and tugging. When you pulled a little too hard and a low groan escaped his mouth into yours, and the grip on your waist tightened, and you could feel his fingers digging into your skin, you only wanted more.

Things got desperate and hot fast. Xavier lowered his hands ever so slightly to creep up underneath your shirt and his cold palms set something afire in you. The simple touch of his skin on yours made you gasp, and he took the opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue.

Almost as soon as it had started, he started pulling away. "Wait, love wait," he pulled away from you and pushed the hair out of your face while studying it with his eyes.

"Did I do something?" Insecurity started to fill you as now you had a chance to think, though your mind was foggy.

"Do something? No, my girl you could never," He stroked the side of your face and pressed his forehead against yours. "Do you really mean this?"

"Sure would be real stupid if I didn't, huh?" You laughed and ran a hand through his hair. You two just took a minute to look in each others eyes, to take it all in.

"I love you." Xavier repeated back to you.

"I mean I'd hope so, that would suck if you didn't," Very quickly you returned to humor as your coping mechanism. He shook his head and pressed one more quick kiss to your lips.

"Ask me the stupid question already," You smiled and grabbed his hands.

"Y'know, patience is a virtue," He started tracing the veins on your hands. You looked at him and tugged on his arms gently. "Will you be my partner?" He tilted his head at the end of the question, what a bottom.

"No."

"What?"

"I'm joking, shut up and kiss me," You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Yes ma'am," He leaned back in and captured your lips with his.

——————————————————————————

When you got back to your dorm that night, lips swollen with a few hickeys poorly hidden by your poorly applied scarf, Val raised her eyebrows and immediately sat you down to talk. You spent hours that night going over it, every detail you could recall. Which was every single detail.

Into the late hours of the night, Val eventually fell sleep right next to you, face smashed into your pillow and a light snore escaping her lips every few minutes. Your blanket was pulled over her and you stared at the ceiling, too giddy to fall asleep just yet. Xavier had already texted you "i love you" and "goodnight my love <3" Of course you responded and you stared at your new home and lock screen, a photo of you and Xavier on a weekend trip to Jericho.

Then, at the genuine ass crack of dawn as the sun started rising, you remembered a promise you had made him years ago, when you were still young.

"I promise, I'll prove to them your heart beats the same way as theirs."

And you couldn't help but think you'd done it. He was so very capable of love and you only helped bring that out in him. Whatever the future had in store for you, you could handle it now. At least now with Xavier at your side you can.

Who could've ever imagined that you would've fallen so deeply in love with this boy? Against all odds, it seems, you found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. Infatuated like a poor man, and completely at his mercy.

——————————————————————————

@animesimp3456 @iovaki @navs-bhat @hellllloooosstuff @555stargirl555 @quinn165 @raeboo @heehooyeslol @leyseyb @aunicornmademedoit @regulus-black-223048 @o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o @pagesfalling @fanfictioniseverything @trickylittlewitch @baziutawrites @mxltifxnd0m @l-3rk @gumballsglassofmilk @bloodyziggy @ur-mom-is-h0t

#xavier thorpe #xavier x reader #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #imagine #fluff #making up #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe angst #xavier thorpe wednesday #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe x gn!reader #xavier thorpe x you #wednesday series

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genshinluvr · 1 year

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Insecurities and Jealousy

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader (Zhongli x Isekai'd!Reader)

Summary: Your insecurity and jealousy get the best of you, causing you to overthink. You assumed Zhongli would leave you for someone else because she (Lumine) looks a tiny bit like Guizhong (according to Venti). The tension between you and Zhongli proceeds to grow, thus you demand that Zhongli prove that he cares about you when the twenty-four men leave your bedroom to give you and Zhongli some privacy to speak.

Note: This is part two (and a request) of "Overprotective with a Hint of Jealousy," it will be linked down below. I think you can read this without having to read the first part tbh. The requester wanted this fic to be Zhongli focused and that is what I did. This post does contain smut, and it's been a while since I've written and posted smut, so I can't promise that it's good 💀 Here are my usual heads up regarding the smut-fics I post: every single one of my smuts, the reader is either a female!reader or an AFAB!reader. I try to keep it as gender-neutral as possible, but all of my smut-fics do lean more towards female!reader/AFAB!reader. Minors, DO NOT INTERACT! As usual, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Horribly written smut (as usual), Zhongli has two dicks, oral sex (both receiving), double penetration, handjob, deep throating, cervix fucking, biting, slight mentions of blood, spitting, and hair pulling.

Word Count: 10.3k

You can find part one of Insecurities and Jealousy right here: Overprotective with a Hint of Jealousy.

You’re the jealous type, and you hate it. You hate the feeling of your heart clenching in your chest and a sense of inadequacy. It’s an ugly feeling. It makes you feel like a terrible person whenever you get jealous of the people around you or someone that has passed on to the afterlife. You know she was his friend; they were nothing more than close friends. But why do you feel a raging fire pit forming in your gut when you know that there is an area in Liyue with their names combined? In your world, it’s a ship name.

Zhongli has reassured you that he and Guizhong are nothing more than friends. Close friends. But would close friends form an alliance and name part of Liyue with their names combined? You think the fuck not. Perhaps they were not creative with naming that part of the region? Either way, you hate that it exists and wish you never feel this way. You’re brought out of your thoughts when the glass cup shatters before you. You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, rubbing your throbbing temples with your index and middle finger.

You look at Albedo. “Apologies for breaking another beaker. I was distracted with my thoughts,” you murmur, giving Albedo an apologetic smile.

Albedo sweeps the shattered glass into the dustpan. “There’s nothing to apologize about, [Y/N]. If you need to take a breather, you can step out for a moment,” Albedo says.

Albedo is telling you to leave. Although, you don’t blame him for wanting you to go if that’s what he’s implying. Maybe you do need a breather, or else you’ll take your jealousy out on another glass beaker in the lab. After all, this is the fifth beaker you have broken within two hours of helping Albedo with his project.

You nod, letting out a long exhale through your nostrils. “You’re right, Albedo. I need to take a breather and collect my thoughts,” you said.

Albedo squeezes your shoulders and continues to sweep the glass shards into the dustpan, throwing them into the trash bin. You take your lab coat off and hang it on the coat rack near the door. You leave Albedo’s laboratory and press your back against the wall, sighing for the umpteenth time today. You push yourself away from the wall and stomp down the stairs. You’re glad the stairs have a rug because you don’t want to put anyone in a negative mood because of the thoughts that are hounding you.

Once you have reached the bottom of the stairs, Lumine perks up and waves at you. When did she get here? You give Lumine a smile and wave at her.

“Lumine! What are you doing here at the abode? Babysitting Aether again?” You ask.

Aether scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “She’s not babysitting me, [Y/N]! And for your information, I invited Lumine over because I didn’t want to be alone when Zhongli drones on about the history of Liyue,” Aether jokes.

You blink at Aether’s response, finally noticing the former Geo archon sitting across from Lumine and Aether. Zhongli sips on his tea, ignoring Aether’s comment about him droning on about Liyue’s history. You purse your lips and nod. As much as you would like to join them, Zhongli didn’t invite you, so why should you invite yourself?

Lumine rolls her eyes at Aether’s comment, nudging his side with her elbow. “Be nice, Aether!” She hisses. Lumine turns to you and smiles politely as if she wasn’t close to smacking her twin brother in front of you and the former Geo archon not too long ago. “Would you like to join us, [Y/N]? Zhongli was about to talk about Guizhong and the Guizhong ballista,” Lumine says nonchalantly.

Your eye twitches at the mention of her name. Oh, archons, her again? Do you even have the patience and courage to stay and listen to your boyfriend talk about a friend that has passed away thousands of years ago? No, no, you do not. Plus, Zhongli never invited you, so it would be rude for you to impose. He certainly did not invite you for a good reason, and for once, you’re glad he didn’t ask you to join the conversation.

You shake your head. “No, no, it’s fine. I was helping Albedo with his experiment, and now I’m taking a much-needed break,” you said.

“Aw! Come on, snookums! Why not join us?” Childe asks, walking into the room with a teapot in his hands.

You raise an eyebrow. “Childe, I didn’t know you were part of Zhongli, Aether, and Lumine’s tea party,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“There are more audiences, but they’re currently on a bathroom break. We’ve been sitting here for almost two hours drinking tea and learning about Liyue’s history,” Gorou says, stretching his arms in the air as he walks into the room.

You prop your hands on your hips. “Is that so? And I wasn’t invited?” You ask lightheartedly.

You mask your hurt with a lighthearted tone. You’re conflicted on whether you should feel offended that Zhongli didn’t think once or twice to invite you. Or if you should feel relieved that you didn’t have to sit through almost two hours of Zhongli talking about Liyue and her. Archons, this feeling is so ugly.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested in listening to the long history of Liyue. Besides, you were helping the chief alchemist with his experiment,” Zhongli says casually.

Venti plops down in his seat beside Aether. “If we’re talking about the God of Dust, she looks a little similar to Lumine. Only, she has a rat tail like block-head over there, and her hair is gray,” Venti says casually.

Venti’s comment makes you dread being in the presence of Zhongli and Lumine. If Guizhong looks a little similar to Lumine, could that mean that Zhongli may have felt some kind of attraction toward the blonde girl? What if Lumine was the reincarnation of Guizhong? No, it’s not possible because Lumine isn’t even from Teyvat. The raging fire pit in your stomach that is jealousy has grown after hearing Venti’s comment.

Noticing your change of demeanor, Thoma nudges Venti and gestures for the anemo archon to keep his mouth shut. Venti’s eyes widen, and he makes an “oops” face. Thoma turns to you and gives you a smile.

“Do you want anything to eat? You have been helping the chief alchemist for a few hours,” Thoma says, getting ready to leave his seat.

You give Thoma a strained smile and shake your head. “Oh, no, I’m not hungry. I’m about to go to Luhua Pool,” you said, pointing at the entrance of the estate.

You didn’t plan on going to Luhua, but now that you think about it, a change of scenery would be nice. Not only that, but you’re hoping the view of the blue waters would keep your mind off of Zhongli talking about Guizhong and how Lumine looks a little similar to Guizhong. The pit in your stomach grows when you see the light shade of pink on Lumine’s cheeks. To you, you see it as Lumine blushing at Venti’s comparison to the God of Dust. Still, in reality, Lumine was blushing from embarrassment and refraining from strangling the anemo archon for comparing her to the woman you envy.

Lumine knows about your distaste and jealousy toward the deceased archon. You expressed your frustrations to Lumine a few days ago. The frustration was more directed toward yourself than the God of Dust and former Geo archon. She knew how much you hate feeling jealous over their friendship. Lumine prays that you won’t hate her or grow a dislike for her because she and Guizhong look a tiny bit alike.

“Why are you going to Luhua Pool alone? There is danger outside the abode,” Xiao says, standing behind you with his arms crossed over his torso, frowning at you.

You look at Xiao and smile at him. “I’m going to Luhua Pool to clear my mind, Xiao. I messed up on Albedo’s experiment because I was distracted,” you explain, tucking your hands into your pockets.

You weren’t wrong about that part. You were distracted by the overwhelming jealousy directed toward Zhongli and Guizhong’s friendship. You wanted to have someone that cared about you as much as he cared about her. You wanted to have someone that keeps the memory of you alive when you’re gone, like how he does with Guizhong and the past adeptis that were once by his side. Yes, your boyfriends love and care about you, and you acknowledge that! But does Zhongli care about you as much as the other men do? Does Zhongli care about you as much as he cares about Guizhong? Does he care about you more than he does for her, or is it the other way around?

So many questions ran through your mind, making your throbbing temples worsen. You close your eyes and rub your temples. The sooner you leave the abode, the sooner you can (hopefully) soothe your aching temples.

Heizou approaches you, placing a light touch on your shoulder. “Do you want someone to accompany you? You don’t look too good,” Heizou murmurs.

You shake your head. “I’ll be fine, Heizou. Like I said before, I need to clear my mind,” you reply.

Before anyone can protest, you make your way to the entrance of the estate. Your throbbing temples are hurting almost as much as your heart. You end up finding yourself sitting at the top of the mountain in Luhua Pool, looking out at the bluest water you have ever seen. It’s nice and quiet. The only things you hear are the wind blowing, treasure hoarders conversing from afar, birds chirping, and the sound of your heart breaking. The last part is a little dramatic, but you can’t help it.

While the sun is beating down on your hot skin, you debate whether you should sit under a tree to cool off or just remain where you’re sitting. A twig snaps behind you, making you tense up and freeze where you’re sitting. You’re afraid that if you turn around, you will see Zhongli standing behind you.

You keep your eyes on the waters in front of you. “Zhongli, if you’re here to scold me for leaving the abode so suddenly, I don’t want to hear it,” you sigh, resting your head on your chin.

“Huh. Last time I checked, my name’s not Zhongli,” you hear a nonchalant voice say.

The person sits beside you, leans back, and looks at the view before you two. You didn’t say anything. What are you supposed to say, really? Were you supposed to explain to Diluc why you left the abode to sit at Luhua Pool?

Diluc sighs and places his hand on his lap. “You don’t need to say anything. I’m here to keep you company, even if you want to be alone,” Diluc says.

You close your eyes and rest your head on Diluc’s shoulder. Diluc shifts beneath you and wraps his right arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You were tempted to tease him for being protective, but you don’t blame him for being that way. After all, he (and the other men) did witness you getting injured in many ways a few days ago. It was humiliating. You never want to live through that kind of stuff ever again, but knowing yourself and your luck, that’s not going to happen any time soon. You close your eyes and let yourself snuggle up against the pyro vision holder.

“You know what I have always wondered?” You whisper, breaking the silence between the two of you.

Diluc hums in response, letting you know to continue.

“Ever since I arrived in Teyvat, I wondered if the people in my world know about my disappearance. I wonder if there are people that miss me or remember my existence,” you said, opening your eyes and gazing out toward Luhua Pool. “I know that he cares about me, but sometimes it feels like he cares about her more than he cares about me,” you murmur.

You are the present, and she is the past, but he’s keeping the memories of her alive. The people of Liyue and the adeptis are keeping the memories of Guizhong alive. Seeing how much people love and care about her, how they still think about her despite her perishing thousands of years ago, made you wish that you had friends like them. You don’t think your friends back in your universe are aware of your disappearance. Heck, you don’t think your parents or siblings care about your lack of presence in their world.

Footsteps approach where you and Diluc are sitting, breaking the silence between you and the redhead.

“So this is where you two have run off,” Dainsleif says, sitting beside you, sandwiching you between him and Diluc.

You sigh and lift your head. “How many of you followed me to Luhua Pool?” You ask, looking turning to look and seeing the other men trying to sneak up toward you, Dainsleif and Diluc.

Kaeya crosses his arms over his chest. “Are we not allowed to be worried about our significant other?” Kaeya asks.

“We noticed your change of demeanor when Zhongli’s friend was mentioned, and we wanted to check up on you to see if you’re okay,” said Kazuha.

You give the men a tight smile and nod. Even though you feel like shit for being jealous of Zhongli’s deceased close friend, you might as well pretend to be okay. Maybe that will flip your emotions, and you’ll be okay! Maybe. You’re not entirely sure if it’ll work since you let your feelings get to you almost all the time.

You stand and brush the dirt off your clothes. “I’m fine, really! As I said in the estate, I needed to clear my mind. I was distracted by my thoughts, and it caused me to break a few beakers in Albedo’s laboratory,” you explain.

“We also want to inform you ahead of time that Zhongli wants to speak to you once you return to the estate,” Ayato interjects.

Oh. So now Zhongli wants to talk to you after not inviting you to join him and the others for tea? You huff and walk off.

“Why should I speak to him? Zhongli didn’t speak to me earlier today, nor did he think once or twice about inviting me to have tea with him. I think he can wait a little longer to speak to me,” you said.

Gorou’s eyes widen, watching you walk closer to the edge of the cliff. Gorou tugs the shirt of the person closest to him, too scared to even speak up. Kaveh rushes over to you and grabs you by the wrist, pulling you toward his chest and walking far from the edge. It’s like you’re intentionally trying to walk off the cliff and end your life. You let Kaveh drag you off, mentally cursing at Zhongli and the dead god. Actually, cross that off. You’re mentally cursing at yourself for being this way. Your jealousy stems from your insecurities and lack of confidence. Your lack of confidence is because of the people in your life that had put you down at every chance they get.

Al Haitham gives you a slight glare. “Please don’t try to walk off the edge of the cliff. What if none of us are here to protect you?” Al Haitham scolds you.

Kaveh makes a face. “I think that’s what they intended on doing,” Kaveh mutters loud enough for Al Haitham to hear.

“I think you had plenty of time to clear your mind! Let’s head back to the abode! A nap can also help you clear your thoughts and distract the storm brewing in that pretty little head of yours,” Itto says, ruffling your hair.

You shake your head stubbornly. “I’m not returning to the abode now. I barely had fifteen minutes of alone time to myself. I’m glad that all of you care about me and want to protect me, but….” you trail off, sighing in defeat.

“How about this: we let you sit here and clear your mind while we stand from a distance to give you some space,” Tighnari suggests.

“I don’t think they want people to stare at them while they’re trying to collect their thoughts,” Cyno mutters to Tighnari.

Tighnari gives Cyno a subtle glare and nudges the Mahamatra’s stomach with his elbows. Cyno holds back a grunt, clutches his stomach, and shoots a not-so-subtle glare back at the forest watcher.

You end up taking Tighnari’s suggestion. The men stood ten feet from where you were sitting while you let your feet dangle off the edge of the cliff with your back pressing against the tree stump. You’re not mentally or emotionally prepared to face Zhongli. All you know is that Zhongli will most likely give you a lecture or scold you for acting like a child for getting jealous of his deceased friend.

Other than not being mentally or emotionally prepared to face Zhongli, you’re not ready to unpack all of the explanations as to what made you insecure and jealous easily. Quite frankly, you don’t blame Zhongli if he does end up scolding you for feeling and acting this way. It’s childish, and you don’t have anything to worry about besides him scolding you soon. Sometimes you question what these men see in you. You’re not a knight, an Adeptus, an archon, a high-profiled figure, or anything for that matter. What made these men drawn to you other than being able to control them back in your world whenever you played Genshin Impact?

You soon find yourself drowning in self-doubt. Not only are you questioning Zhongli’s feelings for you, but you’re also beginning to question the other men’s thoughts and feelings for you. They can have anyone they want, and yet they choose you. Someone who doesn’t hold a vision and isn’t from their universe. You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel someone zap your ribs. You let out a loud yelp and flinch so hard that you swore something in your head popped, sending waves of sharp pain through your head, causing tears to well up in your eyes.

“We told you not to zap them,” You hear Baizhu scold Scaramouche as he walks over to you and helps you up from the ground.

Scaramouche shrugs his shoulders. “I tried getting their attention without zapping them, but after a while, I had no choice,” Scaramouche says defensively.

You clutch onto the back of your head and bury your face into Baizhu’s chest while he rubs your head and walks to the teapot that sits idly by. Pierro raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms over his chest. You let out small sniffles and wipe a stray tear that threatens to make its way down your cheek.

Pierro stops you and Baizhu in your tracks by holding his hand out in front of the two of you. “Did something happen?” Pierro asks, slowly looking over at Scaramouche.

You give Pierro a strained smile and shake your head. “Other than Scaramouche zapping me, nothing happened. Although I do believe that I should get my head checked out just in case,” you said softly.

Dottore sighs beside Pierro and walks ahead of the group. “I’ll be getting the infirmary ready for the check-up. Doctor Baizhu and Tighnari, please make sure that [Y/N]’s condition doesn’t worsen before arriving at the estate.”

The strange pop in your head was painful, and it felt oddly hot too. It was like a blood vessel had popped inside your head, and the heat that spread throughout that area was the blood oozing everywhere. You can’t describe the feeling specifically, but you have experienced this before, but it doesn’t happen as often.

“Who died and put him in charge?” Pantalone mutters to Capitano, who shrugs in response.

Back at the estate, you stare at the familiar ceilings. You lost count of how many times you have visited the estate’s infirmary, and it’s pretty concerning. Albedo, Dottore, Baizhu, and Tighnari are quietly conversing with each other, looking over the notes and paperwork regarding your check-up.

“What’s the diagnosis?” Capitano asks casually.

Your head snaps up, and you look at the masked (helmet?) man with wide eyes. “There’s no diagnosis, Capitano! Or, I hope there’s no diagnosis,” you said nervously.

Dottore walks to you and gazes at you underneath his mask. “How’s your head feeling? Does it still hurt?” He asks.

You rub the back of your head where the pain was before returning to the abode. Thankfully, the pain isn’t there, but you do feel the phantom pain. You don’t feel the pain, but it feels like it’s still there. As if the pain is lingering.

You shake your head. “It doesn’t hurt, but it’s lingering. I don’t feel it, but I still remember what it felt like,” you trail off. “I can’t explain it. I’m terrible at explanations,” you chuckle bitterly.

“Well, from the descriptions you have given us at the start of the check-up, it’s an ice pick headache,” Baizhu says.

You stare at Baizhu owlishly. “It’s not serious, is it?” You ask.

Tighnari shakes his head. “It’s not a serious condition where we have to monitor you and have you go through treatments. The only time we have to do that is if it’s recurring,” Tighnari explains.

Albedo crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the counter in the infirmary. “How often do you get the ice pick headache?” Albedo inquires.

“I rarely get them. If I remember clearly, the last time I had the ice pick headache was when I was still in my world, but it was maybe two years ago,” you reply.

Pantalone smiles and ruffles your hair affectionately. “Then you should be fine, and you have nothing to worry about,” Pantalone says.

You smile at him and nod in agreement. Pantalone and Tighnari are right; you have nothing to worry about. You’re glad you don’t get the ice pick headaches often and that it’s a rare occurrence for you. You leave the estate’s infirmary feeling a tiny bit better and less worried about your impending doom. Speaking of impending doom, there’s something you forget about, but you don’t remember what it was.

Here you are, sitting on the swinging bench in the back of the estate with a tub of ice cream on your lap and a giant spoon in your right hand. The estate is lively as ever, with the men running outside and yelling profanities at each other. Then there’s you, sitting from a distance in the shade, eating ice cream. You wanted to participate and join in on the fun, but the heavy feeling in your chest is weighing you down and is making it hard for you to join them.

You cross your legs and hug the tub of ice cream to your chest, scooping the ice cream into your mouth and letting it melt in your mouth. This heavy feeling in your chest gives you the sudden urge to want to cry. Perhaps it's because you can’t join the others and have fun with them, or it’s the heavy feeling of jealousy that continues to cling to you like a wet t-shirt.

You sigh and stab the spoon into the strawberry ice cream. “Man, I feel like shit,” you said to yourself.

“And could it be because you’ve been avoiding Zhongli all day?” Aether asks, approaching you with Heizou and Venti by his side. Then there’s Thoma trailing behind the three of them as well, waving at you with a small smile.

You roll your eyes and pull the spoon out of the ice cream. “No, it’s not because of that, Aether. You know why,” you said, eyes lingering over to where Zhongli, Baizhu, and Lumine were sitting while chatting and watching the others chase each other. “I need to come to an agreement with myself that I’ll always be second best. Or an afterthought,” you grumble.

“I don’t know if you know this, but Lumine has been giving Zhongli an earful after you left the estate to clear your mind at Luhua Pool,” Venti says casually. He plops down beside you and takes the tub of ice cream from your lap.

Heizou nods. “She’s been scolding him quite often. I think she’s scolding him right now because that’s what she was doing before we went over to where you’re sitting,” Heizou says.

You rub your stomach and furrow your eyebrows. You’re starting to get a stomachache, and you’re pretty sure that it’s the ice cream’s fault. You’re not lactose intolerant. You’re weak, but not that weak when it comes to dairy.

Before Venti can eat the ice cream scoop, you snatch the tub from Venti’s hand and begin searching for the expiration date. The stomachache worsens, making you almost drop the tub. Your eyes land on the expiration date, and you smack yourself on the forehead.

“This thing has expired for three months now,” you deadpan.

Thoma gasps a little bit too loudly. “Oh, crap! So, that’s what I forgot to throw out!” Thoma smacks his forehead.

Thoma takes the ice cream tub from your hand and the spoon discarded on the grass. You shake your head, get up from the swinging bench and jog back into the estate. You’re not going to visit the infirmary yet. That will be the last resort if the stomachache worsens and you have non-stop diarrhea.

To be frank, you would rather blow up the toilet and have a stomachache than have to vomit. Not only do you hate throwing up, but throwing up is one of your worst fears, and you do not want to empty out your stomach all because you ate expired ice cream. Dammit! Why didn’t you check to see if the ice cream was expired before eating half of the tub?! You hope Thoma doesn’t blame himself for not throwing out the ice cream. It’s your fault for not checking the expiration date, not Thoma’s fault.

You quickly go to your bathroom, slam the door shut, lock the door, and mentally and physically prepare to obliterate the toilet because, oh boy, you can feel it coming. Needless to say, it was horrendous. After using the bathroom, you have decided to check the expiration date for everything before ingesting it.

You’re lucky that you only ate ice cream that expired three months ago and not many other expired foods. If it weren’t just ice cream, you would’ve been puking up your guts and literally shitting your pants simultaneously. It doesn’t sound pleasant, but that is the reality of ingesting expired food. That and you could potentially give yourself food poisoning or develop the symptoms of food poisoning.

You leave the bathroom, walking funny. You collapse on your bed and clutch your stomach, groaning silently. You have never shitted your guts out like that before, and you don’t want to experience it ever again. On the bright side, your stomach doesn’t hurt anymore, and you’re pretty sure you have pooped out every last bit of expired ice cream you have eaten.

A knock at the door interrupts your thoughts. You lift your head and stare at the door, watching the door crack open and Gorou peeking his head into your room. Gorou gives you a nervous smile and enters your room when you gesture for him to enter.

Itto peeks his head into your room after Gorou enters your bedroom, giving you a small smile. You wave at Itto weakly and motion for Itto to enter. You don’t want him to be standing at the door awkwardly while Gorou is conversing with you.

“I heard from Thoma that you ate expired ice cream. How are you feeling?” Gorou asks, standing at the foot of your bed.

You lay your head on your pillow and close your eyes. “At first, I felt okay. But then it hit me, and I was on the toilet for who knows how long. But right now, I’m feeling okay! My stomach isn’t hurting anymore, and I’m pretty sure I shit out my guts,” you mutter.

“That’s good to hear,” Itto leans on your desk, “everyone is downstairs checking the expiration date of every food in the kitchen and pantry right now,” Itto says.

You hear another knock coming from the door. You, Itto, and Gorou look at the door and see Childe pushing the door open after peeking his head into your room. You grab the nearest pillow and rest your head on it, watching Childe and Zhongli walk into your room. You’re kind of shocked to see Zhongli walk through the door holding a cup of tea in his hands, accompanying Childe. You sit and pat the empty spot on your bed beside you, gesturing for Childe (and maybe Zhongli if he wants to sit, but you’re not sure) to sit on the bed.

“Zhongli brewed you some tea for your stomach. You didn’t throw up or anything, did you?” Childe asks, sitting beside you.

You shake your head. “The only thing I did was shit my guts out, but that did help me with the awful stomachache I was feeling,” you answer, rubbing your stomach.

Zhongli hands the teacup over to you. “I brewed you some tea to drink that’ll help you with your stomachaches. Make sure to drink it all, alright?” Zhongli murmurs.

You reach for the teacup and quietly thank the former Geo archon. You take a sip of the tea and scrunch your face when the scorching hot tea touches your tongue. The tea didn’t taste too bad. From what you can tell, it tastes like green tea. You’ve had green tea many times back in your world, but it’s been a while since you’ve drunk it. The heat from the tea warms your stomach up, sending shivers down your spine. You made sure to drink the entire tea before handing back the empty teacup to Zhongli.

“Knock, knock!” Kaveh sing-song, earning an eye roll from Al Haitham.

“Please don’t sing,” Al Haitham deadpans, “I would rather hear the Rishboland Tigers mate than hear you sing.”

Al Haitham’s comment earns an offended gasp from the blond man. Before Kaveh can respond to Al Haitham’s statement (and insult), Cyno shoves past Al Haitham and Kaveh. Cyno turns to look at the two men behind him, who narrowed their eyes at him. Cyno rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Now is not the time to bicker over something petty,” Cyno states before looking at you, “Tighnari wanted me to tell you to come down to the infirmary to get a check-up.”

You look at Cyno incredulously. You did not plan on revisiting the infirmary today over your accidental ingestion of expired ice cream. You planned on going to the infirmary if the stomachache continued and if you continued to shit your guts out, and if you ended up puking in the toilet for a while.

You exclaim, “Again?! But I left the infirmary a few hours ago!”

Childe and Zhongli raise their eyebrows at you, simultaneously propping their hands on their hips. Oh no. Looks like you forgot to inform them about your brief visit to the estate’s infirmary after returning to the abode.

You quickly add, “The visit to the infirmary was brief! I’m okay; I didn’t get injured! Tighnari told me that it was an ice-pick headache. Since I rarely get ice pick headaches, I don’t need to go through treatments or be monitored.”

“You didn’t injure yourself, did you?” You hear Xiao ask.

You look at the door and see Xiao and Ayato standing at the entrance to your room, looking at you worriedly. You pursed your lips and shook your head. Ayato was there, so he could explain what happened to Xiao and the others (who weren’t at Luhua Pool). You’re not in the mood to re-explain the situation.

“They’re fine. They need to get some rest, though,” you hear Diluc murmur from the hallways.

You furrow your eyebrows and flop back down on your bed. Why is the solution to many problems would be getting some rest? What if you’re feeling restless? Do you need to rest harder or something?

You roll to your side and hug the closest thing to you. “What if I don’t want to get some rest? I assumed that sitting on the swinging bench in the backyard of the estate while eating ice cream counts as me getting rest,” you said.

“If you don’t want to get some rest, then what do you want to do?” Ayato asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

You hug the pillow to your chest tightly. “Well, I never got some alone time at Luhua Pool. Listen, I love all of you, I really do, but I never really got to clear my mind,” you murmur.

“Sometimes, it’s better to talk about it than sit in silence and clear your thoughts. I have an inkling feeling that whatever was occupying your thoughts earlier today is still in your mind,” Kaeya says, peeking from behind Xiao and Ayato.

You puffed your cheeks and exhaled through your nose. Kaeya is correct. Even if you claim that you were going to Luhua Pool to clear your mind, the thought of Zhongli and Guizhong continues to plague your thoughts. It’s driving you insane, and the pit in your stomach continues to grow with each passing minute. Venti throwing in the comment of how Lumine looks a tiny bit like Guizhong did something to you. You’re not upset with Lumine; you’re upset with yourself. You’re upset that you have this painful assumption that Zhongli is going to leave you for someone that reminded him of his deceased friend. It hurts, and you’re trying your best not to let your insecurities and jealousy create a rift between you and Lumine.

After you had left for Luhua Pool, Lumine scolded Zhongli and Venti. She was close to hitting them with a pan, but Aether held her back. Instead, she gave them an earful. Specifically, Zhongli himself because she knows how much it has affected you and how you’re worried that he doesn’t care about you as much as he cares about someone that is long gone.

You sit on your bed and begin running your fingers through your fuzzy blanket. “Can I write it down instead? I don’t think I’ll be able to talk about it without feeling frustrated with myself and bursting into tears,” you whisper, eyes trained on the blankets in front of you.

“As long as you tell us what’s wrong. We’re not mind readers, sweetheart,” Dainsleif says.

You didn’t question the number of people popping in and out of your bedroom. Instead, you kept quiet and let Dainsleif pull you into his arms, allowing you to bury your face into the crook of his neck.

You whisper, “I hate feeling helpless. I’m trying my best not to let my feelings and insecurities get to me, but I can’t help it. It’s driving me insane, and I feel powerless against my thoughts.” You play with Dainsleif’s shirt, refusing to make eye contact with the men in the room.

“It’s about the God of Dust and the God of Contracts relationship, isn’t it?” Scaramouche asks, breaking the silence in your room.

Dainsleif feels you tense in his arms, yet you don’t respond to Scaramouche’s question. While Scaramouche is correct, you wish he didn’t say that out loud in front of everyone. You would rather deal with this topic of conversation with Zhongli alone. This is between you and Zhongli, and everyone knows that.

“We’ll give you two some space,” Kazuha says slowly.

Kazuha and the other men start to trickle out of your bedroom one by one. Dainsleif unwraps his arms around you and presses a kiss on your cheek before getting up to leave your room. You nearly reach out to Dainsleif to prevent him from going, but seeing the look on Zhongli’s face makes you stop.

Pierro nods to you before closing the door once everyone (except for Zhongli) has left your bedroom. You continue to stare at the door like a deer caught in headlights, too nervous to look at Zhongli. You can feel Zhongli’s gaze burning holes into your skull. You’re not sure who’s going to be the first one to break the silence between the two of you, but you know for sure that you won’t be the one to do that.

Zhongli walks over to where you’re sitting. The closer he got, the louder your heart was beating against your ears. You and Zhongli talked about this a few days ago. Yet, you can’t get it through your thick skull because of your jealousy and insecurity over his friendship with Guizhong. How many times does Zhongli have to reassure you so that you would not hold a grudge against someone deceased? At this point, you’re in need of therapy for all of the past traumas that led you to where you’re at right now.

Zhongli sits beside you, keeping a small distance between the two of you. Zhongli doesn’t want to upset you any further by sitting close to you to the point where his thighs are brushing against yours. Your heart is thumping against your chest, and you feel nervous. If Zhongli is going to tell you that you have nothing to worry about, you don’t know what else to say. You love Zhongli as much as you love your twenty-four other boyfriends. You know they all love you, but sometimes you question if Zhongli cares about you at all.

Zhongli breaks the silence between the two of you. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I don’t want you to hide your feelings and worries from me,” Zhongli murmurs.

You press your lips into a thin line, unsure of how else to respond to him. You fear if you tell him about your concerns, Zhongli will roll his eyes and brush it off. Just like how every person you come across in your world. Your concerns mean nothing to them, and they never will.

You shrug your shoulders and laugh sarcastically. “It’s something we talked about a few days ago, Zhongli,” you reply.

You look at the bandages that are wrapped around your body. The burns you have gotten from the scalding hot water that was poured all over you. Dottore, Tighnari, Albedo, and Baizhu have been gradually healing your burns. They’ll wrap your (healing) burns gauze after applying ointment on the burns. You’re healing, it almost looks like nothing is there, nor did you have a burn in the first place.

Zhongli shakes his head. “You and I didn’t talk it out. We as a group did, but I want it to just be you and I discussing this,” Zhongli replies, crossing his arms over his chest and turning to you.

You get up from your bed and begin taking your bandages off. The scars are barely there, and thanks to Qiqi, you almost look like your usual self! Perhaps two or three days from now, you should be completely healed of your injuries. You toss the bandages into the trash can and rub at the ointment.

“What do you want me to say, Zhongli? That my behavior a few days ago at Guizhong’s abandoned abode was childish and unnecessary?” You ask, throwing your hands in the air out of frustration. “Because if you are, you’re correct. It’s childish and unnecessary,” you rub your temples.

You walk to your desk and collapse on the chair, running your fingers through your hair. You don’t want to talk about it, but it was inevitable. You would rather talk to a therapist about this than Zhongli because having to talk about it is embarrassing.

“I hate getting jealous over your friendship with Guizhong. Yes, I know you two are just friends, nothing more and nothing less, but I can’t help but let my insecurity get the best of me. I tried to ignore it, but I can’t, and it’s very frustrating,” you look at the ground, swallowing the forming lump in your throat.

Fuck. You’re starting to tear up. You let yourself stare off into space, blinking away the tears pooling in your eyes. You try to distract yourself from the negativity that’s plaguing your mind: Zhongli constantly thinking about the woman that was once in his life, Zhongli possibly leaving you for someone that looks like the deceased God of Dust, Zhongli not caring about you as much as he does for the woman that had perished long ago.

A stray tear made its way down your cheek. “I know I shouldn’t worry or question everyone’s feeling for me, but my insecurity and overthinking makes me question everything,” you chuckle bitterly. You wipe your tears with the back of your hand.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Zhongli says softly.

He gets up from your bed and makes his way toward you. You shake your head at Zhongli’s comment. What’s the point of stopping now when you have already started talking about it?

You gulp and attempt to hold back your tears, but the tears continue to roll down your cheeks.

“I never had anyone care about me as much as you care about Guizhong. Friend or not, you still care about her and keep her memories alive by talking about her and what she has done. I wish I have someone that cares about me as much as you care about her,” you rest your head on your knees, letting your tears stain your pants.

Your body shakes as you cry into your lap, refusing to sit straight when you sense Zhongli stopping in front of you. You dig your nails into your legs, trying to stifle your sobs, only for them to come out as sniffles and choked gasps. You feel Zhongli grab you by your biceps, carefully pulling you up and to his chest. You wanted to resist and pull away from his grasp, but you didn’t do it. You let Zhongli wrap his arms around your waist and wipe your tears away while you grip his shirt tightly.

“People never think about me in my world. I’m either their second choice, an afterthought, or they never think about me.” You rest your head against Zhongli’s chest, listening to his heart beating against his chest. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you care about Guizhong more than me. I would pick her over me if I can,” you mutter.

Zhongli grasps your chin and tilts your head, looking into your eyes. He’s glaring at you. Your bottom lip trembles as tears continue to slide down your cheeks. Archons, you most likely look like a mess in Zhongli’s eyes.

“Guizhong is a close friend of mine. I hold her dear to my heart,” Zhongli says.

You feel your heart breaking after hearing Zhongli’s response. You try to look away from Zhongli, but he has a firm grasp on your chin. Zhongli shakes his head, sighing.

“But I don’t hold her close to my heart as much as I do with you,” Zhongli murmurs. “Yes, she is my friend, and I miss her, but I learned to accept that she’s no longer with us. You, on the other hand, are the present. You mean the world to me, and I would kill anyone and anything that harms you,” Zhongli says, cupping your face in his hands.

You sniffle and close your eyes, leaning your head on his chest. “That still doesn’t change that you care about her more than you care about me.”

Zhongli sighs and presses his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “Stop saying that, [Y/N]. I care about you more than I care about Guizhong. You need to understand that, dearest,” Zhongli murmurs.

You close your eyes and whisper, “Then prove it. Prove to me that you care more about me than you care about Guizhong.”

You and Zhongli open your eyes and gaze at each other intently. Zhongli closes his eyes and presses his lips against yours. Your eyes shut, and you reluctantly kiss Zhongli back, feeling him hold your head in place. Zhongli backs you up toward your bed until the back of your knees hits the bedframe. You fall back and look at Zhongli, gulping when you see Zhongli start to tug and pull at his tie. If that’s not the most attractive thing you’ve seen today, then you don’t know what is.

The first thing that came off was his coat, then his tie and button-up shirt soon accompanied his tailcoat that was discarded on the floor of your bedroom. Zhongli bites the tip of his glove and tugs it off while you stare at him with your mouth slightly ajar. Dammit! You’re supposed to be upset with Zhongli right now, not very horny for the ex-archon! Zhongli unbuckles his belt with one hand while pulling you to the edge of your bed by your ankles with his other hand. You feel yourself become flustered under his heated gaze.

Before you can say anything, Zhongli cages you between your bed and his body. Zhongli presses his lips against yours, his right hand sliding up your shirt before squeezing your breasts lightly. You tangle your fingers in Zhongli’s soft hair (he has really soft hair), your hand slowly snaking down to his ponytail and pulling on it. Zhongli groans into your mouth, pressing his erection against your core, causing you to jolt and whimper in his arms.

Zhongli breaks the kiss before pressing his lips against your neck, licking, sucking, and lightly biting your neck. Zhongli kneels on your bed before sliding his other hand up your shirt, squeezing and fondling your breasts. You throw your head back, pressing your chest against Zhongli’s chest. The sound of your pants and small whimpers fill the quiet air between you and Zhongli. While you’re distracted by the feeling of Zhongli sucking on your neck and fondling your breasts, a loud rip echo in the room.

You lift your head to see Zhongli tossing away the fabric of your shirt over his shoulders, still occupied with leaving love bites all over your neck. You run your hands all over Zhongli’s torso, feeling his muscles ripple beneath your hands. This man is built like a god! Wait a minute. He is a god. How could that slip your mind? Zhongli pulls away from your neck and grabs onto your pants and panties, looping his fingers around the waistband before yanking both your pants and underwear down to your ankles.

“H-Hey! I can’t be the only one that’s naked!” You sputter, heat rushing to your cheeks as you try to cover your naked body from his eyes.

Zhongli ignores your comment and continues to drop on his knees in front of your sopping-wet heat. Zhongli licks his lips at the sight, grabs your waist, and pulls you toward him. Zhongli latches his mouth on your entrance and begins swirling his tongue and lapping at your juices while gripping your thighs. If it weren’t for Zhongli holding your thighs, your thighs would’ve clamped over his head, trapping him between your legs.

Zhongli continues to devour you, letting his fingers ghost over the small ball of nerve. You twitch and grip Zhongli’s hair, whimpering and quivering in Zhongli’s hold. Zhongli pinches and twists the sensitive ball of nerve with his thumb and index finger, making you jolt and let out a choked gasp. Your toes curl, your back arches, and your tongue lolls out of your mouth when Zhongli penetrates his tongue into your entrance.

“Zhongli~! Stop teasing me, and just fuck me already!” You whine, gently tugging at the roots of his hair.

Zhongli pulls away from your heat and chuckles, licking your juices off his lips before kissing the inside of your thighs. You take deep gulps of air, trying to catch your breath and process what had happened moments ago. Zhongli knows how to put his mouth to work. Literally, not just by talking about the history of Liyue and the Archon War. Zhongli stands up and unzips his pants, pulling his pants and boxers along with them.

You stare at Zhongli with wide eyes and mouth wide open. You point at Zhongli’s cock and shake your head. There is no way in hell he’s going to fit inside of you with one cock, let alone two huge cocks. Speaking of his two huge cocks, they’re both erect, red at the tips, pre-cum beading at the slit of his pretty cocks. You never thought you would consider calling dicks beautiful, yet here you are. You look away from the Liyuen man, face hot. You tap on your cheek and poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue.

“Zhongli, my love, I think you left out one key piece of information about yourself before we started dating,” you said casually. “I’m sure the men have one…. Dick…. But you, my dear, loving boyfriend… have two dicks,” you choke.

Zhongli strips what’s left of his clothes and climbs onto your bed, hovering above you. You didn’t look at Zhongli’s face, no. You’re staring at Zhongli’s two massive cocks that are pointed right in your direction, dripping with pre-cum and waiting to be inside of you. Oh, dear Archons, how in the world are you going to take two of his cocks?! Is he going to put both of them in one hole, or is he going to put one of his dicks in one of your holes and the other dick in your other hole? How is this going to work exactly?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you feel Zhongli brush the tip of his nose against your jaws, his breath ghosting over your neck and jaws.

“You’re not overthinking again, are you?” Zhongli murmurs, brushing his thumb against your jaws.

You close your eyes and hold your breath, unsure of how to respond to Zhongli. First of all, yes, you’re overthinking, but not about Guizhong or Lumine looking a tiny bit like the God of Dust. Second of all, how can Zhongli act so casually when he did a meat reveal of a fucking lifetime?

You gulp and laugh breathlessly. “I don’t think you’ll fit,” you mutter, peeking down at Zhongli’s angry red cocks.

“Human bodies are capable of carrying babies and pushing an infant out from the uterus and birth canal,” Zhongli says casually.

You look at Zhongli, who looks back at you. While Zhongli is not wrong about that, birthing is pushing something out. This one, however, is Zhongli pushing two of his cocks inside of one (or two) holes.

“Do you not want me to….” you trail off, unsure of how to finish the sentence.

Zhongli cocks an eyebrow at you. “Do you want to try to suck on my cocks?” Zhongli asks, the corner of his lips curving up.

You gape at Zhongli like a fish out of water. “I-I can try!” You squeak, eyes darting down to his two cocks. Dear archons, they look intimidating. “I can’t promise you I’ll do a good job at it, especially when there are two,” you clear your throat.

Zhongli leans back against the headboard of your bed. You crawl toward Zhongli and kneel between his spread legs. Zhongli’s cocks are erect, throbbing for attention. You reach forward and grab onto the cock above the other, causing Zhongli to hiss softly. You quickly pull your hands back, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Did I hurt you?!” You ask.

Zhongli shakes his head, gritting his teeth. “No, dearest, you didn’t hurt me,” Zhongli grunts.

You take a deep breath and grab both of his cocks with your hands and begin stroking them. Zhongli’s eyes roll to the back of his head while he emits a deep groan from his chest. You stare at both of his cocks intently, debating which cocks you’re going to be sucking on and which one you’ll be pumping with your hands— the one on top or the one below that?

You lean down and take Zhongli’s cock into your mouth while pumping his second cock with your hand. Your tongue laps over the bulbous tip of his cock, coating the top cock in your saliva while gently squeezing and pumping the cock below it. Other than the sound of you slobbering all over Zhongli’s cocks (and occasionally switching between the two), the sound of Zhongli’s labored breaths and his quiet grunts is all you can hear.

Zhongli pulls your hair into a ponytail, pushing your head down further until the tip of your nose is pressing up against his pubes. You squeeze your eyes shut, whimpering when the tip of Zhongli’s cock touches the back of your throat, almost making you gag. Zhongli lets out the loudest groan when he feels the walls of your throat tightening around his cock. Zhongli can feel his impending orgasm. Zhongli pulls you off his cock before he can reach his orgasm, panting.

You wipe your lips and the forming tears in the corner of your eyes. Zhongli reaches forward and pulls you toward his chest before flipping you over onto your back. You squeeze your eyes shut to process how your world suddenly turned upside down. Zhongli grabs your chin, tilts your head up, and you slowly open your eyes. Zhongli’s amber eyes are glowing; he gazes at you with lust, love, and desire.

“Are you ready?” Zhongli murmurs, leaning his head toward your neck and planting gentle kisses.

You nod, wrapping your arms around Zhongli’s neck. “Please be gentle with me, Zhongli,” you whisper.

Zhongli presses one last kiss on your neck before spreading your legs apart. Zhongli starts rubbing both his cocks between your legs, the tip of his dick brushing against your throbbing bundle of nerves. You dig your nails into Zhongli’s back when you feel the tips of his cocks penetrating your entrance.

Zhongli slowly sinks into your wet cavern, clenching his jaws when your walls wrap tightly around his cock. You shut your eyes and bite down on your lips, trying to hold in your whimper. The feeling of being stretched out by both of Zhongli’s cock is painful. Zhongli clutches onto the back of your neck with his right hand and wraps his left arm around your waist before pressing his hips against yours.

Your mouth opens in a silent scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, a strained groan and whimper coming from you. You wrap your legs around Zhongli’s waist, clawing his back and leaving angry red marks in its wake.

“Z-Zhongli! Be gentle!” You whine, digging your heels into his ass cheeks.

Zhongli stays still, both of his cocks twitching inside of you. Zhongli massages your scalp, pressing kisses all over your neck and face while you’re trying to adjust to having both of his cocks inside of you. Your chest is heaving, your eyebrows are furrowing, and occasional whimpers can be heard coming from you.

Zhongli feels you shake your head.

“I don’t think I can take it, Zhongli,” you whisper, unintentionally tensing your legs.

Zhongli shushes you, pressing a kiss on the side of your head. “You’ll be okay. Just relax and don’t tense up. If you tense up, it’ll only make it painful for yourself,” Zhongli murmurs.

Zhongli shifts, stretching your hole wider. You whimper and tighten your legs around his waist to stop him from moving and stretching you when you haven’t adjusted to his size yet.

“Ow, ow! Zhongli!” You hissed.

Zhongli mutters an apology, pressing his lips on the crown of your head. Both you and Zhongli stay still for a few minutes, letting you adjust to having both of his cocks inside you. You gradually let your legs relax around Zhongli’s waist, feeling yourself getting used to the size and feel of his dicks inside you. Zhongli slowly moves his waist against yours, rubbing his pubic bone against your sensitive ball of nerves. You grunt and squeeze your thighs around Zhongli’s hips, thighs quivering.

You gently squeeze his biceps. “You can move now,” you whisper.

Zhongli props himself on his biceps, caging you between his arms and your bed. Zhongli slowly pulls out from your entrance. You whimper, your hole tightening when Zhongli pulls his cock out from your heat. Zhongli pauses, leaving only the mushroom tip of his cocks inside of you. Zhongli looks at where the two of you are connected, then looks at you. You nod, signaling him to start. Zhongli slides his cocks back into you, emitting a loud, choked gasp from you. You clutch onto his bicep with one hand and your bedsheets with your other hand. Zhongli begins with a steady pace, his cocks hitting the deepest part inside of you.

You pull Zhongli down, making him lie on top of you. You and Zhongli trade kisses, teeth clashing against each other. Zhongli breaks the kiss and forces your mouth open before spitting into your mouth. You stare at Zhongli with wide eyes, mouth ajar. You close your mouth and swallow, earning a smirk from the man above you.

Zhongli grabs your hair and proceeds to press his lips against yours while plunging his cock in and out of your sopping entrance. The sound of skin slapping, Zhongli’s grunts, your breathless whines, and your bedframe hitting against the wall is all you can hear. You roll your hips against Zhongli’s hips while he is mid-thrust, allowing the tip of his cocks to hit your cervix.

“Fuck!” You whine, your back arching and your entrance fluttering around his cocks.

You continue to roll your hips against Zhongli’s hips while he hammers his dicks in and out of your wet heat. Zhongli reaches for your right leg and throws them over his shoulder. The new position lets Zhongli’s cocks kiss your cervix. Zhongli slams his hips against yours, and you writhe beneath Zhongli, no longer able to contain your whimpers, whines, and gasps.

The more Zhongli continues to thrust his members in and out of your entrance, the closer you get to your orgasm. A tight coil begins to form in your lower abdomen, making you tighten around his cocks. Panicking, you tap on Zhongli’s shoulders.

“Zhongli, Zhongli. I’m about to cum,” You whine, rubbing your groin against Zhongli’s pubic bone.

Zhongli quickens his pace when he hears you telling him how close you are to cumming. Zhongli’s orgasm is near; he can feel it. Zhongli presses his nose against where your neck and shoulders meet, breathing in your scent. Zhongli purrs and latches his mouth to that area, biting down hard. You cry out in pain and pleasure, the velvety walls of your entrance clamping down on Zhongli’s cock. Your vision goes white, your ears ring, and you become limp in Zhongli’s arms.

Zhongli’s cum shoots deep inside your hole, filling you to the brim. Zhongli slowly removes his teeth from where your neck and shoulder meet, lapping his tongue at the blood that oozes from the bite mark. Zhongli collapses beside you. Zhongli wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to his chest without pulling his cocks out from your hole, plugging his and your cum with his cock.

You mumble incoherently, rubbing your eyes sleepily when you come to your senses. Zhongli props himself up with his right arm and gazes at you worriedly, caressing your face. You blink up at Zhongli sleepily and smile at him shyly, your face heating up with embarrassment. You lost consciousness for a few seconds when you had an earth-shattering orgasm.

“Are you okay, dearest?” Zhongli murmurs, stroking your cheek.

You nod and snuggle against him, shuddering when you feel his cocks inside you. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sleepy, though,” you reply.

Zhongli kisses your temples, reaching for your blanket and throwing it over your and his body. “You should get some rest. I think I pushed you past your limit,” Zhongli says.

You close your eyes, getting ready to fall asleep in his arms while he lies beside you. Zhongli’s chest is pressing up against your bare back. Zhongli is gently rubbing your hipbone while your head is resting on his biceps, slowly dozing off. Before you can fall asleep, someone pounds on your closed bedroom door, startling both you and Zhongli.

“Hey! We left the room to give you two some privacy to talk it out! Not fuck each other’s brains out!” Childe screams from the other side of the door.

You and Zhongli hear Itto groan. “Why does Zhongli always get the first dibs?!” Itto groused.

You snort and continue to snuggle against Zhongli. Zhongli kisses the back of your head and continues to rub your hipbones. You adjust your position and wince when you feel your and Zhongli’s mixed cum oozing from your entrance and spilling onto the bedsheets.

“Looks like I’ll be cleaning the bedsheets after my nap,” you mumble, reaching for Zhongli’s hands and lacing your fingers with his, and closing your eyes.

Zhongli chuckles and pulls you up against his chest, his hands slowly snaking up to your breasts, squeezing them gently. You crack your eyes open and look at Zhongli from the corner of your eyes.

“You’re not hoping for a round two now, are you?” You ask.

Zhongli doesn’t respond. Instead, he keeps his eyes closed before lightly thrusting his hips against yours. You groan when you feel the tip of his cocks nudging your cervix. Looks like you won’t be getting that nap you were hoping for.

Note: And here is the first smut of 2023! Not the best, but you know what, it's good to attempt it again after almost two months. There is this one request that I got that can be turned into another smut series like Crave, only it's different... kind of. I might get started on that soon, but since it's a request that involves all of the Genshin men, it will most likely turn into a smut series like Crave. Taglists are officially closed! I might make an updated version of the taglist sometime in the future, but I'm not entirely sure when exactly. I'm not checking Tumblr as often, but I will try to check it more once I (hopefully) open up my ask box. Another thing I want to add is that I'm not accepting requests at the moment. I'll let you all know when I am, but right now, requests are closed. Anyway, to my new or returning readers, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @xyji, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kwelibeeery, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @honeybedo, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @alteeeeyang, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @bajifairyy, @heyimkay, @milkpeanuts476, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @wynncrites, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

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bahllinsqrews · 5 months

Text

Keeping A Kitten!

Yandere Riki Nishimura, Victim!Reader

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Ni-ki comes home to hear noises coming from upstairs, sounds like you're breaking something. He can't have his little kitten escaping, the hunt for you is on.

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This is just fiction, I normally won't do ones like these unless it's requested, but please keep these types to a minimum as I want to make sweet stories of him later on.

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Rough smut

Punishment underway

Bondage with chains

Yandere Riki Nishimura

Reader with a choking, and pain kink

Use of whip

Cowgirl Position

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The winter air was bitter, you were in chains around the house thanks to someone who had been stalking you for the longest time. He finally had you, all to himself and it made him smile. More than killing all those people who attempted to get to you. You were his and his alone. He had gotten home and heard noises from the top of the stairs, his eyes twitched at the chains on the floor, quickly realizing what was going on.

His voice was soft, but you could feel the anger seething through it all. You got the window open, jumping out, seconds before he reached out and grabbed you, his fist just barely making it as he huffed out. But one thing you forgot to take into account, was his speed. While you were running, he had given you a headstart before making his way to the door, following your footprints, he ran after you, making it to the forest that blocked the house off by the darkness.

You feared for your life, his chuckle filled the air around you as you covered your mouth shut. But of course, as you turned to check the trees, you didn't see him until you turned and saw the man behind you with an evil grin. "There you are...my kitten!~" he said to you before grabbing you by the throat and holding you tight. You tried not to show it, but you were feeling small tingles just below your stomach, he didn't miss that. He kept you in his hold until you passed out. You only woke up later, sitting on a chair facing backwards, naked. Your clothing was neatly folded on the table beside you and your body was chained down, your back presented to him. You jolted as he growled low in your ear, hands exploring your frame as he took in your scent, soft violin music playing in the background, your favorite song you used to play on piano.

His hands found his way to your breasts, pinches and gently groping your nipples. He almost drooled at how you quivered in the chair, helpless. "I would love to say that I would let you off the hook, but for escaping, I need to punish you~" he cooed before walking off, grabbing a small whip off the table and letting the first one crack a red strip on your back, it made you gasp uncontrollably, shaking already as you attempted to hold back a moan. "I want you to count them, if I don't hear you or if you talk back, I'll start over." He told you and you counted out each one by his request.

CRACK!!

"Two..."

WHIP!!

"Three..!"

Each one you took made you drench the chair under you in your love juices, he didn't skip that either, it made him hard to know about your pain kink so he turned it up a notch when he gave you the next three, you counted them too. The burning ecstasy you had to endure because you tried to get away. Your body felt like it was on fire with every hit of the whip.

CRACK!!

"Four...!"

WHIP!!

"Five...hah~"

SMACK!!

"Six...~"

He got to 10 whips overtime and you were crying but not in pain, in sheer pleasure. He moved toward you again, using his larger hand down to your clit to play with it and it made you lean back into him, he caught on your slick and took the chains off your hands, carrying you a little before sitting on the couch, you kneeling over his slouched position in cowgirl. Your mind was in shambles, he knew every inch of you from top to bottom and you couldn't escape that. You were a fool to try and run from a guy that knew you too well. Your eyes read 'Fuck me!' to him so he pulled out his hardened member and let you have at it, you riding him with his grip on your arms so you didn't fall off, your noises making him want to rail you into the cushions but he thought this would be a reward for taking your punishment so well, he picked up the pace. Every so often, he'd put the pain back up and give you heavy slaps on your ass, making you jerk backwards and almost fall again, he made sure to hold you tight as you wringed every last drop from him, resting in his arms when you were done.

"I'm sorry..." You say, he kissed your head and held you tight. "It's alright dear, just don't do it again, okay?" He said and you only nodded, smiling as you snuggled into him for the night.

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Yandere Niki smut order done! Please reblog, comment what you think, and like the story to save it! My ask box is open for any wants, please keep in mind the Masterlist rules!

#kpop #smut #enhypen #enhypen nishimura riki #enhypen smut #niki smut #winter #winter themed #yandere

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actual-changeling · 11 months

Text

The first week back in Jackson is a gray blur, and Ellie spends most of it asleep, usually in Joel's bed, sometimes in hers, and on occasion even on the living room couch. A lifetime of exhaustion she hasn't been aware of catches up with her, and no matter how many hours of sleep she gets, its weight remains the same.

Their second week looks pretty much the same, with marginally more time spent outside their bedrooms, but Joel is just as burdened with fatigue as she is, and there is not much they can do when keeping their eyes open takes up all the energy they have. They eat, they sleep, Ellie screams her way out of nightmares, and before either of them is fully aware of it, a whole month has passed and spring is fully blooming in the valley around them.

Maybe that's when it starts, once Joel leaves her behind with a kiss to her hair and a promise to be back soon to go on patrol or help out Tommy with whatever odd jobs they can find - the waiting.

First, it's for him to return, and she reads and draws until she runs out of books and paper, and then she sleeps some more (badly without him around). But the calm quiet that has settled into their house doesn't last long, and soon Ellie finds herself expecting something entirely different.

Neither of them has ever been good at standing still, and she starts pacing before he does, counting the steps across the living room and up the stairs, the seconds it takes her to get to the front door from every possible point of the house, how long it would take her to get to him, and how much time she would have to hide if someone came in through the back, the front, or the roof.

Ellie paces, and once the house starts feeling like a cage, she paces some more.

When will we leave?

She wants to ask him about it every night, watching him while he chats about his day like it is the most normal thing in the world.

When are we going to start running again?

The waiting leaves her lips raw and her cuticles bloody. She starts keeping her knife in her pocket throughout the day, then the night, too, and eventually her bag is packed and ready underneath her bed.

Joel starts leaving his books all over the house, and there's a half-carved guitar in the corner of the living room. He fills his closet and tries to fill hers, too, and she lets him, not that she cares much. There are weekly family dinners and people greeting him on the street, and with every day that slows him down, she becomes more tense.

We can't stay, becomes I can't stay, becomes I don't know how to stay.

When he starts asking questions, she doesn't know how to respond. She doesn't know how to tell him that she is not finished yet and that there has to be more to this than monotonous days and safe patrols, more to her.

All she was, all she could have been, is scattered between Boston and Wyoming, a mountain of ash in Colorado, and school four days a week and more books than she can read aren't enough to fill any of the holes left behind.

Relax, learn how to breathe, becomes we can help you.

Ellie tries, she really does, once she realizes that Joel has no intention of leaving and that for him, this is it, and he is it for her. So she stays.

She learns how to count her breaths instead of steps, how to slow down, how to sleep better, and how to walk down the street without watching her back. It's something, a life she never thought she could have but also one she isn't made for, and Ellie is aware that she never quite fits the way everyone else seems to want her to. Joel does not mind, though, not when she counts floorboards and wall tiles and the time it takes her to sneak down the stairs.

After four months, Ellie discovers the bag Joel keeps in the cupboard under the stairs and the gun in the living room cabinet. There might be family breakfasts and day jobs, but his hands curl into fists over and over and over. They leave their house together, and she is on his right, and he turns his head, looks around, checks his back, and they don't talk about the gun hidden beneath his jacket or the knife in her pocket.

We won't leave, they decide, and Ellie knows he is lying at least a little bit when he says it's fine, and Joel knows she is, too, when she says okay.

He watches, she paces, and although they stand still, they're both always just a little out of breath.

#alex writes tlou #the last of us #tlou #joel and ellie #ellie williams #joel miller #ficlet #they both have ptsd and problems adjusting #what else is new

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satelliteddie · 2 years

Text

boyfriends - s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: after steve turns to alcohol to help soothe his memories from the last couple of years, you try to get him to open up about his past.

content warnings: angst, alcohol consumption, couple in turmoil, arguments, language

word count: 3.2k

author’s notes: hello this features best friend!eddie, emphasis on best friend, anyways only one more left in the series!!! :’)

Boyfriends

They think you're so easy

They take you for granted

They don't know they're just misunderstanding you

You, you're back at it again

Steve Harrington was the most caring, kind, selfless boyfriend you could have asked for. He held your hand while he drove, his thumb stroking over the back of your knuckles. He rented new movies from Family Video before anyone could spoil them for you. He always wore that one cologne you told him you loved one time. His lips somehow constantly found your forehead or temple when he hugged you. Steve was perfect until one empty beer became two, three, and four. At first you didn’t know he was drinking, but slowly he became more distant and abrasive about everything. Simple questions turned to arguments, touches became flinches, walks around the block merged with walks to the bar, and nothing seemed to be right anymore. All his bottled up emotions and trauma from his past seemed to spill out of him as soon as he emptied a bottle. These repressed memories couldn’t break him, he wouldn’t allow it, so instead he got angry. Angry at the world, his past, his friends, his family, and you. You never meant to make him angry – he knew that – but when you asked the questions he couldn’t answer, he snapped.

“God, you’re ridiculous,” Steve spits, his words laced with venom. “Talking about this shit isn’t going to help.”

“How do you know that, Steve? You just drink all the time until you accidentally talk about it—and even then you shut down. You can’t keep it inside anymore…it’s killing you.”

“Well I’m still here,” he laughs sarcastically. “If it was supposed to kill me, it would have by now.”

“Steve,” you plead. You sit at the kitchen counter, tracing shapes in the condensation on your water glass. Steve stares daggers at you from across the room, standing next to the fridge. Another beer bottle hangs from his hands, he angrily sips from it every time you speak. He had come home again with bruises and bandages covering his skin, your worried looks immediately caused him to open a beer. Logically, Steve knew you cared for him deeply which is why you worried, but instead he took it entirely wrong. Seeing the way your doe-eyes looked over him, he wanted to shake the worry from you and tell you he’s always been on his own and he didn’t need your sympathy. You flick your eyes up again him again, “please just-”

“Just what? God, you live in this fucking daydream and it’s not realistic!” Steve tosses his now empty beer bottle into the sink. The glass clatters against the metal as he turns back to face you, “I can’t be a perfect boyfriend all the time for you, that’s what’s killing me.”

“Steve, I’m not asking you to be perfect,” you feel your pulse rising with each word you speak. “I just want you to talk to me.”

Steve mutters your name as he wipes his hands down his face, “I can’t do this,” he grabs another beer from the fridge and pops the cap off. “We’re just not realistic anymore. We don't work,” Steve shrugs as if his words didn’t just halt your world.

“You don’t mean that, Steve. You’re drunk,” you reply as you feel tears building up. You refuse to look at him now, your glass in front of you suddenly becoming more interesting.

“I’m not even tipsy. Hell, I’m practically sober,” Steve turns away from the kitchen and takes the stairs two at a time up to his room. You hear his bedroom door shut from above you, your body slumps forward onto the counter as silent tears stream down your cheeks.

Weakened

When you get deep in

He starts secretly drinking

It gets hard to know what he's thinking

You love a fool who knows just how to get under your skin

You, you, you still open the door

You left Steve’s house in a blur, your only focus was to get out of there before he saw you crying. You weren’t worried he would yell, Steve never yells during arguments. He just knows how to make you feel worse with an even tone. You were worried he would crumble if he saw you upset; that’s how it always was…he would take back his words and pull you back in. He knows just how to get under your skin, and maybe you wanted him to. You also knew that if he apologized in the way that was classic Steve, you would forgive him. He was hurting, physically and mentally, he needed help — but you didn’t deserve to take the brunt of it. You raise a weak fist to the front door and knock; you hear shuffling inside before the door swings open. You wipe under your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater, looking up with blurry vision.

“What the fuck did he do?” Eddie sternly asks, pulling you to his chest. He shuts the door to the trailer taking you inside with him. “Hey,” he encourages you to look at him. “What happened?”

You fall apart as you start to tell Eddie about Steve; if there’s anyone who can understand what it’s like to come back from the Upside Down with scars, it’s Eddie. You sit cross legged on Eddie’s bed as he paces while you talk. He nods along as you explain how Steve is so lost in his own mind that you can’t find the real him anymore.

“Eddie,” you sniffle, wiping away your tears. “I don’t know what to do. I love him, but when he drinks he loses sight of things. He just uses it to mask the pain he’s feeling, it’s not healthy.”

Eddie gives a somber smile, “if there’s someone who knows a thing or two about using alcohol to cope, it’s me.” He laughs lightly, “listen I don’t know Harrington nearly as well as you do, but that guy loves you. He doesn’t know how to cope with the things he’s gone through, but it has nothing— and I mean, nothing— to do with you. He’s an idiot if he is projecting his anger that way.” Eddie tilts his head to make sure you look at him, “I will sooner believe we landed on the moon than that you are the root of Steve’s issues.”

“Eddie, we did land—”

“That’s not my point,” Eddie rolls his eyes, dropping down to sit next to you on the bed. “He’s a strong dude, but he can only take so much. For me, alcohol was a good distraction until it wasn’t.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, “what do you mean?”

“Alcohol only represses so much. When you sober up it all comes back, even worse. Drinking like that isn’t helping him,” Eddie sighs, placing a gentle hand on your thigh. “Sadly, you’re not going to be able to talk some sense into him until he sobers up.”

You're no closer to him

Now you're halfway home

Only calling you when

Don't wanna be alone

Oh, and you go

Why? You don't know

“I’m not letting you in,” Eddie’s gruff voice startles you awake. After pouring your heart out to Eddie, he refused to let you leave his sight for more than ten minutes. You spent the night at Eddie’s, too tired to go home or back to Steve’s. You had no idea how long you’d be asleep for, but the sun now is starting to rise back into the sky, the rays cutting into Eddie’s room. You groan as you sit up, your eyes swollen and dry from crying. Eddie's trailer is cozy, but small and the boys’ voices carry easily to the bedroom. “Harrington, please go.”

“Just let me talk to her,” Steve asks, his voice wavering. “Eddie please, I know she’s here.”

You stand from the bed and hover in the doorway, slowly stepping into the hallway.

“It doesn’t matter if she’s here or not,” Eddie replies. “You shouldn’t talk to her like that or treat her the way you do. Drinking isn’t an excuse.” You reach the end of the short hall, sticking to the wall to stay out of view of both Eddie and Steve. Steve is waiting on Eddie’s steps, one hand holding open the front door as Eddie is actively trying to shut it. Your eyes dart around, watching Steve run a frustrated hand through his hair as he steps into the doorway.

“Fuck,” he tugs at his roots. “I know. I know. I’m so screwed up, now I’m pushing her away. She doesn’t deserve that, I fucked up, Eddie.” You try to step closer to the wall, but the floor creaks under your feet causing both of them to turn to you. Eddie tries to send you silent signals, but when he fails he finally asks, “what do you want me to do?”

You hesitate, stepping away from the wall and into the small living room. “Just let him in,” you decide with a harsh swallow. Your throat is dry, eyes are puffy, and skin is tired, but you suddenly can’t feel any of it when Steve looks at you. Even though you’re still upset with him, seeing Steve suddenly makes you feel safe. His hazel eyes are kind and blood shot (evidence that he too was crying). Eddie shifts his weight between his legs, trying to figure out where to go next. He settles on pushing the door open wider as Steve slips inside. Eddie nods to you once before shutting the door; he brushes past you, giving your shoulder a tender squeeze as he disappears to his room.

You stand with your back leaning against the small kitchen nook, your arms crossed over your chest as Steve lingers by the closed door. He looks like he’s going to make a break for it at any moment, and you’re not sure you’d stop him if he did.

Steve takes a deep breath in, “Y/N-”

“Did you drink?”

“No,” Steve answers before you even finish your question. “I only had one beer last night, I threw the other one out. I swear," his eyes are cloudy. He’s hesitant as he steps away from the door towards you, “baby.”

You step back, pulling your arms around your chest even tighter. Steve’s eyes flicker around your body, worry gracing all of his features. Steve feels his heart sink to his stomach as you refuse to look at him. Did I fuck up this bad? He wonders, his heart slamming against his chest. “Fuck, fuck,” Steve mutters, the words are barely audible. He rubs a frustrated hand over his cheeks, “I’m so sorry.” You uncross your arms and rest them on the counter next to you. You finally raise your eyes to meet Steve’s, both of you on the verge of tears. Steve reads your body language and steps closer, very slowly.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats. “I love you. I’m a drunken idiot, I don’t deserve you. You deserve so much more than what I’ve put you through.”

Boyfriends

Are they just pretending?

They don't tell you where it's heading

And you know the game's never ending

You, you lay with him as you stay in the daydream

You feel a fool

You're back at it again

You want to give in and melt into his strong arms. You want to believe him, but is he just pretending? Will he just start drinking again as soon as things get hard? It’s hard to tell where it’s heading; you know Steve, but you only know what he shows you. Who knows what will come up next.

“I’ll- I- I’m sorry,” Steve fumbles over his words. He shifts uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck, “I’ll just go.”

“Steve,” you whisper. You step away from the counter, rubbing your hands over your arms as you step toward Steve. He lingers by the door, “can you take me home. Please?”

“I- yeah. Yes, yes of course,” he turns away from you to open the door. Eddie lingers in his doorway at the end of the hall, he gives you a quick look and lifts his hand to his ear like a makeshift phone. Call me later, he means. You offer a small smile and nod before you follow Steve out of the trailer. You let Steve open the car door, spilling inside without a word spoken. Steve starts to hum as he starts the car; he leaves the trailer park, tossing an occasional glance over his shoulder to look at you.

“I-” Steve starts, but quickly stops himself. He flexes his fingers around the steering wheel, trying to get the blood back to his knuckles.

“Steve,” you cast a quick look at him, offering a small smile. It's not a full smile, but just enough to extend an olive branch. You want him to talk to you. To explain what the hell is going on inside his head. “You can talk to me,” you choose your words carefully to avoid pushing him.

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” he mutters while he keeps his focus on the road. Steve swallows hard as if he forces it down hard enough the words won’t leave his mouth. “I’m such an asshole.”

You tuck your legs under you as you turn in the seat to face him, “yeah. You were an asshole.” You let your fingers slide over the back of the seat and down his bicep. You slip your index finger under the cap of his sleeve, rubbing the soft under part of his arm. His skin is always so warm, soft, and inviting. Goosebumps scatter over his arms as he turns to you with another soft smile. An olive branch.

“But?” Steve jokes, turning down a side street.

“But, you’re not always an asshole. You just act like one sometimes. Especially when you drink.”

“Shit,” he pulls over to the side of the street, parking the car. Steve turns in his seat to face you, he slowly links his fingers with yours that are still tracing his skin. “Shit, I know. I can’t even believe I said those things to you.”

You pull back your hand from his, the spiteful words from yesterday flooding back. It’s only been a day. Of course he’s sorry. Of course he’s going to say everything he should right now. Of course Steve would revert back to his perfect self, but would he stay that way? It just felt like a vicious cycle that started over every time he emptied a bottle. You’re back at it again, slipping right into the same pattern.

“You did say them though,” you look down at your lap, suddenly finding your hands to be the most fascinating thing in the car. Your lip quivers as you hear Steve sigh and shift closer to you. “How do I know you didn’t mean it? Everyone says drunk words are sober thoughts, maybe that’s what those were.”

Steve doesn’t answer for a second and you regret what you’ve said; you want to pull the words back and pretend everything is back to perfect now – but it’s not realistic. That’s what started all of this, Steve claiming you weren’t realistic because you wanted a raw conversation with him about his traumas. He brushed you off saying it would only make things worse.

“Steve,” you say his name like it’s a question. Please don’t hurt me again, you want to say. “How do I know?”

“You don’t,” Steve responds, shifting back to face the steering wheel. He turns the key over in the ignition and heads down the street at a rate that is definitely above the speed limit. You feel the crack in your heart completely splitting your chest open with every passing second. “You don’t know, but I know.” Steve says, his car roaring as he glides through the suburban streets. It’s like he’s racing your internal clock before it's too late – before he’s too late.

You tilt your face back up to look at him, curiosity getting the better of you. You may still have unresolved questions and feelings, but you want to know where he’s going with this. Both literally and metaphorically. The drive passes by in minutes as the silence grows, you want to reach out and grasp his hand and kiss his stressed joints.

“I said those things because I knew it would hurt and you would leave. I’m too much of a coward to let you in because I know if I do, you’ll see the real me.” You don’t answer, so Steve brushes his hair with his fingers and continues.

“I just know when you do, you’ll decide to leave on your own anyway. Shit, I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense, I- I just know how I feel about you.” Steve takes a familiar turn which leads to Steve’s house. Only for a second do you want to protest about going back to your house, not his. That second passes before you even acknowledge it because his house is also where you feel the most at home.

“You’re it for me. I know I’m fucked up,” Steve sighs as he parks the car in his driveway. “You have no reason to trust me right now, but I need you to. Please.��

He hesitates for a moment before reaching across the counsel to run his fingers over your knuckles in your lap. You unfold your hands and let Steve trace shapes in your palm. The tears that had been welling up slip down your cheeks as you watch his gentle movements.

“Steve, I can’t-”

“Don’t cry, baby,” he pushes his luck and reaches for your face, brushing away your tears. “Come inside with me and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” Steve’s words are confident as he looks at you. He dips his head down to look in your glassy eyes, a stray curl flopping down in front of his forehead. Your vision and mind are still blurry when you finally look back at him. Steve waits with held breath before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand, like you had wanted to do to his hands.

“Everything?” You ask, letting yourself finally feel a sliver of hope.

“Anything you want to know,” Steve promises. He presses another gentle kiss to your hands. “Please just come inside.”

The soft kisses on your hands, his kind words, his perfect brown eyes have you melting into him like snow in the sun. You nod wordlessly causing Steve to hop out of the car and usher you inside before you change your mind. You don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, or if you’ll regret falling into the cycle again. You’re hoping and praying he’s going to open himself up and you won’t feel a fool for believing him…But you love him, so you follow him inside anyway.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

sorry for the angsty ending, but thats how this song is :( thank you to everyone for the love on this series, everyones been so kind!! I'm glad you all love it as much as I do

next (and last) in the series: “love of my life” - e.m. x reader

✭ masterlist ✭ requests

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington sad #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x female reader #st x harrys house

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cripple-culture-is · 9 months

Note

Cripple culture is not wanting to go to PT anymore after just six weeks because it feels like your (phys abled) physical therapists don't understand anything about your situation and keep pushing for you to stop using the mobility aids that have increased your quality of life ten-fold.

I don't care if I'm relying on my mobility aids "too much". They want me to not use my crutches as much (which already don't help as much as I need them to) because I'm "strong enough" to not need them, according to them. Maybe my muscles are strong enough, but several times I have not been able to just go across the parking lot to get into the clinic from the car without my knees failing me, especially my bad one, or my hips and/or knees hurting like hell, or both. I'm strong as hell, sure, but that doesn't do shit when I'm scared to just go to the vending machine in my school alone because I'm worried my knee will dislocate or subluxate in the middle of me walking in the hallway for five minutes--which has happened on too many occasions to count. Not to mention my hips subluxating on multiple occasions when I'm not even doing anything--just laying in bed or on the couch on my back.

Or, get this, I went to [big city] and walked around for 45 minutes, and I was already knocked out. Then my family decided that we had to go to the store, and we did, and halfway through the shopping, I was in so weak and in so much pain that I physically could not talk. Once we got home, even after hours of resting, even after a full day, I could not walk more than ten feet without my crutches, and I couldn't walk at all without pain, even with crutches.

That's not even mentioning how, without my crutches, I am regularly banging into walls and door frames, and I have a relatively wide stance because I have no balance when I try to stand "normally" without them and am constantly consciously self-correcting so that I don't topple over. I've slammed my face into so many closed doors not because I don't see them, but because of how shite my balance and proprioception are. I run up the stairs on all fours when I don't have my crutches because A) it helps me not fall over because I feel like I'm about to pass out whenever I stand up, B) it helps me not fall over because I have awful balance, and C) it takes the weight off my legs and makes it less likely that they're going to collapse beneath me, especially on bad days.

I feel like they're so fucking desperate to cure me so I can walk "normally", that they're less focused on my actual quality of life and more focused on getting me to stop the mobility aids that I've needed since seventh grade at least, and only just got in August of last year. I bet that if I told them I wanted a wheelchair (and have wanted since seventh grade because every time I stood up, I felt like I was going to pass out), they would be mortified and tell me that I'm just making things worse for myself. They act like I'm overreacting and exaggerating all of my experiences, meanwhile I haven't been able to write with a pencil--especially non-mechanical pencils--for longer than ten seconds because of how much pain I'm in; meanwhile I have to catch my breath whenever I sit down after walking more than ten feet; meanwhile I can't even use a lot of exercise equipment, especially for the legs, because after just thirty seconds it feels like my bad knee is stabbing me.

(Sorry about the vent, I'm just so fucking tired of this shit. Tl;dr, my physical therapists don't listen to me and act like because I have strong muscles, I actually don't need my mobility aids as much as I do because they personally think, after six 45-minute tops sessions where we barely talk about my abilities in the real world, that I'm basically healthy aside from chronic pain, meanwhile I regularly risk subluxating my hips and knees just walking the distance from the parking lot to the clinic where I go to see them.)

Oh no! I'm so sorry you're dealing with that. They should really know better. As a disabled person, you are the only one who truly knows what will work for you. If your mobility aids help you, keep using them, your PT's reaction and opinion be damned. It isn't about them. It's about you.

If walking without them increases your fall risk, use your crutches.

#cripple punk #cripplepunk #crip punk #cpunk #physical disability #physically disabled #physical disabilities #cripple problems #cripple life #cripple culture is

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ben-c-group-therapy · 2 years

Text

A Tale of Two Brothers Part 1

Title: A Tale of Two Brothers Part 1

Word Count: 2,948

Miguel x Reader x Nick

Warnings: None just yet. Next chapter I plan to include steam, angst, and other things I don't want to give away.

Authors Notes: So this is my first fic in a long time. My first Miguel and Nick fic ever and the first fic of this kind of genre I hope to achieve so I hope you all enjoy it and I didn't do horribly! Sorry for the shitty cover image!

“Agent Amaro? Agent Amaro? Did you hear what I just said?” Nick was shaken from his daze by a firm hand on his shoulder.

Looking up into his Captain’s eyes, he briefly shook his head and looked back down to the case file in front of him containing a photo of Miguel Galindo and his wife (Y/N) Galindo.

From the second Nick saw Miguel’s face, he did a double-take and got lost in thoughts when his Captain explained the operation and that Miguel Galindo was Nick’s lost twin brother.

“Amaro?” Captain Stillman shook Nick’s shoulder again.

“Uh, sorry, Cap. What did you say?” Nick asked, looking up again.

“I said, I know it’s a difficult case, but you’re the only one who can get in with the family. Miguel Galindo is a smart man, but he has a soft spot for family. A blind spot for family even. Ever since losing his mother suddenly, he’s been in a tailspin, and it’s gotten ugly. I hate to do this to you, put you in this situation. He’s family you didn’t know you had….” Captain Stillman continued before getting cut off by Nick.

“No, he’s my blood, but it doesn’t make him family. We all know he has ties with murders on both sides of the border. You know me, cap, I’m in. I will get the intel we need to bust the Galindo Cartel once and for all and stick him and his entire team behind bars. Blood or not. Whatever it takes.” Nick got up quickly and closed the vanilla file folder taking it with him. “Tell me when and where I need to be, and I’ll be there.” He added before heading out of the bleak grey room in the FBI’s California bureau in downtown L.A.

Walking around your empty mansion on a hill felt lonely and cold even if the sun shone in, making it bright. Being the wife of Miguel Galindo had its perks, of course, like having a doting husband who loved you and would protect you always. It also had its negatives, like no privacy and times where Miguel was gone for business, which lately seemed to be more frequent.

In your heart, you knew Miguel loved you, but your mind loved putting thoughts into your head when you’d hear whispers around the town of jealous women who would claim they had seen Miguel make out or even sleeping with other women. The thoughts ate at you the more times he left the house.

Your black five-inch heels clicked with every step you took across the beautiful, tiled floors as you paced across the room back and forth.

Miguel had promised to be home by lunch, and it was now going on nearly four in the afternoon with no word from your husband or any of his bodyguards.

You had done your hair, put on your favourite makeup, and changed into a lovely blue barely-there lingerie set Miguel had bought you on his last trip. You had a gorgeous body con dress showing off all your beautiful curves that your handsome husband loved to feel and couldn’t take his eyes off.

It was meant to be a surprise, a coming home gift if you will, but now he was late, and you were frustrated and upset.

Huffing, you grabbed your heels and started towards the stairs, grumbling to yourself angrily.

“Mrs Galindo.” Leo, one of your bodyguards, entered the living room and glanced at you.

“What?!” You snapped before sighing. “I’m sorry, Leo. You didn’t deserve that.” You clenched your jaw before turning around and looking at the tall man your husband had trusted to keep you safe when out in public.

“Mr Galindo sends his apologies for being so late but wishes for you to join him for dinner tonight at seven at The Prado.” The tall, dark brown-haired man looked at you with striking, nearly black eyes.

“If I go and he doesn’t show up, I’ll kill him.” You growled, still angry he missed lunch, and you had gone all out for him, even skipping lunch in hopes he would get in not seven hours later. “You can tell him I said so too.” You nodded before heading upstairs. “I’ll be ready by six.”

Sitting in the black SUV later that evening, you took a breath until something caught your eye in the seat beside you. Your brows furrowed before grabbing the Tiffany & Co. bag. “Leo? Was this supposed to be here?” You questioned when your trusted guard got into the vehicle to drive you to the restaurant.

“Yes, Mrs Galindo.” He said before driving down the long-paved drive.

You opened the bag noticing a small card slipped inside. Opening the envelope, you read the inside of the sweet note.

“Cariño,

I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up myself. I’ll meet you at the restaurant. Here’s a little something to make you smile. Put it on, and I can’t wait to see your dazzling smile soon.

Con todo mi amor,

-Miguel.”

Your heart melted, and you looked in the bag again before you took out a square jewellery box, unwrapping the neatly tied white bow and opening the hinged lid of the famous Tiffany blue leather box. Taking out the suede pouch, you opened it and let a beautiful diamond tennis bracelet fall into your hand. Gasping, you held it up after putting the box and bag down. “Miguel…” you whispered to yourself before feeling your cheeks and face warm from the love and butterflies you felt filling you at Miguel’s gestures and love.

A Tiffany tennis bracelet wasn’t just a drop in the bucket for everyone, but Miguel loved spoiling you when he could. Smiling to yourself, you placed the bracelet around your wrist and managed to get it clasped just fine. Holding your wrist out, you turned your arm and hand side to side slightly to let the streetlights catch on the many diamonds and shimmer around the car.

Miguel pulled up at The Prado in his town car before getting out and straightening his grey suit jacket with a single shrug of his shoulders and pulling of the coat. The man strode into the restaurant; the hostess already knew who the man was by just his face, let alone the air Miguel held when he was in a room. Confidence, power, a tone that told everyone to stay out of his way and not bother him unless asked.

The young woman led Miguel straight to the back of the restaurant into a more private area so that you and he wouldn’t be bothered. “Thank you.” Miguel smiled before sitting down and looking over the menu.

“They’re pulling up now, sir.” Luis leaned in after getting a call saying your car had pulled up out front. Miguel nodded and looked towards the front of the restaurant so he could watch for you. It had been too long, and he missed you desperately.

In another corner of the restaurant, just outside Miguel and (Y/N) Galindo’s view, Nick was seated within earshot of the table they would occupy. Tonight, he started his operation to get into the family, but first, he needed some basic information. How they were as a couple and what Miguel had been up to.

Nick had worn black-rimmed glasses and had already ordered an appetiser of crackers and hummus along with a beer. The agent couldn’t believe he was sitting here now so close to a twin brother he never knew he had. His mind raced with thoughts and conflicts but knowing he had to do what was right. The cartel was dangerous and needed to be stopped.

Ever since growing up with an abusive father and wanting to help other victims in the same situations as he, his sister and his mother were, Nick Amaro had always been on the side of the law. He started in narcotics and was a detective with Manhattan SVU before moving on from the NYPD when he knew there was no growth in the department for him. He was grateful that the FBI wanted him; he was now a field agent and had gone undercover several times.

For a detective, Nick had thought he would’ve figured out he had family lying to him along the way, but maybe he is blind to family in some way, like his twin Miguel.

The raven-haired man shook his head, clearing himself of his thoughts when he heard Miguel speaking again and heels clicking on the tiled floor. He subtly turned his head to the right to eye (Y/N) Galindo as she made her way towards her husband. Nick could’ve been easily caught by staring too long, given she was the most gorgeous woman he had laid eyes on. The man had to remind himself tonight was not the time to reveal himself, and he could not take this woman, for she was already taken by his cartel leader brother no less. Nick groaned and drank his beer, preparing to hear what the couple had to say.

“There she is. You look beautiful, mi amor.” Miguel wrapped you into his arms, holding your hips briefly and kissing you tenderly, smiling against them. He wished he had just gone home and had dinner so he could get you to bed sooner if he were being honest.

Your husband slipped around you and slid your chair out for you before you sat down and scooted it back. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming home.” You raised a brow, deciding maybe you shouldn’t let Miguel off the hook so fast.

“I’m sorry, baby, business took a bit longer than I had planned, and I had a few more meetings than I had anticipated.” Miguel frowned, hoping you could forgive him. He took your left hand, bringing it down on the table with his and tracing your inner wrist, bracelet and up to your wedding band before returning to your wrist again and grabbing your hand, holding it tenderly in his. “Won’t you forgive me?” He said with a little boyish charm and eyes that had mischief behind them but looked like sad puppy dog eyes.

“That doesn’t make up for leaving me all dressed up at home with lunch and a surprise for you for nearly four hours and not a word about where you were.” You tiled your head, raising a brow, trying to hold your resolve.

“A surprise?” Miguel smirked, the corners of his lips curling under his neatly trimmed beard. “What was the surprise? You still have it waiting for me?”

“Nope…that surprise expired at four when I got comfortable and took a nap.” You smirked. “I do forgive you, though. I just miss you. It’s…it’s too quiet when you’re gone.” You sighed and took a sip of the wine Miguel had ordered while waiting for you to come inside. “Just glad you showed up tonight. Didn’t want to have to kill you or anything.” You teased.

“I heard from Luis that you would if I didn’t show. I’d like to see you try, my love; I’d like to see you try.” Miguel had an amused glint in his dark hazelnut eyes as he chuckled from deep within his chest and took a sip of his wine, swirling his glass. “I’m sorry, amor, I know I’ve been gone a lot more often. So many meetings lately, so many promising things in our future, and I can’t wait to share them with you, but this isn’t the time or the place.” Miguel gave your hand a tender squeeze.

Nick listened in curiously about what business dealings Miguel could potential have in store. Was it legitimate or illegal? All in due time, Nick figured he’d find out.

The man listened in on the couple who made happy light conversation, figuring they never would discuss business in public or any personal information, given Miguel had the reputation to keep up a perfect public appearance of a happy and proud family man.

Sighing, the tired agent took another swig of his beer and waited for the Galindos to leave, figuring tomorrow would be the day he officially met and started his investigation of his twin, Miguel Galindo.

The following morning Nick pulled up to the Galindo residence and stopped at the gate in his modest four-door sedan he had rented while doing this undercover stent. Nick pressed the call button and waited for someone to answer.

“Who is this?” One of the many guards spoke through the speaker from up by the house.

“Uh yeah, this is Nick Valens,” Nick came up with a fake last name for his time undercover. “I’m here in hopes that I can meet Miguel Galindo. I…I um, well, I’m his twin brother.” The man cleared his throat.

There was silence on the other side of the speaker before the buzzer sounded, and the gate started to draw back, opening for Nick to drive up to the big house perched on top of the small hill just outside Santo Padre. The man took a deep breath as he pulled up to the front door area, where he was met with a team of guards, all armed with guns at their sides.

One with long braids came up to his driver’s side and tilted his head, silently asking him to step out of the car. Nick did as he was asked, and as he looked at the guard, the man looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“Is this a joke?” Nestor spat out after a minute before shaking his head. “Uh, sorry. You said your name was Nick Valens? Miguel’s twin?”

“Yeah, look, I know it’s all confusing, but I just found out recently and came out here to meet him. Well, hopefully.” Nick laughed dryly as he looked around at the number of guards. “If I can get past the….” The handsome man waved his hand around to the guards and cameras. “First round of approval. I thought I’d have to face his wife or family for approval first.” Nick smiled, proud of himself for making a little joke. Nestor shook his head, smirking a bit, knowing Miguel would never believe this shit.

“Yeah. Stay there, alright.” Nestor looked over to the other guards alerting them to keep an eye on Nick as he headed into the house and to Miguel’s office. He rapped on the door with his knuckles a few times before hearing his childhood best friend and boss telling him to come in. When Nestor entered the clean, well-kept sophisticated office, he glanced at Miguel, who had his head down looking at some contracts in a stack on his desk.

“How can I help you, Nestor….” Miguel drawled out, never looking up.

“Hey uh, Mikey.” Nestor started before Miguel looked up, curious and annoyed as to why Nestor was calling him by his childhood nickname, which they shared growing up and in casual moments still, during business hours. “There’s someone who’s here to see you. And before you say no, I’m pretty sure you’re going to want to see him.” The cartel leader furrowed his brows and stood up, his black dress shirt clinging tightly around his chiselled chest just right as he headed out of his office, followed by Nestor.

“This better be worth it, Nestor.” Miguel grumbled as he headed to the front door opening it and instantly finding his breath caught in his throat at the sight of Nick.

“It is.” Nestor whispered, slipping around Miguel and back outside. “He says he’s your twin.”

Miguel felt so many emotions, shock overall but betrayed, angry, joyful, and sadness. He instantly wanted to know why his mother never told him of a twin. Was she even his mother? How many lies was he told? Did this man who looked exactly like him know anything more than he did? The leader shook his head, trying to clear his mind and eyes of tears before clearing his throat and stepping forward.

Nick was shocked all this time Miguel was only a photo until last night when he got a brief glance and had heard him speak. Seeing his twin face to face made him wonder if this was why his father had been so angry all those years. Not that it gave him an excuse. He was still and always would be an abusive son of a bitch, which Nick would never forgive, but was he upset as his Ma because Miguel was given up for adoption, and he didn’t want to? He never saw his Ma doing that, but nothing made sense right now. The undercover agent had to get his head back into the game and shook his head before stepping forward, looking over his brother, working up tears.

“I-I’m Nick Valens, and I’m your twin brother.” Nick spoke softly, his voice wavering with emotion from his thoughts.

“Miguel Galindo. I never heard anything of you. I want to know more.” Miguel suppressed his emotions best he could, even if everything inside of him was screaming. He stepped aside and waved the man inside of his home. There was a familial connection there, Miguel couldn’t deny the feeling, but as a cartel leader, he always had a healthy dose of suspicion. With the many dealings, he had to make sure things were on the up and up, and everything went smoothly.

Both men had a lot riding on this meeting; it could mean a future as happy brothers, unanswered questions and feelings finally answered once and for all, or it could lead to heartache, unhappy memories, or bloodshed. Only time would tell.

Final Notes: It's a tad long so I decided to stop myself and break it into two parts. Please Please Pleaseeee comment and like and reblog if you like this or just let me know your thoughts! Thanks guys.

A special shout out to @breanime for letting me bounce ideas off her and letting me message her constantly lol. I've admired your work Bre for so so long and it was in part due to you that I decided to write my own. It was also in part due to @itsjustmyfantasyroom @mrsamaroevans @dannypinot @burningtacozombie for their fics and amazing photos and gifs of the beautiful Danny Pino. Also thank you to @irishavengersassemble for being my best friend and sister for so long and always supporting me. Okay, I'll stop, I'm not winning a Pulitzer prize here. Chapter 2

#miguel galindo x reader #nick amaro x reader #miguel galindo #nick amaro #fanfiction #nick amaro fanfic #miguel galindo fanfic #fanfiction writing #fluff #angsty #ish #idk #mayans mc fanfic #law and order svu #mayans mc #danny pino #alternate universe #crossover #mentions of other characters

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inkrabbit · 1 year

Text

Shut Up

for my love, @phantombluue

Summary: Ares decides to swoop you up in the middle of the night to deliver you to Silvanus in hopes you can comfort the old earth ghoul

Word count: 1,300

You fell asleep for all of maybe twenty minutes before your door clicked open. It wasn't unusual for the older siblings to go around and do headcounts every now and then, but it still made you groan softly. That's fine. Any second now, your door would click shut and you could go back to bed.

But you heard it: soft footsteps that grew closer. You finally turn, ready to tell the sibling that you're okay and you just want to sleep. That's when you recognize him.

The broken horns. Those glowing violet-blue eyes. That familiar scowl on his face.

“Shut up.” It's the first thing out of Ares' mouth as he reaches out. A squeak escapes your lips as he unceremoniously scoops you up into his arms. He sounds tired as he turns and walks out of your room, the sound of his boots echoing in the silent halls.

“I need you for tonight,” he grumbles softly, not even bothering to look at you. “Or rather, Sil needs you.”

Silvanus? You knew the ghoul. He was Papa Nihil's drummer and, at most times, a sarcastic loud-mouth. Still, he had retained some charm and was nice to most of the siblings, especially you. He never shooed you out of the kitchen when he was cooking and he had offered for you to spend time in their dens if ministry life got to be too much.

“Why does he need me?” you ask. Those eyes flicker down to you, the violent glint in them making your blood run cold.

“Shut up.” Fair enough. You watch as he carries you past the guest houses and towards their dens. The building wasn't as big as the others; it was only big enough to house the four of them. You heard talk of there once being a fifth, but no one had ever expanded on it. You supposed tonight wasn't the night to ask the old fire ghoul about the rumors.

Ares isn't gentle as he opens the door, kicking it shut with his heel. It's warmer inside, though it's dark. He trudges up the stairs and you cling a little tighter to him, worried he'll trip. You hear him let out a huff, but he doesn't say anything else as he takes a sharp right at the top of the stairs. In the dim light that seeps through the giant windows, you can barely make out the earth symbol on an oak door. It didn't take a genius to know who it belonged to, and you felt your heart speed up at the thought of being inside Silvanus' room for the first time.

“Stop that.” You look back at Ares, his scowl still cemented on his face. “Calm down or you'll freak him out.”

“I'm not exactly used to being carried into a ghoul's room,” you fire back, though you keep your voice low like he's doing. He stands outside of the door motionless, and you take a couple deep breaths to try and steady yourself.

“Don't ask him too many questions,” he instructs you. “He'll talk if he wants. Other than that, just... be there for him.”

“You're still not making any sense.” But he doesn't respond. Instead, he twists the golden knob and pushes the door open with his shoulder. The smell hits you but it's not the musk you're familiar with. The smell of forest is there, sure, but there's something heavier on top of it; sickly and heavy with iron. You see the way Ares' face contorts from a scowl to discomfort.

“Fratello,” he calls out softly. You see Silvanus laying in a plush bed, a light green canopy drawn around it. A brass lantern is lit, placed on the table next to his bed. Ares moves forward, shouldering the canopy open as he drops you on the bed. You see how Silvanus' ears twitch but he doesn't move. He doesn't even make a sound. “I've brought you company, mia luce. You know this Sibling, don't you?”

He finally moves, looking over his shoulder at you and letting out a small chuff. The sight of him makes your heart break. Any light from his eyes have gone and the dark circles have gotten worse. On top of that, his cheeks glisten in the dim light. Had he been crying?

“I didn't want you to be alone tonight,” Ares continues softly. “but Notus needs me. I figure your favorite Sibling would be better company than a fire ghoul.”

This time, he lets out a soft grunt. The somber look on Ares' face is so foreign as he stares at the earth ghoul. For once, he finally looks lost; helpless and defeated. His eyes go back to you. A silent nod is all you get, like he's reminding you of what he had said before he leaves, shutting the door behind him. You turn your attention back to Silvanus. The ghoul isn't looking at you anymore. Instead, he's looking at the wall, the seafoam green paint seeming to hold his interest. The comforter is drawn up to his hip, exposing his bare torso to you.

“Silvanus?” you try softly. His ears twitch but, again, he doesn't move. “Hey, what's wrong?”

“'m fine.” But you know it's a lie. His voice is strained, raspy, and even in that short sentence, you can hear how he's reverted back to the overlapping voice. You'd only heard it once when he was yelling at Sister Imperator. You didn't think you'd hear it again, especially in this state.

You feel awkward reaching out but you finally do. You rest your hand on his shoulder, your thumb stroking his skin. He feels cold underneath your touch.

“I'm here if you need me.” It's something he had told you when you started to hang around him more. Just a soft affirmation. But it seems to work.

At first, you assumed he was just going to ignore you again. But slowly, like it almost pains him to move, he finally rolls over to face you. This isn't the Silvanus you're used to and your eyes trail down to his neck. A nasty scar is embedded across his throat, but he tucks his head down when he notices you staring for too long. Ares' voice rings in your head. Don't ask him too many question. You settle on letting the silence linger as your hand moves towards his face, thumb swiping away the drying tears. You can't get over how broken and empty he looks.

But he finally moves again, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. His breathing is heavy and you can't tell if he's crying again or not. So you just hold him back, rubbing soothing circles into his back. You see how some of the plants hanging around his room has wilted. You wonder if this is what Ares has to deal with. You wonder if this is what Ares would do. Was this the right thing to do? Is this what he needed?

“It's okay,” you tell him, your voice just above a whisper. “I'm right here.”

“Thank you.” It's still the overlapping voice but it's getting better, steadier. He nuzzles further into your neck. You let your hand move, trailing through his hair and combing through it with your fingers. His heavy breathing slowly evens out, his body finally relaxed.

“Sil?” He doesn't answer. Probably finally fell asleep. So you press your lips against his head before settling further into the bed. You rest your head on top of his. Well, at least you could spend the night with your favorite ghoul. Even if you wished the conditions were different.

#ares ghoul #silvanus ghoul #gn!reader #comfort #Silvanus is a depressed little bitch that can't talk about his feelings like a big boi

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casspurrjoybell-22 · 9 months

Text

Master - Chapter 29a

*Warning: Adult Content*

Standing at the front door of Arias' Malcolm's home, I try to keep my feet on the ground but I couldn't help but bounce up and down every time I thought about why I was waiting here.

It was because Master was coming back today.

I squeal a little as I jump off my feet completely, unable to keep my happiness inside, my body was too small to contain it all.

When Arias looks at me with a look of amusement, I bite my lip to stop any more happy sounds from coming out of me until I saw Master.

Arias was excited too, I knew he missed his Malcolm a lot even if he didn't say it, he was just better at keeping his emotions inside than I was, especially his happy ones.

It made sense that he could because he was taller than me so his body was bigger and could keep more inside of it.

It's been exactly four days since Master left, I counted and though I always tried to be good for him over the phone.

I missed Master very, very much.

I felt sick inside without seeing him and I couldn't stop myself from crying whenever our calls came to an end and I couldn't hear his voice anymore.

But even so, I'd made sure to be good while I waited and now Master was finally coming back.

Another sound escapes me but I don't try to stop it anymore because I know what my body could handle.

Even though I was super happy, I was also a little nervous because now that Master was coming home, Arias would tell him and his Malcolm what I was.

I was still trying to understand how I was an Angel and a demon and an Elf, it seemed like too much and I didn't want it all.

I just wanted to be Kalem and nothing else.

I didn't want Master to think of me differently when he found out what I did.

Arias said that he wouldn't, but he wasn't my Master so there was no way to know for sure.

But even with the way my tummy bubbled with nerves, I was too eager to see Master too focus on my worries.

"When will they be here Arias," I whine after another minute passes without any signs of Master.

"I don't know young one, they didn't give us a specific time," Arias says patiently.

"That's why I suggested waiting inside."

I pout and turn back to face the long driveway that leads up the house, the minute Master's car turned the corner at the end, I would see it and he would see me waiting for him.

I couldn't wait to be in his arms again.

But when Master finally arrives, it's not from the driveway like how he'd left a few days ago, instead, it's out of nowhere.

Master's car pops right in front of the house with no warning, making me scream out in surprise and pop into Arias’ arms, who didn't even flinch.

I was learning how to pop without making everything go stop around me.

When my eyes focus on Master, Arias' Malcolm and Mr. Wen in the car, I force myself to let go of Arias who was holding me calmly.

The second Master steps out of the car that had just somehow done pop on it’s own, I find myself running down the stairs so I can get to him.

"Master," I greet happily as I run to him with my biggest smile.

"You're back."

Master uses his Vampire speed to meet me halfway with a smile of his own that was bright and pretty.

He picks me up suddenly and gathers me into his arms to hug me tighter than he has ever hugs me before.

My entire body vibrates with joy and contentment, as I wrap my arms around Master's neck and my legs around his waist, trying to hold in my happy squeals as I melted into his arms.

Nothing felt better than being with Master.

I bury my face into his neck so I could soak in the scent of home and love that I'd missed so much.

I'd been sleeping in Master's clothes the last few nights so I could feel like I was sleeping with him around me but the scent that lingered on his shirts was nothing like the real thing that made me feel all tingly inside.

"Master," I whimper happily as he groans into my ear.

Leaning back, Master presses his full lips to mine and kisses me deeply, making my entire body light up from the contact.

I moan into the kiss, wanting a hundred more like it to make up for all the ones we missed while we were apart.

It was a deep kiss and full of love, so raw and real that it made my chest ache inside for more.

Master doesn't hold back, kissing his way into my mouth until I open for him, allowing him to have a taste.

He sucks on my tongue and nibbles on my lips before kissing me gently and doing it all over again.

I giving him all I can, kissing him back with all the want I felt while he was away. Masters hold on me tightens to the point that it hurt a little bit, but even that felt right, so I soaked it in, never wanting him to let go of me ever again.

"I missed you so damn much," Master breathes out against my lips the moment we part.

His dark eyes flick up to meet mine and I smile when I see them full of his love.

"I missed you too Ma..." I stop myself for a moment, feeling like that wasn't right for right now.

"I missed you too L-Lincoln."

I was only a little scared to use Master's name but that went away immediately when Master's smile turned so happy it hurt my chest to see it.

It also made his eyes flare with something mixed between the look he gave me when he was really happy and the look he gave me in bed, I absolutely loved it.

I feel my smile grow even bigger and kiss Master again before I tuck myself into his neck, not wanting him to put me down.

"Let's go home," Master whispers against my neck where he was kissing, I begin to nod eagerly but stop when Mr. Wen clears his throat, bringing our attention his way.

I look across to find Mr. Wen sitting on the top of Master's car with his legs folded beneath him and his face in his hands as he watches Master and I with a pleased, naughty look.

I don't know how I felt about Mr.Wen.

He was the reason why I went through that horrible time where Master didn't touch me even though we both really wanted it and it made Master upset with me.

But I knew inside that it wasn't really his fault, I agreed and he didn't force me to do anything.

But still, I found myself glaring at Mr. Wen just a little bit.

"Before you run off to have sex, shouldn't you all talk together first," he says with a raised brow.

"Last time I checked, there was news to share on both sides to share, including the fact that there will be a whole clan of Vampires coming here in the following weeks."

Master releases a frustrated groan as if he'd forgotten about everything else but me but still, he nods in agreement.

"You're right," Master grumbles with clear annoyance.

"Malcolm, are you good to..."

Master's words stop as he turns to face Arias and his Malcolm.

I turn my head as well to see what caught Master's tongue and my eyes go super wide when I do.

Arias had his Malcolm pinned to the front door with one hand around his neck and the other digging into his hair.

He was giving him super rough kisses, as if he hadn't seen him in a really, really long time.

His Malcolm was moaning beneath him as Arias used his larger body to keep him plastered to the door, showing the most need than I'd ever seen him do before.

It was like Arias was trying to eat his Malcolm.

"My eyes. My fucking eyes," Master grumbles uncomfortably.

"My dick. My fucking dick," Mr. Wen says in a soft purr.

"This shits going make me cream my pants.”

Master turns away to not look but Mr. Wen and I keep watching the pair attentively.

I bite my lip to stop myself from saying anything naughty because even though Arias was my friend, what I was watching was making my body react in ways it should only react for my Master.

"Master," Malcolm whimpers through Arias' possessive kisses.

Arias stares at Malcolm with a heated gaze I'd never seen in him before and something in the air shifts all around us as Arias' golden eyes seems to burn with lust.

But it all suddenly washes away when he turns to face the rest of us as if just waking from a dream.

A super good dream I'd say.

Arias’ face turns very neutral as he slowly steps back from his Malcolm but doesn't withdraw the hand he had around his throat while kissing him.

"I assumed you left," he says simply, his tone came off a little annoyed but also very unapologetic.

I look to Master to tell him about how I'd used my word for the week but quickly bite my lip to stop myself, thinking this probably wasn't the best time.

"Thank the Fucking Gods I didn't," Mr. Wen says as he licks his lips hungrily.

"I feel reenergized. That shit was hot as hell."

"Let's head inside," Master says in a clear effort to change the subject.

“The quicker we talk, the quicker we can leave."

Arias nods sharply before looking back at his Malcolm who was still staring at him and looking very, very dazed.

"After," Arias whispers through clenched teeth before he releases Malcolm's neck as if it suddenly burned him and rushes into the house.

Malcolm glances to us for a second before he follows after Arias and disappears into the house as well.

Mr. Wen hops off the top of the car and follows after them with a slight skip to his step before Master takes us inside after them all.

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sapphirelass · 2 years

Text

Failure - Weasley Family x Weasley!Reader

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧I solemnly swear that I am up to no good✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

'Ello everyone! Once again it's been ages since I posted a story. I promise I am writing!!! I'm just... writing veeeeeerrrrrrryyyy slowly... But hey, what can one do?

Tbh, I'm not too sure about this one, but I have been working on it for weeks now, so I'm just gonna post it and hope someone likes it. I have some other fics coming up (hopefully) soon - and mainly HP actually! I started writing for Percy Jackson, Team Flash, Spider-Man and a few other characters, but I'm in such a Harry Potter mood at the moment (thanks to the 20th-anniversary reunion)... Ahhhh... I don't know! Anyways, I'll get back to writing for someone and let you all enjoy this sad thing for now! See yah!

Note: As always I'm finishing this late at night meaning I will probably have to reread this one more time and check for potential errors, but it's late, so I'm just going to trust Grammarly and post it for now! Enjoy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

+ CEFR level C2 (due to passing the C1 advanced test with an A)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count: ≈ 3,1k

Warnings: Mild swearing, death eaters, cruciatus curse (not very descriptive), angst, feeling anxious

Enjoy! :)

Read as xOC instead of character insert

~~~Failure - Weasley Family x Weasley!Sister~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m serious, dad, there’s nothing to worry about - the plan is fool-proof!”

(y/n) rushed furiously up the stairs of her childhood home with her backpack in her right hand. She had been trying to get everything packed for half an hour, desperately wanting to be 100% ready once her mother would wake up, as it would be next to impossible to prepare for her next job with Mrs Weasley around. (y/n) had however not expected her dad to be too much of a problem - it was usually him who would convince his wife not to worry about the kids every time they left the house - but clearly, the task she had been assigned meant taking a risk so big that even Arthur was hesitant about letting his daughter go.

“I know it sounds that way, sweetie, but this job is not like anything you’ve ever done before, it’s… It’s… It’s different, an-”

It felt both weird and oddly familiar at the same time. She had moved to her own flat a few years earlier and had gotten used to not having overprotective brothers and parents trying to prevent her from going on dangerous missions. Originally, she hadn’t planned to go back ‘home’ until after this job, but her mother had started driving her younger siblings mad, causing them to send a letter asking their older sister to PLEASE come home and help prepare for Bill and Fleur’s wedding. It had been a long time since (y/n) last had to handle this situation, but her father seemed to have no problem picking up where they left off.

“How, dad?” She turned around and violently pulled a hand through her red hair, desperately trying to keep her voice down. “Apprehending people who turned to the dark arts is literally my job, at least this time we know what to expect! We just have to transport the death eaters from point A to point B as smoothly as possible, and even if they should try to break free, there’ll be four of them, and twelve of us - surely three aurors could take down one wandless death eater?”

Arthur remained quiet for a few seconds, causing his daughter to put her backpack on the floor, walk a few steps back down the stairs, and pull him in for a hug.

“Look, Dad, I know it’s not without risk, but… I’ve got to go. I don’t think the question any longer is if you-know-who is gonna take control of the ministry, but when, and once that time comes we have to be prepared for anything. The best we can do is make sure the most dangerous people are in a secure place, and well guarded. As much as I hate it, Azkaban is the safest bet, otherwise, they’ll all be back out on the streets, and everything we have worked for these past two years will have been for nothing. We’ll just have to hope that the dementors won’t switch sides. I’m sorry... I love you.”

It wasn’t only a long hug, but a long-awaited one as well.

“I love you too, darling, which is why I don’t want you to do this. I understand your reasoning but…”

“Dad? (y/n/n)? You’re home already?”

(y/n) looked over her dad’s shoulder and immediately walked into the arms of the person who had called her name - her older brother.

“Bill…”

He hugged his sister tightly and put his right hand comfortingly on the back of her head. She was shaking slightly, but Bill pulled her in even closer and put his head on top of hers. This was why (y/n) always tried to prepare, pack and leave quickly every time she was assigned a mission - that way she left no room for any nerves and could focus on the task at hand without getting too scared or anxious. Don’t get it wrong, she loved protecting others and knew it was an important job, but overthinking things just made her realize how much she had to lose. Being around her extremely caring family made that even worse.

“Shhh… (y/n), breathe, easy, you’re fine.”

“Yeah, I know, I know… It’s just, I don’t like thinking too much about it. I’m good, though, and I’ve missed you.”

“I know… ‘n I’ve missed you too. Hey, not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you home? And awake?”

“Mum needed some help with the wedding preparations, and…”

Bill moved his gaze from his sister to his father, silently asking for a response.

“Your sister is leaving for work.”, said Arthur slowly. “It’s just not an easy decision. It’s not-”

“-It’s not safe.”. (y/n)'s gaze wandered nervously around the living room - her parents’ house still being one of the few places where she felt properly at home. She smiled slightly when she noticed a brown plush rabbit sitting on a shelf. It was her favourite toy when she was younger and had been her father’s before her. “Heck, it’s really, really dangerous, but it has to be done. I don’t have a choice, and as much as I would love to stay here with you, the longer I do the harder it becomes to leave.” She sighed. “But I have to go. Bill, will you please tell mum I’m sorry when she wakes?”

Bill looked at his sister, not really wanting to let her go, but understanding exactly how she felt. “Of course.” He grabbed the backpack and handed it to her before placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. “Stay safe, okay? Promise us that!”

“Bill-”

“(y/n/n)!”

“Stop it! You know I can’t promise something like that. I swear I’ll do my best, though.”

“Good. Then go, I’ll see you next week?”

(y/n) smiled. “Yeah, around lunchtime on Wednesday. Bye, Bill. Bye, dad.”

Arthur looked out the window and sighed sadly as his daughter disapparated. “I remember when I feared for her life because she kept climbing the big apple tree… Now I almost wish she was there, hanging on to one of the top branches, swinging back and forth.” He closed his eyes and leant against the wall behind him. “At least then I could see her. Make sure she didn’t fall.”

“I know, dad. But she’s not a kid anymore.”

“She’ll always be my kid.”

“She’ll always be short.”

“Bill!”

“Jokin’! C’mon, dad, let’s go have a cup of tea, yeh?”

————————

‘The plan is fool-proof!’ (y/n) coughed slightly and regretted her words as she was hit with yet another curse. The plan had been fool-proof… apart from the fact that someone at the ministry clearly had leaked information to the death eaters. The mission had relied on secrecy. It had been planned in secret and only the 12 aurors and a few ministry officials had known the details. Despite that, around 30 death eaters attacked as soon as the transport had left the city, and due to their numbers, the aurors barely stood a chance.

“Jackson, we need to get out of here as soon as possible! There’s no way we’ll be able to fight them all off.”

“You’re probably right, Weasley.”, he shouted while sending a death eater flying off his broom. “But how did this happen? We were so careful!?”

“Yeah, I don’t know.” (y/n) swiftly flew out of the way as a flash of green light almost touched her side. “But that doesn’t really matter right now. Wilson’s wounded, can you help him.”

“Sure.”

“And then get out before anyone’s killed.”

He frowned and nodded towards her. “You too.”

“Yeah, course. I’m just gonna try to take Dolohov down. I really don’t want him out and about again.”

The auror seemed to doubt his college’s decision for a second but was familiar with her family’s history with that particular death eater. “Fine, but be careful! I mean it, (y/n/n).” He looked straight into her eyes. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks!”

“Oh, you know me, Jacky. Careful planning, no risktaking.”

“Good. See you in the office tomorrow, then. Good luck.”

————————

(y/n) battled her way through a few death eaters and eventually found herself sneaking up on Dolohov.

“Expelliarmus.”

He turned around in surprise as his wand flew out of his hand.

“Incarcerus.”

Thick ropes bound the death eater, effectively preventing him from escaping. However, (y/n) was so focused on arresting the man who murdered two of her uncles that she completely missed someone approaching her from behind.

“Crucio”

She fell and dropped her wand as intense pain spread through her body. It was pain beyond anything she could ever have imagined. She unwillingly let out a scream as the pain intensified before suddenly lessening. Despite coughing and struggling, she tried to get back up on her feet but fell yet again as the same kind of agony, only a hundred times worse forced her to focus solely on not passing out.

“Well, well, well… We counted on a few random aurors to stand in our way, but who knew we’d stumble upon a blood traitor as well, huh?” The death eater, Augustus Rockwood, leant forward and spat on the ground, right by her face where she lay twitching in the mud. “How does it feel down there, Weasley? Feel at home?” He pulled (y/n) to her knees and Dolohov, who had managed to untangle himself from the rope, walked up to her and grabbed her face roughly. “Striking resemblance”, he whispered before letting her fall again. She fought to get up but failed due to the horrendous curse still causing her pain. Her eyes slowly closed as she passed out on the cold, hard ground.

————————

“Good morning, dears.”, said Molly, cheerfully entering the kitchen after having forced everybody to get up at first light. She had been under extreme stress lately but seemed to be in a much better mood today and the rest of the family knew why - (y/n) was coming home. Sure, that didn’t take away from the fact that the upcoming wedding meant a lot of hard work and careful planning, but having her oldest daughter home would at least help ease Mrs Weasley’s worry. “She’s not back yet, is she?”

“No, mum”, yawned Fred. “but-”

“She said she wouldn’t be back before lunch.”, finished George tiredly.

Their mother didn’t answer, but muttered something incoherent and went to prepare breakfast.

————————

Hours passed as the family worked to get everything ready, both for the wedding and for Harry’s birthday. Molly was so busy with preparations that she completely lost track of time, however, Fred & George started sharing worried glances around 10 am. Bill eventually noticed and had, a few hours later, become way too curious.

“Why do you two keep looking at the clock every other minute?”, he asked. “She said ‘lunch-time’, that could mean another 2-3 hours? Besides, it’s not like you to worry?”

“Well…it’s just…”

“Whenever (y/n/n) lets mum know when she thinks she’ll come home, she usually adds a few hours, sometimes an entire day.”

“That way, when she ends up being slightly late, mum doesn’t immediately lose it…”

“To be honest, we were kind of expecting her in time for breakfast, definitely before noon.”

Bill pulled his hand through his long hair (which he had not allowed his mother and her scissors to come close to) and glanced quickly out the window before looking back at his younger brothers. “Well, there’s not much we can do at the moment, is there? She’s smart and strong. Besides, it’s best not to get worried too easily, it’s probably just that dim-witted head of the department forcing her to work overtime.”

————————

(y/n) groaned loudly as she slowly pushed herself up. She felt dizzy, her entire body hurt and she had no idea where she was. Actually, scratch that last bit. Looking around, she realized she was in a field of some sort and could see burned parts of the now broken carriage they had used to transport the prisoners. Her hair was dripping wet due to the heavy rain and she was freezing. (y/n) struggled to stand and tried to determine roughly where they could have been when they were attacked. She knew that they had travelled northeast from London, towards Norwich, and that they probably hadn’t made it much further than Chelmsford. Her exact location didn’t really matter, though. It’s not like she could walk from London to Ottery St. Catchpole. That would take like two, maybe three, weeks in her current state - and that’s if she made it at all. No, she’d have to apparate, just not the entire distance in one go.

————————

“Bill, dear”, said Molly worriedly. “When did your sister say she’d be back from work?”

“I- I’m not sure”, Bill stuttered, as he sped down the stairs. “Around… dinnertime, I think?”

“What?”, asked Ron. “You said she said lunchtime!?”

Bill threw his head back and sighed as Fred kicked his younger brother under the table.

“Oh”, mumbled Ron, finally understanding. “Yeah, Bill’s right. She definitely said the evening.”

————————

But, dinnertime came and passed. Still no (y/n). When she still hadn't made it home a few days later, the Weasleys were forced to simply accept that something more serious had happened and just try to keep their hopes up. Molly, naturally, refused. Arthur had, while at work, done his very best to contact the other aurors that had been working that night, but unfortunately remained unsuccessful due to the now tense and strained situation at the ministry. Fleur had suggested delaying the wedding, but Bill insisted, claiming that this gave them even more of a reason to do it while they still had the chance. He could, however, barely stand the thought of not having one of his sisters there; it was difficult enough that Percy refused to come…

————————

She didn’t know how much time had passed, maybe a week, but eventually found herself slowly approaching her childhood home. After taking a few heavy steps, she stumbled slightly and would have tripped if not for two strong arms firmly grabbing her shoulders to keep her standing. She should probably be scared but somehow knew not to fight them.

“(y/n/n)!? Bloody hell, what in Merlin’s name happened to you?”

“Charlie?”, she gasped and grabbed her older brother’s coat as her legs suddenly gave out. “Is it really you?”

“Yeh, of course, it’s me.”, he put his sister’s arm over his shoulders. “(y/n/n), I literally just came home, where have you been? What happened? Who did this to you?”

“Work, attacked, Rockwood”

He looked her up and down with a pained expression on his face. “Okay, come on - let’s get indoors.”

They walked slowly, Charlie carefully making sure that (y/n) didn’t fall and simultaneously pepping her with questions. “How long have you been away? When were you supposed to get back to mum and dad’s?”

“Ehhh… I-I don’t know… A couple of days ago, maybe? It’s all kind of hazy right now, to be honest.”

“Holy Merlin… But wha-”

“Charlie, sorry”, she coughed slightly, “but would you mind if we wait? Mum and dad are going to want to hear everything and I don’t wanna have to relive it more times than needed…”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He knocked carefully on the door, and it was only a matter of seconds before Arthur slowly opened it. He had his wand in a tight grip and was about to have Charlie confirm his identity when he noticed the state of the person standing next to his son. Their father’s eyes widened in shock and he looked absolutely horrified.

“Molly! Bill!!”

(y/n) hadn’t heard such fear in her father’s voice since Ginny had been taken into the chamber of secrets four years earlier. He swallowed deeply. “Come in, quickly.”

Charlie put his sister on the sofa just as their mother, older brother and the twins came running down the stairs. They all grinned happily when they saw Charlie, but the smiles faded almost instantly.

“(y/n/n)?” George effortlessly jumped over an old armchair and kneeled by the couch. “Are you okay?” He removed some blood from her face using the sleeve of his jumper.

She smiled and nodded weakly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t” *cough* “don’t worry. What happened to your ear?”.

Bill and Charlie embraced each other quickly while Molly joined George on the floor. The two oldest brothers both glanced at their sister. She lay so incredibly still; completely motionless save for her steady breathing. Just as those thoughts crossed his mind, Charlie noticed something and was about to point it out when Bill beat him to it.

The oldest brother had walked over to join his family by the sofa and placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “(y/n/n)? You’re twitching.”

“I know.” She sighed deeply. “It’ll pass, though.

He looked deep into her eyes and fought to keep eye contact when he whispered, “was it-”

“Yes”, she answered honestly. “But, Bill, I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s okay. Besides, it was way worse a few days ago… Speaking of which, what day is it?”

“Wednesday”, said Molly bitterly, obviously understanding the meaning of the words just exchanged between her oldest son and daughter, but deciding not to push it further. “10 days. 10 days, (y/n/n). Not a word?”

“I’m sorry, mum. Truly.” She then explained everything, from the detailed plan to the overwhelming defeat. “Imagine if we had taken them down instead?” She put her head in her hands and sighed sadly. “Imagine how many people will die now, because we let them all go.”

“Sweetie”, sighed Arthur, taking her hands in his. ”You didn’t ‘let them go’. You did everything you could.”

She closed her eyes sadly. “Not enough, dad.”

“(y/n/n)”, said Bill seriously. “You can’t think like that. We’re at war, we can’t go in expecting to keep everybody safe. There will be casualties. Some of the death eaters didn’t make it either. Think instead of all the people who will survive the war now thanks to you.”

“Bill, I know for a fact that Rockwood and Dolohov got away. We’re all…”, she glanced carefully at her mother. “All aware that they won’t hesitate to kill. A-”

“It’s not like they’re invincible now?”, Fred interrupted. “(y/n/n), you’ll get another chance. Just rest now, please. You’ll be back in the field in no time, and it’ll be like this never happened.”

“Sure, bu-”

“No!”, said Molly with a firm tone. “No buts! Fred is right, you need to rest, dear.” She kissed her daughter on her forehead and left the room. The others took that as a sign and left the room with a quick ‘sleep tight’ or ‘g’night’.

(y/n) Weasley tried to listen to her family and put this minor setback behind her. She managed it for a while. At least until that fateful day of the final battle between good and bad. The day when the consequences of her failure became clear. The day her younger brother lost his life because of her.

~ L

Masterlist

Mischief Managed

Nox

485 notes · View notes

buckyhoney · 3 years

Text

𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i haven't written for frank in a very long time, here is my favorite man <3

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: frank castle x reader

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤/𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 & 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝! 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭/𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, language, thigh riding, praise kink, authority kink, spanking, degrading kink,

74. “the only way you’re getting off is on my thigh” + 124. “don’t pretend to be so innocent”

You had dug yourself into a hole. The smart ass comments and undermining his authority in front of David.

David thought about how brave you were for talking back to Frank, but Frank didn't think so.

The moment his jaw clenched, and the glare shot your way, you knew you were done. Crossing his arms and carrying on with the conversation, you sunk back into your chair. Thinking about all the ways Frank would make you pay.

The tension between you on the drive home was thick enough to cut. Frank's hand didn't rest on your thigh, and his eyes stayed on the road.

Pulling into the driveway, Frank turns off the truck.

"When I get inside, I want you undressed. Go." His voice was just above a whisper but gritty and raspy.

Grabbing your bag, you quickly got out of the car and raced inside. Dropping your purse on the counter and kicking off your shoes, you made your way upstairs.

Frank took a deep breath and got out of the truck.

Sitting completely bare on the edge of the bed, you sat nervously. Your nipples harden at the cool air hitting your naked chest.

You could hear Frank coming up the stairs, and with each step, your heartbeat picked up.

"Good girl, you listened to orders- if only you did that tonight." His words stung as he undid his belt and pulled off his shirt.

He motioned for you to stand up; as you did, he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You broke the rules, sweetheart. You know what happens next." This is what you secretly loved, spankings.

Swallowing hard, you laid across his lap. Preparing yourself for the first spank- cunt dampening with every minute.

"Don't pretend to be so innocent. We both know you enjoy getting this ass spanked." The belt stung against your bare skin.

Helpless whimpers fell from your lips, and your grip on his leg tightened.

"Count them." Another smack.

"Two!" You cried, holding back moans.

Frank added two more in a row; the sting of the leather belt made your arousal coat your inner thighs.

"Four!" Each spanking made it harder to keep back the pleasure; he was ruthless and took joy in making that ass raw.

Frank loved seeing you vulnerable underneath him, being in charge of your pleasure- deciding the next thing- and you loved not knowing what would happen next. He kept the punishments and rewards new and fresh, keeping you on your toes.

A small wet patch on his leg caused him to stop in his tracks.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He spreads open your thighs, finding your cunt glistening with arousal and your tiny hole pulsating around nothing.

"Such a dirty slut, getting off on spankings? I should just send you to bed with nothing-" Before he could finish your protest,

"No! Please-" Frank is taken back by the sudden outburst.

Turning around quickly, Frank pulls your body up, placing you on his thigh. The devilish smile appears across his face, knowing that you weren't gonna get exactly what you wanted.

What you really wanted was Frank's cock buried deep inside your cunt. Stretching your walls- while your hands were pinned above your head- begging for him to fill your needy pussy.

"You want to cum, huh, pretty girl? Want my cock inside you?" He taunted you, bucking his thigh upward- making you moan unexpectedly.

"So pathetic." He laughs, bucking them once more.

You grab onto his shoulders for stability; you roll your hips against his thigh- whining into his shoulder.

"Get comfortable. The only way you're getting off is on my thigh." Whimpering, you roll your bare cunt against his jeans.

The rough material rubbing against your clit made your eyes flutter back and your legs shakey. Frank's jeans were tight as his cock twitched and throbbed- realizing that he wouldn't be cumming inside you either.

Guiding your hips, Frank's nails dug into your skin. The whines and whimpers filled his ear as you bit down, trying to slow down the pleasure. The knot in your stomach tightening the faster your hips rolled.

"Atta girl, so desperate to cum you're humping my thigh." Frank groaned, smacking your ass one last time.

The waves of pleasure crash into your body, legs shaking and body going numb- Frank coos in your ear, slowing your hips.

"There it is, there you go." His tone changes to a more soothing tone.

"Frank..." You whimper, clinging to his body.

"It's okay, sweetheart, you did so well." Praying that following the orders and taking your punishment would allow you to have his cock- but you should have known him better than that.

"Still not having my cock. Next time maybe you'll listen to me." Frank smiles, pulling you off his leg, running to the other room to get a towel to clean you up.

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indiee19 · 3 years

Text

This Waiting Is Driving Me Wild

Alex Turner x reader

Summary: A buzzed haired Alex teases you all throughout an awards event; you reject him at first, and he makes you regret it later.

warnings: smut, light bondage, spit kink, edging

word count: 5.6k

-Requested from Wattpad

a/n: I have no damn clue if the kink shit is correct, so don't mind that, also I may change it later, so who knows

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You felt anticipation build up in the pit of your stomach whenever they announced the nominees for the best alternative album of 2018 category: Colors by Beck, Masseduction by St. Vincent, and Tranquility Base Hotel + Casino by Arctic Monkeys.

You held your breath, every inch of your body hoping for Alex's band to win, then they called the winner.

"And the winner is ... Tranquility Base Hotel + Casino by the Arctic Monkeys," the presenter called, stopping in between words to read the winner of off the card. You and everybody else in the room clapped and as the band stood up, Alex gave you a kiss, then walked up to the stage with the rest of the band to accept the award.

He winked at you while he was walking up the stairs without anyone but you knowing, making you blush. He walked up to the stand and took the microphone from the lady, beginning to speak. "One, two. One, two, there we go. Well, I would first of all like to thank everyone who has supported us by listening to the album, buying it, and coming to our shows. I'm very glad that you all enjoyed it enough for us to win, and for that, I'd like to say thank you, this truly does mean a lot," he said, Matt and Nick chattering behind him.

Alex said thank you one last time before they walked off stage, walking back to the table, sitting down beside you. He placed a chaste kiss on your cheek, placing the award down on the table. They soon started to call the next award nominees, and most everyone paid attention to it, you included. Alex on the other hand was watching you and you saw out of the corner of your eye that he licked his lips, one of his hands coming up to your thigh, rubbing dangerously close to the hem of your dress, coming closer and closer to go under it.

You quickly grabbed his hand and pushed it away, leaning over to tell him something. "Alex, we can't, not here, not now. We're at an awards event, one where your album is nominated," you said sternly. He bit his lip and looked as if he was deep in though, which he normally was, always coming up with the perfect response to everything.

"But, baby, you look so sexy and I don't know how much longer I can wait to 'ave you," he said, whispering in your ear, rubbing your thigh again. You moved your hand over his to top him from moving up your thigh. You turned to pay more attention to the rest of the awards ceremony.

They called the next category and said the nominees' names, another host going up to the stage to announce the winner, everyone clapping their hands, you included, when they did. While the winner was giving a small speech, Alex leaned over and kissed your neck lightly, making you look back him and give him a glare as a warning to stop. He just smirked, knowing just how to get you riled up.

He leaned over, whispering another profanity in your ear. "Baby, you look so sexy in that dress. I can't wait to have you."

"Well, you have to wait," you replied, kissing his cheek, grabbing his hand to stop him from moving any further up your leg. You looked into his eyes, waiting for him to respond, but he didn't.

You tried to be patient, hoping that he would realize that you couldn't do anything with him at the moment, and maybe not at all tonight since you would get home late and be really tired - or at least that's what you thought.

The winner walked off stage and they started to announce the next category. Though as you watched and listened, Alex started back up again with his teasing, his hand now going up your dress, ignoring your previous warnings, finding its way to the hemline of your panties, toying with it.

"Alex," you warned, grabbing his wrist to stop him from going any further than he already was. "I told you, you have to wait until we get home."

"But, baby, this waiting is driving me wild, and I know that it's driving you wild too, can't tell me otherwise," he said, getting more confident at the end of the statement. You laughed. "No, it's not actually. Because, unlike you, I'm not horny twenty-four seven," you said, turning away.

"Don't lie to me, I know 'ow horny you get. Remember the 2014 BRITS?" he said nonchalantly, whispering in your ear. You lied and said you didn't, but you did.

"God, Alex, please just take me already," you moaned, his tip teasing your entrance. You'd begged all throughout the awards ceremony for him to take you to the bathroom and fuck you, and he finally gave in, escaping the after party, leaving and going home.

He was now teasing you, making sure that you were a whimpering mess for him. He cocked his head and pushed himself all the way inside you.

It was a very, very long night.

"Yes, you do. You're thinking about it now, aren't you?" he said, kissing your cheek. You rolled your eyes and tried your best to ignore him, pushing his hands away, dodging his kisses, tuning him out, insisting that you talk to Katie and Jamie instead.

You were able to make it through another thirty minutes of the ceremony, Alex taking a break from being a narcissistic, horny, teasing asshole. Though after the thirty minutes was gone, he started right back where he started. It didn't matter how many times you told him no, your warnings only fueled him even more, getting bolder and bolder each time.

He leaned over to you when no one was looking, everyone else far too focused on the stage. "Baby, when we get home, I'm going to fuck you up," he whispered, gripping your thigh tightly. Though his words weren't abnormal for him, they did take you by surprise. You looked at him, surprised by his boldness to do that in front of everyone.

"Alex," you said, giving him a warningly look. He just smirked, more than likely planning how he was going to get you to beg for him by the end of the night.

He of course continued this behavior the rest of the awards show, making sure to tease you, placing kisses to your neck when no one was looking, whispering dirty profanities in your ear, rubbing up your thigh, eventually going under your dress to play with them hemline of your underwear .... again.

The event had ended and you and Alex were now at the after party, even though you hated parties. You were talking to Kelly and Nick, the only thing that would keep you sane at the moment, and you were congratulating Nick on the awards that they had won tonight. "Congratulations, Nick. You all deserve the award so, so much," you said.

"Oh, it's really nothing, but thank you anyways," he said, waving it off. Him and Kelly walked over to Jamie and Katie to talk to them, leaving you alone. You decided to go and find Alex, haven't had seen him in the past thirty minutes, wondering where he was.

You looked around for at least ten minutes, asking anyone you knew where he was, most of them not knowing themselves. You finally found him talking with Miles, who would have thought. The two most amazing friends hanging out together, you should have known.

Alex's back was facing you, so Miles noticed you first. "Oh, hey, love," he said, making Alex turn around. "Hey, Mi. Do you mind if I steal Alex away from you for just a minute?" you said, holding Alex's arm. He shook his head no and got up, leaving you and Alex alone.

"Alex, can we leave?" you asked. He smirked, taking your request the wrong way, thinking that you wanted him now. "You finally came to your senses, I see," he smirked, grabbing you by the waist, kissing your neck while no one was looking. You pushed him away for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

"No, Alex, not like that. I mean that I'm tired and want to go home," you explained. But he of course wouldn't take that as an answer, thought that you were just begging him for him to take you. He kept saying that you weren't tired and just decided that you wanted him, saying that you both could go to the bathroom instead of going home and leaving.

You kept trying to convince him, kept trying to prove that you were tired and you even brought up the fact that you hated parties to try and convince him.

Finally, you convinced him, and he was ready to take you home. "Fine, just let me have a smoke and we'll leave," he said, couldn't believe that you didn't want him. You nodded and stayed seated while he went outside to smoke.

You waited patiently - twenty-two minutes went by and still no Alex. You decided to go and look for him, then head out to the car. You quickly said goodbye to everyone and walked outside, immediately seeing Alex. He was done with his smoke, seemingly waiting for you. "You ready to leave, darling?" he asked, smirking, still not believing that you wanted to go home because you were tired.

"Yes, I am, Al," you said, taking his hand, Alex leading you to the car, opening the door for you, walking around to the other side to get in, starting the car. And finally, after three long hours of his teasing, it was time to leave and go home, and just like before, Alex of course had to tease you to his fullest extent. "Can't believe that you didn't want me earlier," he said, his voice suggestive.

"I always want you, Al, but I'm tired. I'm ready for bed," you said. You were very tired, the amount of interviews Alex was in tonight, the waiting, killed you, the amount of times you had to push Alex's hand away and tell him no, and then the after party that you had practically begged for Alex to take you home. And Alex being, well, Alex, took your begs as requests for him to take you home and fuck you, and you had to convince him that it was because you were tired, which took a lot of convincing that wore you out.

You were glad when you and Alex finally got home, you were ready to go to bed, but Alex had other plans, immediately slamming you against the wall, kissing you deeply. If you were tired before, you surely weren't now, the heat of the kiss waking you up fully from your sleepy state.

He grabbed the underside of your thighs, signaling for you to jump and you did. Alex carried you down the hallway all the way into the bedroom, almost throwing you on the bed. He began to rid you of your clothes, leaving you in just your bra and underwear, kissing you everywhere he could. You tried to unbutton his shirt, but he quickly pushed your hands away, not allowing you to touch him.

Alex leaned down and captured you lips in a hard, passionate kiss, you hands going around his neck, scratching at the fuzz on the back of his neck. He bit you bottom lip, slipping his tongue past your lips, exploring you mouth. You could taste the wine and beer he'd had at the event, as well as the last cigarette he smoked right before you left the after party.

You felt him hard against your leg, his cock straining in his tight trousers. He pulled away from the steamy kiss unexpectedly, starting to crawl down your body, kissing down your neck, collarbone, breasts, stomach, stopping at your abdomen, just above where you needed him, the ache between your legs more prominent than it had been all night long.

He looked up at you, your eyes locking with his. "Alex, please," you begged, desperate for him now.

"Look who's begging for me to fuck you now," he smirked, the cocky tone in his voice obvious. You begged him some more with your eyes, eventually getting exactly what you wanted. He pulled down your underwear with his teeth, and you kicked them off into the floor. Alex nudged your thighs apart with one of his hands and started to kiss up your thighs, stopping when he reached your core, blowing on it, sending shivers up your body.

He waited a moment, and you were about to beg him again, but he quickly dipped his head down, placing wet, sloppy kisses to your heat, using his hands to hold your thighs as far apart they could go. And then his tongue lapped at your folds, spreading around your arousal.

He moved down to your dripping wet cunt, sticking his tongue inside of you, knowing how crazy it would drive you. You gripped the sheets, balling them up in your fists, needing to have something to hold on to, his hair not nearly long enough for you to do that.

Alex lifted his head up from your heat, wiping his face that was slick with your arousal. "Knew you wanted me. You're so wet, baby," he drawled, looking at the mess he had made of you in barely seven minutes.

He dipped his head back down to your heat again, his hands gripping your thighs tightly, holding them far apart. His tongue kept poking inside of you, and you writhed underneath him, the feeling too good, he was too good.

He moved his mouth back over to your clit, sucking it into his mouth, quickly replacing his tongue with two of his fingers, starting to pump them in and out of you slowly, setting a pace to your dismay. Though the pace wasn't nearly what you wanted, it drove you wild. He'd done this so many times, drove you wild so many times, that he knew exactly how to drive you mad, knew exactly how to make you feel so good.

You started to absent mindly grind your hips on his face, desperate to try and get his fingers to go faster in and out of you and to sink deeper inside of you. Alex chuckled against your skin, vibrations shooting up your body, and he took one of his hands and placed it on your hip to hold you down.

He quickly started to move his fingers faster, your orgasm getting closer and closer. "Alex, I-I'm so close," you said, voice trailing off into a moan as he had pressed down on your clit. He pressed down on your clit harder and with that, you shook, your orgasm washing over you.

You gripped the sheets tighter and wrapped your legs around Alex's head, his hand still on your hips. He kept moving his fingers, and you rode out your high. Alex sat up, removing his fingers from you and you whimpered at the loss of contact. He sat up, wiping his face that was, once again, slick with your arousal. You looked up at him, meeting eyes with him, seeing only lust in them. "How many do you think you can do?" Alex asked, removing his shirt, standing up to remove the rest of his clothes, leaving his bandanna neck scarf, which you didn't think much of at the moment, and you wasted no time before sitting up to help him out of his pants, stroking his cock when you removed his boxers.

He was painfully hard, precum forming on his tip that was a slight reddish purple color. He pushed you back down on the bed, sitting over your hips, straddling you. "I think that I can do th-three - oh," you said, moaning when he pushed your legs apart and pushed himself inside you, his head dropping down on your shoulder, biting down on it, sure to leave a mark.

He gave you very little time to fully adjust, starting to move once he regained some of his composure. He pulled almost all the way out of you before slamming back into you, gripping your hip with one hand, the other one holding himself above you.

Your hands ghosted over his toned chest, stopping at his broad shoulders, gripping onto them tightly, your nails digging into his skin. Alex started moving faster - much, much faster. Your eyes closed automatically, the way his cock stroked your walls felt too good, driving you mad. One of your hands moved up to the back of his head, scratching at the fuzz on his freshly buzzed head.

Your moans got louder as he fucked you harder, faster, and more mercilessly, taking good care of you like he always did. Alex's hand that was on your hip moved to rub vigorously on your clit, thrusting in and out of you faster and faster. Alex delivered a very hard thrust, hitting the spongey spot that made you see stars, flicking your clit, sending you over the edge.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, your grip on his shoulders tightening, so much so that you were sure that you would leave a mark. You rode out your high, Alex's movements not even slowing, but going faster.

Moans fell from your mouth, getting louder and louder. You'd just come down from your second orgasm, you were tired and sore and wore out, and you didn't know how much more you could take. Alex's head dropped down on your shoulder, placing kisses to it, eventually settling on a spot and sucking harshly on it.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your feet locking at the back, and you started to grind onto him to meet his movements, the pleasure becoming too much for you to handle. A knot started to build up in the pit of your stomach, your third orgasm approaching you faster than the previous two had.

"God, love, you feel so fucking good," Alex grunted, punctuating each word with a hard thrust, flicking your clit along with each thrust. And with that, you shook, your third orgasm washing over you, riding out the intense waves of pleasure. You felt pure euphoria and bliss. You held onto Alex tightly, your legs tightening as your cunt contracted around him, drawing him in, holding him close.

You came down from your orgasm, opening your tightly shut eye, Alex's movements stopping. You untangled your legs and unwrapped your arms from around him, and he pulled out of you, sitting up on his knees, gripping the base of his cock tightly. He was clearly struggling to hold on himself, the sight of you coming undone just enough for him, and the sight could've solely made him come undone.

"Turn around, doll. On all fours," he drawled, motioning for you to turn around. You looked at him, didn't know how much more you could take, thought that you both agreed on three. "A-Alex, I don't know how much more-" you tried to say, but he cut you off.

"You can take it, and you will take it," he said. You hesitantly sat up, turning around. You looked over your shoulder at Alex. He was lining himself up with your entrance; you felt his tip poking inside of you, making you whimper out. "A-Alex."

He smirked and pushed inside you, bottoming out in one swift thrust. His hand soothed down your back, finding its way to your shoulder and he gripped it tightly, starting to thrust almost immediately. You closed your eyes tightly, the feeling already starting to become too good.

You moaned loudly when Alex began to thrust into you hardly, moving his hand from your shoulder to your hair, gripping it. His pace increased gradually, each thrust getting faster and harder. "Yes, fuck, baby, you're so wet for me," Alex groaned, somehow increasing his pace.

"A-Alex ... fuck ... faster," you whimpered, feeling a knot form in the pit of your stomach, your orgasm approaching very, very quickly.

"Givin' orders now, are we?" Alex spat, slowing his pace before slamming back into you hardly.

"I-I'm sorry," you whimpered. Alex moved his hand that was on your hip to your clit, rubbing harshly on it, and his hand that was in your hair moved down to cup your throat, pulling you flat against his chest. Sweat pooled on Alex's chest and forehead. His hand that was on your neck moved around your body to grab your breast, fondling it.

You needed something to hold on to, so your grabbed his arm that was across your front, holding on tightly, your other hand moving to the back of his head, scratching at the fuzz on his nape.

Alex's thrusts got faster and harder, and he rubbed more vigorously on your clit. You were so close, could practically taste your orgasm approaching. Alex thrusted up into you and that was almost enough for you, just one more and you were gone. But before you could, Alex stopped his movements and pulled out of you.

You were confused, had thought that he needed his release just as much as you, so you slowly turned around to face him and you propped yourself up on your elbows. "Alex, w-why'd you stop?" you questioned. He was looking you up and down.

"You was getting way too grabby for me liking," he drawled, crawling back over you. He removed his bandanna from around his neck, grabbing your wrists, bringing them up to the headrest, tying your hands to it with his bandanna. "There, that's better, innit?" he said, sitting up and straddling your hips once again, looking at the sight of you in front of him.

He started to kiss down your body, biting and leaving marks wherever he could. Once he reached your abdomen, he moved down to your heat, placing wet, sloppy kisses to your heat once again. His tongue lapped at your folds, spreading around your arousal. His hands gripped your thighs and you pulled on your restraints, desperate to hold onto something as leverage.

Alex moved down to your entrance, sticking his tongue inside of you, beginning to fuck you with it. One of his hands moved to your abdomen to keep your hips down after you started to grind on his face again, and he started to rub on your clit with his thumb on that hand. He was making you feel so, so good, but then again, when didn't he make you feel amazing?

Your moans got louder as he rubbed on your clit and moved his tongue faster, gripping your thigh tightly with his other hand. Soon he removed his hands from you altogether and moved his tongue back to your folds, pressing down on your clit with it, instead using his fingers to fuck you, moving them in and out of you at an alarmingly fast rate. He never let you get used to a feeling for very long, alternating between pressing down on your clit and moving his fingers quickly to lapping at your folds and slowing his fingers.

As you kept tugging on your restraint, the headrest started to bang against the wall, the noise echoing through the room, filling it along with your moans and whimpers. You instinctively wrapped your legs around Alex's head, drawing him in closer. He chuckled against your skin, send vibrations up your body, tipping you over the edge.

You tugged harshly on your wrists, the waves of pleasure washing over you. You moaned loudly, tightening your legs around Alex's head, crying out his name over and over. "F-fuck, Alex, fuck," you whimpered.

You came down from your high, and you were so sure, positive even, that Alex had had enough and would give you a break, but no, he kept going, moving his fingers and lapping at your folds like nothing had happened. Because to him, nothing did happen, so he just kept on.

He moved his fingers faster, curling and twisting them deep inside of you, making you cry out his name. The feeling of his fingers stroking your walls just right, the feeling of his mouth covering you heat over and over made you feel an indescribable feeling of pleasure. You were absolutely positive that there was a mark on your wrists from Alex's bandanna and were sure that Alex had many various handprints decorating your body which would no doubt last at least a week, maybe even more.

Alex had begun to suck your clit into his mouth, occasionally pressing down on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Alex looked up at you, and your eyes met and he saw just how amazing he was making you feel and he smirked against your skin, and you could feel him do it too. HIs grip on your abdomen had loosened up quite a bit and you started to grind onto his face again, trying get his fingers to sink deeper into you, to get some sort of friction since he ceased all movement of his fingers. Surprisingly, he didn't make you stop, he just let you move your hips freely. allowing you to make yourself feel good on his fingers. Though, in the back of your mind you knew that he wasn't stopping you for a reason, no doubt planning another way to make you come undone for him by his own means, his own rules, and by his own doing.

You were so close, nearly there, just needed to feel him curl his fingers inside of you, which he did while you were moving your hips, one more time. You were just about to let go whenever he stopped, pulling away from your heat, removing his fingers, making you whimper, and he sat up, leaving you barely on the edge, your orgasm so close, but so far away as it began to fade away.

"Wh-what? N-no, no, Alex," you said, your need to let go growing quickly by every passing second, the need to feel him inside you growing as well. "What, doll? What do you need?" Alex asked as he moved over you, his arms keeping him above you.

"I-I need you," you whimpered, Alex's promise of saying that he was going to 'fuck you up' coming true.

"'ow bad do you need me?" he drawled, slowly kissing up your neck, biting down on a spot. You whimpered. "I need you s-so bad, Alex." He chuckled, thinking of something for a moment, quickly giving telling what you needed to do. "You want me, then spit in me mouth," he said nonchalantly.

You were confused for a moment. You knew that he had a spitting kink, but he never showed any part of it in all the time that you two were together. You took a moment to think about it before you nodded and he opened his mouth and you spat in his mouth. You weren't proud of what you just did, but if it meant that Alex would fuck you, then you didn't care.

"Oh, and one more thing, baby ... you 'ave to promise me that you won't come until I say you can, okay?" Alex said. You nodded, how hard could that be?

He nodded in response before nudging your thighs apart with his hand and you sighed whenever he aligned himself up with your entrance, giving himself a few tugs before pushing inside you, bottoming out in two pushes. His head fell down on your shoulder, reveling in the feeling of your walls contracting around his cock, stretching to accommodate for his size.

Once he regained some sort of control, he pulled almost all the way out of you, slamming back inside you very quickly, starting to set a very, very fast pace. You pulled on your wrists again, hoping that maybe you'd loosened the knot that Alex had tied them in the bandanna with. You wanted your hands free of it, needed to touch him, to hold on to something, only if he would untie you.

His hands were firmly planted in the mattress beside your head, holding him up above you. You closed your eyes tightly, reveling in the way Alex's cock stroked your walls so good, but they quickly opened whenever Alex stopped moving. "Alex?" you asked, searching for his eyes.

"I want you to look at me the entire time, alright?" he said, and you quickly nodded, desperate for him to move again.

Alex started to move again, his eyes never once leaving your own. You tried your best to hold on, trying to fulfill his wish of you not to let go until he said so. But the feeling was getting to be too much for you, the knot forming in your stomach once again. The way he was stroking your oversensitive walls, thrusting into you hardly was enough for you, and you let go, eyes rolling into the back of your head, your walls contracting around Alex's cock, riding out your high.

Your moans filled the room and you came down from your high, opening your eyes. You were sure that Alex wouldn't give you anything else, wouldn't give you what you wanted having done the one thing he said not to do. You were panting heavily now, the feeling too overwhelming, too much for you to handle.

"Done?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at you.

"Yes," you managed to say, avoiding his eyes.

"Good," he said nonchalantly. Alex leaned down to kiss you, it wasn't a deep kiss, but instead it was a soft, slow, and passionate kiss, full of his love and adoration for you. He pulled away and pushed a piece of your hair out of your face, smiling down at you. "You think you can do one more, love?" he asked. You were tired and sore and worn out, having been pushed over the edge several times already and weren't fully sure if you could do one more, even though it was just one. But there was something about the way he asked you, the way he smiled, and you couldn't say no to him, especially with the way he was looking at you right now.

"Y-yeah, I can do one more," you choked out. Alex mumbled something incoherent before starting to move slowly. He knew how sensitive you were now and didn't want to do anything that might cause even the slightest bit of discomfort to you, but still making sure that you felt amazing.

The mood in the room had juristically changed. He was still dominant and had all the control, but he wasn't spitting out demands or teasing you anymore, just focused now on getting the two of you there, wanting you to feel good.

Though he didn't want to cause you discomfort, he did start to increase his pace, not by much, but going faster than before and one of his hands came down in between your bodies to rub light circles in sync with his thrusts on your clit, applying more pressure ever so slightly to it every now and then. He had just restarted his movements and you were already so close to the edge again. It took just one flick of your clit and Alex's cock nudging that spot inside you that had stayed unattended to before and that sent you spiraling.

Your walls contracted around his cock for the last time of the night, drawing him in, triggering his own release. You felt his cock twitch inside of you and you felt his hot release coat your walls as he groaned, the both riding out you highs. You felt pure euphoria and bliss once again as you came down, Alex coming down from his high as well, head falling on your shoulder. He laid on top of you for a few minutes, regaining some of his strength before pulling out of you with a sigh, laying down beside you. You were panting heavily, pulling on your wrists once again. "Alex," you sighed.

He looked at you, saying your name, looking you up and down, starring at your restraints. "Oh, I'll untie you," he said, reaching up and untying your wrists, throwing his scarf on the ground, pulling you close to him even though you were both hot, sweat pooling on Alex's forehead and chest.

"C'mere, me love," he said, holding you tightly. Even though you had come down from your orgasm, you were still panting heavily, trying to breath. "Hey, hey, breath, me love, breath. I've got you," Alex said calmly, rubbing your hair comfortingly.

You both sat there for a minute so that you could catch your breath. once you did catch your breath, you laid your head on Alex's chest. "I love you, Al," you said, looking up at him.

"I love you, too, me love," he said kissing you lovingly. "Are you alright? Did I 'urt you?"

You shook your head. "You could never hurt me, Alex," you said. "But, now I'm really tired and want to sleep, so can we talk in the morning?"

"Yeah, love, we can. Goodnight," Alex responded, pulling the duvet over you two. You told him goodnight and soon fell asleep in his arms, him following not long after you.

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