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earlgreydream · 3 years

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brat.

| Bucky Barnes x reader | smut |

warnings: smut, mild degradation (not meant seriously), spanking, dom/sub dynamic, general chaos

a/n: I can’t deal with the pressure of my life, I need James Buchanan Barnes to make me let it go

Bucky had been agitated since you had sent him naughty photos of yourself while he was in the middle of a meeting. He had glanced at his phone and immediately turned it face down and continued speaking. After the meeting, he sat at his desk, looking at the photos you’d sent. His favorite was one where you had your tits out, wearing just little black panties, along with a black ribbon tied around your neck.

He’d originally been the one to tie the ribbon around your neck, about a year ago. He’d hooked his fingers in the satin and dragged you forward like it was a collar, making you blush and shy.

Now, you wore the ribbon around your neck whenever you were in the particular mood for Bucky to make you feel owned.

You were always under constant stress and pressure to perform well, having to control and manage everything, both at work and school. The only place where you could let it go, relinquish all control, was in the bedroom with Bucky... or on the kitchen counters, the bathroom of a club, his desk at work, and anywhere else he could get his hands on you.

When you were alone with Bucky, you became playful, soft, and sweet, and it turned him on to no end. Bucky truly thought you were the most gorgeous and hottest girl in the universe, and he practically worshipped you.

That is, except when you were being a needy brat, like today. Sending him naughty photos at work (unprompted) was strictly against your rules, and you knew you played a dangerous game with him. Bucky wasn’t one to play around when it came to testing the boundaries.

Secretly, that was why you did it. You wanted Bucky riled up, to come home and be rough with you. You wanted him hard and unrelenting, to have you screaming and writhing for him. You were tense from your stressful week, and he was too, and there was no better solution in your mind to release that built up tension.

He shut off his phone as his boss walked in, asking him about a project, and Bucky struggled to focus on what he was being told, too distracted by the image of your soft tits swirling in his mind.

“Thanks, Barnes.”

“Yeah, sure.” He called back half-heartedly, picking his phone back up once he was alone.

~you’re going to fucking regret that, baby~

~I doubt it. X~

He was practically seething at your response, ideas of how to get you in line already forming. He was fed up with your bratty attitude, and his annoyance just built over the course of the afternoon.

When he was finally finished with work, he drove home faster than normal. The door smacked loudly against the wall when he entered, alerting you he was mad. Your heart jumped in your chest, and you felt a pang of regret at your insolence.

“Y/N!” Bucky’s voice echoed, and you nervously walked down the hallway in one of his oversized button downs.

He stopped for a moment, taking in the sight of you. You looked small and meek, innocent in his big shirt. Ribbon was tied around the base of your neck, and your eyes were shining as you gazed up at him.

“Hi, daddy”

He almost melted at the sweet sound of your voice, at the utter innocence you seemed to hold. He dropped his keys in the dish by the door, snapping out of it. He stared at you with a hard gaze, entirely unamused by your earlier behavior. You sank into yourself, taking a step back. He stepped forward, and you continued until he had backed you against the wall outside of your guest bedroom at the end of the hall.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Bucky asked you, waiting for an apology.

I’m sorry daddy, is what you should have said, attempting to win over the last bit of forgiveness he was willing to give you. Instead, you decided to dig yourself into deeper trouble, unable to resist the temptation to goad him by being a brat.

“I could’ve gotten myself off in the time it took you to get home, maybe even more than-” you didn’t even get to finish your sentence before he was on you.

He hooked his fingers into the ribbon, jerking your small body against his. His silver eyes blazed, threatening you to struggle.

“Do you think you’re fucking funny?” He growled, and you stared back at him, suppressing your fear.

“A little, actually.”

That did it.

“Get on your fucking knees, you insolent brat!” He snapped, jerking you downwards so you were kneeling in front of him.

Your knees bit into the hardwood floor, and the ribbon left a faint red ring around your neck from him dragging you by it. His hand went up your neck to your cheek, and you flinched as he sharply tapped your face. It wasn’t enough to be a slap, Bucky would never hit you in a way you didn’t like, but the sharp smack made arousal drip from your core.

You wanted him to run his fingers through your hair to guide you, like he did when he was feeling softer, but you knew that you’d pushed him too far to receive any sort of help.

He grabbed your jaw and forced your mouth open before burying himself in your throat. He did it in one quick movement that had you gagging, choking on his length. Bucky didn’t care about your fight to breathe, snapping his hips at a brutal pace, stretching your throat. You did your best to open for him, but tears slid down your cheeks from your lack of oxygen.

“Y/N, look at you, letting me fuck your throat like a little whore.” His words dripped with condescension and you looked up at him with glassy eyes.

You moaned around him, sending vibrations that pushed him closer to the edge.

“You’re going to swallow, got it?” He ordered and you made a noise of approval, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth. He came in thick spurts, his cock deep in your throat. You swallowed his seed as well as possible, gasping as he pulled out of you. You lost your balance and put a hand on his thigh to steady you. He stepped back, letting you fall forward, barely catching yourself.

You whined in protest, and he grabbed you by the hair and jerked your head back to look up at him. Your chest was heaving as you drew in oxygen, your face was sticky with tears, and your mouth was salty with his taste.

"You look so pretty on your knees for me," Bucky's tone was mocking, a slight Russian accent hanging off his words, a silent threat hanging in the air.

"I did so good, sucking you off like you wanted-" you were about to ask if he'd take care of you now, and he just let out a short laugh.

"You think you're getting off?" He spoke as if it were completely ridiculous.

"Yes?" You tried, and he shook his head.

"Then you shouldn't have been such a little brat. Brats don't get to come."

"But daddy-!" You whined in protest.

Your mouth snapped shut when he dragged you up to your feet and tore his button down off of you. You shivered in the cold air, and his fingers hooked into your panties, pulling them down your legs.

"You're fucking soaked, Y/N. Is this just from sucking me off?" He embarrassed you.

"Y/N!" He snapped when you didn't answer, fed up with your disobedience.

"Yes," you breathed, blinking back fresh tears of anxiety.

"I'll give you something to cry about." He threatened and you bit your lip, knowing it wasn't an empty threat.

"Safeword?" he asked, making sure you were able to communicate with him if it was too much.

"Falcon," you answered obediently and he nodded. He took your wrists in his hands, noticing the way your hands were trembling. He kissed your smooth skin, though his gaze didn't soften.

"On the bed. Now." He pointed, and you bent over the edge of the bed, your ass on display for him. You hid your face in your arms, hiding the embarrassment visible on your cheeks from being so exposed.

A shaky whine escaped as you heard his belt snap, fear prickling up your spine. He watched you squirm on the bed. He knew you hated being smacked with the belt, and he leaned against the wall, watching you nearly lose your mind in anticipation. He was curious to see if you'd continue the bratty behavior, or if this was what would finally cause you to break, and his fingers twitched as he ached to turn your ass pink.

As soon as the tension began to leave your body, and you settled on the mattress, he landed the first blow with the leather on your ass. You screamed both from shock, and the welcome pain that blossomed across your skin.

His dark laughter echoed in your guest bedroom, and chills made your body shudder. You were getting what you wanted, this had been your goal from the beginning. You also knew that you were completely safe, that Bucky loved you dearly, and this was just a bedroom scene, not meant to truly hurt you. Despite both of those facts, the fear was very much real. Bucky was incredibly intimidating, especially when he was mad.

"Four more, alright?"

"Yes, daddy."

Dry sobs burned your throat as he spanked you quickly, leaving pink stripes across your fair skin, but light enough they'd disappear by morning. It was more psychological than physical, and it was causing you to nearly shake with arousal. It was dripping down your legs, and Bucky noticed, adding to the shame of just being spanked. He took a step toward you, squeezing your ass in his large hands, making you whimper in discomfort. He slapped your skin, and you struggled to contain your pained yelps. It wasn’t near as bad as the belt, but the sting spread through your skin as he continued your punishment.

You sighed in relief when he finally finished, wrapping his hand around your throat and pulling you up so your back was against his chest. He gave your throat a squeeze, making your eyes roll back. He kissed your shoulder before biting down into your smooth skin. You squirmed in his grip, mewling softly.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, looking up and meeting his gaze.

“I know you are, baby,” He kissed your mouth for the first time, and you melted into his hold, ignoring your soreness.

“Hands and knees for me, doll.”

He released his grip on you, lightly tapping your thigh to get you to climb up on the bed. You moved onto the bed, but your arms were unsteady, so you dropped down to your elbows, letting your back arch.

“Can’t hold myself up,” you murmured apologetically, not wanting him to think that you were being bratty. He kissed your bum, and you sighed quietly at the tender action.

“I want to come, daddy,” you begged, hoping he had softened.

“I’m sure you do.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing that you weren’t going to get what you want. Bucky’s hands wrapped around your hips, holding you steady as he stood behind you. You squirmed as he rubbed the head of his cock through your folds, a choked noise leaving your throat as he brushed your clit. You were on edge, but you knew if you spilled over, he would spank you until you were bleeding.

He noticed the shudder it caused, and his voice came deep and threatening.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“I won’t!” you promised, wanting to be good for him.

“Better not.”

He thrusted forward, rolling his hips until he was buried all the way in you, making you yell and grip the sheets in front of you. The stretch burned, your body never quite getting used to his size. Usually he eased into you, but he clearly didn’t care about your pleasure right now.

He began to snap his hips against yours, using your body to chase his own release. His hands slipped off of your hips and snaked around to your front, going up to your breasts. He squeezed roughly and pinched your nipples, pulling them between his fingers, making your vision spark. You shrieked at the sensation, and you tightened around him. You held back your orgasm, fighting against the urge to release.

“Your cunt feels so good around me, doll. If you keep squeezing me like that, I’m going to lose my mind,” Bucky murmured, his words getting lost in your mind.

You tightened around him purposely, feeling him twitch before painting your insides with his release. He groaned deeply, continuing with shallow thrusts as he emptied himself into your heat. When he pulled out, he stared at your swollen sex, his release dripping out, and down your thighs. You screamed as he slapped the sensitive area, arching your back. You whimpered out a beg to ease up on you, and he moved you to lay on your back. You were barely there, whimpering out apologies pathetically, and he kissed a line from your belly up to your lips.

“You’re forgiven, doll.” He said, kissing you sweetly.

“Please, I’ll be so good.” You were desperate, throbbing around nothing, and you wanted to release the tension your body held so bad.

Bucky watched you beg, almost inclined to put his head back between your legs.

“Fine.” He sat on the bed, pulling you to straddle his thigh. You looked at him in confusion as he held your hips down.

“You can ride my thigh and get off that way, or you can quit complaining.”

Your eyes widened, and your face burned in humiliation. You hesitated for a moment before giving into your needs, rolling your hips and dragging your core over his thigh. You squeezed your eyes shut, burying your face in his shoulder as he quietly mocked you and how desperate you were. Your thighs started to shake, and he bounced his leg, making you come with a scream as you bit down lightly on his shoulder.

“Daddy, no,” you complained as his hand snaked down to pinch your clit, sending shocks through you.

“Watch your mouth.” He ordered, grabbing your jaw in his free hand, disapproving of your protests. He overstimulated you, turning your pleasure into torture. You struggled to catch your breath as you writhed on his lap, begging him to let you ease up. You swore at him, and he smacked your already stinging core. You yelped at the pain, letting him have his way, too exhausted to protest further.

You could’ve cried again as he finally eased up, deciding you had adequately paid for your misbehavior. After, he spent the entire evening showering you with attention, showing his soft side and loving on you.

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annoyingstupidmiracle · 3 years

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L.A. Confidential- l.r.h

CONTAINTS SMUT

Word Count: 1876

“My girl might leave me if she hears about this..” That Aussie accent mumbled under his breath as you left marks down his neck in a heated session behind his hotel door. You wouldn’t dare say a word as long as is hands would continue lingering on your skin every other night.

“She won’t,” you told him as he unzipped the back of your dress.

Your eyes blinked as you came out of your daydream from only a few nights prior. You stood in line at the red carpet waiting to take pictures of the band of 5 Seconds of Summer. You had began a job of being a professional photographer for popular bands or singers like them and it paid well. The only downfall was the fact that you had fell head over heels for the front man who also had a girlfriend.

Luke Hemmings was all around perfect, especially in your eyes. The way he laughed at your jokes in order for you to take a good picture of him just made your heart stop. His eyes had always lingered on you whenever you were in close perimeter. His girlfriend, Chloe, was a stunning blonde with tan skin and a perfect white smile. She was drop dead gorgeous, but Luke just couldn’t help himself when it came to you. You weren’t famous, only the people in your pictures were, but to Luke you were something else.

As soon as the boys stepped out into the light, Luke’s blue hues scanned the crowd in front of him in search of your beautiful form. You had always surprised him with the dresses and outfits you pulled off at the red carpet walks, interviews, or photo shoots. Tonight; however, you had decided on tight leather pants and an off the shoulder white blouse which had paired with your skin tone perfectly. The shoes you wore had really thrown him off. They were thick, black stilettos that crossed over your feet and allowed for your hot pink painted nails to be shown off. Luke had always been a fan of how you highlighted the best features of yourself. That’s exactly when he decided on how he was going to fuck you senseless over the-

“Luke! Luke, over here!” The paparazzi screamed over the flashes of cameras from every direction. The only camera he looked at was yours.

“Well, that was a crazy crowd, Jesus.” Calum said while stripping himself of his suit jacket and plopped himself in the couch of your hotel room.

“Yeah, well the afterparty is going to be worse.” Ashton breathed out as he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his dress shirt. You had your laptop out at the desk with the memory card inside it, scrolling through the hundreds of pictures you took for the night in order to send them to management for the band.

They had officially hired you for the full time job for their photographer early last year so, you had made it your full duty to make sure they got the best pictures and publicity you could. Ever since you got the job, the guys instantly made you feel like you were a part of a family. They were your best friends and you couldn’t be any happier.

“Crystal and I are going out for dinner tonight.” Mikey said as he fixed his hair in the mirror. “And no, I’m not skipping.” He adds before his friends could convince him otherwise.

Luke took this as his chance to speak up. “Yeah, I’m going to skip out on the afterparty, too. I haven’t gotten that much sleep lately.” Your eyes dart over to the blonde just to see that he was already staring back at you. A blush made its way to your cheeks as you turned back to your computer.

Calum and Ashton rolled their eyes. “Guess it’s just you and I tonight.” Calum said with a sigh.

“Alright, well we’re gonna head out then.” Ashton announces before ushering Cal out the hotel door. Mikey bids his goodbye as well before he’s out the door as well.

Arms reached around the back of the chair, wrapping themselves around your shoulders as lips pressed against your jaw. “Real smooth.” You joked and closed your laptop before sliding around the chair and standing to your feet. You were then pushed back down, but against the bed this time and a gasp left your lips. Luke was smirking down at your vulnerable form while your elbows were the only thing giving you some sort of angle to look at him better. You stared up at him through thick lashes innocently, waiting for him to do something. His hands ached to touch you through those leather pants, he just didn’t know what he was going to do yet.

Instead of waiting on him, your hand reached out to grab his own and placed it over the leather material between your legs. Luke’s body shuddered with pure excitement as he lowered himself over you against the bed. An elbow plopped down beside your head as a hand stroked your (h/c) hair out of your face. His eyes bored into yours and for a second, your heart beat changed pattern. You had silently hoped that his did the same as you smiled up at him. The smile that got him weak in the knees, which led to his next step of pressing his lips against yours.

You could feel him growing hard against you as he pushed himself farther against you. Luke pulled away from your lips only to leave kisses down your jawline. There was something about the way he was acting tonight that was different than any other night. Instead of dwelling of the thought, you cleared your throat.

“Is something wrong?” You question while running a hand through your hair.

“You know I got somebody so I can’t fuck with just anybody.” Luke mumbles next to your ear which causes your cheeks to heat up. What is he saying? “But sometimes I get lonely.”

You’ve heard those words before, and it only made you angry. It meant that he and his girlfriend had been arguing. She might’ve been pretty, but she was manipulative and often left Luke a drunk mess, but ever since he met you, he hasn’t touched a drop. You were his distraction, and he loved it. He loved how you made him feel important, and needed. Chloe was independent and would rather spend her time with friends at the club than to have a night inside in bed next to Luke with a movie playing, or to go out to dinner.

“Lu, you know you can always come to me.” You soothed. Although it made you guilty that he was cheating on his girlfriend, you were also glad because there had been so many rumors about her cheating that you’d believe it. He kissed your lips in response and lost himself against you. In that moment, you cupped his face in your hand and flipped so that you were now straddling his waist. In a swift movement, he pulled the blouse you wore over your head and to the floor. A grin took over the frown on his face as his hands roamed over your curves.

Your hands reached down and began unbuttoning his dress shirt as well as his pants while he shuddered under your touch. A hand reached behind and groped your rear, pulling you against the hard body beneath you. “Hold up.” Luke says while pushing you up to a standing position. He then curled his fingers on the inside of your leather pants and yanked them down your legs. A blush made its way to your face as you laughed. Luke then lifted you from the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist before putting you on your back. He fit in between your legs perfectly. You reached a hand down in between you and pulled his pants down just enough down his legs as he moves the lace covering you to the side.

Kissing him, you muffled the sounds of your moan as he pulls himself out of his boxers and enters you. He pulled away and placed his forehead against your own, looking in your eyes. “Fuck, Luke.” You breathed out while looking down between your bodies as he pumped in and out of you. His white teeth shined down at you as he grinned. With a swift movement, he wrapped his arms around your torso and flipped so that you were now on top of him.

“Ride me, (y/n).”

You did as told, wincing as his nails dug into your hips. It hurt, but you loved it. He knew how he made you feel while he fucked you senseless. Speaking of, he reminded himself what went through his head at the red carpet. Before he could get too close, he quickly pulled out of you. “Lay over the desk in front of the mirror.” He demanded. This excited you, so you hurried over to the spot he told you to. Grabbing the edge of the table, you tilted your head to the side in order to look at him.

“Like this?” You asked, but he shook his head. He entered you again causing a gasp to escape your lips. Luke reached around your head and wrapped a hand around your throat, forcing you to look in the mirror.

“Like this, I want you to watch me fuck you senseless.”

“O-Okay.” You stuttered, unable to contain yourself as the feel of his hand around your throat caused a different kind of feeling in the pit of your stomach.

He then began to thrust in and out of you at a fast pace as the desk bumped against the wall repeatedly. There was sure to be a noise complaint. And thank god the rest of the band decided to go out for the night. Your climax began to draw closer as he drilled into you.

“Are you close?” He asked, getting close as well. You nodded, unable to form words as he watched you in the mirror. “I wanna hear you scream, baby.”

“Fuck, Lu.” You cursed while adjusting yourself as the desk dug into your skin.

“Louder, I want everyone in the hotel to hear you scream my name.”

“What about-”

“(y/n).” He warned. You were nearly tipped over the edge as his hand tightened around your neck and your stomach flipped.

“Luke!” Your strangled voice screamed nearly at the top of your lungs as the two of you came together, him filling you up. After a few seconds, he let you relax before pulling out of you to get stuff to clean up. He disappeared in the bathroom, and soon came back to help you clean up. Leaning against the desk, you watched as he wiped the liquid from your skin.

“We’re gonna have to go to the pharmacy before they close.” You mumbled embarrassingly. You often had to make a trip there in order to get plan b.

“I know, why do you think I got out clothes for you to change into?” Looking over, you saw a small pile of folded clothes which belonged to him causing your heart to melt.

“Thank you.”

“You know, I can’t leave her right?”

Frowning, you nodded. “I know.”

“L.A Confidential.”

You nodded again and sighed. “L.A. Confidential.”

#lukehemmings #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings smut #5sos smut #5sos #luke 5sos #5sauce

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breathings-of-the-heart · 3 years

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Stuck on You (Levi x Childhood Friend! Reader) Part 2

A/N: Hey guys! It’s been kinda a while but here is part 2~ I have this habit of writing and rewriting my pieces since I’m never fully satisfied by them, but overdoing that is just as bad so I’m going to leave this as is ajflkajada The amount of love my first part recieved was so genuinely heart warming and I cannot express my gratitude enough. I’m nervous to post this because of it, to be honest, because I hope it lives up to the expectations. Thank you to everyone who has shown me support, it means so much! If you guys want a part three, or maybe just a short epilogue, I will consider it so let me know! Also if you would like to be tagged in my future works, comment below or send me a message <3 I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, Season 1 and No Regrets ova spoilers

Word Count: 4k

If you haven’t already, read part one here

As a former member of the Scouts yourself, you knew the ins and outs of the military’s regulations. Because of this, you also knew your request was a strange one, seeing as soldiers weren’t typically allowed visitors, but you hoped your letter appealed to the more personal side of Commander Erwin. Apparently it somehow moved the man, seeing as you had been brought by carriage to the legion's base the following night.

The clopping of horse hooves eventually stopped, and you were currently being escorted into the building by another familiar face, her hand already outstretched to help you out of the vehicle as soon as the door swung open.

“I understand your reservations about this, but you’re brave for coming here. I think he’ll be relieved to see you, (Y/N),” Hange spoke, her fingers hovering over the small of your back as she guided you down one of the many hallways, lantern swinging in her free hand. “I think he could benefit from seeing a familiar face.”

Your eyes were downcast, staring at the floor as rooms upon rooms passed by along your path. You couldn’t speak if you tried, words seemingly stuck in your throat and unable to keep up with your racing thoughts.

Deep breaths, (Y/N).

For better or for worse, there was no need to reply, as Hange came to a halt not a second later. She squeezed your shoulder gently before bringing her knuckles to the wooden door, knocking once, twice.

Your hands were clammy, heart thundering in your ears as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Levi, someone is here to see you,” Hange’s voice rang out firmly.

There was a distinct sound of a chair being pushed back, and footsteps growing nearer. Time slowed down, and you began to second guess every decision up to now. Would Levi even want you to be here? Will he be angry? You felt like bolting away and forgetting about the whole idea, suddenly afraid of his reaction. Afraid that your presence would only make everything worse.

Your eyes were widening as you realized the possibility of leaving was too late to explore, Levi already turning the handle from the other side. So instead, you swallowed your pride, stood up straighter, and pushed away the growing sensation of nausea in your gut.

“Who could possibly be important enough to interrupt my--” 

The second his eyes met yours, Levi halted in all movements. Your gaze was fixed on him as well, every bit of longing settling back in your bones the second it did.

He looked nearly the same as the last time you saw him, clean and kempt as ever, hair styled the way it always was-- the same way he’d keep it when he used to chastise you for running your fingers through it.

And those stoic, gray irises that drew you in your were fierce, yet somehow emptier. At the sight of you, his flooding emotions became too much to properly register, unlocking every moment you’d ever spent with him as they replayed all at once.

“(Y/N)?” He couldn’t hide his disbelief, eyes widening ever so slightly.  

“Hello, Levi.”  

~~~~~~~~~

Never did Levi think he would grow to care for another group of people the same way he had for you, Farlan, and Isabel. But sitting around Petra, Gunther, Eld, and Oruo, he found their excited chatter over the dinner table endearing more than anything. The ever stoic look on his face didn’t change, and he would never openly admit it, but it felt reminiscent to be surrounded by trusted company like this. All of Squad Levi had full faith in one another; it was necessary for the battle field. This created an unspoken bond between all of them that the unreachable Ackerman did not picture building with others again.

Fate worked in funny ways, he supposed.

Sounds of clinking silverware and chatter filled the mess hall, sun setting outside of its many windows and painting the expanse in an orange light. The males eyes drifted towards the entrance of the room expectantly, where a clock rested above the doorway. He took a sip of his tea whilst squinting at it, attempting to get a better read before feeling a slight jab in his side.

“Looking for someone, sir?” Petra inquired, with a hint of deeper emotion in her tone that went right over the male’s head.

He glared at her in annoyance, having almost spilled his drink as the thought of you returned to the forefront of his mind.

It was strange, seeing how capable you had become after spending those months by yourself in the Underground. They made you a bit more calloused than when Levi last saw you, carrying over to your skills as a Scout. You never used to be skilled at riding ODM gear, not even when Levi tried to teach you in your youth. Seeing you slash Titans without blinking an eye was like watching someone completely different.

But you had to learn, since you had no one to protect you.

Your open displays affection had grown fewer and farther between as your time in the Survey Corps dragged on. At first, Levi thought nothing of it. Truthfully, the Captain had hardly noticed, with how busy the both of you were. He wrote it off as stress, or the workload catching up to you. Or, maybe, it was that nagging thought in the back of his conscience he dared not dwell on: he had turned you into this, after being away for so long and then failing to protect your friends.

But as your words replayed in his mind like a broken record, too late he realized this wasn’t the case.

“I see the way you look at her. I see it because you used to look at me that way.”

“Captain?” Petra repeated, leaning forward to study his distant countenance and successfully pulling the man out of his thoughts. “She’s probably just training.”

He rested his hand on top of her head, turning it away from him and sighing.

“Eat, Petra. I don’t need you to be whining about hunger during our patrol tomorrow morning,” he chastised, forcing his eyes away from the doorway.

After that talk, Levi had watched you go, telling himself that you’d return soon enough. Yet could not shake the feeling in his gut that there was something amiss. He pushed away the pit in his stomach. You were safe, you were healthy, and that was all that mattered. Humanity’s Strongest had other things to focus on, after all, and tuned back into his comrades’ conversation. The man blended back in easily, occasionally offering a few of his own comments as the meal dragged on.

Every so often his thoughts would shift back to your conversation earlier that day, and he realized that you were wrong. As close to Petra as he had gotten, there was a stark difference between you and her:

No matter how strong you’d get, and no matter what you thought of him, Levi would always shield you from as much of this world as he could.

But it was better this way. Better if you moved on from him and easier to do if you thought it was because he wanted Petra.

If only he knew your last words to him “I’ll be back for dinner,” had been a lie.

It had been strange for him when you didn’t return. Levi tried not to think about how Kenny had done the same, instead grasping for a reason. For once, he could not read your thought process. The male had no idea why you’d voluntarily leave, after everything. He knew better than to hold onto certainty, but you’d thrown him for a loop. You were always the one to communicate, the problem solver, the one who understood him without much direction. Didn’t you know that you were irreplaceable? He should have come clean: told you that he didn’t see Petra that way, and just didn’t have the heart to admit he didn’t feel good enough for you anymore.

Did he ever even get the chance to say “I love you?”

His regret multiplied tenfold as he began to understand that maybe if he had, you would’ve stayed.

~~~~~~~~

A strange sense of comfort washed over the man as you smiled softly, small hands clasped together in front of you. He blinked, wondering if you were simply a mirage caused by his sleep deprivation. But you remained where you were, after all this time, standing at his door. For once in the man’s life, his mind was drawing a blank.

“I’ll leave you guys to it, then,” Hange stated, excusing herself and soon disappearing out of sight.  

Her statement pulled the both of you back into the present, and you were suddenly self conscious of Levi’s stare. You tucked your hair behind your ears and gestured towards his office, unable to gage his reaction to your presence.

“Would it be alright if I came in?” you asked shyly, astonished he hadn’t slammed the door in your face the second Hange left.  

To your shock, Levi simply nodded, stepping aside to let you through. Your movements were unsure and hesitant, stark in comparison to his: calm and collected as ever.

Just like any space Levi occupied, the area was clean and tidy, a lantern sitting upon his desk the only source of light against the cloudy night sky. It smelled like tea leaves, sandalwood, and disinfectant, a signature scent that made you fill with nostalgia. As the click of the door echoed behind you, the reality of your situation set in, and you turned around to face the man you were here to see.

His gaze had never left you.

“You’re hurt,” was the first thing that left your mouth, concern evident as you studied the bandaging that peaked above his knee length shoes.  

“Long story,” Levi offered curtly, eyeing you up and down from a few feet away. “One I don’t particularly care to tell you.”  

“Of course, that’s fine,” you agreed softly, a weak smile pulling at your lips.

You did your best to mask the hurt, knowing you deserved to feel it. It hurt to be here, the fear that Levi hated you previously keeping you away. Now that you were facing the music, that fear seemed more realistic than ever. Your brain wracked to change the topic before your mind could continue overthinking; desiring instead to cut the unbearable, building tension that never used to exist between you two.

“How are you, Levi?” it was a stupid question, but you no longer knew how to talk to him.

“(Y/N).” 

The way he said your name was sharp and challenging. You quickly cleared your throat and looked away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Of course you’re--” 

“--Why did you leave?” Levi effectively cut you off, orbs narrowing as you dared to come closer.

The question caught you off guard. You thought you’d made it obvious with your last conversation with him those years ago. Surely, he had some idea, although his pained expression said otherwise. His fingers twitched at his sides, a movement you didn’t miss as your eyes flickered back to his in surprise. He had been so composed just a moment ago, that the sudden shift gave you whiplash.

Now his fists were clenching, as he waited in the painful silence, knuckles turning white.

“Why did you leave?” The phrase echoed tauntingly in your ears, over and over again.

You don’t know what came over you. All you knew was that you needed to rid him of the rare, defeated look etched into his countenance. To purge him of this feeling you caused. Whether reaching out would help or hurt, you didn’t know.

But you needed to be near him.

Levi’s eyelids screwed shut as you brushed your thumb across his cheek. The action was so simple, so delicate, so unsure and so familiar all at once, and at the feeling, the Captain’s composure finally came undone.

 He reached up and gripped your wrist, as if you’d fade away if he let go. In previous years, it was always you who craved skinship, yet it seemed as if a weight had been lifted off Levi’s shoulders to have you this close. Your touch still felt like the comforting warmth of a campfire; the type that would make anyone want to stay forever.

“I’m sorry. I thought you’d be better off without me,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to cause you any pain.”

He let out a breath.

“Then why are you here now?” his question was more defeated than hostile, which you hadn’t expected.

If someone asked a few hours ago, your answer would have been much clearer. But now, the logic that brought you here seemed overshadowed by doubt. After all this time, and after everything that had happened between you and Levi, any semblance of a relationship with him seemed unsalvageable. You told yourself this mantra over and over until it stuck. So why were you here?

Levi must’ve thought it audacious, for you to run away like a coward and still think you were relevant to him.

“I owe you so much. Whether I ended up being wrong or right, I’ve always acted with your best interest,” you sighed, thumb brushing over Levi’s dark circles. “Truthfully, I don’t know if I’m any use to you now. I might be the last person you want to seek comfort from, but on the off chance that I still matter to you, I’ll always come back,” you whispered earnestly.

Levi’s grip on your wrist tightened imperceptibly, and you longed to bury your face in the crook of his neck; to feel him wrap his arms around you in his embrace once more. It seemed as if Levi was staring into your soul, his shallow breaths mingling with yours at this close proximity as he opened his eyes to fully drink you in.

“I’m here to tell you that if you need me, I’ll stay.” 

He looked to the side as if brushing aside your touch, hand falling away from the raven-haired man’s face as he did so. It felt like rejection, as if he was brushing all of you away with a simple turn of his head.

Silence.

“You’re a real idiot, (Y/N),” he spoke finally, voice nearly out of place against the stillness.

Moonlight suddenly peaked through the window, showering you in a bath of silver light. Levi recognized this look. You were wearing your heart on your sleeve, offering everything you had to give; eyes wide and honest, shining with a vulnerability that even after a lifetime of knowing you, he had never seen before. The man felt conflicted at the sight, annoyance prickling under his skin as you somehow managed to hold him together and tear him apart all at once with your presence.

Losing his squad twist that knife in his heart, convincing him that he was cursed to be left by everyone and his superhuman talents only doomed him to live a life alone.

But now, here you were, standing within arms length: despite the pain you caused, still the only person he had left. Only you could draw this much emotion out of the typically monotonous man. He couldn’t tell if you were a blessing or a curse, but in the moment, all he knew was that he didn’t want you to leave again. He needed you to stay here, with him, the way it should be. Because you were family.

And true to your word, you did.

“You should really get some sleep, you know,” you stated after a while, closing the door with your foot as you entered with two fresh cups of tea.  

You watched Levi fill out paperwork on the other side of the desk, bringing the cup to his lips in the strange fashion you always teased him for. His gaze flickered up boredly.

“You know I don’t sleep. You go on ahead, though. The bed’s behind that door,” he paused, gesturing somewhere behind him. “I hardly ever use it.”

You shook your head, reaching forward and plucking Levi’s pen from his hand.  

“What you’re drinking is caffeine free. I switched it, so you have no excuse now.” You ignored the indignant scowl growing on the Captain’s face, urging him to listen. “Please, you really should rest. You know you need to.”

It took an entire hour of imploring and convincing for the man to finally give in, him grumbling as you helped take off the boot on his injured foot and ushered him onto the bed. You knew you were the last person with any right to tell the short Captain what to do, but knowing Levi, he was running on an hour or two of sleep while his body was begging for rest. And yes, you were very much hypocritical, draped across the couch in Levi’s office, staring at the ceiling. But none of that mattered to you, as long as he was okay.

You had been lost in introspection, being a room away from your childhood best friend and first love after so long a surreal experience. It felt strange to be back here, but you were too tired to dwell on how strangely out of place you seemed in a place you once called home.

The weight of your abundant emotions from the day finally crashed down, fatigue settling in. You rubbed your eyes, and snuggled closer to the cushions, letting the darkness claim you.

And in the other room, as Levi slipped out of his uniform, shaking his head in exasperation. His last thoughts while he inspected the door as if he could see you through it, was that of course only (Y/N) (L/N) could be more stubborn than he was.

As he slipped under the covers per your command, the ghost of a smile spread across his lips at the thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perhaps it was the constant danger of where you grew up, and the need to always stay on your toes, but for as long as you could remember, you’d been a light sleeper. If someone so much as stared at you for too long, your body would jolt awake, ready to take action within a moment’s notice. There had been many instances where this came in handy in your past; even after years of seldom disruption in your now boring life within the walls, this was a trait you never seemed to grow out of. So it wasn’t hard to notice the heavy breathing and panicked movement from behind Levi’s closed door.

Just like for you, some things never changed-- when it came to old habits, you knew the man like the back of your hand. The reason he rarely ever slept was one you were quite familiar with. One both of you struggled with, and probably always would. Nightmares never seem to stop. You’d gotten through so many of your own rough nights with your friends by your side.

Levi, however, always refused to admit how they affected him. Insisted on going through it by himself.

The subconscious urge to look after one other was most likely one you'd never grow out of, even if Levi had. You didn’t think twice before making your way across the office, swinging your legs across the sofa, awake within seconds. Without missing a beat, you stood up and made your way to Levi’s personal sleeping quarters, knuckles rapping against the frame twice. Levi’s shallow gasps quieted, and when you realized he didn’t plan on opening the door, you steeled your nerves to do it yourself. This was what you were here for, wasn’t it? To offer some comfort?

He did want me to stay.

“Levi?” You called into the darkness gently, feet padding foreword as your eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

His silhouette was upright in the bed, no doubt staring at you menacingly.

“I'm fine, (Y/N). Go back to sleep,” he snapped.

That didn't deter you, for he would never openly admit vulnerability. This was by no means new behavior. Besides, the strong emotion behind the Captain’s voice was an easy tell that betrayed his words. You pressed on, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

“Do you remember the time we were teenageers and you got sick, but couldn’t afford medicine so I took that sketchy job you specifically told me not to?” Your back was to him, yet you could feel Levi peering at you.

“Obviously,” he humoured you with a reply, knowing you weren’t going to leave. “You came home half alive and I felt like the most useless piece of shit in the world.”

You chuckled, fingers fiddling with the white sheets beneath them.

“Yes, which was unfair to yourself but also something I did not realize since you called me pretty much every name in the book,” you smiled, the memory oddly fond despite its events. “You were so angry, but I was also scared out of my mind... which was more important than your anger, I suppose. So you let me lay next to you that night. That was all it took to make me feel safe again.”

There was a long pause, you trying to get your words together in a way that could allow Levi to understand how you felt right now.

“I know what you’re thinking; what you’ve been thinking your whole life. You haven’t failed anyone and that stupid idea should be the furthest thing on your mind. Take it from someone who knows, alright? So many lives have had meaning because of y--”

His hand closed around your wrist, the grip much like it was the day you left him.

This time, he would not let go.

“--Stop, (Y/N). Don’t.”

You hadn’t realized there were tears falling down your cheeks until Levi turned your face to look at him. Trying to look away in your embarrassment, you laughed bitterly. His grip did not budge as he examined you sternly.

“Just be quiet and go to sleep, alright?”

You wiped at your face, determination etched into every fibre of your being.

“Mark my words, Levi, I will make you believe me.”

Levi rolled his eyes but tugged at you once more, opening the duvet in an invitation. When he sensed your uncertainty he simply nodded, arms winding around your waist as you finally crawled in beside him. Both of you knew that there was so much that still needed to be said; so many buried feelings and pain that would only take time to unravel. It felt like a miracle to find yourselves in this situation, pushing aside the thousands of emotions and questions and misunderstandings the two of you had, if only to stay together in this moment.

You didn’t need Levi to know that you still loved him; not while he was coping with another loss. It would be selfish to spring that on, and that was not what you were here for. But you had to tell him:

“I missed you.”

Levi hummed, nose brushing against yours in the close proximity.

“You better not be gone when I wake up,” he chided in response, orbs fluttering shut.

Your fingers threaded through his onyx black locks, brushing through the knots soothingly. Knowing you’d help this man heal no matter how long it took, you took comfort in the realization that he’d finally let you do just that.

“I’ll be right here. You’re not alone, Levi. I promise you never will be.”

He pulled you closer, thankful that there was at least one source of warmth left in his life that he could hold onto-- especially after coming to terms with and almost having been certain he’d never experience this feeling of contentment, again. But here you were to prove him wrong, a living slice of home in his arms.

It may have been wishful thinking, but you could have sworn you felt Levi’s breath fan across your hairline, a soft voice whispering “Thank you, (Y/N).” before you felt yourself slip away into slumber once more.

taglist: @asterroidd @chucky-26o1 @silversxble @belovedwindermere @christina-mj-stan @leviackerrman @cravrat @thekohakuriver1 @batakprincess @sunisenpai

#snk #AoT #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #levi #lance corporal levi #levi ackerman #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #snk levi #snk fic #aot fic #levi x reader #attack on titan imagines

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ppersonna · 4 years

Text

make me - myg | m

strawberries on a summer evenin'. baby, you're the end of June. i want your belly and that summer feelin', getting washed away in you - watermelon sugar, harry styles

↳ summary- an ordinary sleepover with your best friend turns into anything but ordinary, thanks to your ridiculously loud neighbors above you.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+ / nc17

↳ word count- 4.4k

↳ pairing- yoongi x reader

↳ genre- pwp lol, smut, fluff, somehow the dirtiest fluff i have ever written bc there’s some depraved shit in here

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (dont...pls), dirty talk, rough sex, degrading talk, dom/sub undertones, bratty backtalk

↳ a/n- yooooo dawg this... was fun. i hope you enjoy!! ive been in my yoongi feels lately uwu. feel free to comment, message, dm, whatever u want babes. i love you!

Yoongi thinks if he has to hear your upstairs neighbors fuck for another minute longer he might actually go crazy.

It’s been hours now. The girl is screaming like a feral cat and the man is doing a terrible impression of a porn star, trying his best to talk dirty but really just calling the howling banshee awful names.

If only his dick would be as annoyed as his brain.

He knows you’re awake next to him too. The steady rise and fall of your breathing changed when the bad porn above you began—now it’s faint and too quick to indicate anything but your wakefulness.

“Ohhhhh oppa!” The girl above you screams.

It’s finally what breaks down the silence in your bedroom. At her wanton sound, you and Yoongi are unable to stop yourselves from bursting into laughter.

Yoongi’s stomach hurts from laughing so hard. Tears form at the corners of his eyes as you make the bed rumble from the force of your combined laughter.

“God, do they think that sounds hot?” You finally ask after settling down to mere giggles.

Yoongi shrugs and wipes away his tears. “Apparently. He must like the way she sounds like a dying cat.”

His comment sends you into a spiral of laughter again, and you’re clinging to your chest as it heaves with exertion.

Yoongi is your best friend for a reason. No one makes you laugh as hard as he does. No one understands you the way he seems to be able to—it’s almost intuitive the way he can understand your feelings.

You live for your weekly sleepovers. You drink wine, watch terrible horror films, gossip about your other friend’s love lives, and fall asleep in your bed together. It’s never been anything but blissful.

Until recently…

When your heart decided it would beat too fast around him. When your brain decided to spin and weave stories of romance with your best friend.

Now, you can’t hardly think about anything else around the dirty blonde haired boy. It’s overwhelming to all of your senses when you see him, feel him near you. You want to kiss him, to love him, to tear his clothing off.

Which makes lying in your full size bed while the neighbors above you fuck and attempt to act out their wildest fantasies—badly—so much harder than usual.

“God,” Yoongi sighs and tugs the blanket up to his chin. “Does she even like it or do you think she’s faking it?”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust. “Ugh, I know I wouldn’t be into it.”

“You don’t like dirty talk?” He teases with a poke to your stomach. It makes an eruption of nerves go off in your chest.

“Oh, no I do. But that’s not dirty talk,” you shrug. “He’s just being mean. There’s no sensuality underneath it.”

He hums and lays back down to stare at the ceiling.

“Give me an example,” he asks of you. It makes your cheeks flush red and you’re thankful for the darkness in your room to provide you cover.

“Um, well,” you cough awkwardly. “He’s saying shit like ‘you fuck anything don’t you?’ which, maybe she’s into degradation, but I’m not. Not that extreme.” Your explanation sounds lame, but you continue anyway. “I prefer to hear things like ‘this slutty little pussy belongs to me’. Possessive and hot at the same time without being too...uhh...hurtful.”

Yoongi feels his cock rise with piquing interest. There’s a nagging guilt about thinking of his best friend this way, and a tinge of jealousy thinking someone who isn’t him has said that to you.

He feels his throat dry up, and you wring your hands nervously on the blanket. The moaning above you doesn’t stop, and you can hear the telltale sound of flesh slapping on flesh, indicating they’ve commenced into penetration and it makes your body throb with annoyance, and with want.

There’s moments when a louder slap echoes through the room—it’s clear the man is slapping her somewhere—and she whines desperately. Your core starts building that familiar heat, a slickness gathering you can’t stop. You press your thighs together tight and squirm as subtly as you can. You pray Yoongi doesn’t notice.

Yoongi, however, does notice. He breathes a sigh of relief internally knowing he’s not the only being affected by the commotion above. But he doesn’t understand the meaning behind it. For all he knows, you’re just turned on because—well, because it’s sex and it’s loud and who wouldn’t be a little turned on? You’re likely not at all aroused by him, or the thought of him. Right?

Another slap echoes through the room and you can tell by the way the girl gasps that her partner slapped her in the face.

“Damn,” you shiver. Yoongi turns to peek at you through the darkness.

“You into that?” He asks curiously. “Face slapping?”

It’s hard to swallow for a moment—it feels like you’re trying to down a boulder.

“Uh, yeah,” you whisper. “Yeah, I like pain.”

Yoongi doesn’t reply and it makes you fear you’ve overstepped the line. You’ve gone too far off the ‘best friend’ track and the whole train is about to de-rail.

You’re opening your mouth to apologize for taking it too far when Yoongi finally speaks.

“Fuck it,” he sighs. “You want to fuck louder and establish dominance?”

The world stops turning. You’re sure that gravity doesn’t exist anymore and the theory of relativity has been proven wrong.

Did Min mother fucking Yoongi, your best friend of over twenty years, just offer to have sex with you to...establish dominance over the neighbors above you attempting to make a cheap porn?

He’s looking at you normally, but there’s a glimmer in his eye that says more. It says he wants you. Your stomach twists in on itself. There’s no way, there is no actual plausible way that the man beside you feels the same way about you as you do.

“You want to have sex with me?”

Yoongi’s cheeks turn pink and he looks away for a minute.

“I also want to date you,” he murmurs.

If you thought the world ended before, you’re sure this is the fiery explosion that brings a new earth into life with a bang.

The noises from upstairs interrupt the romantic moment with a scream, a guttural howl from the man, and then muffled whispers and sighs.

“What do you say we keep them up all night too?” His mouth turns to a smirk as he awaits your reply.

“Yeah,” you nod as you throw the blankets off you. “Fuck those guys, lets show them what real kinky sex looks like.”

Yoongi’s eyes turn feral as he works his eyesight down your body. Your normal sleepwear outfit of a tank top and shorts looks like lingerie to him now and he’s salivating at the way he can see the curve of your breasts, and the press of your hard nipples against the fabric.

You’re throwing yourself onto Yoongi’s body in an instant, pinning him down to the bed and pressing your lips to his. You waste no time in waiting for him now that you know—now that you’ve heard with your two ears that Min Yoongi not only wants to fuck you, but date you as well. No use wasting any more time—the time for action is now.

The kiss is hot and Yoongi’s hands falter for a moment in surprise before he’s coming to his senses and tugging at your tank top quickly to pull it off your body. His hands feel hot on the bare skin of your back, rubbing at your spine and up to your shoulders. It makes you shiver, and you slide your tongue into his mouth to explore the heat inside.

His hands navigate forward to cup your breasts, fingers toying with your nipples—pinching and pulling and rolling between the pads of his fingers. It has you keening into his touch and grinding down on his basketball-shorts-covered cock.

Yoongi pulls away from you and pulls at a nipple harshly, which makes you gasp out loud.

“It’s real cute how you think you’re in charge right now,” he points out. “Real fucking cute. It’s gonna make me almost feel bad for punishing you.”

You’re sure your soul is going to leave your body at hearing your best friend’s sexy baritone voice verbalize your dirtiest fantasies. If this is how you react now…, may God have mercy on your poor little pussy.

Yoongi thinks he’s possibly never been harder than he is right now. His best friend, best girl, is sitting atop his boner and he’s twisting your pretty nipples so hard they’ll surely turn purple soon. You sound so sweet when you whine, and you’re starting to whine louder as he continues the pressure on your tits.

“You thought you could take control, didn’t you?” He asks, slipping further and further into the dominant act. He loves this, thrives off it. He didn’t think you’d ever be into it—none of the girls he’s dated before have—and he’s thrilled he doesn’t have to hide this depraved part of himself.

You nod and bite your lip, wincing as he tugs once more on a nipple before letting go.

“Cute,” he sighs. “But wrong.”

In an instant, he flips you two over and he feels his heart and cock swell at the sight of your sweet eyes widening at the quick change.

“This feels better, don’t you think?” He asks. You nod and he shakes his head. “Answer me, baby doll. You’re already about to get punished. You wouldn’t want to make me not let you cum, would you?”

The fear in your eyes increases and you clear your throat to talk.

“No sir, I don’t want that.”

Yoongi nearly moans. Hearing you call him sir, being underneath him—it’s his wet dreams come to life.

“Then tell me,” he instructs. “Tell me you need me in charge.”

You’re dying to be a brat, really wanting to pull Yoongi completely out of his shell, show him the full extent of what he can do to you. Plus, you really wanna give your neighbors a show—a taste of their own medicine, don’t you?

“What if I don’t want to?” You tease.

Yoongi’s grin turns wider and his eyes sparkle with knowing. He’s a through and through brat-tamer, and by the end of the night you’ll be crying for forgiveness.

“Little tease,” he growls as he leans down to latch his mouth on your abused nipple.

You gasp out loud, and it turns into desperate mewling as his teeth nibble and pull. You’ll be bruised up for days, surely. He sucks hard, pulls on it roughly and bites with meaning. You just know your panties are completely soaked.

“Talking back to me, huh? You think that’s going to get you where you want to go tonight, little girl?”

He turns his attention to your other nipple, eyes peering into yours as you struggle to answer with the sizzle of pain in your breast.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You send back with a shake of your hips under him.

The growl he delivers around your nipple and the quick bite makes you yelp.

“I think I should shut that loud mouth of yours up.”

You smile in response and his fingers tug down your shorts. You lift your hips and allow him to pull the clothing off and you’re left in your slicked up panties.

“Oh yeah?” You retort. “You gonna shut me up with that fat cock?”

Yoongi visibly shivers. His spine tingles deliciously for minutes after the hair on his neck settles. He’s dreamed of you like this, under him and begging to be put in your place. And now, here you are. And he can’t wait to make it a reality. He’s even forgotten about the loud neighbors. It’s now just all about you.

“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Dirty little slut so horny to get her mouth on my cock.”

Yoongi allows a finger to trail down your clothed slit, and he outwardly groans at how wet you are. You’re unable to hold back your whimpers of need—he’s so close to where you need him most and where you’ve dreamed of having him.

“You talk a big game for someone who’s drenched before I’ve even done anything,” Yoongi says with a smirk.

Your legs tremble as he pulls your panties to the side to expose your drenched folds. He dips a finger in and touches your clit. You moan in unison—he’s captivated by the heat and slick, you’re feeling air escape your lungs with every swirl of his finger.

“Y-Yoongi,” you whine. He tsks and pulls his finger out.

“That’s not my name right now.” His hands start to slide your panties down and your stomach leaps with excitement.

“Sir, please.”

“Now you want to be my good girl?” He asks with a chuckle. “Where’s my mouthy little brat who wants my cock to shut her up?”

He leans back on his heels and watches you eye him. You’re nearly bursting at the seams. You’re naked while he remains completely clothed and while you’d normally feel exposed and vulnerable, all you feel is white hot heat. You’re burning for Yoongi, for him to do what you’ve dreamt he could do.

“Why don’t you show me what that sweet mouth can do?”

He maneuvers to stand at the side of the bed, dick straining against the mesh of his shorts. He waits for you to sit up, which you wordlessly obey. His cock is now eye level with you, and your mouth feels dry. You’ve dreamt about this dick, about what it looks like and how it would feel in your hand, inside you. The fact that you’re here now, about to find out all your secret fantasies is heady.

Your hand rubs at the straining material, over the thickness of his cock. He feels big, and you give it a squeeze which makes him hiss.

“Still being a tease,” he sighs with faux disappointment. “You’re in a precarious position to be such a little cocktease. Might need to fuck that right out of you.”

It makes you whimper—his direct threats sounding like smooth promises going straight to your core.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Yoongi growls and grabs a bit of your hair, tugging your head back to look at him in the eyes.

“I think you should shut this fucking mouth up.” His voice is dark, and his eyes glow with lust.

A grin pulls over your face as you gaze sweetly up at him—his hand still gripped tight in your hair.

“Make me.”

Yoongi is silent for a moment as he stares at you in wonder—his beautiful girl, so rebellious and yet so willing to comply.

“I fucking love you, you little fucking slut.”

Yoongi forces his shorts down and grips your chin, holding it hard in his hand.

“Now choke on my fucking cock.”

You open your mouth complacently and he wastes no time in shoving his entire length down your throat mercilessly.

It’s hot. It feels like fucking heaven. Your lips wrap around him and suction and he can feel your gag reflex straining against his tip at the back of your throat. Yoongi thinks his entire spine is tingling with desire for you and the way you take his cock so well has his toes curling.

You didn’t even get to have a good look at Yoongi’s cock before it was shoved into your throat, but now that it’s there you don’t even need to see it to knows he is fucking thick and long. It stretches your mouth and you know your pussy will be taken to its limit when he finally buries himself inside you where he rightfully belongs.

“Can’t talk back now, can you?” He teases as he begins to fuck your throat. “Mmmm shit—, you suck my cock so fucking good.”

His words are nothing but encouragement for you and you fight back the growing discomfort in your throat and allow him to use it as he pleases. Tears form in your eyes and slip down your face at the exertion and you soon feel his balls slap at your chin. You’ve only fantasized of being used like this by Yoongi, and now it’s actually fucking happening. You’ll be damned if you don’t give him the suck of a lifetime.

Yoongi thinks he’s staring into heaven as he fucks your tight mouth and watches as your eyes fill with tears. They leak out and he knows you’re loving this just as much as he is by the palpable enthusiasm you accept his cock with.

“Look at my little brat,” he coos mockingly. “Not so big and brave now, are you? Not with daddy’s cock wrecking your hot mouth.”

He picks up the pace and the sounds turn disgustingly lewd. It’s a wet, slurping sound as Yoongi forces his cock in and out of your drooling mouth. Saliva drips onto the bed below you as you take him all, never given a chance to breathe or swallow. Yoongi takes and you selflessly give. You’d allow the man to split you in half—and you’re actively hoping he does just that tonight.

Suddenly, Yoongi is pulling out of your mouth and leaving you panting and keening for more. He grips his cock with a fist. He strokes himself roughly and looks down at you.

“Gonna cum, baby girl. Fucking beg for it.”

Your hands grip at his thighs and you’re breathing hard to catch up on the oxygen you were denied. But it doesn’t stop you from doing exactly as he orders.

“Please, daddy. Please cum on my face. Let me taste your cum, I want to know what you taste like. Cum on me. Mark me, daddy.”

Yoongi whines and increases the speed of his pumps. His mouth falls open as he watches you pout so sweetly and wait so eagerly for his seed on your face. He wants to see your entire body covered in his cum and he plans on ensuring that happens sooner rather than later.

“My eager little bitch. Wants her daddy to mark his territory.”

You nod, tongue sticking out and wagging like a dog for his cum.

“Please, daddy. Make me messy.”

It seems to be the secret password to Yoongi’s climax. Your desperation, your eager position, the way you beg so sweetly. It sends him right over the edge and he cries out as his cock pulses white stripes over your pretty face.

He wishes he could take a picture of the way his cum covers your face. He’d make it his background photo so he could see it every day, show everyone around him the gorgeous little whore he gets to cum on every night.

“Shit, babygirl,” he groans as he attempts to catch his breath. “Look at you.”

You smile as your tongue retreats into your mouth and you savor the drops that landed on your tongue. Your eyes close in bliss as you enjoy the flavor, noting it tastes salty and sweet and you can’t wait to reacquaint yourself with the taste over and over again.

“Lay back,” he orders as he pushes his shorts all the way off.

In his haste to fuck your throat, he only pushed them halfway. He slips out of them and pulls his shirt off before he joins you on the bed.

“Let me drink this cunt.”

You whimper in agreement as you press your back in to the pillows and spread open your legs.

“Please, daddy.”

He grins as he lowers himself to lie between your legs. He blows on it, cool air pushing over your folds chilling you.

“Fuck,” he sighs. “Greedy little cunt wants it all, hm?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“So compliant for me now,” he whispers as he kisses your thighs. “I like it when you behave.”

He kisses in further, and soon he’s using his fingers to spread apart the folds and pressing the flat of his tongue to your clit and laving it over the aching nub.

“Holy shit,” he groans as he comes up and sucks his tongue back into his mouth. “Sweetest little pussy.”

You can’t reply, the capability to speak has left you now. He buries his face back into your cunt and gets to work. His tongue starts flicking against the bundle of nerves and then dips down to fuck into your channel. He works his tongue around you and your back arches off the bed and your heels dig into the mattress. You seek purchase in his hair with your hands, digits gripping at the blonde locks between your thighs.

Yoongi groans and moans into your cunt, and soon he slips two fingers in to fuck you roughly.

He pulls his lips away and licks his tongue over them to collect the slick that lingers. His fingers maintain a quick pace and he drinks in the sight of you gasping at the stretch.

“Yeah, look at you take my fucking fingers. Such a wanton little whore for me.”

He slides another finger in to join, then another, and it makes your cries echo loudly around the room. He suddenly remembers the neighbors above you and smirks. He pulls his hands from you, making you keen with desire and desperately beg for more.

“Daddy! Please, I need..” you gasp. “Need you!”

He pulls himself up to join your hips together and rolls his them against each other. His cock rubs against your soaked pussy and he bites his lip at the feel of it getting slicked up.

“I want you to be nice and loud for me, baby girl,” he demands sweetly in your ear as he licks the shell. He notes your shiver and smirks, before kissing your ear lightly. “Tell those mother fuckers upstairs who’s going to take you to Hong Kong.”

“Yes, daddy,” you agree.

It only takes the consent to leave your lips for Yoongi to spear his cock into you. He’s not slow or gentle, he pushes it into the hilt immediately.

Yoongi meant to start a pace, to begin fucking into you mercilessly, but he’s frozen inside your tight heat. You feel so good, so fucking tight and warm and wet for him. It’s better than heaven, and surely better than any pussy he’s been inside before. Maybe it’s because it’s you, and no one else.

“Fuck!” He gasps. “Holy shit I could cum right now.”

You whine and move your hips desperately.

“Fuck me daddy! Fuck me hard, please! Use me like your little cock sleeve.”

Yoongi bites his lip and feels his cock pulse.

“Shit, you’ve got a dirty fucking mouth,” he grits. “Let’s see if you’ve got a dirty little pussy too.”

He sets a pace, desperately wills his cock not to cum yet. He wants to fuck you senseless, until your eyes roll back in your head. He’s gonna make sure you get off on his cock before he comes close to his end.

Yoongi grips your chin again, like he did at the beginning as he fucks into you roughly.

“Look at you take my fucking cock so deep,” he bites out. “Your cunt is so fucking desperate for my fat cock, isn’t it? You need me to fuck some discipline into you.”

You’re nearly screaming now at the force of his thrusts. He’s pushing all the way into you with each push and his balls smack against your ass deliciously. You’re babbling, words unable to make sense as he fucks all the brain cells out of you.

“Dumb little cock slut,” he whispers as he leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth and bite at it before releasing it “Little brat turns into a perfect little fuck hole for me, so fucking good for me.”

“Yes, y-y-yes baby! S-so close!”

Yoongi’s had you near the verge since his oral, and now with his punishing pace and power in his driving hips, you’re hovering over the edge.

His hand drops down to rub at your clit, a circular motion that has you gasping and screaming his name.

“That’s fucking right,” he breathes. “Tell them, baby. Tell them who’s got the best fucking cock. Tell them who fills this pussy up so well.”

You’re eager to comply.

“You, daddy! Fuck! You feel so fucking thick in me. I need your cum, please, please. Cum on me.”

Yoongi feels his balls tighten impossibly--he knows he’s seconds away from an explosive orgasm.

“Cum on my cock, baby girl. Let me feel you cream my fucking cock. Wanna see you all over this fat dick.”

His free hand tugs at a nipple and pulls it punishingly, tugging it so far it pulls the skin around it. Your screams light up the room, echoing and bouncing off the walls and surely traveling up to your neighbors bedroom.

“Yoongi! Fuck! I’m cumming!” You warn, a millisecond before your world crashes around you.

Your cunt squeezes his cock so tightly that it causes his hips to stutter in their pace. It grips him tight, angry like a squeezed fist and Yoongi feels the air get sucked out of his lungs as his climax follows directly after yours. He didn’t even have a chance to pull out--he’s emptying his load into your womb and whining at the feeling of your pulsating walls milking every single drop greedily.

It’s several minutes later that you’re both caught up to normal breathing and resting beside each other on the bed. The room is silent, save for little pants and breaths, and Yoongi reaches over to lace his fingers into yours and hold your hand tightly.

“You wanna date me?” He asks sweetly, as if his cum isn’t dripping out of your cunt as he speaks.

It makes you laugh. It’s so classically Yoongi that you can’t help but to laugh.

“Yes, daddy, I want to date you. I want to date you every single day.”

He pulls you into his embrace and kisses at your forehead.

“Maybe we should send your neighbors some flowers for getting us together,” he teases.

As if on cue, the all too familiar sound of skin slapping against skin and screeching moans comes from upstairs and plays through your apartment like an unwanted jukebox.

“God damn it, our plan backfired.” he grumbles. “I think we turned them on.”

You press your sticky, sweaty body against him and kiss at his lips. Your hand sneaks down to his cock and grips it again, begging it to come back to life.

“Shall we try again, then?”

#bts smut #bts fic #bts yoongi #bts suga #yoongi #yoongi smut #bangtanarmynet #heartsforbts #minthlynet #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #bangtan smut

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

through the looking glass

“Please don’t kill me!” you begged from the floor, your hands raised, trying to get this psycho to leave you alone. “I-I-I don’t think I taste that good? I’ve tried my blood before, and it’s disgusting, true fact! Mosquitos don’t even like me that much!” “I don’t eat humans, I—” the psycho samurai man tried to speak, but you were far from done pleading for your life.

— Or in which you cross paths with Shinazugawa Sanemi and nothing is ever the same again.

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pairing: shinazugawa sanemi x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, fluff, cursing, an instance of demon slaying, mirror sex, vaginal fingering, blowjob, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, cursing, praise kink, this is my first time writing for this fandom oh no

word count: 8,420

a/n: I fell asleep while editing this, good reminder to maybe not lay in a comfy blanket when trying to get shit out on time????? i love sanemi sm tho, please enjoy!

kinktober day 15 main kink: mirror sex | kinktober masterlist

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The sky was always prettier at night.

It wasn’t anything against the sky during the day! As a matter of fact, you also loved the light blue sky just at noon. You loved it wholly! You loved the way the sweet smell of crops of the earthy dewy scent traveled in the morning, and you loved how every creature in existence seemed to hum with life. The morning sky and earth were always busy.

But, you always found the deep dark blue-purple, nearly black night sky to be ethereal.

If you closed your eyes and listened closely, the nighttime, silent with white noise hanging through every quiet move of wind, felt like another world. Out near the countryside, not quite the city and not quite the farmlands, you were able to live a life where you felt safe, felt normal. You and your friends were always screaming and chasing each other through the streets following the setting sun. Your curfew hours pushed back for the night, letting you relax.

You loved to sit just at the edge of the farmed roads, right where the light from the town just disappeared into blackness. You would sit there, eyes bright, fingers pointed at the sky as you took in the irreplicable night sky. At sixteen years, you had decided to venture out on your own; your friends said that they wouldn’t be able to join you because of their own busy schedule and insisted that you don’t go on account of the few vanishing people the past few nights.

But, you were never one to pay mind to others’ opinions; your own mind set on seeing the supposed asteroid shower that night in tandem with the full blue moon was to be a sight you couldn’t miss. So, you laughed, scratching the back of your neck as you sigh.

“Fine, I won’t go,” you lied to them, and they smiled in gratefulness.

But, like the liar that you are, you found yourself rushing out of your home, your fingers clutching at your kimono as you run. The sun had already set, and if you were to make sure that you would make the sighting, you were going to need to get there now.

Eventually, you made it to that pathed dirt road, your eyes scanning the darkened sky with intense focus as you began to search for the asteroid shower you were promised. With the bright, beautiful moon in the sky, your feet stamping onto the road with your impatience and excitement, you listened to the whistling wind and chirping bugs as you waited.

Nothing abnormal or out of the ordinary.

It was tranquil, quiet, calm.

And finally, when the backdrop of the night sky served as the background to the beautiful shower of asteroids, a single sound that you’ve never heard before echoed from before you and immediately made your stomach sicken.

Someone was eating in the fields right before you, the sound of a person, maybe an animal, eating something as if it was starving. Slowly, the air filled with fickle laughter, a noise that had your heart racing as you stood up. Your attention no longer focused on the beautiful night sky, but instead, two pairs of yellow and red eyes staring at you.

“Oh? Would you look at that! Two humans already, and it's only three hours into the night!” a voice cackled, and even with the shroud of darkness brought by the hours of the night, you recognized what the not humans were eating.

It was a person.

Unable to scream due to fear, the horror burned through your veins as you tried to scramble to your feet and run away, only to find that you couldn’t even move. You began to cry instead. Fat tears welling down your cheeks as they stalked toward you at a speed you couldn’t start to believe was human or animal, and you curled into yourself, eyes unable to gaze up at the sky one last time.

“So this is where you shithead demons have been fucking hiding?!” a voice practically roared behind you, and it was then you shrieked when a burst of wind exploded over you and a man dressed in a weird black uniform with a white haori with the kanji for ‘kill’ printed on it.

What the fuck was fucking going on?!

You pinched your skin, wondering if, by chance, the gods had cursed you at the very moment and forced you to hallucinate some strange reality.

“T-That’s a Hashira,” one of the not-human humans gasped, arm tugging at his friend. “We don’t stand a chance!”

What the fuck was a Hashira?!

“Like hell, we don’t!” the other snarled in defensive anger. You managed to push yourself onto your forearms, your knees still too weak to carry your standing weight. “Look at all his scars, gotta be hanging by a damn thread. He’s not even looking at us!”

You were taken back by that statement. Why wasn’t the third lunatic looking at them?! You snapped your attention from the non-human humans to look at the white-haired man who was staring at you. Your jaw dropped in your shock and slight embarrassment at the way his scarred face took you off-guard for a moment. Why was he looking at you and not the non-human humans?!

And in horror, you watched the psycho scarred man in front of you unsheathed a katana.

A katana.

The ringing of metal loud in your ear as you scrambled to your feet, this man was genuinely insane. Who still carried such weapons in this time period?! The samurai were no longer around, and he was dressed in something that looked weaker than your own kimono!

“Ni no kata: Sousou-Shina to Kaze,” the psycho samurai man spat, and if you hadn’t already believed you weren’t hallucinating already, you definitely did now. Jagged, solid apparitions of claw marks appeared from the air as the psycho man shot forward, the glinting menace of his katana tearing through the necks of both the non-human humans with such horrifying ease. You screamed.

The terrified scream didn’t stop afterward, only seems to increase in horror when you watched the bodies crumble into smoke and ash, their voices still muttering last words, bitter and abhorrently angry at being murdered. The psycho samurai had beheaded these non-human humans at such power and strength he had destroyed their living bodies!

Was this because you hadn’t thanked your aunties for adding that one extra meat bun when you noticed after going home?! No, it had to have been for breaking that perverted boy's nose the other day, and this was the curse he placed on you. Physical violence was never the answer; you vehemently prayed to your gods as you begged for forgiveness. Please spare your pathetic life.

Your jaw dropped as you watched the psycho samurai man, with what seemed like proficient knowledge and experience, flick his blade. Blood splattered off the blade, onto the floor, disintegrating too. And well, fuck the gods.

Spinning on your heel, you ran as fast as you possibly could, your chest heaving and nerves entirely shot because if you were hallucinating this badly, you needed to get home. Maybe that candy you ate earlier today from the snot-nosed brat was some weird drug. City kids could never be trusted.

“Are you okay?” a voice gruffed by your ear, and you shrieked, seeing the psycho man seemingly appear beside you. His footsteps were silent as he so obviously ran to catch up to you, and through your frightening horror, you found yourself tripping and falling onto your ass. Staring up at the wholly scarred man in front of you.

You had initially thought it was just his face that was scarred, but no, it was obviously more. There were jagged, ugly cuts lining his pectorals, abdomen, and if you weren’t making it up, you noticed some on his arms. Every piece of exposed flesh was lined with intense scars.

“I don’t eat humans, I—” the psycho samurai man tried to speak, but you were far from done pleading for your life.

“My mom says I have a thick neck! Called me an ox or something! I’m sure you don’t want to cleave off my head like you did the others?! Oh my god, am I gonna die?!” you squeaked, your fingers digging crescent shaped wounds into your arms as you began to cry. “I don’t wanna die!” you wailed, and then just the slightest bit pathetically: “I just wanted to see the asteroid shower.”

The psycho man seemed to grow irritated, his lips pulling back into a small snarl before he rolled his eyes. With tears in your eyes, you watched as the man threw his katana to the side, much too far away from him to use on you, and in the dim lights of the town behind you, you watched the shadows grow on his face as he sat down before you.

Not close enough to make you panic, but not far enough you were squinting to see him.

“My name is Shinazugawa Sanemi,” the psycho samurai man explained, and your eyes narrowed.

“That’s not a god or demon I’m aware of,” you muttered under your breath, but it seemed he heard it by the sour glare he gave you. You stilled under his weighted ton glare, your face warming as you averted your gaze.

“I’m not a god,” he spoke firmly, his arms folding underneath his chest. There was the chance he was a demon, you couldn’t help but think. “Nor am I demon.” You wilted.

“Rabid mountain boy?” you guessed, your nerves and adrenaline are still pounding way too heavy for you to filter your words.

He huffed, “No.”

“Well then—”

“Just let me explain,” he stressed, an eyebrow raised at you, and you stilled. It took a bit, but eventually, you nodded. “My name is Shinazugawa Sanemi, and I am a part of an organization called the Kisatsutai.”

Kisatsutai, the Demon Slayer Corps.

It rang an old bell in your memories, something distant, aged. Maybe a tall tale your grandparents had told you.

“It’s exactly as you think it to be,” he spoke, and you found your gaze rising to meet his. You realized even with the dull, yellowing light of the faraway lanterns, his eyes were a clouded purple. “Those two shitheads that tried to attack you are — were — demons. Yes, demons still exist,” he followed immediately as if knowing what stupid question you were going to ask next. Your mouth closed, and a chill ran down your spine knowing that non-human demon creatures that ate humans actually existed in this world. How had you been so unaware? “I’m a Hashira though, the wind Hashira to be exact. You’re living in my section of the territory I’m assigned to keep safe, so don’t worry. Demons don’t come out during the day; the sun kills them, so keep indoors at night, and you won’t have any issues.”

You remained silent, your mind twisting and turning as you tried to digest his words that seemed to rip apart your life. Sure, there was always a chance of being murdered in life; you weren’t that naive of an idiot to think so. But you never would have guessed that the potential murder you would have was a demon. It just seemed childish.

“T-That’s why they disintegrated?” you eventually babbled, your mind and consciousness entirely overloaded. “Are you some sun blooded person? How did you kill them?”

Sanemi stared at you but grunted. He rose to his feet and offered you a hand, “Top secret, can’t tell you.”

That wasn’t a good enough answer, and your mouth opened, ready to retaliate.

“I’m not trying to be a jerk,” Sanemi spoke, his hand tensing yet again in apparent effort to get you to grab it. “I’ll explain to you the bullshits of the reality of life later, but fortunately, this wasn’t the only area with demons nearby. So, unless you want me leaving you out here alone.”

A frown curled on your face, but with an unspoken level of trust, you grabbed his hand. You tried not to show how shocked and just awed you were at the calloused, entirely strong palms he had. You had no doubt in mind that he was a master swordsman, that title of Hashira seemed to be a big thing too, and the strength and power and callousness of his palm proved it.

“I’ll walk you home, pipsqueak; let’s get a move on it.”

Nodding your head quickly, you tore your hand from his and walked.

The walk was silent, and you could feel his presence lingering behind you like a hot coal in your pocket. You looked behind to see if he was still there several times, and each time he was staring straight ahead, eyes focused on something far away.

“You’ll be back tomorrow, Shinazugawa-san?” you ask as you made your way to the entrance of your home. You weren’t moving to go in, trying to figure out what he meant by explaining it all later.

“Tomorrow evening before I work,” Sanemi confirms, arms folding again.

You nod, “How old are you, Shinazugawa-san?”

He narrows his eyes but eventually rolls them, “Eighteen.”

Only two years older than you were, yet his hands felt like those of a war-veteran elder. It almost seemed like you and he grew up in entirely different worlds. You nod some more, absorbing his words and skills with better clarity as you finally begin to retreat past the gates. “Well, thank you for saving my life, Shinazugawa-san. I’ll leave—”

“You can watch it tomorrow night,” he said, face void of emotions.

You blink, “What?”

Sanemi rolls his eyes, looking entirely unimpressed. “The asteroid shower? The one you were watching or wanted to watch? Tomorrow night, another one will be happening.”

“O-Oh,” you felt warm, a smile spreading across your face as you nodded. “Thank you for letting me know!”

He nods too, a sharp inhale whistling through the air before his shoulders relax, the tension leaving his body altogether. “Well, until tomorrow evening.”

“Goodnight, Shinazugawa-san,” you politely bow. “Stay safe tonight.”

“...you too.”

And when you pull up from the bow, he’s gone.

The next evening, Sanemi shows up again. The sun is still in the sky, barely on its decline, and the summer day's warmth is slowly cooling down. As promised, Sanemi answers all of your questions, or well, tries to answer it. Some questions you have, he roughly snarks that those are stupid questions that shouldn’t ever be asked again (i.e., you asking if he was a child of the sun and that's why the demons had died, you asking if he had grown up in the woods and that’s why he was so scarred, you asking if it was only him in this supposed corps). He makes it pretty clear and unmistakable right away that all demons are evil. That he has the power to kill most demons as he is now and is continuing to train himself daily to ensure that he will one day help eradicate the strongest demon. That had turned into a slight argument on how you seriously doubted an eighteen-year-old possessed the power to murder a thousand-year-old demon who has yet to be killed despite the numbers who have tried.

But Sanemi, for all that was worth speaking of, was strangely enticing. Whenever your family or friends peeked their nosy heads in to try and hear your conversations with the psychotic looking stranger, his rather brash and abrasive tone of talking melded away into one of perfect formality and intelligence you quickly forgot he had. It was almost devious of him to have charmed your mother as soon as he did despite his rather inappropriate getup — he refused to cover up.

Faster than you would have liked, the setting sun began to turn scarlet red and royal purple against the sky, and you watched one of the nine apparent Hashira walking away, his body disappearing in the crowds of people that were moving about in the town. But, he was taller than most of them, and with that head of white hair, you watched him leave until you could no longer.

“Come back again, please, Shinazugawa-san?” you had asked right before he left, your heart hammering in your chest.

He looked at you, unsure, a million emotions flashing through his clouded eyes. Ignoring the way your family and friends were watching you through the obvious crack in the door, you looked at Sanemi, who rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll see.”

That was good enough for you.

Better yet, the asteroid shower returned that night, and as you took it in with a star dazed smile, you thanked Sanemi, wherever he was.

It seemed to become some sort of ritual for both of you.

Sanemi showing up, both of you talking in the courtyard of your home for a few minutes. Some days he showed up with enough time to eat dinner with your family, who were intrigued to know who he was. Some days your friends refused to leave your side, so Sanemi would as calmly as he could interact with them. Turns out a few of them reminded him of his own friends, and a sense of kinship formed between them all.

But as the sunset and you wished him well and luck, you always asked for him to return.

Sanemi would always respond with uncertainty. But the next day, he was there.

Some days he had more bandages on his body; some days, he looked straight up sick. There were scary days where he wouldn’t appear at all, and he’d be back in two days apologizing. He had come across a few Lower Moons and was hospitalized then had a meeting, he would explain. There were some days he’d let you grab his hand as he explained that he wouldn’t be back for a few days; there was a meeting in Headquarters, and it took a day to get to and a day to return from. Three days have gone from his usual postings, so he would have to spend an additional four days heavily working to make up for his disappearance.

“Fuckers aren’t as strong as they should be anymore,” Sanemi gruffed as you rested your head against his shoulder, his softly resting against yours. “Idiot trainers letting them take the test without their breathing techniques being strong.”

You laughed your finger, raising and pressing against his proud scar on his chest. It had been a year since you had first met him at that point, and now at seventeen, you knew he was proud of his scars, showing them off like the farmers showed off their prized crops, how senseis and masters showed off their awards.

“They can’t even fucking use the Water Breathing techniques correctly,” he spoke angrily, almost bitterly. “That’s the easiest breathing to learn! They had no fucking skill; they don’t use the breathes they should be using!”

“Mm,” you agreed, not really invested in their strengths or if the trainers were blind fucking bats, and your hand rested on his chest. His heartbeat under your fingertips, and you looked at his dark purple eyes. Despite the weird angle, his eyes were beating with the slightest bit of anger. “They sound like the worst.”

You had never known Sanemi to freeze up or startle, but you saw the way his eyes dropped to your lips, the way they drank them in, but he pulled away. His heartbeat suddenly frantic as he stood.

“It’s getting late; I gotta go if I’m going to make the town thirteen kilometers from here,” he grumbled, strapping his katana to his waist and standing up. You quietly followed after Sanemi, listening to him talk about how there was a case this morning but that the supposed demon was an actual cannibal.

As the two of you passed to the front gate, the warm smell of cracked dirt and sweet weeds filled the air. The sun was still high in the sky, just enough for your practically superpowered friend, not a friend, to make it to his suspected town just as the sunset.

He turned to you, falling quiet, obviously waiting for your typical farewell. But, you were trying something new tonight, and maybe from here on out. Sanemi watched with wide eyes as you stepped before him, your lips pressing sweetly against his battle-hardened skin, just kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Stay safe,” you grinned, pulling away, finding the pink in his cheeks and ears as a sign of victory. And as you made your way back into the doors of your home, Sanemi’s hands grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you near once again.

“I didn’t know you were a fucking Water User,” he snaps, and before you could smoothly input, you were not a Breathe user on account of your very serious childhood asthma, his lips pressed against yours, and it suddenly made sense.

The sky during the day was, for the most part, repetitive and boring. But when Sanemi pulled away from you, your lips humming with electricity and pumping blood from your excitement, the backdrop of the sky on the man who held your heart could outmatch even the asteroid shower you had seen.

“Come back again, please, Sanemi?” you slowly spoke, the smile on your face ear-splitting and pure.

“Fuck off!” Sanemi flushed bright red, and he turned on his heel and stormed away.

He listened to your bell-like laughter as he rounded the corner. Well, until he seemingly reappeared before you again, his hands pressing to your cheeks and kissing the laughter from your throat before he pulled away. His voice was gruff, and his body language screamed he was doing everything not to look away from you right now, “I’ll see.”

And it was good, so very, very good.

By the time you were eighteen, you had moved in with Sanemi.

Despite the lack of a formal proposal, how both of you agreed not to marry yet, your parents allowed you to move in with Sanemi. They knew the reason why both of you had decided not to wed and accepted it as long as Sanemi took all responsibility for what would happen to him should anything happen to you.

You still remember Sanemi showing up in the only kimono he owned. It was a bit — okay, try way — too tight against his arms and chest. His katana or usual uniform nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been expecting this to happen; the two of you had discussed this future together plentifully. But seeing him on his knees, a bow that was so low, respectful, and formal, had sent your skin simmering with blazing heat as Sanemi asked to officially court you and if he could also bring you home with him.

Tears welled in your eyes at his beautifully spoken request, and your parents, who may or may not have interrupted a handful of too many gentle, sweet, full kisses between you and Sanemi in the gardens of your home, had expected it.

That sunset, you had watched Sanemi pull his katana and uniform from underneath a tatami mat in your room, and you screeched about how he had hidden it there. He didn’t bother responding as he changed into his needed uniform, and you had politely looked away while he changed. You may or may not have caught sight of his muscled, toned, and scarred legs, though, and you may or may not have thought about it for every second after he had left.

He kissed you wholly before he left that night, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone just softly enough to make you putty in his hands.

“I’ll be back in the morning to help you move in,” he promised, and you nodded your head impatiently, your lips seeking his again.

As promised, Sanemi showed up the following morning, and with the help of the wagon your parents owned, all of your items were carefully exported to Sanemi’s home. A home that was way more than you had imagined. Your fiancé, not quite a fiancé, was always clean, he never showed up covered in dirt or blood, so while you weren’t necessarily expecting him to live in a crate at the side of the road, you were also expecting that from him.

It was a large home with a large courtyard, garden, and training spaces. Sanemi had easily carried your trunks into your (Sanemi and your’s) room, and you had hugged your parents tightly before they left. Their smiles drowned out into the bright sunlight as they went.

The adjustment to living with Sanemi wasn’t as hard as you thought it was going to be. For sure, the most challenging thing was getting your body accustomed to being awake during the night so that you could sleep with him and then spend his waking hours with him. It was perfect, blissful, and wonderful. You’d spend sundown to sunrise doing chores and doing drills with a wooden sword and dummy — Sanemi was teaching you how to handle a katana in case he wasn’t around. You’d write down lists of what you would need when he came home. Thirty minutes after sunrise, nearly without fail, Sanemi would stumble into the house, calling out his greeting.

You helped him bathe the night's blood and grime away, and with gentle hands and coaxing words, dragged him to sleep. At three in the afternoon, both of you would wake, and the day would begin with a sweet kiss good morning. Both of you would go and finish the day's errands, the vendors soon becoming familiar with your face and person. It was a great community, and everyone seemed to hold Sanemi in high regard.

But your relationship changed yet again when Sanemi slammed through the doors one day after sunrise. His eyes were wide, faint pink, already healed over scars risen on his skin as you came to the front door to see your husband, not a husband, discarding his shoes on the floor.

“What’s going on?!” you asked, partially because you were scared and partly because you were slightly exhausted and ready to drag him into bed with you. But it seemed that Sanemi had that same exact mindset, but with a whole other meaning.

The kiss he pressed on your lips was blistering hot; you arched against the intensity of his kiss, your fingers touching the dirt of his face and feeling the heat of his skin.

“I need you,” he simply stated, over and over, his words coiling and festering under your skin until you could do nothing but let out a shaking moan. Exhaustion had burned out of your bloodstream, and a gentle, building warmth sank through your loins as slowly you agreed.

I need you,” you repeat as the sliding doors close behind your shifting bodies, the both of you losing yourselves to the heat and the passions of the early morning lust.

It had been approximately a year since you and Sanemi began to indulge in your shared sexual desires. Your relationship was deep, it was full, and as everything human, had its flaws. There were mornings where he would come home and needed to sleep in a separate room, evenings when he would leave, and his words would be cold and haunting. His life up until now had been a hard one, and you were no fool to believe that your presence would make him forget that.

But in spite of it all, you were always happy when Sanemi would pull off of you, the streams of golden morning light whisping into the room, your body aching with the intensive pleasurable waves as the both of you would ease into sleep. It was perfect, you thought so, at least.

Sanemi, however, always claimed that you were a sight to be seen when he was bottomed out in you. His words were sweet in your ears as his lips brushed your skin, his praises were endless, but even when the drunken hue of the passions of the early morning faded, he swore you were a sight to be taken in at its full glory. Through every praise, every small moment where he would kiss you afterward as the smell of sex and dewy grass wafted into the room, Sanemi wanted you to see how beautiful you were when he fucked you.

You had no idea how that was to work; there was nothing that gave off a good enough reflection. But one late spring day, your eyes at the table you were using, carefully shuffling the funds Sanemi had acquired and placed them out accordingly, the front door was thrown open.

“I’m home,” Sanemi grunted from the first room in the home, and you strained your ears, not hearing the door shut behind him.

“Welcome home!” eventually came your response, your body pressing up from the floor, fingers smoothing down your purple kimono before walking to where Sanemi stood.

By the time you entered the room, Sanemi had already closed the door. But you were less focused on the time interval it took him to enter the home and more interested in the large, covered, and almost ominous rectangular object resting on the wall.

“Whatcha got there?” you asked, head tilting in your curiosity, eyes focused on the large rectangle.

“The obaa-san gave me free smoked salmon because she heard that apparently, we’re trying for a kid. She said eating salmon before having sex will guarantee a strong male heir. So I figured we could make some nigiri,” Sanemi stated, purposefully ignoring your question if the way his lips pulled into a sardonic smile had anything to say about it.

“You’re an asshole,” you laugh, your hand smacking his shoulder only for him to thread his fingers in yours and pull you in for a sweet kiss. You hummed against his soft lips, your fingers running through his hair until the entire sentence he just told you sparked back into your memory. You tugged the ends of his hair just sharp enough for him to grunt in the back of his throat. “Idiot, don’t let them think we’re trying for a kid just yet.”

Sanemi snorts, pulling away from the kiss, “Maybe you should stop talking about your cravings in public — especially with that gossiping vendor.”

“Period cravings are a thing!”

“Yah yah,” Sanemi grunted, his hand waving you off as he gathered his rectangle thing and started making his way off with it. It was enormous though, you noticed as he carried it. It was longer than both of your heights, and if you were to stand at his shoulder, it seemed like it could still be wider than the both of you. “Stop breathing down my neck, weirdo.”

“You’re the one not telling me what that is!” you complain, following Sanemi with enough distance that you weren’t stepping on his heels. “Come on, ‘nemi, tell me what it is?”

“What do you think it is?”

“I hope it isn’t Mitsuri-chan’s present from Iguro-san,” you grumbled, knowing that last Christmas, you had to keep Mitsuri’s present hidden from the lovely Love Breathe wielder. “I can’t handle him showing up in the middle of the day, demanding to see it again. Why didn’t his own home work?”

“Kanroji shows up occasionally, and he only brings her into the best rooms depending on the day,” Sanemi grunted, resting the rectangle onto the wall by your tatami mats. “He won’t confess; she’s dumber than a rock, it’s all annoying. But he’s still… a friend.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re finally admitting to being friends with your fellow Hashira!” you chirped, your arms circling his neck, your grin complete and authentic as Sanemi looked at you unimpressed, his lips in a pout, not a pout, but a pout. You had the privilege of meeting all the Hashira Christmas morning, and they were all lovely people you got along with quite well. “Now, are you and Tomi—”

“That water bastard can choke on my foot and die!” Sanemi snapped, his face fuming, eyebrows narrowing, but his warm arms remaining relaxed and warm around your waist. “I’ll kill him and his stupid ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality.”

“And you don’t get along with someone like that?” you feign surprise, utterly delighted with the way his eyes sparkled dangerously at you. And well, you didn’t ever hesitate to take a bite out of Sanemi. “Guess there’s only enough room for an ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality even in the Hashira, and if it isn’t you… oops.”

Sanemi choked, and you laughed loudly, face nuzzling into his stiff neck as he attempted to escape from your stubborn hold.

“You’re a real jerk,” Sanemi said as monotonously, allowing his much stronger body to be bent down as your lips peppered against his skin and eventually on his relaxed lips that didn’t bother returning your kisses.

“Kiss me back,” you whined, your lips pressing with a more significant, more profound fervor against his mouth.

“No.”

“I’m sorry!” you giggled with no actual apologies in your tone, enjoying the way that Sanemi’s lips slowly began to press back against yours. “Tomioka-san is obviously not the holder of the ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality title!”

“You damn brat,” Sanemi growled, his fingers pinching and pulling at your cheeks, paying no mind to your cries of mercy. “To think that I bought this for you too!”

“You haven’t even shown it to me yet!” you complain, unable to pout on account to his fingers, still pulling your cheeks apart. “You left me in the dark!”

Sanemi grunted, letting go of your cheeks, his purple eyes darkening and narrowing as he slammed a hand over your eyes and twisted you around in a swift movement. You resisted the small gasp hanging at the tip of your tongue when you felt his broad chest pressing into your back, and he moved forward, commanding you to move without a word.

“Is this when you confess you’ve been a demon this entire time and trap my soul into Hell with all your other sexy wives?”

“Would you shut up?!”

Sanemi’s hand tore away from your eyes, and even though you were ready to argue with him just to hear the flaring annoyance on his tongue, you stilled when you saw your reflection perfectly. This had to be a mirror, an invention made in the west a few years ago, and finally, it was here. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that you were smaller than Sanemi, but the mirror made that difference alarmingly apparent.

“I told you I wanted you to be able to look at yourself as I fucked you,” Sanemi whispered against your neck, breaking your attention away from its transfixion on the precise observation you finally had on yourself. “Turns out Tokyo got some imported, and I had to go get one myself.”

“Sanemi,” you whimpered, the canines of his teeth dragging against the tender flesh of your neck that was exposed from your kimono. Your eyes took in the sight of how his eyes stared at your face through the mirror's reflection, they were dark, murkier like this, and when his teeth slowly sank into your flesh, a ripple of pleasure and pain bubbling against your skin, you moaned.

“Look at yourself,” Sanemi purred, his arms circling around your waist, and you felt him slowly beginning to undo the fastenings and fabrics of your kimono. “I need you to understand just how crazy you make me feel when I touch you, when I fuck you.”

The words were hot cinders in your lower stomach, festering and twisting in its warmth as his words buzzed in your ears. Your eyes dragged over to your reflection, and you could feel the beginning steam come out of your ears at the sight of yourself. Your eyes were lidded, perfectly hooded to give off the obvious desire that was growing in your body, your lips swelling with how your teeth tore into them, stopping the small moans that went unheard, and the flush that radiated off your features and glowed in your eyes.

It was a sight that you had never expected to see, and the pure unadulterated lust radiating off your features embarrassed you. The embarrassment only seemed to grow more as the kimono slipped from your shoulder, exposing more of your tender flesh for Sanemi’s mouth and teeth to mark, and your head dipped backward at the lewd scene.

“Look at you, angel,” Sanemi smirked against your skin, his eyes glinting dangerously even though the reflection as you weakly, just barely managed to return your gaze onto your review. You looked even more wrecked as the kimono dropped to the floor, the white undergarments you wore making you look saintly in the reflection and warm light of the streaming sun. “So beautiful, so perfect, and all mine.”

Your fingers fisted into the pants of his uniform. Your knees feeling weak with the possessiveness that came with his words. Unsure as to what to do, all the embarrassment and shamelessness in the world dancing like falling leaves as you pondered what you could do. Usually, you would move with him against him. You didn’t exactly fall into a pillow princess category, but feeling the intensity of his gaze through a mirror, and the way that your body behaved exactly as he had always claimed it had, made your head spin.

You gasped loudly when his hips rutted slowly against your ass, his scarred hands continuing to undress you more, each fabric of clothing that separated your naked body from the mirror disappearing until you were completely nude. And you mewled.

“Look at yourself, angel,” Sanemi laughed against the shell of your ear, his head now against yours, keeping you from even attempting to look away. His large, rough hands glided across your much softer skinned body, watching as his fingers rolled your nipples between his fingers, massaging your tender flesh in his hands.

You saw the way your head dipped backward as you moaned, your eyes fluttering as you did so. Undoubtedly, both of you painted an erotic scene, but it was something you hadn’t ever expected to be confirmed. “You look so beautiful moaning against my touch; I wonder if you’ll like the way your face scrunches up when I fuck your pretty little pussy, or even when I touch it.”

Slight fear shot through your nerves as suddenly, Sanemi dropped to the floor, taking you with him. No pain went through your body as he made impact with the floor. You figured out why immediately, your ass was against his hard crotch, his clothed outer thighs pressing against your naked inner thighs, and you made sight with the mirror and keened at the picture of your spread slick pussy.

Sanemi shifted behind you, and although you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from how your cunt glistened in the light, you shook when you saw his bare arms, felt his bare chest against your back.

“You drive me utterly fucking insane,” Sanemi growled hotly against your ear, crotch grinding up into your ass, and you pathetically looked at your flushed face as you ground back downwards onto him in return. A slow groaned out moan resonated from his mouth, and you shivered and gasped at the noise, your cunt clenching at nothing as Sanemi positioned your arms as he wanted them to be. Clutched into his hair, absolutely revealing your naked body to the mirror, denying you no salacious angle of your body. “I want you to watch me make you feel good, angel. Don’t look away, promise?”

“I p-promise,” you stammer, the slight glint of his eye that you can still see, making your toes curl.

And he began.

Sanemi’s finger slowly traced down your knees, the heat from his flesh nearly burning as you tremble in his hold. Your instincts fight whether to look at him from the mirror or normally.

You keep your eyes onto the mirror. “Good job, you’re doing such a good job,” Sanemi voices, his fingers becoming feather-soft strokes against the inside of your legs that make you arch against his chest. a sharp inhale was what he was rewarded with as his fingers make small circles centimeters from where you crave him most. “I haven’t seen you react this intensely in so long. Is it because you’re watching your pretty face enjoy the praise?”

Unsure what to say, your head nods rapidly, your tongue falling dead in your mouth when his left-hand drags up your abdomen, scratching the underneath of your breasts until you can shake no more. “SANEMI!” you shriek, unable to take the teasing touches and watching your embarrassingly turned on face anymore. “SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING! ANYTHING, PLEASE!”

“Aw, you cracked so fast,” he chuckles against your ear, and you melt into a euphoric victory when his thick, rough fingers plunge into your cunt.

Immediately, your hips snap up to greet him, your body shifting in quick, fast snaps as you watch your soaked cunt fuck against his fingers, desperately, greedily taking him in more and more. The sight of his fingers disappearing into your cunt through the mirror, the way your teeth tore into your lips to keep your singing praises at a minimum, and how you could feel and swear you could see the heat pounding from your body take shape through the mirror.

You had never felt this tight yet undone. Your lust hazed eyes shifting from your almost too lewd facial expressions to the way Sanemi jaw flexed with his growled endless praises, to how your cunt greedily sucked him in, further and further until the pounding of your heart couldn’t even drown out the wet, squelching of your cunt.

“Fuck!” Sanemi cursed, his hips grinding further, harder into your ass, and you keened at the massive hard length that poked into your back. “Look at you, you’re so fucking hot, angel. So needy, so fucking greedy for everything that I’m giving you.”

“I want m-more!” you sob, your body hyper-aware of how fast his curled fingers were pounding into you. You craved the way his battle-scarred fingers dragged against your puffy inner walls, hips bucking so his fingers would drag against the spongy divots, sending your mind spiraling and your jaw falling in your wordless beg for more. You understood why Sanemi craved you like this, why he insisted you needed to see the way you looked when he fucked you because as the hand that was kneading and pulling on your breasts and nipples shot down to make sure your trembling thighs didn’t smash together in your building climax. How he continued to press sloppy, wet, hot, and bitten kisses against your neck, you were a perverts fantasy. “M-More ‘nemi, please give me more!” you practically wailed.

“You gonna cum around my fingers, angel?”

“I needa cum, I wanna cum!”

“I want you to cum around my fingers, look at yourself for me when you do,” Sanemi commanded, and you, in your lust-driven mindset, agreed. Your eyes were looking on your lewd face, and everything crumbled when the growing clenches of your cunt became a tight vice grip.

But the heated pressure between your legs had been festering for too long, the included visuals that sent your brain into putty had you cumming around his fingers, your hips bucking wildly, barbarically against his still conquesting fingers. “Yes, yes yesyesyeysyes, that was so good… your fingers are so good,” you babbled, your eyes crossing, unable to look at yourself anymore. The elation of the orgasm flooding your mind and muscles. But you hadn’t been fucking the man who could pound you for multiple rounds without tiring without picking up a thing or two.

Twisting around your lips that were swollen from your biting and smooth with your saliva crashed against his. Sanemi didn’t resist your kiss, his lips crashing and moving without any hesitation against yours. You moaned when his fingers left your heat, and you slipped your tongue into his mouth as you ground your ass against his still throbbing hard-on. “I want your cock still, ‘nemi. I want you to fuck me with your cock, please fuck me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, okay!” Sanemi snarled, and his thighs slammed shut.

You crawled off his lap, watching as the slick stained spot on his uniform glistened in the light. Frowning, not wanting to disturb him, you couldn't help but lick against the wet area, voice moaning deeply at the musky, sweet scent of your slick against the fabric.

“Y/n!” Sanemi weakly got out, his hips instinctively bucking towards your lapping tongue.

You worked with him to get his uniform off his hips, your body not waiting for him to undress entirely before your mouth enveloped his thick veiny cock. The salty pre-cum invaded your senses, your tongue lapping up the underside of his cock before your mouth took in his swollen red head. You hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked his cockhead, your tongue swiping and moving at his leaking slit as Sanemi cursed the heavens for you, his hands grabbing onto your head and pulling you off him right when that shivering twitch of his cock pressed to your tongue.

Gasping, you looked at Sanemi’s nearly black eyes, disappointment heavy on your features.

“‘Nemi—” you pout, but Sanemi doesn’t let you finish.

You’re back almost straddling his waist, your back flush against his chest. He holds a strong, sturdy hand against your waist, keeping your waiting, wet cunt from lowering onto his hard cock. Your feet on the mats feel weak as you try to hold your weight above him, but when his teeth sink into the back of your neck, a spot that makes your body collapse without reason, you garble a scream when his cock sheathes completely within you.

Heavy, hot pants escape both of your mouths as you’re completely seated on his cock, the nearly inhumane girth of his cock making you dizzy at the surprise entrance. But you were much, much more fascinated with the way your pretty little pussy was stretched out so wide for his cock. He was buried in you, and even though it didn’t hurt to have him in you. The reflection showed how your lips pulled and stretched to fit him in, the small bulge of his cock in you was seen, and you cried in ecstasy.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” you begged, hips long gone from obeying any command Sanemi could try to give you as you fucked yourself against his length. “God, your cock is so good, ‘nemi! You look so good filling out my pretty fucking pussy!”

That is what makes Sanemi lose it, his hands that rest on your hips tightening with a bruising grip as he begins slamming into you. The wet noises of his cock entering and exiting of your sloppy, wet cunt at an even faster speed in which you were fucking him make your nails dig into his thighs, your eyes crossing, breathes hot and heavy.

Twisting, curling pleasure thrums deep within your womb, tightening and warming with each successive thrust that sends Sanemi’s cock rubbing against your inner velvet walls. You cry his name, eyes dazed and dripping with want and need as you watch the slicked shine of his cock pounding into your without mercy.

“You’re so fucking tight like this, angel, so fucking hot. You like the way you look like when I fuck you, huh, look at how godly you appear,” he snaps, his arms hugging your hips, his thrusting becoming short, deep, fierce snaps.

You can’t look at yourself anymore, the heat of the sex and the electric pleasure that rides with every lick of his cock against your cervix, sending your hot, wet lips in search of his. Sanemi meets you halfway, open mouth moans and groans being exchanged between your open mouths as your tongues intermixed and pressed sinfully against each other. The noises that leave your wet sexes only fuel the raging fire in your cunt that has reignited to a hire flame than before.

“Cum in me,” you find yourself begging against his lips. “Please cum in me, don’t pull out, ‘nemi, please don’t pull out.”

“Fuck, fuck, you sure?” Sanemi grunted, his body heaving you both forward so that you were on your knees, and he was absolutely wrecking you from behind.

“Yes!” you affirm over and over again. your mind high off of him and how you looked in the mirror. “I want you in me, all of you in me!”

He let out a guttural whine, a sound that had you shaking beneath him and screaming when the coil in your cunt finally snapped.

Another orgasm crashed through you, and your spinning high echoed in your ears and curled your toes as you whimpered Sanemi’s name. With the sound of his hips slapping against your ass, and with his teeth burying into the nape of your neck, you felt the hot, liquid ropes burst from his cock, filling you up. The both of you remained there, panting as your sweat and slick covered bodies collapsed to the floor.

“So…” he gasped, collapsing onto the mat beside you, pulling you into his chest so that you could rest against his scarred chest. “Did you like the mirror?”

“...I guess,” you antagonize, grinning when he frowns. “It was hot; you make me look hot.”

Sanemi snorted, his lips pressing to your sweat-covered forehead.

“I don’t do shit; that’s how you are.”

You chuckled, warm grogginess settling under your skin as you merely hum in agreement.

“The Hashira meeting is tomorrow, so I’ll be gone for two days,” Sanemi murmurs, reminding you of the dreaded two days alone. It wasn’t as if you had forgotten; you never do.

“Think anything interesting will happen?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, hopefully.”

You giggle, snuggling in closer to his chest. Yeah, hopefully.

#sanemi x reader #sanemi smut #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #kny #kny x reader #bbs kinktober 2020

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spideyspeaches · 3 years

Text

Gorgeous ↬ b.b

A/N: Props to @thefallenbibliophilequote for getting me into bucky XD (fic lowkey based on Taylor Swift’s Gorgeous.)

Warnings: smut :) very smut and nudity.

MINORS DNI

WC: 2.5k+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peter Parker & Reader (Platonic)

Masterlist || Taglist

“Do you think he has a girlfriend?” You asked, sipping at the fairly bitter beer in your hand. Looking over your shoulder, you sighed, slumping on the counter of the bar you were in.

You had been dragged along with your neighbour- Peter Parker, also known as the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, to a club right after an Avengers mission. You were no avenger, just a run in the mill overworked and underpaid preschool teacher.

It had become customary for you to tag along with him to bars with the other Avengers, after you had discovered about his spidery abilities. You had always been close to him, he was your brother in everything but blood. You were after all, his bonafide babysitter/best friend.

The others in his team had accepted you with open arms, a weird bond forming between you and them, accepting you as more than "Peter's hot neighbour" and more like a part of their team.

One particular person seemed to have caught your eye.

Cranking your neck to see his slumped figure, you smirked at his back, eyes tracing his broad shoulders and newly buzz cut hair. You hadn’t talked to him much, but from when you had, you found him to be very sweet. He was shy, rarely spoke and always in his own shell, cheeks rosy pink whenever you conversed. So different from what the media portrayed him as that you found it utterly confusing that such a man could be brainwashed and used as a murder machine.

Your heart ached for him, for how misunderstood he was among the antis. You just wanted to hug the man and give him one big forehead smooch. But, oh were you brought back to reality with a hit that you couldn’t really do that without looking creepy.

"Who? Bucky?" Peter smirked, interrupting you from looking at him. Your willed your heart to stop racing and plummeting in your stomach.

“I thought his name was James?” You said, tilting your head in confusion. From what you had read in a source, his name was James Buchanan Barnes-

“Yeah but Steve calls him Bucky, so everyone does too.”

“Oh, Bucky. Has a nice ring to it.” You nodded, ignoring his smug expression, “answer my question though. I’m not gonna hit on him if he already has a girlfriend. Wouldn’t be surprised if he did.” You grumbled the next part, trying to ignore the flare of jealousy you felt in your chest.

Peter had made it very apparent to you that he was fully aware of your humongous crush on the winter soldier. And that little shit never let go of it, even when you weren't anywhere near the vicinity of said winter soldier.

"Why do you think I would know?" He scoffed, going back to sipping his own bottle of beer. Scowling at him, you opened your mouth, inhaling sharply.

"I don't know, cause you practically live there?" You shrugged, trying to feign indifference. You knew he looked right through it, if his shit eating grin and flushed cheeks were anything if not confirmation.

"Bold of you to assume he even talks to me. And anyway, he hates my guts, him and Sam always prank me, it's practically a routine." He said, rolling his eyes, swirling his bottle lazily, "why do you want to know that anyway?"

"You know why." You hissed. Turning around, your breath hitched when you saw him staring at You, wondering if he was just staring at your general direction and if you were going to embarrass yourself by waving at him.

Apparently he was looking at you, because you swore saw a tiny wave coming at your direction, a small smile playing on his face.

“And what if he did?”

“What is it to you, kiddo?”

"You both disgust me. Bucky with his constant questions about you and you with your constant questions about him" Peter muttered sarcastically. Ignoring him, you sighed dreaming, slumping on the barstool, "don't you already have a boyfriend anyway?"

“And what about him?” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at the mention of him. He was hardly a boyfriend, more of a fling, an excuse to stop the pain of being single (you were dramatic, you knew). You were over him, broken up not long ago, but Peter didn’t need to know that. You wouldn’t want Peter siccing himself at your worst enemies.

“What I know is that he’s one son of a bitch who doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near you. Why are you dating him again?” Peter said, snapping you out of your daze.

“Do you kiss your girlfriend’s pussy with that mouth?” You scowled, huffing pettily.

“I’m sorry, who’s girlfriend’s what?” Tony said, appearing out of thin air, his mouth hung as he gaped at you and Peter. You snickered at Peter’s flushed and stuttering form, counting that as one win tonight.

“My girlfriend’s lips. Y/N’s stuttering cause she’s too busy staring at Bucky.” Peter said, fixing you with a look, his head tilted adorably, jaw clenched like the way it did when he was done with your bullshit.

“Hey I’m not staring at him! He’s just so gorgeous- look at him!” You giggled, watching him stumble from his stool, the alcohol in your veins making you braver than before. You had endured more than one round of teasing from the team about your very obvious crush on one Bucky Barnes, yet you went on with your babbling.

“Yeah yeah, you’ve said what what- oh a million times before!” Peter shrieked, hands up in the air, nearly dropping his bottle. Snatching his bottle, you drowned the remaining liquid, dropping it on the counter with a scow, “are you even old enough to drink?”

“Hey! Let me tell you, I’m turning twenty one in a week, or did you forget?” He said, ignoring Tony, who was shaking his head and grumbling something about being too old for this shit.

“Of course I didn’t forget kiddo.” You said, smiling sadly at him, ruffling his messy brown hair. Ever since you met him, you always loved playing with his hair. They were fluffy, just like your cat’s, “Who allowed you to grow up so fast?”

“Y/n/n! I’m only four years younger than you!”

“Ugh don’t remind me.” It still iffed you to no end that the boy who was once nine years younger than you was now 4 years younger, nevermind that he was mature much beyond his age. Mind briefly averted from one Winter Soldier, you didn’t notice him sit down next to you, startled when he called for you. You didn’t even notice Peter giving you a look before Tony dragged him somewhere.

“Hey, you’re Y/n right? Peter’s-” He started, your brain short circuiting when you saw his piercing blue eyes- the most beautiful shade of blue you had ever seen, staring at you, a small smirk playing on his stubbled jaw. You gulped internally, clearing your throat and sitting straight.

“Neighbour? Yes that’s me.” You nodded enthusiastically, smiling as much as you could without cringing at your ecstatic behaviour.

“I know.”

“Cool.”

Shuffling in your seat, you opened your mouth to speak, only for him to speak before both of you were interrupted by your laughter. Getting yourself together, you gestured for him to talk, “go ahead.”

“So, should I buy you a drink?”

“Only if you let me buy you one.”

And that’s how it started. One drink turned to another, and next thing you knew you were kissing him, his hands in your hair, the cold of his metal arm placed firmly on your bare waist as he bunched your t-shirt up in a fist.

For a moment you weren’t aware of your surroundings, the only thing you could feel was his t-shirt fisted in your hands, his freezing palm causing an eruption of goosebumps on your skin as the cold air of the room hit you full force. Panting, you scrambled for the door, holding his hands in the darkened room as you followed him blindly.

Crashing your lips to his once again, you moan under your breath, chest hitching as you scrambled for your shirt and bra, pulling it over your head as you watched him do the same, smirking at the very apparent bulge on his blue jeans.

“Do you have a condom? You panted, tracing his biceps with your nails as you pulled him so that you were chest to chest, your nipples hardening as your bare chests made contact. You could feel your pussy throbbing, groaning at your already growing lady boner, the place between your thighs slick with wetness.

“In my pocket.” He answered, lifting you up as you wrapped your legs around him, throwing you on the bed with questionable stains. You moaned as he dropped his weight on you, his hands burning flames on your skin as he traced patterns on your bare arms, kissing you with a vigor.

Your hands reached for his jeans pocket, fumbling to find the packet of condom while he traced his lips on your neck, nibbling at the curve of your shoulder, making you shudder with excitement.

“Are you sure you-”

“Yes. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

“Whatever you say doll.”

Your stomach coiled when he called you that, groaning in pleasure as he roughed you up with his hands, his jeans sliding off, leaving his bare thighs barely visible to your eye. His eyes were somehow still illuminated in the dark room, leaving you even more wet than before. You never knew his eyes could turn you on so much that he made you come even before he could slide inside you.

Thrusting your hips, you watched impatiently as he slid the condom on his hardened dick, asking you for permission once more before sliding into you, his hips thumping with yours as he gradually increased his pace, hitting your spot.

“You’re so beautiful, so pretty under me. Perfect little wet pussy you got there doll.” He whispered, closing his eyes as you continued to run your fingers through his hair, holding onto his back with one of your hands, nails digging into his flesh, unable to form any words.

“I’m close.” You moaned, rolling your hips with his as he continued to move, panting, one hand on the headboard and the other on your boobs, keeping you firmly planted on the shitty pub mattress as he kneaded the soft skin, the brush of his fingers on your pebbled nipple your last straw as you finally gave into your climax.

“You good?” He asked, his dick still inside you as you came all over him. Sliding out, you lay on the dirty sheets, your bare body shivering with the excessive hormones that took over you, realising that you had just fucked James Buchanan Barnes.

“Yeah, I’m good, Great. Amazing. Wow I can’t believe this happened.” You said, holding the thin sheet up to your chest as you saw him in the dim lights. His chest was glistening with sweat, his hair stuck to his forehead as you saw him discard the condom in a bin. Biting your lip, you tried not to stare at his bare ass, clenching your thighs.

He gave you a friendly smirk when he caught you, thankful for the dark room, for you couldn’t stand him looking at your burning cheeks.

“You know you can look right?” He smiled, holding your cheek in his cold palm, your own palms sweating as he straddled you, his frame encompassing yours as he towered over you, your thighs already pulsing, begging for a round two as-

“Oh, oh jesus you have nice fingers.” You giggled as he inserted his two fingers in your pulsing core, jerking your hips as he navigated through your slick folds.

“It’s actually Bucky, but Jesus would do too.” He said, silencing you with another kiss. He gave a throaty growl as you kissed him harder, slicking back his hair with one hand, scratching at his scalp with your nails. Smirking under the kiss, you continued to do so until he increased his pace, your throbbing core giving in to the stimuli.

It was somehow easy for you to forget that the man you barely knew had made you come twice in the same night.

“Do you- do you want to go out sometime? Preferably without that Parker kid trailing behind you like a puppy?” Bucky huffed, ceasing his movement to look at you, your mouth open, wiping the smudged lipstick with a finger.

“Aw he has good intentions.” You smiled, licking your lips teasingly as he rolled his eyes, “admit it he’s a good kid.”

“Are you really talking about Parker while I’m fingering you?”

“What? Ew. No, just, he thinks you hate him.” You giggled, shifting on the sheets a little to release your straining pelvis from cramping.

“I don’t hate him, he’s a good kid, but he’s also a little shit at times.” He said, a fond look in his eyes. Your heart clenched at his expression, slowly pulling out of his grasp as you flopped on the bed, turning and looking at him.

“He do be like that sometimes. But to answer your question, yes I would love to go on a date with you.” You smiled, burying your nose in his neck, not even caring that some drunk people might walk in on you two. No one had so far, so you didn’t really care.

To say that you were whipped would be an understatement. You started visiting the compound more often, came to movie nights, spent more time with everyone (especially him).

“No!” You laughed, giggling as he picked you up bridal style, “Bucky! Jeez put me down right this instant or I’ll stick fridge magnets on you!”

You were instantly dropped on your feet, sighing when you felt his arms circle your waist, pulling your back to his chest. The tower was empty, everyone going back to their respective workplaces. It was only the two of you. You could hear him hum under his breath.

“Fridge magnet? Are they those sticky things that stick on fridges?”

“Yes Bucky, that’s exactly what they are. I thought they existed in the 20s?” You scoffed, turning around, falling on his firm chest. Circling your hands around his waist, you pondered at how close you had gotten with him in just a few days. Heck, every time you visited, it felt like you were just growing closer, until you felt your relationship tying in a tight knot. With a snap, you realised that your life might as well be in ruins was he not yours at this moment.

“Only rich people had them.”

Maybe you were going overboard with your feelings, maybe you were rushing things, but you didn’t mind. Getting close to people wasn’t always your strongest suit, but with this man, you didn’t mind having silent conversations. Until you could feel his fingers on every inch of your being.

With your heart thudding in your chest, you realised that you could spend your entire life tightening the knot of your heart with his, listen to him breathe as you laid by his bedside, play silly games with him. You were in love with this man.

“What are you thinking about?” He smiled, still swaying in your embrace.

“Nothing much.”

A/N: the ending is a little questionable but lemme know what you think! Requests are open! :)

#fml it's not showing up in tags T_T #okay here we go last attempt-#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x reader smut #peter parker x reader #platonic reader #spideygirl writes

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hongism · 3 years

Text

mists of celeste ➻ 39

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ word count: 11.7k ➻ rating: M ➻ warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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✧✧✧ act five ➻ part six

You’ve come to the blinding realization that Jeong Yunho is enjoying himself far too much at this very moment. You are standing here preparing to get dragged to high heaven without relent by Hongjoong, and the healer has made himself comfortable in Hongjoong’s chair behind his desk, feet propped up on the corner with a pen dangling from his lips like it’s a piece of candy. It doesn’t help that whenever he stops staring you down, he shifts to look at the man in front of him with sex-laden eyes and you feel positively out of place in this room right now. You are also fairly certain that he’s smirking every time Hongjoong releases a deep sigh, but you can’t focus on that too much when Hongjoong is dragging this whole process out the way he is. If he would just get on with this inevitable lecture so you don’t lose any further shreds of dignity, that would be much preferred.

As though sensing the gaze on the back of his head, Hongjoong turns in his place to glare back at Yunho.

“Can you stop eye-fucking me for two seconds?”

“Not my fault you’re hot when seething with rage.” Yunho’s quip is thrown hastily back, bringing a huff from Hongjoong’s lips as he shakes his head.

“Knock it off before I kick you out.”

“Cute,” Yunho singsongs back, and he lets a smile stretch around the body of the pen between his teeth. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Now is not the time, Yunho.”

“I hardly mind an audience!”

“You won’t be allowed to go on the recovery mission for Mingi,” the captain starts at last, pointedly ignoring Yunho’s last comment as he redirects his focus to where you stand. Yunho pokes his tongue out alongside the pen, glancing between you and Hongjoong, but you only give him your attention for that brief moment. “I highly doubt I need to even begin to explain why this is my decision, but it would be best for you to hear it directly from me. Your actions last night, to put it mildly, were both irrational and childish. You reacted poorly to an already tense situation and not only put yourself at risk, but the safety of the crew at risk as well. What would have happened if you had killed Jisung last night? We would not have had the location of San and thus had no way of knowing where he is being held. You were reckless on all accounts, refusing to listen to both your captain and your lieutenant, who called out to you multiple times while you were talking with Jisung but you seemed unable to hear him in the slightest.”

All you can do is press your lips together and chew at the inside of your cheek. Hongjoong is not wrong, of course, and you would be the first to admit that your outburst last night was more than just a lapse in judgment. As for Seonghwa trying to get you to stop, you truly have no recollection of that, so if he did attempt that you were unable to hear it. There’s no telling how long Hongjoong was lingering at the edge of the room either or if he called you off at all, but those are just unnecessary details at this point.

“Trying to do things on your own out of a purely emotional reaction does nothing for the crew as a whole. Thus, there is no way in hell I would ever let you go on this mission. Allowing you to go would teach you nothing; it would simply tell you that you can get away with shit like that. And I’m telling you now that you cannot and will not under my command.” Hongjoong brings his arms up to cross over his chest. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, still leaned up against the front of his desk as before, and though his tone reads anger, you can’t find any in his posture. Yunho’s still teasing that pen between his teeth. “Yeosang and Jongho will accompany Jisung to recover Mingi according to the agreement you struck up with Jisung. Whereas you, Y/N, will remain on the bridge being monitored since you cannot seem to act like an adult on your own.”

The not-so-subtle dig should burn your pride, but this is humiliating enough to have you already in the lowest depths of your dignity.

“Along with that, we have come up with a failsafe for if Jisung acts up. If he decides to get rowdy and misbehave himself, then you will be strapped to a chair and punished for each of his missteps. That’s… not a conclusion we came to lightly and it’s not one we wish to enact as you are a member of the crew, but we are not sure how else to keep Han in line.”

“Tch, do your worst,” you scoff. You nearly mirror his stance and cross your arms over your chest, but you think twice when you see the quirk of his brow at your tone. You have pushed your luck enough in the past twenty-four hours, so perhaps you need to hold back just a tad until Hongjoong is less… on edge with you. “I was ready to kill myself last night to stop him. What more can you do to me now?”

Now, it’s Hongjoong’s turn to scoff, and the huff of air that follows is so sharp it sounds like a whistle. He pushes off the desk in the same movement, arms falling down to his sides, and with each following word, he takes a step closer to where you stand.

“You think you can afford to be reckless and risk your life over someone as insignificant and pathetic as Han Jisung?”

He’s close enough to jab a finger into your sternum now, knocking hard against the bone just beneath your collarbone. His height disadvantage from last night is gone as well; he must have had time to make himself presentable before calling you up to be drawn and quartered (seemingly for Yunho’s amusement because he’s just having the absolute time of his life over there).

“Do you have every right to act that way with him? Perhaps you do, but you will not, under any circumstances, threaten your own life to prove a point under my command.” Hongjoong presses closer, enough to hiss his next words against the shell of your ear and leaving you to stare past his shoulder directly at Yunho. “I need you alive. When you agreed to be part of my crew, you trusted me with your life. And as such, I will not allow you to throw your own life around so foolishly. Understood?” The distance between you increases as he leans back. You expect more words from him but all he does is arch a brow and stare at you with inquiry to his gaze.

“Yes, Hongjoong,” you murmur before going back to chewing at your lower lip. Hongjoong catches your chin with his index finger a moment later though, forcing you to look back at him.

“Do not mistake my kindness last night for mercy, Y/N. I am your captain still and you will regard me as such.”

“Yes, Captain,” you grit out, teeth pressed so tight that your jaw hurts as you speak. Hongjoong laughs — whether it’s at your expression or the way you force the words out is unbeknownst to you, but he steps back to give you more space after you respond. Yunho hums from his place at Hongjoong’s desk. He slips the pen out to point the tip in your direction, a cruel smile pulling the corners of his lips up.

“It seems you were right after all, Captain,” he singsongs. “Here I thought you wouldn’t be able to keep her in line.” Hongjoong rolls his eyes a bit at that but does nothing more than sending a half-hearted glare back at Yunho over his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” You ask as you watch their brief interaction with a narrowed gaze of your own.

“Hm, nothing, nothing. Now, the real reason I don’t want you going on the mission to retrieve Mingi is that you will be going on the team to recover San.”

“The what?” You echo, brows rising at the mention of San. Hongjoong continues as though you didn’t interrupt, not pausing to answer your question.

“I don’t want to run the crew too thin as it is, but it’s best to send more people with Jisung in the off chance he does decide to misbehave. Once that team returns, you will be dispatched with Wooyoung to recover San.” Hongjoong pauses to smile a little. “That works out best for you, does it not?”

Frankly, Hongjoong has no reason to send you on the recovery mission for San. If he were truly punishing you, he wouldn’t even let you dream of it. So why?

“Why would you let me go on that mission knowing it’s what I want? Wouldn’t a true punishment be to not send me on that mission?” You inquire against better judgment. Hongjoong shoves his hands into his pockets and tilts his chin to the ceiling.

“The punishment,” he starts in a slow, drawling tone, “is refusing to send you on the mission you tried to plan yourself without my approval. And given how eager you are to both protect San and bring him back unharmed, I know that I can trust you to do that. Initially, I was going to send you alone on this mission but Seonghwa suggested sending Wooyoung along too.”

Even with Seonghwa locked up, they still work together on plans and missions. Despite fighting just yesterday as well. You purse your lips as you listen to Hongjoong talk, moreso because of the mention of Wooyoung and Seonghwa’s suggestion that he come along. Seonghwa knows of Wooyoung’s identity, as well as yours, and those facts combined leave you more baffled than anything else. Why the hell would Seonghwa suggest sending two Sirens off on a dangerous mission like this one?

Hongjoong pulls a hand out of his pocket to tap at his chin.

“Today will be a busy day for all of us, but it should be the last busy day for quite some time. If Jisung complies and everything goes according to plan, that is. Yeosang and Jongho will be leaving to accompany Jisung for Mingi’s retrieval in forty-five minutes. They are slated to return late afternoon. Should the mission go off without a hitch, you and Wooyoung will depart shortly after they get back. I will fill you both in on further details later when you are both present. I hesitate to interrupt whatever Yeosang and Wooyoung may be doing at present.” Yunho snorts at that comment, covering the sound with the back of his hand. “After today, you all will be able to have some time to rest and recover before we move forward. We won’t be leaving the planet immediately though. Seonghwa and I are to depart for a short mission of our own tomorrow.”

He doesn’t add any more detail to that bit of information. You can read the context clues and the shift in mood well enough though, and think you have a good grasp of what that mission might be. Subconsciously, your gaze flits over to Yunho again, but his expression is flat and unreadable, leaving nothing for you to pick up on. Hongjoong offers a strained smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Even though you had many missteps last night, your conversation with Seonghwa was, for the most part, not one of them. You did well and kept your promise to leave the decision in his hands in that regard. Your errors were only in what followed that conversation. It’s not easy for someone in your position to show such empathy, yet you managed to do so anyway. Given what Seonghwa and I talked about after you were dismissed, you… you managed to make him feel a bit more human and helped him recognize that his feelings are not obsolete. So, I thank you for that much. I won’t lecture you any further for now, but I do still have many qualms with how you handled Jisung’s taunting and how that behavior affected Seonghwa in turn. I’m in a decent enough mood to not lecture you about that right now. You have earned a sliver of my trust. Work hard to get my respect next.”

You arch a brow, fighting to hold back the scoff that threatens to spill forth.

“What makes you think I want your respect to begin with?”

Hongjoong matches your expression with a fire of his own, and some light returns to his grin.

“Arrogance.”

///

The cool metal floor of the bridge burns your knees even through the thick material of your pants. You’re trying your best not to let it affect you, but the combination of the freezing cold along with Hongjoong’s unending glare on your back is nothing pleasant. You can’t see his glare head-on, which could either be viewed as a good thing or a bad one depending on your perspective. Right now, however, you find it to be unsettling: the way you kneel in front of the observation window that still overlooks a mostly empty hangar bay with Hongjoong seated in his captain’s chair behind you. It would be entirely less frightening if not for the way Hongjoong is twirling a knife in one hand and humming under his breath, just faint enough for you to overhear although you don’t recognize the tune. With one leg crossed over the other and his chin propped up on his free hand, his position only exudes power. That’s very much a power you can feel all too well in this moment, knowing exactly what the intents and purposes of that knife are.

The captain is communicating with Yeosang through the comms system, and in turn, he’s keeping tabs on Jisung’s behavior throughout their mission. You’re banking on Jisung not acting out of line so you can preferably preserve yourself from further bodily harm, but the threat looms past your shoulder nonetheless. Jongho went along with the pair, another hopeful guarantee of Mingi’s safety, yet you were not even allowed to watch them leave thanks to your behavior last night.

The silence hanging between the two of you is deafening, and your thoughts won’t settle for more than a few seconds, so you’re the one to break the silence once it starts to drag.

“Could I ask you something about tomorrow?”

“Go ahead.”

“If Seonghwa were to regret his decision, what would you do?”

It might be a bit of a loaded question, one that he could very well refuse to answer, and his sharp inhale of breath makes you believe he might just do that. Then, a few breaths later, he speaks.

“There isn’t much I could do,” he admits. “Though I would do anything and everything in my power to ease the burden on his shoulders in that case. And you? What would you do if you reach San too late? If he’s already had the serum injected?”

“Do you truly believe he has?” You inquire back, and despite your attempts to sound firm and resolute, you come across more afraid than anything else.

“I know San’s resilience well enough to believe he would never do that, but that wasn’t the question. No matter how slim the chances of failure are, you must be prepared for any possible outcome.”

“Failure?” You retort, bristling a bit where you are seated. You cast a look over at Hongjoong through the reflection, moreso just to glare at him, but you don’t think he can see you looking. “Recovering San would never be a failure. The only failure on this mission would be not being able to retrieve him.” Despite those claims, you can’t shake the thoughts of San forgetting you in your dreams the previous night. You thought the worst pain imaginable would be finding him dead, but him forgetting you before you get the change to — no, it’s not good to dwell on those concerns now.

“Does that mean then that recovering him even at the cost of his memories is still a success to you?”

“The only failure would be not rescuing him,” you reiterate, pushing your tone a bit so it echoes through the bridge. Hongjoong huffs out a laugh. “During my time in the military, I was taught to accept any possibility on a mission. Even if it’s not what I want, I have to accept that a San who is alive and well but cannot remember me is better than one who is broken, gone, or worse.”

You dare to glance over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Hongjoong’s face. He’s smiling a little, just enough to cast the shadow of a grin over his lips.

“You never would have passed for an Elitist, you know?”

“Is that supposed to be a criticism?”

“You are choosing the most logical option, yet your reasoning for doing so is purely emotional. Yeosang would have offered no explanation.”

“And yet he cried every night Wooyoung was gone.”

“Of course he did, Y/N. That’s not the point I’m trying to make,” Hongjoong states. He lifts a brow at you. “The key issue most people have when pretending to be Elitists is that they try to erase all signs of emotion. Elitists still have emotions and feel them as strongly as the rest of us. They merely ignore those emotions often in favor of more reasonable and logical outcomes. Yeosang could have cried every night for months straight, but if I had offered an illogical plan to recover Wooyoung, he would not have taken it.”

“I don’t believe that,” you counter, grumbling the words under your breath before turning back to the observation window.

“Did I hear my name? Are you guys gossiping about me without me?”

“Ah, there you are.”

You glance back immediately at the sound of the newcomer, catching the broad grin on Hongjoong’s lips as he too stands to greet Wooyoung.

“What took so long?”

“Yunho did my hair!” The man reaches behind his head and pulls back the top half of his hair as he matches Hongjoong’s smile with his own toothy one. The whole underside is a blinding blond, top half left black and hanging loose around his face. “Looks hot, doesn’t it?” Hongjoong releases what sounds like a snort then swipes a hand at Wooyoung’s. The movement sends a surge of panic through you for a second, not because you think Hongjoong would truly hit Wooyoung, but because of how the younger might react to the hasty swipe. He crushes that fear in an instant, laughing loud and clear as Hongjoong lands his palm on the other’s head and ruffles his newly dyed hair until it’s a mess atop his head.

“Ask Yeosang when he gets back. Did you make time to visit Seonghwa too?”

Wooyoung’s smile wavers some at that.

“I did, yeah.” Wooyoung glances down. Even with the odd angle, you can see the conflict in his features and the way his brows strain to keep from slipping further together. Hongjoong must see it too because he’s next to speak.

“…And?”

“It’s hard seeing him in that position,” Wooyoung says under his breath. “I’m not… not used to it and I hate every ounce of it. I don’t like seeing Seonghwa weak, and even though I know he’s not, it still feels like he is seeing him that way. Brings out old feelings I’d rather not revisit honestly.” Hongjoong brings a hand up to run through his fading blue tresses to hide the way his fingers tremble.

“I’m assuming Han wasn’t present when you went down there?”

“I went before they left this morning. With, um, with Yeosang, but Han seemed to be asleep the entire time. Didn’t move or look at us at least. We — we didn’t talk about anything important either.” Wooyoung’s gaze flits over to where you’re standing. You incline your chin a bit but stay mum, knowing the implication behind his words. They didn’t discuss anything related to Sirens, that is, which is mildly encouraging for you if that means anything at all. “Yunho was gonna head down there when we finished my hair too.”

If that surprises Hongjoong, the captain doesn’t let it show. It shocks you some, on the other hand, given that you’ve witnessed them fight and argue more than they’ve been civil in your time on the crew. Commenting on that won’t do you any good so you stay quiet, eyeing Hongjoong’s demeanor out the corner of your eye while he continues to speak to Wooyoung.

“Anyway, that’s not important right now. The mission?”

“Right, the mission,” Hongjoong mutters even though his mind seems to be elsewhere. He lifts a hand and beckons you closer, and you move to stand alongside Wooyoung near his chair. “Han disclosed the location of the military complex where San is being held. It’s further up in the Upper Echelon than the brother was but also more highly guarded.” Hongjoong pauses to spare a glance in Wooyoung’s direction. “Are you sure you want to come on this mission? I won’t force you if you don’t feel ready.”

At first, all Wooyoung manages is a thick swallow.

“I… I-I want to be ready,” he stutters after a moment of deliberation. “I want — I don’t want what happened to me to affect the well-being of the crew.”

“I can easily go in your place, Woo. I don’t mind if you don’t feel comf—”

“No,” Wooyoung interjects, shaking his head all the while, and Hongjoong actually falls quiet at the interruption. “No, then what? What’s your plan? You want to leave Seonghwa stuck in a cell with Yunho, who can’t fucking kill anyone, as his sole protector while some psychopath mills about the ship as he pleases?”

“Yeosang and Jongho will be back with Mingi by then. We have a plan for Jisung as well, to keep him somewhere out of Seonghwa’s vicinity and within reach. It will have to do temporarily, and besides, Yunho can step up when he needs to.”

“He can’t hold a gun without throwing up; what makes you think he has the balls to kill someone?”

“I — we’re working on that still, admittedly, but he’s getting better.”

“Hongjoong, I’m fine. I talked to Yunho yesterday and ran through the whole screening with him. He didn’t see an issue with me so I’m clear to go on a mission, and I am okay with going on a mission. I’ll be with Y/N the whole time, right? That should be enough! I know how to fight and defend myself. Whatever happened in that brothel shouldn’t bother me.” Wooyoung, if nothing else, is quite adamant, leaving forward into Hongjoong’s space a bit to clutch at his forearm. Hongjoong merely blinks down at the offending hand but does nothing to remove his touch before offering a hesitant nod.

“Okay, I trust you.”

“Are you worried about San?” Wooyoung inquires. His teeth sink into his lower lip moments later. If he aims to probe deeper into Hongjoong’s feelings, the captain does well to not let anything slip through his countenance.

“I worry for all of the crew. San is no different.”

“San is a bit of a special case though, isn’t he?”

Now that’s a first for you. The first you’ve heard such a thing be said about San, that is. You have known since the mission in Echidna that Hongjoong values and cares for San quite a bit. To this extent, however? You’ve not heard anything memorable. Hongjoong and Wooyoung share an unspoken conversation with just that ounce of information, and you are left to your bewilderment. Whatever it is they’re talking about, you have no idea. There’s no time to ask either because Hongjoong clears his throat and dismisses the topic as quickly as Wooyoung brought it up.

“I’ll put the coordinates of the warehouses in Channel 7, so tune over to that channel and sync your wristbands and earpieces. It will just be the three of us and Yeosang listening in this time. As soon as the others get back, Yeosang will bring Jisung to the bridge. I don’t want him with Seonghwa anymore, but we still need to keep him on lockdown for now. Jongho will take Mingi to Yunho and help look after him while you two are away. Yeosang asked to be connected for your sake.”

“Of course he did,” Wooyoung huffs. The roll of his eyes is nothing but affectionate, present but a faux annoyance.

“It’s just for precaution though; you won’t have any backup in there. Once you two are on the ground, you’re on your own.” The discomfort Wooyoung exhibits is minimal and hard to catch. It’s there, however, a shift from foot to foot and a glance over at the wall like something is about to jump out at him. Hongjoong pushes closer and drops his hands atop the younger’s shoulders. “I… hesitate to say this because I do not wish to take this choice away from you, but I think it is in everyone’s best interest to keep you off this mission.”

“No, no, I’m okay. I’m fine! I can go on the mission, Joong, I want to go on the mission,” Wooyoung rambles, head shaking frantically from side to side. “I’m strong enough, I can fight, I can r-recover San. With Y/N. We can recover San.”

“You don’t need to convince me of that, Wooyoung.” Hongjoong’s lips fold down. “I also don’t need you to go on this mission to prove that. I already know those things of you regardless.”

“I just… I w-want to be okay enough to go on the mission because everyone else is,” Wooyoung mutters loud enough for both you and Hongjoong to hear. “Everyone else is okay. I don’t want anyone to — to worry about whether I’m okay or not.”

“Wooyoung…” To your surprise, Hongjoong huffs out a laugh and cracks a strained smile. “My lieutenant has locked himself in the brig, my strategist has been tearing his hair out for days on end and I think I found a bald spot on the back of his head the other day because he’s been so stressed over recovering you, my bruiser is quieter and broods more than ever, and our dear ghost here is dealing with seeing an old teammate who manipulated her memories and kidnapped three members of the crew. I have not slept more than three hours in the past two days, and no more than twelve in the past week. The only person who is even mildly okay right now is Yunho, but that’s only because he is in denial about how much this is weighing on him and using physical pleasures as a way of coping with the stress. You don’t need to be okay because no one else is either. Not right now at least. It would taste a lie to pretend like anything about this situation is something you should be okay with. Once San and Mingi are both back and safe, and once Han Jisung is properly taken care of, then we’ll be able to rest and recover.”

“I — o-okay.” Wooyoung’s shoulders fall forward as he relents, but he doesn’t put up more of a fight. “Does Yeosang really have a bald spot though? I mean, I yanked his hair pretty hard last night because I got a bit carried away and saw something on the back of his head but I thought I was just seeing things. Is it actually there? Maybe I should be more gentle with his poor head then.”

“You — Wooyoung, I-I am not — this is hardly important!”

“Excuse you, my lover’s hair growth is extremely important!”

“He has a fucking bald spot, I already told you that much. Now, enough out of you, and get some legitimate rest while you can. Or if you’re feeling restless, you can see if Yunho needs help with anything in the medbay.”

“Yes, Captain.” Wooyoung bows his head a tad before sending a half-hearted wave in your direction. You return the gesture with a smile, watching him turn on his heel and exit the bridge the way he came. His shoulders are pushed back a bit more this time, there’s some confidence to his steps that he didn’t have when he came, and you can practically feel the relief that oozes off his body even when he’s out of sight.

“So that leaves just us then?” You ask once you tear your gaze away from the archway.

“We’ll keep Yeosang on the line since Seonghwa will still be unavailable. Nothing else about the plan will need to change.” Hongjoong turns back to sit in his chair once more, but you stay put, watching his movements out the corner of your eye.

“You mentioned going back out into the city tomorrow. When do you plan to leave for that?”

“If everything goes well today then… hm, we’ll probably leave the planet around three days from now? Just in case Yunho needs other supplies that we don’t have readily available here on the ship.”

“So there will be one last day here before we all leave? Where we should all be on the ship, I mean?” Teeth sink into your lower lip after you pose the question. Hongjoong’s gaze turns analytic and searching, but you offer no more information as it is.

“Yes…” He affirms after several seconds of hesitation. “Why is it you’re so curious?”

“Something has been bothering me since recovering Wooyoung from the brothel.”

“Enlighten me.”

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting to even get this far with the conversation. Part of you thought Hongjoong would shut you down before you got a chance to explain yourself, and all the thoughts you had of bringing this up to him were fleeting and momentary. The lack of prior planning makes you stop in your tracks and stutter over air.

“I – in, um, while Jongho and I were waiting for Yeosang to go through, I c-came across a girl who used to be on my team. Back in the military, I mean. She was a worker there and apparently has been since my team defected. It’s… I understand that I’m not in any position to ask for things, and she didn’t ask me to help her in any way, but I can’t help but to want to get her out of there. Seeing what Wooyoung suffered in there wasn’t pleasant, and I can’t rest easy thinking of her suffering the same way.”

Sure you promised Soojin that you would help her find leads on Ash and Juyeon without saying you would help her get out, but her only reason for not wanting freedom was the lack of a place to go. “I don’t have anything left out there beyond the House.” If you could do anything to convince Hongjoong to take her in, even just for a short period of time to get her back on her feet, that would be more than ideal.

“You can’t rest easy? Then forget about her.”

“I — what?” You should not have let yourself have an ounce of hope, it seems.

“Put her out of your mind and forget about her if you do not wish to imagine her suffering.”

“Hongj— Captain, I can hardly—”

“Y/N, your former teammates seem to have a streak of being less than kind. Don’t forget how you acted in your first few days on the ship. How can I trust someone I don’t even know to not do the same? And all things considered, I cannot trust your memory to recall the truth.” Hongjoong lifts his brows as he speaks. There is no anger in his features or in his tone; moreso a sense of finality that offers the smallest window for you to argue back on the matter. You take the chance nonetheless.

“She can vouch for herself seeing as she helped us escape. You can ask Jongho and Wooyoung as well, they witnessed it as well as how she helped me. Jisung tried to kill her the night of the mission — he sent an assassin to dispatch her before she could see me simply because he knew we would come across each other. And she told me part of what truly happened the night I killed the king, and I believe what she said.” You pause to inhale a deep breath of air, lungs straining from the sheer amount of air you are trying to force into them. “Captain, I am not looking for you to drop everything for her. The last two living teammates of my team left with her, but she was alone with no knowledge of where they are or if they are even alive.”

“Why waste time thinking of the dead?”

“Why forget about them when there is even the slightest chance they’re alive?” You counter. You don’t intend to sound so inflamed about the topic, but the heat resides in your tone and burns the tense air hanging between you and the captain. His jaw shifts. “I would be content even if you could only promise that I have a way to deliver information about them back to her if possible. I know you have contacts here on Dorado.”

“And I suppose you’ve come up with an entire escape plan as well?”

“I — no, I hadn’t thought of that. To be honest, I’m not even sure she wants to be saved, but that could only be because she doesn’t see a way out.”

“You have a knack for wanting to save people who don’t want to be saved. You and Seonghwa are similar in that matter, but there comes a time where you must realize you can’t be everyone’s savior.”

“What do you mean by that?”

One corner of Hongjoong’s lips quirks upwards, and he arches a brow to match the movement.

“Is it really that hard to figure out? The pardon papers, to begin with, the whole reason you even met the crew. Did you think I had no clue of what your intentions were on that military ship? Especially when my intentions were the same? Imagine my surprise when I arrived in the captain’s cabin to learn you had taken them already.”

“Why did you hold off on that information all this time?” You had been convinced at the time that it was for no other reason than to cause a bit of chaos and steal some cargo. But to find out that Hongjoong had the same goal? What’s his play here?

“I no longer need those papers so it would have been futile to mention them before now. They were meant to be a bargaining chip for the client I met on Echidna, but seeing as he is dead and gone… hardly important, no? But that’s beside the point — your intentions are what we’re discussing. Who were those papers meant for? Had they been for you, you wouldn’t still be lingering around the crew like this, would you? I think you imagined you would be able to save Jisung in some way with them.”

“Hardly!” You sneer back, clutching blindly at your chest as though to find the spot where you used to hide those papers. They aren’t there anymore, you know that, and yet you still ball a fist around the fabric over your chest. “They were never meant for him, but I didn’t imagine this was the kind of person he would turn out to be!”

“Then they were meant for this girl you came across? One of the other two who are missing? Or perhaps was it another, who is no longer present? What is it you think death really is, Y/N? Why do you keep clinging to someone who is no longer alive? What good does pardoning him do?”

You have no response or defense. Nothing you say will appease Hongjoong; you believe that with every fiber of your being, and the way he is staring you down currently offers no relief.

“You see, Y/N,” Hongjoong starts as he pushes up off his seat. He stays up on the platform with his chair, looming over you with the height of the stairs to his advantage, and now there’s a special glint to his gaze that leaves you transfixed. “Your issue that when it comes time to make a difficult decision, when push comes to shove, you turn tail and run. If I had given you a single key last night and told you that you had the power to release one person in the brig, who would you have chosen?”

“Seonghwa.”

“Who would you have chosen?” Hongjoong persists, stepping further into your space.

“What are you trying to get at? I gave my answer already. It would be Seonghwa, and that’s that.”

“And if it had been before the conversation we shared before you went into the brig?”

“It never would have been Jisung,” you snap back.

“All he had to say was ‘I’ll take you to San’ and you would have released him without a second thought.”

Fuck.

Fuck. You have to clench your jaw to keep from exhaling your frustration, but it only highlights your annoyance.

“You’re saying you wouldn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t, because I know he would have given up that information eventually, Y/N.” Hongjoong’s gaze is anything but smug and gloating — if anything he’s regarding you with no emotion at all. It’s still enough to cause you to drop your chin to your chin and huff out a mirthless laugh.

“Is this the part where you say caring is weakness?”

“No, I would be quite the hypocrite if I said that. I’m telling you that you have to accept the fact that there are people who cannot be saved. Whether that’s because they do not wish to be saved or because it is impossible to save them. Let yourself care about people; that’ll keep you alive. But caring too much? There’s your weakness.”

“That’s bold of you to say, is it not? Where’s the line then, Captain? When it becomes love?”

“Love? Love is a concept made by weak people for those with even weaker wills.”

And when Hongjoong breathes those words, you almost believe them. Face value, meaningless terms such as love — what good have they ever done you? You and Seonghwa never loved each other, not truly at least because otherwise, things wouldn’t have fallen apart the way they did. Your memories tell you that Jisung loved you in some sense at one point but what did that do? Cause him to have a psychotic break? Cause you to ruin the only good you had in your life?

You hate the image that comes to the forefront of your mind. The memory that accompanies it is almost more painful.

“But I just feel like I’m broken glass that’s been put back together the wrong way.”

“Then I’ll take you apart and put you back together the right way.”

You clench a fist by your side, squeezing the skin around your knuckles in a way that has your nail digging into it. It does nothing to will away the dimpled smile in your mind, nor does it make your breathing come any easier, but Hongjoong continues on and offers enough distraction for you to ground yourself.

“Depending on how today and tomorrow go, I will consider our options and what’s possible for your friend. But I will not risk the safety of my crew again.”

“What happens once San and Mingi are back?” You inquire, head tilting naturally to the side. “Do you plan to kill Jisung and be done with it or…?”

Hongjoong’s initial response is a firm shake of his head.

“We’re already weak and spread thin as it is. I can’t risk endangering the crew further by starting a war between Jisung’s crew and ours.”

“Jisung won’t just leave if you ask him to.”

Hongjoong’s gaze flits over to the side, a hasty and clever avoidance of your stare as he finds purchase on some dent in the wall.

“Yunho and I did some talking last night… about the serum and how it works.”

“Is that your definition of pillow talk?” You scoff. Hongjoong jerks his head back in your direction and settles a sharp glare on you that holds little actual anger to it.

“Jisung knows a lot about it and how it works. Yunho hopes to be able to get some information out of him once he’s back with the others. We still have leftover vials from the Kebos mission. If you wanted, we could administer a dose on Jisung and make him forget all about you.”

“If I wanted,” you echo, pointing a finger at yourself as you emphasize the word.

“If you wish for the choice to be in my hands, then I can be cruel for you. But just as with Seonghwa and his mother, as well as Mingi and his choice to not use the serum, this is something personal. The choice is yours to make as he is your past and not mine.”

“I’ll consider it,” you whisper. The weight of that choice is undeniable even if tempting because of how glorious a revenge it would be to do the same thing he did to you back to him. Just doing it back to him won’t fix what Jisung did to you, however, nor will it bring Hyunwoo back from that empty grave. “You sure are giving me a lot of choices for someone who is supposedly upset at me.”

“Hm, well, you are also not allowed to go back to the brig unsupervised from now on. Does that work for you? Ample punishment?”

“Nevermind, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Punishment is never effective for people like you, Y/N,” Hongjoong retorts. “It doesn’t encourage you to do better because you do not care about having to go through some sort of punishment. Keeping you from going to get san would only make you more likely to go against my orders. You are someone who needs different consequences for your actions. You don’t like being held back or feeling small and powerless? I strip you of what power you imagine yourself to have and hold you back from minute things like going to the brig alone.”

“That’s not true,” you scoff, arms coming up to cross over your chest at the same time.

“Oh? And what if I told you right now that I was disappointed in your actions last night? That I thought I could trust you to not make rash decisions, to think with your head and not your heart? I told you earlier that I still have qualms about how you handled Jisung and what effect that had on Seonghwa. Whatever respect I had for you before then was lost in that moment. You may have a sliver of my trust, but respect? You lack that entirely.”

“Don’t say meaningless things, Captain, it doesn’t suit you.” You bite the words out between gritted teeth. If anything, your show of anger only amuses Hongjoong further. “That means nothing to me, as I said before. Why should I care about your respect?”

“Do you truly mean that, Y/N? People like you thrive off the approval of others. Is that not why you let yourself be entangled with Seonghwa for so long? I wouldn’t expect those feelings of respect to linger if I were you.”

“Do you simply thrive on taunting me?” The counter betrays how stupidly affected you truly are by his statements and questions. And deep down, sure, you know he is absolutely correct in saying all that, and you blatantly ignored a lot of things in favor of latching onto the respect and care Seonghwa provided, but for someone as arrogant as Hongjoong to point it out? You hardly want to agree with him now.

“Follow me.”

You could stand your ground and deny the captain, put on a little tantrum and show your denial, but in the long run, that would only prove Hongjoong right. So, against what you truly want to do, you push your legs into action and trail after Hongjoong when he begins to step away from his chair. Admittedly, you are waiting for the hammer to drop: perhaps he’s bringing you to an airlock and finally knocking you out of it. Nothing happens though, and you are left to glare at the clacking heels of his boots as he leads you further down into the ship. It isn’t until you reach your destination that you realize exactly where Hongjoong has taken you.

It’s a rich form of torture from him, to take you to the brig as though to taunt you with your regrets from last night. He doesn’t even bat an eye as he lifts the hatch and motions for you to enter. At the very least, Jisung’s cell is empty (as expected) and he cannot add to the mockery of your pride and dignity.

The moment your boots hit the floor, the rattling of Seonghwa’s chains resound. Hongjoong follows, hitting louder than you did, then the hatch snaps shut and seals you inside the brig like it’s your doomsday.

“Y/N?” Seonghwa calls out. He must have felt the tug in his chest that you did when you hit the floor, the tiniest bit of connection holding the two of you together. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if Wooyoung perhaps felt the same just now.

Instead of finding you, however, Seonghwa is forced to greet Hongjoong first as the captain rounds the corner before you do.

“Joong…” Seonghwa starts, trailing off as he sees you standing just past the captain’s shoulder. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Hongjoong doesn’t answer immediately; he approaches Seonghwa’s cell and reaches a small hand between the bars to catch hold of his lieutenant’s chin. His grip isn’t tight or bruising, just enough to guide Seonghwa’s face up so he can look the other in the eye.

“What was it you told me last night after I dismissed Y/N?”

“…I would not repeat it in front of her, Captain.”

“You said you were scared. You were afraid of what you saw in her right then, that’s what you said. Was it not?”

“I — it was, yes, but I—"

“You told me that you saw a direct reflection of yourself in her. The version of yourself that you fear and hate the most. Did you or did you not say that?”

“Please, Hongjoong, is this not cruel?” Seonghwa begs. He doesn’t budge from Hongjoong’s grasp but he spares a few darting glances your way as he speaks. Hongjoong follows his line of sight to land on where you’re standing several feet away.

“This is a lesson in obedience for you, Y/N. You want to be feared? Fine, go out and be feared by our enemies. But your own crew should never be afraid of you. How do you expect them to trust something they fear?”

You clench your fists by your side. White-hot anger swells in your chest.

“That’s unfair. Do you say the same thing to Mingi?” You snap back, but you’re unable to bring yourself to look at Seonghwa.

“You are not Mingi, Y/N. Far from it actually. And as such I will not have my crew fear you or what you might do. You don’t care for my disappointment or respect? So be it. But I hope you dwell on the knowledge that Seonghwa, the man who knows you possibly better than anyone else on the crew, who has been with you intimately, laid with you in the most vulnerable positions possible, a man who has put his life and well-being in your hands, was afraid of you because of your actions last night.” Hongjoong’s fingers curl a little harder under Seonghwa’s chin, and the captain returns to staring the chained man in the eye when he speaks next. “I asked one thing of you last night, Y/N, and you promised to uphold it.”

“I am willing to trust you with this and with Seonghwa, at least for now. Take care to remember that, especially when it comes to Seonghwa’s heart. For if you mislead him in the slightest, there will be hell to pay.”

“Instilling fear into my lieutenant’s heart was a poor choice on your part.”

“It wasn’t — I didn’t choose to do that!”

“The ice under your feet is quickly cracking, Y/N, so I suggest you take great care with your next words and actions. Otherwise, I will make certain that your only purpose here is to be nothing but a key to my treasure.”

“Hongjoong, don’t you dare sa—”

His hold on Seonghwa disappears in a quick shove, the chains around Seonghwa’s neck rattling as he moves with the push. The lieutenant falls silent in an instant, and he squeezes his eyes shut as though to keep himself from fighting back. Your fists tighten by your sides but you don’t dare move when Hongjoong’s glare is so full of animosity that it could burn you from across the room.

“Be prepared to leave within the next thirty minutes before I change my mind about bringing you on this mission. The others will return soon.”

“Y/N — Hongjoong.” Seonghwa pushes himself up enough to stretch a hand through the bar and catch the end of Hongjoong’s coat tail. “Do not do this, please, this is far from what I wanted! You promised to protect her and—”

“And I am still protecting her. As long as she remains useful.”

“H-He, Y/N, he doesn’t — he’s not… that’s not what he means!”

“If you wish me to be your perfectly silent little weapon, Captain, then so be it,” you spit, ignoring Seonghwa’s pleas. Hongjoong yanks his jacket free of the man’s grasp and steps out of his reach. “But only because I benefit from this too. When it comes time for me to uphold my end of the bargain to Jisung, don’t expect me to be as willing to stay in your care.”

“Y/N, no, no, no—”

“You don’t get to talk, Seonghwa, not when you were the first to let me go.” That stops the lieutenant in his tracks because he knows you have him pinned there. Still, his jaw works in a hapless rhythm that leaves him with stuttering breaths and small noises of frustration.

“That was — that was before I-I knew what he was like, Y/N.”

“I won’t have this conversation in front of an audience, Seonghwa,” you mutter. It’s moreso an attempt to save yourself from the all too painful clench in your chest. If either man before you notices that, they opt not to comment on it, but Hongjoong gives a small shake of his head.

“Then you have thirty minutes to have it now. You had best be at the west airlock by then,” he says just before shoving past you with nothing more than a tiny glance back at Seonghwa. You are of half a mind to follow him out without a word, to leave Seonghwa where he is because you have been avoiding this exact conversation, but you can’t get your legs to function even after the hatch to the brig falls shut behind Hongjoong when he exits.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, Y/N, and you don’t—”

“That’s not the issue here, Seonghwa,” you interject before he can finish the thought. The next sound to leave his lips is a laugh but it sounds so heartless and void of life that guilt twinges in your chest.

“Is it because I said I was afraid of you? Or has your heart finally grown cold towards me as I expected it to from the start?”

“Don’t say that.” You intend for the words to come out with venom, but they sound more like a heartbroken plea than anything else. Seonghwa licks the edges of his dry and cracking lips. “Do you think I’m so cruel?”

“It… no, Y/N, I don’t. It’s because I don’t that I think it’s only a matter of time.” Seonghwa forces a hand up to curl into his dark locks, tugging at the strands at best he can as his chains rattle around him. “I think your heart is too big for your chest, just like San. And even if it was not my intention, I think I used that against you in many ways.”

“I was the one who initiated things, Seonghwa. I asked you to… to have sex with me and distract me. I used you to start with, so I know I carry blame as well.”

“I still pushed you even though I knew how much San means to you.”

“That…” You trail off only because emotion lodges so deep in your throat that it hurts. Swallowing it back down hurts even more, but you manage it without more than a grimace. “At the time, I didn’t realize what that meant or what he meant to me. Even now, I don’t think I fully grasp what my feelings are towards him. That doesn’t mean — I never resented you, and I still don’t.”

“Separation has the power to make us realize things we were blind to,” Seonghwa mutters back. “It made me realize I was unfair to you, even after I promised I would not have you unfairly.”

“I didn’t think it to be unfair.”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t.”

“Why are you so desperate to be a martyr?”

“Why won’t you accept that I wronged you?”

“Do you want me to hate you?” You fire back, taking a quick step in Seonghwa’s direction. He straightens some and pulls himself to his knees.

“I don’t know how to fix the places where I went wrong. I… I wish to hear them from you if only to know that you know what I did wrong, or — or just understand that it’s not merely my mind trying to trick me.” Seonghwa looks weak again: pressed on his knees in a way that must hurt, head hanging to hide his eyes, fists clenched around the fabric of his pants. As confident and strong as he sounds, his posture only reads weakness.

“I never thought about it, Seonghwa,” you admit through the breath of silence that follows. “Perhaps we were both blind to it at the time because we — well, I thought you were all I had. I didn’t know what Wooyoung was at the time, I didn’t ever have another Siren in my life, and you were the first person I had with who I could share that burden. I understand withholding information about Wooyoung’s identity from the others, but why me? Especially given that you all knew there was some sort of connection between us. You still held that back from me until there was no more avoiding it. And you did the same with your… relationship with Hongjoong, and I’m not one to be jealous or demanding, but if you still loved him — and I think we both know how you feel about him even now — then I wish you had said that. I should have told you how I felt about San at the time as well, especially as I began to realize it more and more.”

“I would have told you about Wooyoung in an instant, I promise you that much, Y/N. If it had been my place, I would never have let you believe we were alone in that way. But Wooyoung was never ready to tell you until he didn’t have a choice any longer.”

“And as for your lingering feelings towards Hongjoong?”

“I should have told you sooner, yes. I truly believed… I didn’t imagine those feelings were still lingering until I was faced with almost losing him.” Seonghwa at last shifts his pathetic stance, folding his legs under his body until he’s in a more comfortable sitting position.

“When we talked about me leaving with Jisung, and — Seonghwa, you didn’t hesitate to say that your fate is to die at Hongjoong’s side. I just wanted you to ask me to stay. But you didn’t ask me to, and your first reaction wasn’t to do that either. You’ll never be mine, Seonghwa. Not completely, and… right now, in this present we’re living in, I don’t think you can ask me to be okay with that. If you love both of us, then so be it. I see no fault in that, and I’m not trying to say you are at fault for it either, but that moment hurt more than I think you realize.”

“Then I apologize,” he whispers. He lifts his chin just a hair, enough to look you in the eye and enough for you to see the steely resolution in his gaze.

“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

“I believe there I need to apologize for many things. But primarily, I led you to believe I would be wholly yours knowing — knowing that I would never be able to give you that. Y/N, I did not lie to you once about how I felt. Even if my previous promises were empty in your eyes, please know I am genuine in saying that.”

“I’m sorry too, for not realizing my feelings sooner and leading you in a different direction all the while.”

“I have to respectfully disagree, Y/N.” Seonghwa smiles a little, although it’s a sad little grin that’s tight-lipped and doesn’t reach his eyes. “You didn’t lead me on, from my point of view. As you said, until Wooyoung’s revelation, you thought I was all you had. I think it was only natural for us to pursue each other on a physical level in that way. Feelings were bound to get complicated eventually. I knew they would because that’s how it was with Hongjoong so I… should have known earlier on.” Seonghwa lets out a shaky sigh. The smile crumbles and leaves no trace behind, only drifting into a thin line. “San cares about you a lot, Y/N, and I wish for you to have someone like him who can give you his all.”

“Bold of you to give such advice when you and Hongjoong continue to dance around each other,” you whisper through a grin. Either the words or the warmth of your tone bring a genuine huff of laughter out of Seonghwa’s chest.

“It’s what we do best. Yunho is good for him in lots of ways. He needs someone who can fuck with no strings attached and without feelings getting in the way of things. Yunho loves all of us in different ways, and how that love manifests is different for everyone as well. I cannot fault him for comforting Hongjoong the only way Hongjoong knows how.” Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut, but the smile persists, and it looks more like he’s visiting an old memory somewhere in the back of his mind rather than that he is in pain. “Don’t worry about me, Y/N. You should focus on getting San back and making sure he does not slip through your fingers this time.”

“I think I’ll always worry about you, pretty boy.” You hate how fragile your tone is; there’s too much of a tremor to it, and you sound far too sad for the smile painting your lips.

“Always is a long time, princess.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I don’t mind always.” Seonghwa hums. It’s a content and pleased little sound, nothing indecent, yet his lips tremble even as he pushes his tongue between his teeth. If his eyes were open, you’re confident you would see red rimming his irises and clear tears ready to fall.

There is nothing left to say for now: maybe at some point in the future this is a conversation to revisit and resurrect, but now it’s final in a bittersweet sense. The feeling of walking away this time hurts more than it usually would, although you think you might be able to feel the ache in Seonghwa’s chest without being Sirens. There’s no use in wondering if he feels the ache in yours — the line between his pain and yours is a thin and blurring one, overlapping and twisting together with two threads of different colors. And if Seonghwa has always been a fire in your eyes, then his would be a bright red thread that twists around your finger and keeps you linked to him even as you leave the brig.

The time to feel sad and mourn the loss of whatever feelings lingered between you and Seonghwa is far from now. Perhaps that is cruel torture in and of itself. To lose the chance to mourn is something you think you’re familiar with, but there’s no guarantee that those memories are real. So instead of crying or letting the pain swell, you merely bite down hard on the tip of your tongue until that ache moves elsewhere. It’s enough for now; the thought of what your next mission is and how important it is chases all other thoughts away.

San has been gone long enough.

You’ll take him back if it’s the last thing you do.

“Y/N!”

That voice tears you free of the thoughts plaguing you, and you jolt to a halt in the middle of the hallway you’re currently standing in to find the source of the voice. There’s a flash of black before you. Panic thrums in your nerves, a quick fear that you might be under attack, but then something warm hits you. It’s like a wave, washing over your insides and dispelling that fear as quickly as it appeared.

“Wooyoung,” you exhale just before your eyes settle on his bright and smiling face.

“Mingi’s back, they got Mingi back! They’re coming in the airlock now, let’s go!” Wooyoung grins from ear to ear, the smile splitting his cheeks and making his face glow with joy. You let him grab hold of your wrist without complaint, and he tugs you further down the corridor. “They said he’s okay. Healthy too. Safe. He’s safe. They healed his wound at the warehouse to prep for his treatment, but Jongho and Yeosang got to him before they could hurt him any.”

“One step closer to having to leave,” you murmur, moreso to yourself than to the man before you. He picks up on the words nonetheless, and his hurried steps slow to a dragging walking pace that has you regretting opening your mouth.

“What?” He asks. The smile falls into a deep-seated frown, and you hate it. You hate it so much. The idea of leaving them like this, even if Hongjoong swore not to let you go, you don’t see any other way for this to end peacefully. The only way for everyone involved to come out of this safe and in one piece is for you to go along with your deal with Jisung.

“Nothing,” you whisper. Wooyoung tightens his fingers around your wrist.

“No, what do you mean by that? Having to leave?”

“Oh, come on, Wooyoung,” you laugh through your teeth. “Did you think there was no cost for getting the three of you back? Let’s just go see Mingi. We don’t need to talk about this now.” You try to pull your arm free of Wooyoung’s grip to no avail. All he does is yank you back to face him when you step around his body.

“What did you do?”

“What I had to, Wooyoung. He wasn’t going — he wouldn’t have helped us find you without a price.”

“And the price was you?” Wooyoung cries, loud enough to echo off the metal around your forms. “He doesn’t get to own you, Y/N!”

“It’s not ownership. I’ll go along with him long enough to — to figure something out, then I’ll leave and—”

“And what? You think a man like that will just let you leave?”

“Look, Wooyoung, I knew what I was getting into. I agreed to it myself because I wanted to and because it was the closest thing to a guarantee of your safety, as well as San’s and Mingi’s. If this is the price for your lives, then so be it. It’s okay.”

“Like hell it is. He’ll get my fist put through his throat for even thinking about it,” Wooyoung hisses, nose scrunching up as his face contorts into a scowl. You have to bite your tongue to keep from rolling your eyes.

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Too fucking bad.” Wooyoung shoves your arm down with a huff. You don’t even have a second to breathe before he’s rushing back down the hall, continuing your path from earlier and moving so quickly that you have to jog to catch up to him.

“You’re mad at me for saving your life?” You retort to his back. It does nothing to stop him, and the only reaction you get out of him at first is the tension in his shoulders. “As I recall, you threw yourself down for San and Mingi while captured!”

“That was to fucking protect all of us! I knew what I was doing, I knew I would be safe, and I knew they couldn’t hurt me any more than I’ve hurt myself, Y/N.” Wooyoung reels on you just before turning the corner at the end of the corridor. The rage in his expression is more than you can handle, much more intense than you imagined it would be. “We may be similar — we might have pieces of our pasts that line up and mirror each other. But don’t think for a fucking second that I’m supposed to roll over and let you do what I would do. I’m stupid, I’m a fucking idiot, I’ll take whatever punishment I think I can to protect people, and I always fucking go too far. You are going too far. And I refuse to let some asshole with a god complex pretend like he has the power to own another human being. You might be okay with the idea of it, you might think it isn’t as bad as you imagine it to be, but as for me? I refuse to let you lose your freedom. I will put myself on the line any day before I let anything happen to this crew.”

Your jaw stutters dumbly as you struggle to come up with a counterattack. Wooyoung doesn’t wait for you to figure one out either; he returns to his stampede down the hall and leaves you to play catch up once more. And admittedly, by the time you do catch up, there is nothing you could possibly do to keep him from reaching his end goal. Someone opens their mouth to greet him, but you don’t even have time to process whose voice it is before they’re cut short by Wooyoung’s next move.

“Wooyo—”

Wooyoung’s knee careens into a body and hits so hard that body crumples in half. It’s only when Wooyoung threads his fingers through dark hair and yanks upwards that you catch who exactly it is. Jisung stumbles with the motions, chains rattling and shaking as he does. Wooyoung gives him only a second to catch his breath before he’s shoving Jisung face first into the metal wall.

“Hi there,” Wooyoung huffs with another tug to Jisung’s scalp. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting officially yet. You’ve been quite lucky to be in the care of such merciful people.”

“You can’t possibly be the mongrel Y/N has been so distressed about, can you?” Jisung spits over his shoulder. Wooyoung grins wide at that, cheeks pressing upwards and eyes turning to half-moons.

“No.” Another harsh shove and Jisung’s head bounces against the wall. “No, Jisung, I’m the man who is going to make you regret every second of life you’ve had if you even think about laying another finger on her.”

You tug your stare off the pair to glance around, mostly in search of Mingi, and as Wooyoung said, the Berserker does seem relatively safe and unharmed. Almost like he wasn’t even gone aside from a fading bruise on his cheekbone. He’s got one hand balled into a fist and the other tucked into the safety of Jongho’s palm. It’s not enough of a guarantee that he’s okay mentally and emotionally, but at least seeing him visibly alright is reassuring in and of itself. Yeosang stands close to Hongjoong, unmoving and staring forward at Wooyoung without trying to stop him. Hongjoong himself doesn’t do anything either, and you realize then that this is a moment of retribution for all of them in some way. Even me, you think as Jisung writhes under Wooyoung’s tightening grip.

“Get in line then,” he manages to hiss, even if it’s muffled by the wall. “These three dumbasses already left me with many colorful threats the entire way back here.”

“Oh, I will, but you should be aware that there is one person at the end of that line who will end your life in a heartbeat for even thinking you could own Y/N. And he’s about to come back to this very ship that you’re trapped on. So how about you start barking again and see what happens?”

Hongjoong finally pulls forward, and when he does, he wears a wide smile and folds his arms over his chest. He only steps forward enough to lurk just past Wooyoung’s shoulder, standing with a slight tilt so he can look at Jisung out the corner of his eye.

“Checkmate, Han. Let’s see what good your dogs can do with their king backed into a corner.”

✧✧✧ a/n: oakyoakyokayokayo so admittedly i ended up splitting this chapter up and moving the second half of it to the NEXT chapter bc yeah this one would have been over 20k if i didn’t whoopsie! but here we are lots of talking ! in this one, the action comes in the next one bc of the way i shifted things so eheheheh :3 the next might comes sooner than usual we shall see ;) as always ! let me know what u think n how u feel !

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#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #mists of celeste #mingi x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yeosang x reader #jongho x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #ateez angst fluff smut #ateez series #ateez pirates #ateez space pirates

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strangerivy · 3 years

Text

The Titan Boy

Summary: After the Scouts gain custody of Eren Yeager and Y/N witness the beating her boyfriend, Levi inflicts on him to do that something buried deep in her heart, breaks through the cracks that she and Levi must overcome to move forward. Warnings: Swearing Pairings: Levi Ackerman x Reader (y/n) Genre: 18+ | Fluff | Angst Word Count: 4.2K Author’s Note: Guys, I actually cried writing this. I hope you guys enjoy, let me know what you think! Also I can do a tag list for any Levi fics I writing if people are interest just ask!

|| Masterlist | AOT Masterlist ||

Year 850 - Summer

It was supposed to be just like any other expedition, reclaim a town that would be lost once you left. You would rechart the area taking note of what had changed and what had been found in the time that area had been abandoned all those years ago.

You stood behind Levi watching around you to make sure no titans came out of nowhere while he did his best to comfort the dying soldier. Petra glanced up at you meeting your gaze, tears slowly falling down her cheeks as she listened to Levi. You quickly looked away tensing for a moment when you saw movement but relaxed seeing it was Erwin. Everything was going okay, until this moment.

Erwin approached with a grim look on his face “Levi!” He shouted; Levi stood up turning to face the commander with a raised brow. Erwin stopped his horse just in front of us. I turned to help Petra up as she patted off the dirt from her pants.

“We’re pulling out,” Erwin announced making both you and Petra snap your heads up to look at him.

“Sir?” Petra questioned.

“What the hell I-” Levi stuck his hand out in front of you silently telling you to stop.

“What do you mean? You damn well know we can push further? My men didn’t die to pave our retreat,” Levi shot a glare up at Erwin at that last part and Erwin gave just as serious a look back, he looked between the three of us before answering.

“There’s a swarm of titans moving north, there bearing down on the city,” You sucked in a breath, and Petra’s eyes widened. Levi grimaced at the news, you were the first to move grappling back through the buildings heading towards where your horses were being watched, Levi shouting after you.

Just as Erwin had predicted, the titans had breached Trost but to your surprise, the hole had been plugged by a boy. A boy that had the ability to transform into a titan.

You couldn’t help but pace as you waited for Levi and Erwin down in the basement talking to the boy that you now knew, was named Eren. A recruit from the 104th cadet corps hadn’t even made it to selection night. He was just a kid. Hange hummed calmly leaned up against the wall Moblit right beside her as you all waited.

“What’s taking them so long,” You grumbled and Hange chuckled

“Careful Y/N, don’t get to worked up,” She warned with a cheeky grin and you rolled your eyes dragging your feet towards her falling back to leaning against the wall with an over-extracted huff. You had questions, questions you knew you could discuss with Hange but, you glanced over at the MP’s guarding the door to the basement, you didn’t want them listening in on your conversation.

The door opened and you all stood up straight as Erwin walked through followed by Levi.

“We’ll discuss the details more later, Levi,” Erwin instructed him before turning giving you a nod before heading off somewhere.

“Y/n,” You turned to look at Levi again and he motioned his head for you to follow. You said goodbye to Hange and Moblit before following Levi back to your temporary quarters while here in the interior. He held the door open for you shutting it once you both were in. You went and sat on the armchair waiting for him to inform you of what was going on.

You tapped your foot impatiently as he made you both some tea handing you yours as he sat down with his cup. You took a quick sip staring him down.

“Stop staring,”

“Levi.”

“Fine,” He set his glass down on the small table in between you both letting out a small sigh, “We are going to petition for the boy to be released into the custody of the Scouts-”

“That’s it?”

“Would you let me finish?” You sealed your lips motioning for him to continue, he shook his head taking another sip of his tea.

“He will most likely be released into my care and will become part of the squad.” You nodded your head at this information expecting it really, “There won’t be any room for error however if something goes wrong, we’ll have to put him down.” Your eyes widened as you sat back in your chair staring at the empty fireplace.

“He’s just a child,” You whispered mostly to yourself not liking the sound of this plan. Levi really expected you to be able to put down a child if it came down to it? Your frown deepened at the thought and you were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice Levi get up grabbing your empty cup from your hands.

He leaned down kissing the top of your head gently, “I need to speak with Erwin more, I’ll expect to see you in the courtroom when the time comes y/n”

Saying you were pissed was a slight understatement, shooting Daggers at the man next to you as you walked down the hall with Erwin and Hange. Erwin noticing your glare but not letting up on the conversation with Levi regarding your new Titan shifting recruit. Eren Yeager. Also, a 15-year-old boy that you just witness your boyfriend beat nearly to death with not an ounce of regret.

You didn’t really know why you were so mad, really you didn’t. But it just really really irked you. You let out a frustrated huff turning your attention back to the steps in front of you and Levi snapped his head towards you with a frown and small glare of his own.

“Will you drop the dramatics?” He ordered and being the obedient Scout you were, you didn’t listen scoffing at his words forcing an irritated growl from him stopping in his tracks Hange and Erwin stopping a few paces in front of you watching the scene play out at a safe distance. “Care to explain why the hell your acting like this?” Levi spat eyes narrowed at your back as you were turned away from him arms crossed over your chest.

You quickly snapped your head to look at him cheeks reddening from anger as you took a step closer to him. “You nearly beat him to death Levi!” your voice raised a few octaves and Levi was not a fan of that taking a step closer so you were almost nose to nose, neither of you backing down from the other.

“What the hell did you expect me to do?” He questioned you through gritted teeth “You heard Erwin, it was the right card to play.” You let out another scoff not believeing your ears. You jabbed his chest with your finger knowing what kind of button you were pushing when doing it. Hange making an ‘Ooo’ sound as you did, waiting in anticipation for your next words.

“What,” Jab “The hell,” Jab “kind of card is that, Levi? He’s 15 years old! What if he couldn’t regenerate! What if you beat him to a pulp and he couldn’t recover! You played your card on a damn WHIM!” You shouted the last part hands on your hip as you waited for his explanation. Levi was calm. To calm really at your outburst. Normally by now, he would have pulled you to a private room to have this kind of argument.

“Wow y/n, I never knew you could be so motherly,” Levi and you both froze, eyes widening at each other, cheeks turning bright red at Hange’s statement. You panicked unable to look at Levi now turning to face her and a smirking Erwin.

“Tha-that isn’t wha-t-t th-is is,” You stuttered cheeks growing redder eyes darting around the room,

“Now that you say that Hange, I have noticed that you have been quite more attentive to the children in the city than usual, y/n.” Erwin pointed out the sly smirk never leaving his face as he spoke, and you wanted to punch it right off his face your cheeks feeling as if they were on fire at this point.

“I have to go,” You huffed quickly walking away from them leaving Levi to deal with them, your argument completely forgotten. You march aimlessly down the hall with no destination in mind but to be away from them.

You ended up on a balcony overlooking the interior letting out a heavy sigh leaning back against the wall resting your head against it letting the evening sun warm your skin. You slid down the wall resting your arms on your knees once seated.

You looked up at the sky thinking back on the situation you had just escaped from trying to place why it bothered you so much. Deep down you already knew why, a longing for something more buried deep within you knowing in the world you lived now it would be impossible. You couldn’t justify bringing a child into this dark world no matter how much you craved it.

Levi and you had been together 5 years and the conversation has never come up, never really being an issue till recently when your want to be a mother started breaking through the cracks of your heart. Wet droplets hit the stone beneath you as the tears fell from your cheeks mourning the life you never could have.

Levi searched up and down the halls and rooms of HQ looking for you, growing ever the more frustrated with each empty room. Deciding to head back to your shared room to wait for you. He scolded himself knowing he should have gone after you the minute you ran off but was frozen by both Hange and Erwin’s words. Was that something you wanted? A child? A family, with him?

A scoff left his mouth at himself, of course it was what you wanted. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have reacted in such a way. He wasn’t blind, he knew something was bothering you lately, you thought you hid it well, but he could see it, he would always see. The way you spoke with the few kids that came up to you both when in uniform excitedly asking questions before expeditions. The way your smile would falter just a bit when their parents rounded them up.

His frown deepened with each memory that passed through his mind of all the signs of the secret that you held so close to you. He passed a hall pausing his step when the faint sound of a sniffle caught his interest. He turned taking light steps to you see you sitting on the ground, knees held tightly to you as you silently cried to yourself. His chest tightening at the sight.

“Y/n,” You stiffened at his voice quickly looking up at him with tear-stained cheeks, you looked away quickly wiping them away trying to pretend that he didn’t just walk in on you like this.

“Levi, I didn’t hear you,” You forced yourself to smile as you looked back up at him, his expression blank and unreadable as he stared down at you a hand slowly moving from his side to offer to you. You took it pulling yourself up and when you were almost standing his grip tightened before pulling you end to him arms wrapping around you tightly. You stared in a bit of shock not sure what to do as he held you.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered into your ear. You didn’t need to ask what about already knowing. Sorry for not being able to give you the life you craved. Sorry for this shitty world. You wrapped your arms around him gripping at his jacket as you buried your face into the curve of his neck fresh tears falling.

“Me too.”

You and Levi headed out the next morning with Eren riding silently as you met up with the rest of your squad before heading to your new temporary living situation. The old abandoned former Scouts HQ in between Hermina District and Trost District. Far enough from any towns, just in case the worst-case scenario happened.

Your grip on your reins tightened at the thought but you were quick to push it aside relaxing. Your rode next to Petra behind Oluo and Eren and Levi right behind you. Petra noticed your slight change in demeanor giving a concerned look that you shook your head to let her know it was nothing. Being the only two females in the squad you had a closer bond from the others.

Oluo was going on about how Eren shouldn’t expect a royal treatment from us despite his importance to the Scouts or Humanity in general. In a moment of attempted intimidation from Oluo, his horse hit a rock jerking him forward making him bit his tongue once again sending him screeching in pain sending you and Petra into a fit of silent giggles.

You arrived at the old HQ getting off your horse staring up at the old castle. From years of being vacant, it was overgrown with weeds and no doubt did it have a thick layer of dust all over the inside. You directed your horse towards the stables tying her up so you could clean out a stale for her. Eren walked past you, hood of his new Scouts cloak still up as he looked around at the team.

“Hello,” You greeted he jumped at the sound of your voice not noticing you, he turned to face you

“He-hello,” He greeted tying his horse up as well to get the stall next to yours cleaned out. You finished your stall untying your horse leading her in and start taking off her reins.

“I don’t believe we have formally met yet, my name's y/n,” You greeted with a soft smile, you didn’t want him to think you all were only here to be his killers if it came to it. The way you saw it, he was still a boy. Despite his gift. If that’s what you would call it.

“You’re the second-in-command, right? I- I um saw you next to the Captain at my trial.” He was shy and a bit awkward which you guessed was normal for a teenager. You finished up walking out of the stale, you shook your head going to help him.

“No, that’s Eld’s job. Levi and I have just- we’ve known each other a long time,” You informed him, and he seemed a bit shock at the information. You didn’t blame him, the way you carried yourself, and the way the others respected you it made seem as if you were the second in command, but you turned down the position when Levi offered it saying you didn’t want that kind of responsibility. Even so, the squad still treated you as such knowing about your relationship with the Captain.

“Y/n,” You looked up seeing Levi not too far off from you, he stared at you before looking over at Eren and then back to you “We have some cleaning to do, you too Eren,” You nodded falling after him into the castle.

After a long day of cleaning and organizing and getting rooms ready, you all sat at one of the tables drinking some tea that Levi made in the old dining room. You silently took a sip avoiding Levi’s gaze on you ever so often. You hadn’t really spoken much since he found you crying. Not ready to talk about what never could be, but he waited as patiently as he could.

You set your cup down leaning back in your chair relaxing a bit. You stretched out one of your legs ready for when you could take the straps off.

“It’s safe to assume our orders will stretch into next week but word through the grapevine is we’re gearing up for a big mission a month from now,” Eld informed your ears perking up a curious glance over at Levi through the corner of your eye, “One where a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears graduates are slated to be our main backup.” Levi noticed your stare shooting you a look to tell you that the two of you would speak later about it.

“Well, that can’t be right,” Gunther spoke up now and you turned your attention to him “why do something like that? The cadets have been through enough with the last Titan attack. Why subject them to that kind of danger again?”

“Perhaps the uppers feel that since they have had their exposure that they can handle a mission right out of the gate,” You spoke up attention turning to you as you spoke, “We all know the ones that survived have the skill at least,” You took another sip of tea.

“You have to wonder how many of those snivel-drop runts peed themselves,” You smirked into your cup at Eld’s words knowing full well that he was one of those Cadet’s not long ago.

“Surely this can’t be the case?” Petra turned to Levi in disbelief at the news. Levi sat relaxed in his chair one arm resting against the back of the chair the other on the table.

“Mission planning is my responsibility, but it is Erwin’s. And you can bet the man has obsessed over every angle.” Levi answered and you nodded in agreement. Eld rested his arms on the table his hands held together as he rests his chin on them.

“Well, that’s the truth,” He responded, confirming Levi’s statement “Especially given how unique the situation is. Considering how many people died on the path to taking back Wall Maria, then hope comes in a form no one expected.” Eld shifted his gaze to Eren “One we’re not even really entirely sure on how to deal with,” Eren visibly tensed as the gaze of the whole squad turned to him.

“Eld,” You warned a sudden sense of protectiveness running through you and Levi was quick to notice.

“Y/n,” Levi warned you and sunk back in your chair arms crossed as you stared at the ground.

“Most of us still find it hard to believe,” Eld continued “So, how does it work? This whole changing into a Titan trick. Really?”

“Wish I could tell you, but the fact is my memory’s not clear, guess it’s kind of like being a trance. I do know the trigger seems to be hurting myself in some way. Like biting my hand.” Eren held his hand up staring at it as the others all looked at him wanting more answers than they were going to get out of him.

“You’re not going to get anything out of him. Apart from what the scribblers have laid out in the reports,” Levi grabbed a hold of his cup letting out a hum,” Not that you-know-who won’t have a go at it.” This brought a smile to your face as he spoke about Hange as if saying her name would summon her from thin air. “You’ll be lucky to come out of it alive if that one lays into you, course it's only a matter of time.”

Eren got visibly nervous at Levi’s words looking over at you who tried to suppress the grin on your face. “I’m honestly surprised they aren’t here yet, I expected them hours ago,” You played along with Levi’s game of teasing Eren seeing it as harmless knowing full well Hange would never really put Eren in any true danger if she could help it.

“Who’re you talking about?” Eren asked leaning forward and as if on queue a loud bang hit the door behind you with a loud shout of pain behind it, Petra getting up to remove the wooden bar that kept it locked.

Hange walked in holding her forehead and you couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped your lips.

“I’m so sorry. Good evening, Team Levi!” She greeted walking into the room, Levi looking both annoyed and unsurprised by her “How is castle life treating you all?”

“You’re too early.” Levi complained and Hange smirked at him walking over to the empty seat across from you.

“Am I? S’pose I couldn’t help myself.” She joked and you smiled over at her

“Well, I say you are late, what took you so long?” You asked finishing off your tea.

“Ah you know, paperwork this and paperwork that,” You nodded knowing the feeling, Eren stared at Hange a bit confused as to why she was here.

“Section commander Hange?” He questioned and Hange turned her attention to him

“Hello Eren,” she greeted “In the event, you haven’t pieced it together yet, it's my job to spearhead the Scout Regiments research efforts. Essentially, I poke and prod our captive Titan specimens. I’d very much like your help.”

“My help? In what way? Like what would I have to do?” Eren questioned obviously not sure on how he could help himself

“Join me, of course!” Hange was getting excited her voice raising a little “On a quest of scientific discovery!”

Eren leaned back getting more nervous as Hange went on “Well, uh… I’m happy to help, except it's not up to me. I’m on strict restriction by order of the higher-ups you see,” Hange smiles looking over at Levi.

“Levi! What's on the docket for him tomorrow?” She asked excitedly looking over at the Captain

“Clearing out all the weeds.” He answered unamused

“Excellent, then! It’s cinched!” Hange leaned down to Eren grabbing a hold of his hand “Young man, tomorrow will be grand.”

“Hange calm down, you're going to scare the poor boy,” You pointed out and Hange nodded relaxing just a bit and Eren shot you a quick look of thanks before turning back Hange.

“Uh, okay but just so I’m clear, what exactly will I be doing?” He asked and Hange hummed letting him know to continue his question “Are you running experiments or something?”

“Idiot. Shut Up,” Oluo whispered head resting on his hand

Hange sighed looking over at Eren overjoyed by his question “Ahh I knew it! You possess a singularly curious mind, don’t you?”

You let out a sigh pushing your way up as did the rest of the squad not wanting to stick around for what was going to be a long night of Hange go over her experiments with Eren.

“Hange,” You started, and she gave a hum to let you know she was listening “Let him get some sleep tonight, yeah?”

“I can’t promise anything, y/n! You know that!” She beamed and you shook your head following Levi out the door that he was waiting for you by. The walk back to your quarters was quiet as you walked next to each other, he opened the door once you arrived and shut it once you were in. You walked over to the bed sitting down on it with a sigh of relief ready to take off your uniform for the night.

You pulled your shoes off, setting them neatly next to the bed, and started to unbuckle your straps when Levi walked over smacking your hands away to do it himself. You looked up at him curiously noticing a very faint blush on his cheeks.

“We need to talk about this, y/n.” He pushed and you let out a heavy sigh starting to pick at your fingers as he gently removed the belts from around you, he tugged at one that signaled for you to stand up and you did, your chest pressing against his as you did from how close he was standing to you. You felt his breath on your cheek but didn’t want to turn your head knowing if you did you would break down again.

“I know your smart, so I know that you are aware that we can’t fulfill that dream of yours, and I- I don’t know if we ever will,” He started, you bit your lip as you tried your best to hold back tears. The last buckle coming undone sent your straps falling to the floor and Levi sighed grabbing your chin gently to turn you to look at him. “the is one thing though I am willing to do for you, one thing I’ve always intended to do with you,” He walked over to the dresser in the room digging through one of the drawers as you back down on the bed staring at him curiously something grasped in his hand as he turned back to face you.

“I know I am not good at expressing my love for you,” He walked back over kneeling down to your level grabbing a hold of your hand, “and perhaps I waited far longer than I intended to do this but the timing never felt right.” He reached up cupping your cheek leaning in for a kiss and when he parted he opened up his hand to reveal a simple silver band, the one you actually saw a few years prior. You looked up at him with wide eyes recognizing the piece of jewelry and he smirked knowing how confused you were.

“I bought it when you went to get those pastries for lunch,” He admitted to you

“That day was two years ago, you’ve held onto it all this time?” You asked in disbelief, he nodded shyly.

“I- I can’t give you children y/n, not when the world is so fucked up but-but I do want to marry you if that can be enough?” The tears flowed freely down your cheeks as your lips spread into a smile nodding your head. It would be enough, as long as Levi was there. He would always be enough.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #LEVI ACKERMAN #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman attack on titan #levi #Captain Levi #levi attack on titan #levi aot #captain levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction

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weelittleweasley · 3 years

Text

cant take my eyes off of you (g.w.)

prompt: george feels like he’s on top of the world when he’s with you and he needs to let you know how he feels.

pairing: george weasley x fem! gryffindor reader

warnings: underage drinking, intoxication, dirty dancing, sexual references (blink and you’ll miss it), language

word count: 2.7k

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdricreads @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog @kaseyrose96-blog @hufflepuff5972 @gryffindcrghost @wand3ringr0s3 @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley

It wouldn’t be a common room victory celebration without a surplus of various booze, music loud enough to shatter your ear drum, and random students scattered around dancing and screaming to the music. It was a sensory overload at its finest, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. The quidditch victory was well earned against Hufflepuff and the team wanted to celebrate properly. This ultimately translated to getting absolutely hammered before 10pm.

You stood in the corner of the room, standing next to Hermione and Ginny, sipping on whatever drink Lee had poured you. To be honest, you couldn’t make out what it was; it was a cocktail of miscellaneous liquors that would be sure to have you regretting this decision in the morning.

As you sipped on your beverage, you turned to your two friends and gave them a sneaky smile as the music gets turned up even louder. “Oh, no,” Hermione started. “Don’t give me that look.”

“What? I just want to dance,” you start to back up towards the dance floor, pulling Ginny along with you as she laughs. “Come on, Granger! Loosen up!”

You and Ginny immediately start to break out into dance, swinging your hips to the music as Ginny chugs the rest of the drink in her cup, you following suit. The liquor is sweet, but burns your throat and warms your chest. When you finish it, you throw your cup to the ground and give into the pulsating base. Ginny laughs as you throw your hands in the air and scream sing the lyrics to the song. It was nice to finally loosen up after a long week.

But you halt your dancing when you feel two arms wrap around your waist, lip attaching themselves to your neck. You immediately flip around to see your George staring back at you, a drunk smile on his lips as a low chuckle fall from his mouth. “You scared me,” you place a hand on your chest before leaning into him, his arms pulling close against his chest.

George’s goofy grin remains on his face as he ducks his head down to press a kiss to your lips. His lips taste of whiskey, his kiss intoxicating you better than the alcohol. George mumbles against your lips, “Figured I’d join you on the dance floor.” He smiles before kissing you again, you smiling and shaking your head, his lips kissing yours against, harder as you place your hand on the back of his neck, drawing him closer to you. The bass of the music pounded through the floor and shook your core as your heart beat faster as George continued to kiss you on the dance floor. Any memory of what you were doing before George came along slipped out of your mind and all you could focus on was the way his body moved against yours as he kissed you.

His hands are gripping your hips as you pull away, hips moving against each other in sync, a smirk on George’s lips. Your faces are inches apart as you giggle, pressed against each other in a sea of bodies on the dance floor. People around you wolf whistled as you danced against George, his eyes not daring to leave yours for a moment. You pressed your backside against George, grinding yourself on him with a cheeky smirk. It was enough to drive George absolutely mad, the look of your body pressed against his, your body feeling the music, rocking against him. It was making his pulse quicken and his face heat up.

He spun you back around to look him in the eyes, a challenging grin on your lips when you saw the lust in his eyes, only being amplified by the alcohol coursing through his veins. “You are trouble,” George tells you with a laugh in his voice, making you bite down on your bottom lip, pulling the soft flesh in between your teeth. George looked unreal in this moment; his chocolate eyes dark with desire, hair messy from running his fingers through it, t-shirt clinging to every muscle on his arms, chest, and torso. Oh, the things you would do if you were alone.

Daring to make him sweat even more, you pull him down so you can whisper in his ear. “What are you gonna do about it? Punish me?” you ask, tease laced in your voice, before you nibble on his ear gently, causing him to hold back a deep groan. With one hand on his chest, you push him away, giving him the most innocent look you can, big doe eyes that plead naiveté. George shakes his head as he presses his tongue to his cheek, knowing damn well what you were doing. “I’m getting another drink, I’ll be back,” you tell him with a wink. “Don’t go anywhere.”

George just laughs, “Oh, I’m stay right where the fuck I am.” You shake your head and laugh before leaving the dance floor, back to the table where all the liquor was lined up.

Mixed bottles half full scattered around the table as people crowded around as Ron stood on a chair, his Gryffindor tied around his head as he held up a bottle of fire whiskey, pouring the liquor into people’s mouth as they opened them. The sight was enough to make you laugh; Ron Weasley, assuming his brothers’ old positions of bartender. He locked eyes with you and an excited grin appeared on his lips. He held up the bottle as if to say, You want some? to which you stepped forward, titled your head back, and opened your mouth, Ron pouring one, two, three shots worth of whiskey in your mouth. You swallowed and shuddered at the taste, making Ron laugh out loud. “Bollocks, (Y/N),” he laughed out. Ron handed the bottle off to Dean and hopped off the chair, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you walked away from the mass of people wanting a shot. “I saw you and my brother having a good time on the dance floor,” he winked at you as you rolled your eyes. “He’s bloody whipped for you.”

You and Ron stood at the sidelines, watching George spin Ginny around on the dance floor, goofy smiles on both of their faces before Fred ran over and nearly tackled Ginny as she laughed. George looked over to where you stood with his younger brother and smiled softly. He dropped his left eye in a wink as your heart fluttered with glee. That boy would be the death of you.

The two of you hadn’t been together long, maybe three months, but it was quite obvious that George was mad for you. Ron had that much right. George had been infatuated with you for awhile and had been trying to get you to go out with him for months before you said yes. You knew that George had no problem getting dates with girls, but you wanted to make him sweat. Even though you found him insanely attractive and funny and sweet, you pretended like you had no interest in him. You made him work for your first date and work he did. After you said yes to being his girlfriend, George was on cloud nine. No one had ever seen George react like this to anything, but that’s how people knew you were special.

You sighed and looked at Ron, “He’s everything I could ever ask for.” Ron faked gagging as you slapped his arm. But it was all so true. George was a dream come true; you couldn’t believe how perfect he was. He was funny and outgoing and exciting, but also so kind and gentle and thoughtful. George was everything you’ve ever wanted and more. “Hey, you brought it up, don’t blame me!” you pointed a finger in his face as Ron laughed, the two of you continuing to chat and drink, watching the bodies on the floor dance away.

George still remained on the dance floor with his twin and Ginny, laughing and dancing and goofing off. Every once in a while George would look over and watch you, how you spoke to his brother, catching George’s eye every once in a while, you smiling gently at him before going back to Ron. George observed how you spoke with your hands, throwing your head back when you laughed, clutching your sides. He watched as you pulled your glossed lips in between your teeth, nibbling on the sensitive skin. He adored the way your mouth moved when you spoke, the words rolling off your lips like the sweetest honey. Without even realizing what he was saying, he just spoke out to his siblings, “I love her.”

Ginny and Fred abruptly stopped dancing and stared at their brother, faces twisted with both shock and confusion. He was surely drunk and just talking out of his ass, right? George had never confessed to loving a girl before. Fred looks at George and speaks, “Mate, what?”

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. There was a magnetic force that just made George want to stare at you forever and always. The sight of you left him weak, unable to speak. George couldn’t compare you to anyone else; in his eyes, you were the only one. The standard. And he couldn’t believe you were all his. He thanked his lucky stars that he was alive and attended this damned school at the same time you did. “It’s just...she’s just too good to be true, isn’t she?” George sighs, all lovesick. In his mind, he thought of holding you in his arm, feeling like he was in heaven at the touch. Knowing that he was the one who could make you happy and make you feel loved was a dream come true for him. George Weasley was undeniably in love and he fell hard.

“He’s gone soft,” Fred looks at Ginny who slaps his arm. “Ow! Fuck was what for?” he rubs his arm with a hurt look on his face.

Ginny looks at George who’s eyes have not left you. She looks at George with a small smile; seeing her brother so smitten was heart warming to the youngest Weasley. “Are you...going to tell her?” she asks over the music.

George breaks his stare from you and looks to Ginny. “Should I tell her now?” he asks as Ginny worriedly looks to Fred for advice, but he just shrugs. He didn’t know the first thing when it came to a confession this grand. “I don’t want to wait any longer, but I don’t want to do it in the middle of a fucking party,” he starts to ramble. “But, Merlin, I can’t wait anymore. Should I run outside and go pick flowers from the courtyard? Or should I do a grand romantic gesture here?” he continues to ramble on as Ginny’s eyes just widen more and more with each sentence.

But before George can continue listing off ways to confess his love, you appear behind him and grab his hand. George turns around and the sight of you almost makes him faint. You sport a happy smile as you look at Fred and Ginny before turning to George and saying, “You wanna go get some fresh air outside?”

Perfect, George thinks to himself. He doesn’t bother excusing himself from the dance floor. George simply holds your hand tighter and runs off with you as you laugh, calling out a We’ll be back soon! to Fred and Ginny. “Or not!” George calls back before leaving the common room, running down the moving staircase, both of you a laughing, tipsy mess.

When you finally make it down the stairs and outside, you take a deep breath in, enjoying the cool, crisp air and how it didn’t smell of alcohol and sweat like the common room. You walk further into the courtyard, happily sighing as George wraps his arms around you as you giggle, looking up at him. He places a gentle kiss to your lips as you smile. “Hi, Georgie,” you coo up at him. Just the sound of your voice make him feel warm inside.

Breathlessly, he speaks, “Hey, gorgeous.” You can’t help, but let a large smile appear on your face as your cheeks feel hot. The two of you continue to walk, hand in hand, enjoying the others company and the silence and still of the night.

But inside George’s mind, he was screaming at himself to tell you about how he was feeling and how he couldn’t go another second without telling you how much he loved you. But every time he opened his mouth, the moment didn’t feel right. He wanted this moment to memorable. Something the two of you could look back on fondly. But George was nearly about to blurt it out if he didn’t tell you soon.

“George? Baby, are you alright?” you interrupt his thoughts, placing a hand on his cheek. He seemed so consumed with thought and it worried you that something was bothering him.

He shook his head and spoke, “Perfectly alright, my darling.” You smiled up at him before walking over to the bunch of roses that bloomed in the corner of the courtyard. You examined the bush for the perfect one and stumbled upon a fully blossomed yellow rose. Quickly, you plucked it from the bush and skipped back over to George, tucking the beautiful bud behind his ear, making the tall boy in front of you blush a wild shade of red. “You look adorable.”

George’s heart was beating so hard in his chest, you could mistake it for a heart attack. Now was the time. It was now or never. Without further hesitant, George just looks at you and lets the words flow out of his mouth. “I love you, baby,” he speaks, simply.

Although the words were so simple, it all meant so much. When the words fell from his mouth, your heart stops and you feel like this is some sort of dream. Your eyes widen as you look up at George who is smiling like a child on Christmas. The look of love in his eyes was enough to make you reciprocate the same goofy grin and giggle.

George starts, “I love you, (Y/N). Trust in me when I say this. I love you so much. And if it’s alright, I need you. I need you to warm the lonely nights. I need to show you how much you mean to me. Godric, now that I’ve found you and I found love with you, I can’t help but want to spend the rest of my days with you.” His words make tears form in your eyes as love makes your heart swell in your ribcage. “All I want to do is love you. So, let me love you, baby.”

With a breathy giggle, you grab his face and press your lips to George’s, mustering up all the love you had in your body. George is smiling widely into the kiss as you laugh, “I love you.” In between kisses, you keep repeating those special three words to him, only making the boy happier and happier. With one final kiss, you pull away and wrap your arms around him, beaming. “I love you, George. All I want to do is love you.”

He could barely believe that you felt the same way about him. What you had, this love, was real and you felt the same way that he felt. This was everything George could ever want and more. He shakes his head in disbelief, holding your hands in his, as he looks up to the sky and breathes out, “Holy fuck,” making you laugh.

All of a sudden, George jumps up on a bench in the courtyard and yells out, “I love (Y/N)! And she loves me!” You try to shush him, knowing damn well you weren’t supposed to be out of your dormitories at this time of night. “I don’t care! I don’t care who hears me! I’m in love! And she loves me back!” he cries before jumping down and scooping you in his arms, spinning you around as you both laugh wildly. You were in love.

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plant-flwrs · 4 years

Text

house unity // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: this story has taken me so long and i feel like i’ve poured my blood, sweat, and tears into it. i love it a lot and you can really tell what i was watching/ doing in each sections lol. for example, the dramatic ending is courtesy of the heart wrenching sylvia plath poems i was reading earlier today lol :’) also i made the reader a ravenclaw because im a ravenclaw and i felt like it hehe. n e way! hope you all like it and pls leave feedback if you have any! like, rb, follow <3

summary: Fred Weasley and you have a bit of a love hate relationship, however, on Fred’s behalf its more love than hate. Dating a Ravenclaw would be a great stride in house unity, wouldn’t it?

(disclaimer: when i describe the differences in the twins i mean the actors! especially since she who shall not be named did not give us much about their physical differences >:/ i found the info from fandom.com so it may be wrong, but i went with it. also, i made up a few things for this story, like the annual Christmas ball)

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You wished you could enjoy some things as easily as your peers could.

You didn’t like most sweets from Honeydukes, you didn’t care for Quidditch, but you especially hated the Weasley twin’s pranks.

In your first year, just weeks after arriving at Hogwarts, you had met Fred and George. You had been unable to answer the riddle to enter the Ravenclaw common room, so you decided to take a walk around the grounds.

You just turned the corner to the courtyard, when a hard snowball hit you square in the face. The sheer force of it made you stumble backyards, and you barely had time to wipe the snow off your face before another one hit you hard in the back. You were unable to keep your balance and tumbled forwards. Your hands braced your fall and scraped against the rough stone harshly. Your palms stained the snow red as they began to bleed. You barely had time to nurse them before another snowball, this time the size of a Quaffle, plummeted onto your head. It pushed you face-first into the snow, and you recovered quicker, not wanting to stay there for any longer. You whirled around, looking for anyone who could have seen who did that. You saw two boys with flaming red hair running away, and you followed them.

You caught them just before they entered the castle, all three of you winded. They were twins.

“Did you see who did that? Was it you?” you had pried, and both of them looked giddy.

“What’d you mean?” the shorter of the two answered immaturely.

The other looked down at your hands and robes, seeing blood still flowing from your palms, and your stained tights. He glanced at his brother, who was still laughing about it all and shoved his shoulder.

“You git,” he mumbled to his brother, “she’s bleeding,” he took your hands in his and tried to wipe some of the blood off, only for it to stain the sleeves of his sweater.

“Oh, gross!” the shorter one exclaimed, backing away from the two of you.

“How did you two do that?” you asked, pulling your hands away from the kinder one.

“Bewitched ‘em,” the short one said arrogantly before his brother could stop him.

“You bewitched them to attack me?” you felt tears stinging your eyes and hoped the taller one wouldn’t notice that too.

“Well, we didn’t mean ‘em to go after you,” the kind one said quickly, trying to rub the blood out of his shirt.

“Yeah, but it was still a laugh,” the shorter one said, nudging his brother’s shoulder good spiritedly.

“Shut up, Fred,” he mumbled, obviously annoyed, “we’re sorry about your hands, we didn’t mean for it to happen, honest.”

Fred watched you silently as you swallowed hard, only able to nod at them, accepting the boys’ apology. You turned on your heal and went to the infirmary, hoping Madam Pomfrey could mend your cuts. You had wiped your tears all the way there.

In your third year, you had been told there would be a Christmas ball. You had been stuffed in a large room with the Gryffindors, and you bumped shoulder to shoulder with a boy who had long dreadlocks.

Professor McGonagall and Flitwick stood in the center of the room, a large record player was next to them.

“As some of you may know, there is an annual Christmas Ball here at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall explained, looking sharply at the Gryffindors.

“Professor McGonagall and I have a tradition,” Flitwick said, casting a glance at the Ravenclaws, “of holding a class on how to dance properly at these events.”

“Think of it as charity,” McGonagall said devilishly, “we wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourselves.”

Flitwick stifled a laugh and moved his wand to turn on the music. Loud, old-sounding music blared from the ancient device and you looked confused at your teachers.

“Everyone, pair up!”

An awkward haze fell over the room of third years. None of you knew how to talk to the opposite sex, let alone dance with them. You turned to look around you, accidentally making eye contact with the Gryffindor boy with dreads. His eyes widened when they saw yours, and his friends behind you noticed. You looked at his friends, only to see Fred and George Weasley. You rolled your eyes at the two, but their friend was jolted forwards.

He bumped into you, Fred having pushed him lightly on the back.

“Go on Lee!” Fred shouted, laughing loudly.

People were moving to the center of the room in pairs, and Lee looked at you nervously. He held his hand out to you.

“Want to dance?” He asked you shyly.

You took his hand with worry, nervous about the wicked grin the twins had. That grin always worried you.

You let Lee lead you out to the floor, falling in line with everyone else. You both watched McGonagall looking around for a partner for her to demonstrate with.

Fred’s obnoxious laugh cut through the room, and her eyes landed on him.

“Perfect! Mr. Weasley, come be my partner.”

He groaned and moved forwards, his brother laughing loudly. Beside you, Lee had a wide smile.

“Place your hand on my waist,” she said flatly.

“Your what?” he repeated, his eyes going wide.

“My waist, don’t be daft,” she replied, moving his hand to the right place.

It seemed everyone’s cheeks had gone red due to stifled laughter. Lee bumped into you as he doubled over, not trying to contain himself.

In your fifth year, you were made a prefect.

You were hesitant to accept the position, feeling a bit tied down by the prat status that came with the responsibility.

Wearing your slightly dusted badge, you had never polished it like you saw Percy doing every second of his life, you led a group of Ravenclaw first years up the stairs.

“Right this way,” you shouted over their heads, making sure no one got lost.

“Who had the sense to make you a prefect?” Fred taunted, coming up from behind you and flicking your ear.

You moved to swat his hand away, but he had already jumped back.

“Shove off, Fred,” you shot him a glare and turned back to the children, “the stairs can get a bit confusing, so watch your step!”

Fred watched you admirably, noticing the way your voice changed to a sweet sound when you spoke to anyone but him.

“Yeah, watch the stairs!” Fred shouted, pulling you by your elbow onto a new staircase.

The steps moved away from the first years, taking you and Fred to the opposite corridor you wanted to go down. You looked down and realized how close you were to the edge. Without thinking, you grabbed onto Fred’s robes, pulling him closer to you. He tilted forward and nearly lost his balance, which would have sent you both down. He flung his hand out and firmly held onto the railing, suspending the both of you over the edge for a moment before he pulled you back up. You were close to his chest, still holding onto him until the stairs stopped moving. You hadn’t meant to close your eyes, but when you finally opened them you saw your group of first-years looking at you from the other staircase, seeming absolutely terrified.

You leaped from Fred’s embrace, sending him stumbling back a bit. You marched up the stairs to loop back to the first years and heard Fred calling after you.

“Going so soon?” you heard his laugh echoing off the walls of the room.

For most of your life, your interactions with Fred Weasley were that simple. Maybe once a year you two would spit some insults at the other, and be on your way, not to speak to each other until next year.

However, when you walked into your Transfiguration class, late by a few minutes due to your prefect duties, you felt a punch in the gut when you saw flaming red hair.

The punch in the gut was increased tenfold when you saw that the only empty seat was next to the flaming red hair.

Breathing deeply and sending a fake smile his way, you sat uncomfortably next to Fred.

It would have been difficult to tell them apart, but your observant eye had always been able to. Besides a few odd growth spurts they were prone to, George usually came out the taller of the two. Fred also had a small scar on his left eyebrow.

“Oh hello, prefect,” Fred said lazily, drawing back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head.

The bottom of his shirt rose a little and you willed your eyes to not look at the toned bit of stomach that peeked through.

“Weasley,” you said, pulling your textbook out of your bag.

“Looking forward to your new prat duties?”

“More than I’m looking forward to sitting with you,” you pushed your hair behind your ear and out of your eyes, Fred stared at the side of your face.

“Always so charming,” he finally drawled, leaning forwards and tugging his sweater down.

Something about Fred always made you want the last word, the last laugh.

“Only for you, Fred.”

In professor McGonagall’s opinion, Fred Weasley had the littlest appreciation for time of all the students she had taught.

He wasted his time in the common room, in the Great Hall, and in the hallways.

Even during her Transfiguration class.

He was happy to spend his time with what he thought was shamelessly flirting with you, and McGonagall was happy to embarrass him while he did it.

“Mister Weasley?”

Fred turned to look at McGonagall’s severe face. Before he could say any excuse, insisting that you were talking too, she waved her wand at his desk. His book flew open to the right page, and a force that was not his own was pushing his head into the book. His hair fell in front of his face, and you could tell he was fighting against the spell McGonagall was using.

Fred seemed to be tamed by McGonagall after that and didn’t bother you for the rest of the class. On the way out, he held the door open for you. He called out to you in the hallway.

“Good luck with that weird rash, Y/n!” you felt your cheeks burn furiously as laughs sounded off in the hallway. You turned to see Fred watching you walk away, and lifted both of your middle fingers in the air to him.

“So classy!” he called back.

“Shove! OFF!” you yelled, shouting over the now deafening laughter in the hallway.

You were already dreading the upcoming months.

You were right to, for class with Fred did not get any easier.

You traded your thin tights for thicker ones and your light dress shirt for a heavy sweater. Your blue scarf was wrapped tightly around your neck, and you didn’t bother to pin your prefect badge on it these days.

“Miss, y/l/n, you must remember your badge,” McGonagall said as you came into class.

You looked down at your scarf, patting your robes until you felt the metal. Lifting up your scarf and showing the professor the badge underneath it, you gave her a reassuring smile.

She nodded approvingly and waved her hand, you moved to your seat.

Before you could put your things down, Fred was looking at you. You could hear the gears turning in his head, thinking of something presumably rude to say to you.

“Weasley,” you said first, hoping this would inspire him to stop looking at you.

He blinked at you, before smiling and turning back to his textbook.

“Today, we’re going to be learning a vanishing spell,” McGonagall started.

You had already turned to the page before she told it to you, you had read through the entire textbook over the summer.

You heard Fred scoff next to you, but ignored him.

Looking down at the directions in the book, you had remembered your successful attempt at making one of your father’s shoes disappear. He had been so proud of you, he didn’t care that he only had one brown Oxford instead of two.

“How did you do that?” Fred asked, watching as you easily made the rat in front of you vanish.

“Practice,” you said absently, turning your head to look back into the textbook.

Fred began to try the spell himself, his focus on the goblet he had taken from the great hall. He did the right wand movements, but his pronunciation was all wrong. You watched as the spell rebounded off the goblet and hit his tie, making the bottom half of it vanish. His hand flew to his chest, his mouth curved in a disbelieving grin when he didn’t feel the point of his tie.

“Well, bloody hell, that could have been much worse,” he gasped out, pushing his hair off his face and leaning back in his chair.

You couldn’t help the small nervous laugh that escaped your lips, but you were able to stifle it quickly. Fred had noticed your smile and glanced at you, happy to amuse you.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Fred regaining his composure after nearly vanishing himself. You pretended to read your book, but you had already read the page dozens of times. You wanted an excuse to not talk to Fred.

“Ever going to turn the page?” Fred asked from beside you, and you became very aware of his eyes on the side of your face.

“I’m absorbing the information,” you replied flatly, keeping your head in the book to hide your blush.

He laughed, sitting straight in his seat. He seemed to be attempting the spell again. You bit your lip as you watched him practice, wondering if you should correct him so he doesn’t hurt himself.

He had just begun to say the spell when you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait!” he glanced at you and your hand on his shoulder, smirking at you.

“Yes, darling?”

You rolled your eyes and felt the urge to gag. Your face crinkled in disgust and Fred smiled.

“Your pronunciation is wrong.”

“Well go on then,” he said, urging you to continue.

“Evanesco,” you said simply, but Fred’s eyes wrinkled in confusion.

“That’s what I’m saying,” he said, turning back to the goblet but lowering his wand, “Evenesco.”

He had replaced the ‘a’ with an ‘e’ sound, but he hadn’t heard it, you supposed.

“It’s ev-an-es-co,” you said slowly, placing your pronunciation on the ‘an’, “you’re saying ev-en-es-co.”

His eyebrows raised, finally understanding. He repeated it to you slowly, and you nodded your head when he said it right.

He smiled confidently, casting the spell on his goblet. The goblet turned foggy, and Fred could wave his hand through it like it was a ghost.

He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“This is miserable,” he groaned.

You waved your wand and said the verbal part of the spell, finishing off the goblet. It completely disappeared and Fred let out another groan, rolling his head back in annoyance.

“You’re miserable,” he said to you teasingly.

You looked at him through your lashes, your brows furrowed, “Whatever, Fred,” your face grimaced in annoyance, “I’m just trying to help, your welcome, by the way.”

You pulled your bag onto your lap and began to pack up your books.

Fred let out a sigh like he was going to say something. You turned to him, but he merely shook his head.

“Forget it,” he said, seeming to be at a loss of words.

You stood from your seat the second McGonagall dismissed class, leaving Fred at your shared desk.

“She’s totally into me!”

“She hates your guts, mate,” George said, pulling his lips into a thin-lined sympathy smile.

Fred scoffed and shook his head, his long hair falling over his forehead.

“You don’t get it,” he pressed, determined to make George see.

“She looks like she wants to throw herself into the Forbidden Forest every time she sees you,” George replied, determined to stop his brother from future heartbreak.

“Whatever, just you watch,” Fred said, tossing his Quidditch broom from hand to hand and looking at the massive stands above them, empty for the practice, “in a few weeks she’ll be in one of those seats, cheering me on.”

“He’s lost it,” Harry mumbled to George as he walked past, baffled by Fred’s dazed look.

George nodded hastily, following Harry away from his lovesick brother.

Fred was not often detoured by anyone’s cautionary guidance, so the endless warnings from George slid off his ego like melted butter.

Fred had spent so much time in the last Quidditch match with his eyes glued to the Ravenclaw student section, looking for you, that he had barely hit any bludgers the entire game. Oliver had some tasteful words for him in the changing rooms, but it was no worse than his mother’s screaming.

You were not at the Quidditch match, you never were. You had always used the advantage of the empty castle to go to the kitchens. The elves were the only ones left there, and you liked talking with them. Some times Luna would join you.

It seemed you and Fred were going opposite directions while searching for each other at the same time.

No matter how many cookies Dobby shoved towards you and Luna, you could not get Fred out of your head.

You thought about his arms wrapped around you on the stairs, you thought about the way he could always make your cheeks burn, and you thought of the way his eyes poured into your face like it was the only thing he’d ever seen. You hated him. He was rude, arrogant, and annoying. He ran around your head constantly.

McGonagall had some choice words for Fred that night after the match. The sulking from the loss had been toned down, but the hushed sounds of Oliver’s feet pounding against the floor in his bedroom could be heard all the way from the common room.

“Where is Wood?” she burst through the portrait hole, still in her robes she wore to the match.

“He’s upstairs, why?” Harry replied, looking nervous.

“I need to have a word with him,” she cast a glance at Fred, “and his methods of training his beaters.”

Fred and George both shot from where they sat on the couch.

“What?” George yelled.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Mister Weasley,” she squinted at them, “whichever one of you was looking around at the Rave-” she stopped before she could finish her sentence as if she had an epiphany.

Her pursed lips twisted into an evil looking smile.

“You know, Mister Weasley,” she took a step towards the boys and spoke to them only, “dating a Ravenclaw would show great strides in house unity,” Fred’s eyes bulged out of his head and George was already turning pink with laughter, “perhaps then you could focus on Quidditch again.”

George was nearly purple due to lack of air, and Harry’s mouth was agape in shock as McGonagall whisked her robes and swiftly climbed back out of the portrait hole.

“What is she on about?” Harry asked George.

Fred flopped onto the couch and covered his face with his hands. His life was over. If McGonagall could catch onto something like that, couldn’t you? You hadn’t started to flirt back, and Fred was beginning to wonder if George was right about your feelings towards him.

Soon enough, George was spouting everything McGonagall had said before he could catch his breath. He told anyone in the common room how much you hated Fred, and how much he desperately fancied you. Fred figured there was no use to stop him, because once again, if McGonagall could catch on, couldn’t everyone else?

Sunday morning was always rough for you. You pulled your heavy quilt closer to your cold cheeks, hoping for the sun to go back down and the weekend to restart. It never did.

You slipped on a pair of jeans and a tight turtle neck. Still feeling the cold air of the castle seeping through, you pulled on a sweater over the turtle neck. You tugged on some wool socks and pulled the fabric of the shirt as high up your neck as it would go.

You and Luna had plans to go to Hagrid’s hut today, he had promised her some magical flower seeds he had found in his garden. You liked to spend time with Luna, she was an easing presence and you always knew how to talk to her, even if most people didn’t.

You clutched an old muggle novel to your chest, hoping to trap some of your body heat. The hallways were surprisingly crowded for a Sunday morning, and you glanced at your watch, seeing breakfast had just ended.

You noticed that a lot of students with red ties were looking at you oddly. They would see you and smile widely, as if you were a new friend to them. You kept your head down until you met Luna in front of the great hall.

“Did you hear the news?” she asked before she even greeted you.

“What?”

“I just saw Harry, he said McGonagall told Fred to ask you out.”

You laughed, expecting her to do so as well. She didn’t and her face stayed stoic. She began to walk outside.

You were locked into place for a second before you jumped into line with her.

“What?” you repeated.

“Harry told me-” she began, but you waved your hands, cutting her off.

“No, I heard you, but what do you mean? What did McGonagall say?”

Luna had to have finally gone loony.

“He told me that after they lost Quidditch yesterday, she came in looking for Fred, she said he was quite distracted during the match,” she said, looking dreamily at you, “and she said something about how dating a Ravenclaw would be great for house unity,” Luna finished, toying with the tote bag at her side.

“Why did Harry think the Ravenclaw had to be me?” you asked, thinking there was a huge misunderstanding.

“Oh, well,” she said like she had forgotten a large part of the story, “after George heard what McGonagall said, he lost it. Harry said he laughed so hard he cried,” Luna giggled to herself while imagining the sight, “and he told everyone in the common room that Fred fancied you.”

Your face turned bright red with anger and embarrassment. The entire Gryffindor house had been laughing all night because George said Fred fancied you.

You were about to burst into protests, insist that it’s not true, but a gaggle of second years wearing red ties all pointed at you, talking among themselves.

You stepped towards them, making sure your prefect badge was visible. You watched their eyes flash down to the blue pin, and back up at your face, eyes wide. They scurried off and you fell back into place with Luna.

“That was rude of them,” Luna said, looping her arm with yours.

“Yeah,” you said quietly under your breath, your mind cloudy with thoughts.

You and Luna walked quietly out to Hagrid’s. You glanced up and saw the last person you had wanted to see.

Fred and George stood at the point where the path diverged to the Quidditch pitch and Hagrid’s hut, throwing a little flame-like ball to each other, bouncing it off their arms, feet, and chests. A small group of some younger kids had huddled around them, ‘ooing’ and ‘awing’ at each pass.

Fred had a large smile on his face, and the sight of it made your stomach churn with nerves.

You ducked your head down, hoping you and Luna would pass without a problem. You would not.

“Hi Fred,” Luna lifted a hand to wave at him, and the small light fell onto the ground as Fred saw you, “hi George.”

George smiled evilly at the sight of his brother nervously looking anywhere but you.

“Fun looking game your playing,” Luna said, trying to stop to talk, but you dragged her along.

“See you later Luna, Y/n!” George called out to the two of you, the laughter obvious in his voice.

“Why didn’t you want to talk to them? You could have asked Fred about what Harry said,” Luna asked you soothingly, looking at you curiously.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, feeling very overwhelmed, “it’s weird. I don’t even know what happened but the thought of it is so weird,” you paused, trying to grasp the words, “I mean, Fred can’t like me. We detest each other, its fun.”

“Well, do you like him?” she had asked the one question you were avoiding.

Fred had always been a thorn in your side. Ever since you met him he was rude. He never apologized for anything, he laughed, poked, and prodded at you for his own amusement. Yet, whenever you saw his soft-looking hair, you swallowed hard. When he inched closer to you, even just to whisper something rude, you felt your chest tighten. He looked at you, and you could swear he actually cared about what you were saying. Maybe detest was a little strong, perhaps just annoyed.

Granted, he was a teenage boy, and you are a teenage girl, mixed messages are bound to be sent. You thought you had been clear with your messages to Fred, though. “Leave me alone,” nothing bitter, nothing kind, just the wish to be left alone. Of course, Fred did not read your message that way. The enticing message he got was more along the lines of: “I’m going to pretend I want you to leave me alone, but please, don’t. Chase me through the hallways, confess undying love for me, kiss me passionately”. Now, it is entirely possible that Fred’s interpretation was a little clouded by his own wants and wishes, but this did not stop him.

The talk of the castle, for at least the following school week, was you and Fred.

You had never been whispered about, pointed at, or thought of like this. Fred seemed to be enjoying it.

In class Monday, Fred pretended nothing had happened. He swung his arm over the back of your chair and waited for the look of disgust to flash across your face, which it did, and he chuckled to himself.

Soon enough, the whispers and pointing had subsided, and they were replaced by odd looks as if they were disbelieving of something.

Luna found you in the courtyard sitting under a tree and skipped over to you.

“You hadn’t told me Fred asked you out,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “officially.”

Once again, you laughed, but she did not. She sat in front of you, crossing her legs.

“Oh my-” you trailed off, lifting your head to look at Luna, “what’s happened now?”

“Hermione told me that Fred has been raving to everyone about how you’re dating.”

Your eyes were wild with disbelief. You couldn’t have even comprehended what was going on at this school these days.

“Well, no one’s told me that we’re dating,” you said, your voice riddled with annoyance.

In perfect timing, Fred, George, and Lee bounded from the school and out to the courtyard. They were laughing and shoving each other, looking to be having a great time.

You stood from the ground, dusting off your pants and walking over to the three with fury.

“Fred!” you called out to him, and he stopped and turned to you.

A look of fear flashed on his face, but he covered it with something else, was it admiration? Love?

You clenched your jaw and narrowed your eyes, stepping close to him. He tilted his head down to look at you, a small smile on his lips.

Around you, George, Lee, and Luna stood with their arms crossed, watching intently.

Your bodies were almost touching, and your finger stabbed into his chest.

“Who do you think you are?” you said in a hushed tone through gritted teeth.

Once again, Fred’s face fell for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around your waist in some sort of embrace. You squirmed from his touch and backed away from him.

“Who do you think you are?” you repeated, this time louder. George and Lee flinched from behind you.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” he asked sweetly.

Your face twisted with confusion, what is he on about?

“What?”

He continued, stepping closer to you.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked earnestly, moving to rub his hand on your arm.

He was trying to flip the script, make you feel crazy.

“Fred, you’ve lost it, really,” you replied, walking back to the tree to gather your books.

“Maybe when you’ve regained consciousness,” you walked back up to him, keeping your distance, “or the effects of whatever potion you took start to wear off, please try to explain what is going on.”

You walked away from them, leaving Fred with a wicked smile.

“Alright, see you later!” he called out to you.

You turned your head to look at him, your hair blew in front of your face but Fred could see your puzzled expression. His smirk grew wider and he turned to George, Lee, and Luna. They looked awfully concerned.

“Oh,” he placed his hands on his hips, “isn’t she great?”

You had gotten to Transfiguration early, your prefect duties switched for the week. You crossed your legs and placed a book on them, reading discretely while McGonagall was still in her office.

Just as she began to address the class, Fred strolled in, hands in his pockets. He slipped into the seat next to you and you bookmarked your page. You scooted your chair in and slipped the worn book into your bag, listening to McGonagall begin her lecture. Monday’s were often boring lecture days in Transfiguration.

You heard the screech of Fred’s chair on the floor, and in the corner of your eye saw him moving closer to you. He rested his elbow on the desk and placed his chin in his palm. He leaned close to you.

“Hello,” he whispered, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You ignored him, dipping your quill into your ink in case McGonagall said something note-worthy.

“What’s ‘a matter,” he paused as if he was thinking of the most annoying thing to say to you, “darling?”

You audibly gagged, and his smile widened.

“What do you want?” you caved, asking him.

“Oh nothing,” he leaned back in his chair, still whispering to you, “just for you to be my girlfriend.”

You went rigid. Your face suddenly got very warm. You lost grip of your quill and it toppled over your ink, sending dark liquid across the desk and onto your white sleeve. You cursed loudly out of reflex and it caught McGonagall’s attention.

“Excuse me, Miss Y/l/n?”

Everyone turned to look at you and Fred in the back of the room, some people smirking. Fred stayed leaned back in his chair, watching you.

“I’m sorry Professor,” you stumbled out, wiping both the ink and your sleeve at the same time, making both things worse, “I just-”

Fred pulled his wand out from beside you and did a simple cleaning spell, you supposed. The ink receded back into its bottle and the stain on your sleeve disappeared. McGonagall watched him intently.

“Very resourceful Weasley, Miss Y/l/n, please don’t disrupt my class again,” she said curtly, returning to the lesson.

You heard a few snickers from your classmates, your face still a deep shade of red. You swallowed hard as you felt your heart beating in your ears.

Fred leaned forward again so his mouth was aligned with your ear.

“What do you say?” he whispered.

“What are you talking about Fred? Why are you doing all this?” you asked, straining to keep your desperate voice in a whisper.

“I’m only having some fun,” he replied as if he hadn’t been making your life a living hell for the past weeks.

You shot him a pleading look, and when he saw your flushed cheeks and watery eyes, his face softened.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on your knee, a knot formed in your throat and shivers went down your arms, “I didn’t mean to-” he trailed off and your jaw clenched. You returned your gaze to the front of the class.

“Listen, I’ve just been,” he paused, searching for the words, “I’ve been playing a sort of prank. On everyone but us.”

His tone was soft and playful as if he were letting you in on a secret. You supposed he was.

You raised your eyebrows, pressing him to continue.

“Well, George basically told everyone in our house that I fancy you, so I wanted to have some fun with it, switch it on them.”

You pressed your eyebrows together, still looking to the front of the room while Fred was inches away from your ear.

“I’ve told everyone we’re dating,” he said plainly, “house unity and all, as McGonagall said.”

“So that was true? What Harry told Luna?” you said before you could stop yourself, happy to finally get answers.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what Harry said, but I’m sure he didn’t leave anything out.”

“Why did George tell everyone that? That you,” you trailed off, feeling the words choking in your mouth, “that you fancy me?”

“Because I do,” he said quickly, and just as quickly moved on, “so what do you say? Want to be my girlfriend-” he paused, realizing what he had just said, “well, my girlfriend of sorts, not like my real girlfriend, because I’m sure you wouldn’t want to, and-” he stopped himself.

This time it was his turn for his cheeks to burn and his eyes to awkwardly avoid yours.

“Why do all this? Seems a lot for a joke that no one but us will laugh at,” you said, trying to ignore his confession.

“I’m willing to go to the ends of the Earth for a joke, my dear.”

Fred was dreadfully serious when saying that, and this became clear within hours.

Walking past the Dungeons and up the many stairs to your common room, you heard Fred call out to you.

“Wait up!” he was breaking away from a large group of Gryffindors, and all of them watched him with a keen eye,

“What, Fred?”

“Hey, that's not a very girlfriend-y tone,” he wrapped his arm easily around you.

You were sure it was meant to be sweet, but it felt a bit imprisoning.

“I never agreed to this,” you didn’t shake off his arm, but you felt inclined to. You were aware of the many eyes pouring into your back.

“I thought we had? Oh,” his arm left your shoulder, and you felt a little colder, “well then I suppose I could leave it all be, go back on my word, humiliate myself.”

His tone was a playful one, and you couldn’t help the bashful smile that reached your cheeks. You knew you had no obligation to Fred, but the whispers and gossip had seemed to subside during this new joke of his. You stopped at the landing, and the group of Gryffindors walked past you, staring at you both. Fred waved them off and nodded his head towards you, smiling.

“Why should I?” you clutched some textbooks to your chest, feeling grateful for the wall it put between you and Fred. He looked down at you, his hair falling into his forehead.

“Well,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets, inching closer to you, “as I said, I just think it could be a bit of fun.”

“Fun for you. What’s in it for me?”

“What? Besides utter fame and popularity from being associated with me?”

“Oh shove off, Fred,” you rolled your eyes at him, but once again could not help the smile that spread across your face.

“See? I’m growing on you already.”

“I’m still seeing no benefit for me.”

“Well, I do see where your coming from, but I’d like to raise another point,” he slipped a hand from his pants and waved it casually while talking, “I will indeed pretend like we are dating even if you don’t.”

“So essentially, you would just be flirting with me while I hurl insults at you?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“Is that the image you want, Fred?” you teased.

You moved to lean against the wall behind you, and Fred trailed after you.

“Any image is a good one,” he winked dramatically at you.

You shrunk away from him and gagged, sending him into a fit of laughter.

“I hate it already.”

“So you’ll do it?” he asked.

You breathed in, looking at him seriously. His hazel eyes were dark in this light, his hair had gone a deeper red in the lack of warm weather and sunshine. He towered over you slightly, and you looked at him through your lashes.

Shrugging your shoulders, you agreed weakly.

Fred saw the error of his thinking almost immediately. Walking through the hallways with you, he felt his heart soar higher and higher each time you laughed. When you would loosen up, or walk a little closer to him. He was being awfully unfair to himself, making himself think that you had something, some sort of relationship. It was like dangling a treat in front of a dog and wanking it away right when the dog drooled.

He saw the flaming house, and still walked in, looking for a place to sleep.

“Why, hello,” Fred drawled, coming up from behind you in the hall.

You felt his hand snake around your waist, and he pulled you. Your feet twisted from under you and you twirled, turning to face him. Your hair had skewed into your face, and he watched your delicate hand reach up to brush it away.

You looked dazed as if you had a lot on your mind. He smiled down at you and you did your best to reciprocate it.

“Are you alright?” he asked, dropping his hand from your hip.

“Yeah, just-” you took a deep breath in, “just got a lot of homework, been a bit busy with my prefect stuff.”

This was not what was bothering you. You felt a lot of inner conflicts these days, an endless moody and angsty monologue sounding off in your head day and night. You felt odd. You felt odd for agreeing to Fred’s stupid plan. You felt odd for toying with him and yourself. You had disliked him just last month, and now you let him wrap his arm around your shoulder, let him hold your waist. You felt like a traitor to yourself, letting him win you over with a few charming looks. You felt even worse when you thought of Fred’s confession. He had said he fancied you, and the idea of pretending to date him didn’t alarm you for some reason. You hated the feeling of toying with his emotions or allowing him to live out some sort of fantasy. Everything about it made you feel awful.

You didn’t feel as awful, though, when Fred would call out a comment from across the dining hall that would make your cheeks burn and all the other girls swoon. You didn’t feel as awful when he would sit in silence with you by the black lake, keeping you company among the chilling wind. You didn’t feel as awful when he slipped little notes into your bag when you left Transfiguration.

You had enough, one too many genuine looks of admiration. You needed to tell Fred how you felt.

You caught him on his way back from Quidditch practice. He was trailing near the end of the group, huddled with George and Harry. He had some dirt on his forehead, and his cheeks were tinted pink. He smelled of grass and sweat.

You pulled your cardigan tighter around you, wishing you had brought your scarf. Your hair whipped in the wind around you, and you rocked on your feet.

You began walking to him, and when he saw you he smiled widely.

“Hey!” he called out, walking faster to meet you.

“Hi,” you said nervously.

“I’ll meet you guys back in the common room,” he told George and Harry, who glanced over their shoulders at the two of you.

It was dusk and he looked strikingly handsome. You felt like you were seeing him as a different person. He wasn’t the boy who bewitched snowballs to attack you, he wasn’t the boy who laughed at your scraped hands. He wasn’t the boy who shoved Lee at you, and he wasn’t the boy who awkwardly danced with McGonagall. He was the boy who held you in his arms, stopping you from falling over the stairs. He was the boy who looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, he was the boy who held you above anything else.

Your mouth was agape as you looked at him, he stood awkwardly waiting for you to say something. You looked at the ground, licking your lips and feeling them dry as soon as the cold air grazed them again.

“I wanted to talk to you,” you said quietly, hoping your voice would fade into the wind and carry you away.

“What’s up?” he looked down at you nervously.

“Fred, I-” he cut you off, placing a hand on your arm.

“You can’t do this anymore?” he looked deeply at you but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

You didn’t want to have this talk anymore, you felt content, suddenly, in pretending. You could both pretend to love each other until it wasn’t pretending. The lines would blur and soon, his kisses would come easily and his hands would have their place on you. You would touch his soft hair and know his eyes only looked at you. But you had already said the words, or rather, he did.

“I just,” you kicked the dirt beneath you, hoping he would finish your sentence again, he didn’t.

“I don’t think its fair,” you looked up at him finally and felt surprised to feel tears in your eyes, you blinked, forcing them to subside, “to either of us.”

You heard him gulp, and his eyes moved to look at the castle behind you. The candles had been lit and the stone glowed from the inside.

“I get it,” he said, removing his hand from your arm.

You looked down at where his hand had been and felt a tear drip down your cheek.

“Fred-”

He shook his head, pulling his mouth into a line. You stopped talking, feeling the words stuck in your heart.

You really wished you hadn’t said anything. You wished you could pretend again.

He walked past you, leaving you in the dusk. You hadn’t meant to, but a sob escaped your mouth. You heard his feet shuffle for a moment, and stop. He walked back to you.

He had finally been able to fall asleep among the fire, and it seemed you had come to join him at some point. He didn’t know when, but looking at you now, it seemed you had been burning for a while.

“What’s got you so torn up about this?” he said gently, stopping a few paces away from you, “Didn’t fall in love with me, did ya?”

A laugh fell from your lips at the same time another sob did. Your shoulders hunched over more, and Fred’s heart hurt him. He walked to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned to face him, and you both moved at the same time. He pulled you close into his chest and your cheek pressed against him. He smelled, he was dirty, and he was tired, but he still held you tighter than you had ever been held before.

You pulled away from him after a while, coming to terms with yourself in the moment of affection. You wiped your tears from your face with your sleeve, taking a few deep breaths.

“I think,” you hiccuped, feeling it hard to speak, “I think that the pretending was too hard.”

Fred felt guilt wash over him. He felt guilty for himself, because you had said exactly what he was feeling. He couldn’t stand to pretend, to keep himself from gripping your hand, or from kissing you any chance he got. He wanted it all to be real, he wanted this wall between you to crumble into a genuine relationship. He felt guilty for making you feel this way. He felt guilty for pressuring you into this allusion of intimacy. He hadn’t stopped to consider if this would be negative for you, only insisting it would all work out for the best.

As he watched your uneven breathing and swollen nose and eyes, he knew this was not the best.

He breathed hard, forcing himself not to cry as he looked at you. George was supposed to be the sensitive one, but Fred had always been a sympathetic crier.

“Me too,” he replied, his voice sounding far, far away.

You looked at him, feeling terrified. The cold air was moving through you liked you were transparent. Tears kept flowing down your face, and no matter how fast you dried them, you only cried more. Your head felt miles away from your body, so you stepped closer to him, hoping to step closer to yourself too.

“I don’t think I want to pretend,” you croaked out.

He blinked at you, and you saw a single tear fall down his cheek. He didn’t move to brush it away, and it moved slowly. It left a clean mark on his dirt-stained face.

You took a step towards him, covering your hand with your sleeve. You cupped the back of his neck with one hand and brought your sleeved hand to his cheek. You wiped the tear and the dirt away, but your hand didn’t move. You peaked your fingers from your sleeve and they grazed his face. His eyes fluttered closed and your throat tightened as more tears poured from your eyes. Your vision was blurry as you traced his face, moving over his nose, eyebrows, and lips. You stopped to cup his cheek, and he leaned into your palm. You felt the wetness of more tears fall onto your hand, and you bit your lips, holding in a wretched noise.

“Fred?”

His eyes fluttered open, and you realized his hands had found their way onto your waist, he held you tightly.

“Do you want to pretend?” you asked him.

He moved his head from your cheek and kept his wet eyes locked with yours.

“I want you,” his voice was hoarse and sad, but that was all you needed to hear.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck and he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

The dusk had turned into the night, and you pulled away from Fred. You looked up at him and swallowed away the tears that remained. You began to walk past him and up to the castle. He followed you quickly.

You were scared. You had safety in pretending, knowing this was all something for fun. But as you looked at Fred now, you saw something deeper. You saw the threat of genuine love and connection, the threat of heartbreak.

Neither of you wanted to go without the other tonight, you had decided. You wordlessly followed him to his common room, and he slipped his hand into yours. You had both ducked into a prefect bathroom on the way there, looking at yourselves and covering your swollen eyes.

He said the password to a portrait of a large lady, and she looked suspiciously at you both.

“Are you two alright? You’ve just about missed curfew,” she said, her voice booming through the staircase.

“Yeah, we’re alright, just tired from practice, is all,” Fred reassured her, and the door swung open. He walked in first, and you followed.

You relished in the warmth of the spacious room, feeling drawn to the fireplace. You walked over to it and sat on a large couch. The room was relatively empty, a few kids hunched over books.

Fred sat next to you, still in his Quidditch robes. He grabbed your legs with his hand and guided them to rest on one of his legs, hanging over it. This angled your body to him, and he moved his arm to wrap around you.

“When did you realize?” he asked, his face lit by the fire.

“Just then, when you walked up to me after your practice.”

His chest moved with a chuckle and you moved your head to looked up at him.

“Well that's a little embarrassing for me,” he said, pushing a piece of your hair out of your face while you gazed up at him, “I've known since I met you.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t,” you said lightly, assuming he was trying to be some sort of romantic and inflating the truth.

“I did,” he said seriously, “I teased you for so long for a reason.”

“Because you’re an idiot?”

“Yes.”

You both laughed, pulling each other closer.

“And because I liked you.”

You rolled your eyes, sinking deeper into him. You felt yourself getting tired and you peered up at him. His eyes were half-closed and his face was drooping.

“Fred, you’re tired, why don’t you go to bed,” you began to move off of him, but he pulled you back.

“Only if you make me a deal,” he said mischievously.

“What?”

“I’ll go upstairs and take a quick shower, but only if you come with me,” he replied.

“I am not showering with you, pervert,” you smacked his arm and stood from the couch, blushing furiously.

He smiled and grabbed your hand, turning it to kiss your palm. You shivered at his touch.

“No, just come lay with me,” he looked up at you, suddenly serious, “I want to be with you tonight.”

Your heart sank to your stomach and you bit your lip. You couldn’t speak, so you nodded your head slowly.

Fred fished his wand from his robes and waved it towards the stairs, performing the counterspell for the stairs. You followed him up to his room, where he put his finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. When he cracked open the door, it was dark and the curtains for the beds had been drawn. He crept over to a chest at the foot of his bed and looked at you before turning to its contents. He pulled out two large pajama pants, both plaid, and two heavy sweaters. He tossed one of each on his bed and took the others with him.

“Here, you can sleep in these,” he whispered to you, and it felt like you would blush forever.

He smiled softly at you before closing the curtains for you, leaving you to change.

“Oi, mate,” you heard someone’s annoyed and hoarse voice, “what took you so long? Practice ended an hour ago.”

“I was talking with Y/n,” you heard the bathroom door open, “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow, I’m gonna shower. And don’t wake me up for breakfast tomorrow, I want to sleep in.”

You smiled to yourself, holding the soft sweater in your hands. It had a large ‘F’ on it, and you traced your fingers over it. You slid out of your jeans and folded them, placing them on the floor by the trunk. You slid on the pants he gave you and silently laughed as they easily ran past your feet and dragged on the floor. You folded them at the waist, and they were still too long. You had just slipped on the sweater when Fred slid open the curtain. He watched you fold your shirt and place it with your jeans. His eyes trailed from his sweater to the way his pants covered your feet. He smiled widely and drew you closer to him by grabbing your hips.

You looked up at him, your chests pressed together. He brought one hand up to your jaw, tilting it up to align with his face. His lips parted and so did yours, the air between you becoming a mixture of your breaths. His was minty, he must have just brushed his teeth.

His thumb grazed your bottom lip, and he finally closed the space between you. His neck craned down to you, but when you stood on your toes he was able to stand straight. You pressed as close to him as you could, and so did he. His lips were warm against your cold ones. He felt the many places that had been chapped and bitten, running his tongue over them slowly. You sighed and ran your chilled hands up his sweater, feeling him shiver beneath you. Your fingertips grazed the muscles on his back, tracing every line you could feel.

You pulled away first, sinking down to stand flat on your feet and rest your forehead on his chest.

“I’m so glad we didn’t pretend to do that,” Fred laughed out, pulling you close to him.

You smiled and hugged him, before moving to the other side of the small bed. You both slid under the covers silently, thinking that if either of you said something, things would suddenly be awkward.

The lack of bed only made him hold you tighter, and the two of you fell asleep relatively soon.

You were awoken by the sounds of laughter. The curtains were still drawn, and Fred’s arm was still wrapped around you. Your leg was resting on him as he laid on his back, hugging you close to him. Your head lifted from his chest as you squinted your eyes.

“No, he said he wanted to sleep in, mate,” you heard George say. The door opened and you heard footsteps walking towards it.

“You think they finally told each other?” Lee asked George, pulling on a wool hat.

“I hope so, bloody awful letting Fred think he tricked us,” George said before closing the door behind them.

You smiled and let your head sink back onto Fred. He stirred and pulled you closer to him. Through the fabric of his sweater, you swore you could hear the steady rhythm of his heart.