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#and a lot of times situations do work out exactly the way they were meant to but in the most unexpected of ways
Okay here's one. I really dont think I'm the asshole but my ex sure does.
AITA for refusing to buy my partner a jar of pickles?
So this story has like, a little background and some confounding factors i think but i really could go both ways on whether i was the asshole.
Ill start with both my ex (21nb) and i (23f) had severe mental health issues and were working on treatment when we were together. Theyd been in and out of inpatient stays throughout our three year relationship. Towards the Day of Pickles, i had my first inpatient stay where i got help i desperately needed to keep myself safe. This happened to be about a week after my 23rd birthday, but about two and a half weeks before their 21st birthday.
Anyway, at that time i had just gotten out of the hospital and started a new job at Joanns Fabrics (i outlived that retail fucker and im proud of it). I had been unemployed for the previous year and a half because of the pandemic and so the retail job was really my saving grace to have some sort of income to buy gas and groceries. My parents let me live rent free with them in their basement but i spent a LOT of time essentially squatting at my ex's dorm because my situation with my parents was not great.
Now my ex was also being financially abused by their mom so they had a monthly "allowance" of 200$ (of their own money they made at their on campus job) and no access to their bank statements. So i spent a lot of my own money on gas and groceries for both of us, and anything we wanted to do for fun, like visit the city. Without an income, this was SUPER stressful for me and i spiraled pretty hard with feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness. Supporting two people, even minimal living expenses, on an income of exactly 0$ is the WORST.
Anyway, i got out of the hospital and pretty much immediately went back to picking up as many shifts as i could at work because id been on staff for all of two weeks before hospitalization. Knowing retail, i was probably on the precipice of losing hours or being fired altogether.
My ex wanted me to take time off to celebrate their 21st birthday (they didnt celebrate my birthday that year) and travel to see their family and drink etc. I got scheduled for an inconvenient time. I would have to miss their birthday if i didnt find someone to cover. I managed to switch shifts with another coworker who was nice enough to let me have her morning shift, so i was able to at least travel separately and be a little late to dinner.
The night of their birthday my ex wanted to get drunk and so we went to the liquor store. Now im generally pretty picky about alcohol but if i get anything special i always get enough to share. Mysteriously, no one ever offers to share the expense or pay me back. So with all of 150$ in my account, i purchased enough alcohol for myself and the rest of the party, and a bottle of (cheap af) liquor for myself. I was broke af until my next paycheck and was pretty much planning on giving up meals and staying at home because the commute to work was shorter and meant less gas.
My ex picked out a jar of boozy pickles and asked if i would get it for them for their birthday. I should note that with all the stress i was under i had found a birthday present for them but hadnt actually placed the order (was waiting to get paid). I also didnt lie to them about this and had told them that i hadnt gotten their birthday present yet. They were upset by this and told me they felt like i didnt care about them, to which i snapped and raised my voice a little.
I gave them a bit of a reality check. I told them in no uncertain terms that i was under a lot of stress, from nearly killing myself to being flat broke with little to no help from my family other than a conditional roof over my head, ordering their birthday present wasnt super high on my list of things to do and that i knew what i was going to get them and that i intended to order it as soon as i had the money to do so. After years of the sole attention being focused on keeping them alive, i needed some support and acting like i didnt care completely ignored EVERYTHING i did to keep us both afloat.They cried and played the victim as they tended to do and i was too stressed to do anything but be angry.
So when they asked for the pickles i told them no. I have NOTHING left in my bank account, and anything that was in my account was already allocated for something else.
They told me i was being selfish for buying myself alcohol on THEIR birthday, not even getting them a present, yelling at them, and then refusing to buy the one thing they asked for, especially after i refused to take off work the day before to hang out with them and their family. In front of our friends.
I told them that i was purchasing the alcohol for the whole party, that the present had slipped my mind, and that they were accusing me of not caring about them when i snapped. Then i walked out.
My bff went outside to help me cool down and i told him what was going on and how stressed i was and he said that he agreed with me, it was childish to expect me to pay for everything with no help from anyone and then act like im unreasonable for having to put limits on what i can purchase.
My ex ended up getting so pissed by all of this they broke up with me two days later, saying that their birthday was the final straw for them after I'd been so codependent and relying on them too much to survive.
I think its all ridiculous given all of the stress factors i was dealing with at the time. I feel like we're all entitled to the occasional emotional outburst/bouts of forgetfulness when we're stressed. But my ex seems to think im a selfish asshole. We've been no contact for the last two years so this isnt like a pressing concern or anything but it does make me roll my eyes occasionally.
So tumblr, aita?
(Btw im also much more financially stable now that I'm fully and properly medicated and away from them.)
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railingsofsorrow · 4 days
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don't walk out
[spencer reid x reader]
summary: “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.”  pairing: s.reid x gn!reader  w.c: 1K warnings/content: implied abandoned issues; argument; silent treatment (brief); language; angst.  A/N: guess I'm on a roll today. I just love some angst. 
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“is that supposed to make me feel better?”  
lights had barely been turned on when you spat out a response, breaking the tense silence. your apartment was tidy, nothing out of order, even the pillows where settled two on each edge of the couch like you always did before leaving for work.  
it was the expected. three days away on a case didn't exactly mean your house would turn upside down, would it? unanimated things didn't move on their own. but one thing that was turning upside down was your mood. not only did the journey home came with lots of turbulence, but Spencer had to make an unpleasant comment that made your blood boil. was it wrong that you just wanted to not look at him right now? you were even considering not sleeping beside him tonight. 
“for fucks sake.” you mumbled under your breath when he had stayed silent. he's ignoring you now. great. throwing your work bag on the couch, you didn't even take your shoes off as you moved back toward the door. you can't handle his passive aggressive act and you certainly won't handle his silence treatment.  
“where are you going?” he called out, shuffling out of the bedroom upon hearing the sound of keys dangling. no. no, you're not leaving, are you? “what—” 
“i'm gonna take a walk, spencer.” 
it didn't take a second for him to rush over and stop your exit by blocking the door. “what are the car keys for then?” desperation clouded his tone and you felt guilt building up in your chest, but it wasn't bigger than your frustration.  
“I'm gonna drive.” 
“at this time of the night? you hate driving at night.” 
“are you my father?” he almost flinched at your sharp tone. okay, he deserved that hostility. he's been nothing but rude to you the entire jet ride back home. it's not that you did anything — even if you had done something, it does not justify the way he was treating you —, the case had been hard. it involved kids. the team wasn't fast enough. he wasn't fast enough. you almost got hurt. it was a lot to absorb in a short amount of time.  
he never wanted this: you walking out while you were mad at each other. no. you had made a deal long ago. you both were laughing after your first stupid argument, something about forgetting to fold the laundry.  
“okay, but we can be like this, right?” you said, nudging him. “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.” 
his eyes soften and he almost turns to mush. he understood then that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. and yes. you would be mad and you would upset each other but leaving was off the table. he could do that. there was nothing he'd want more. 
but now he'd cross a line. didn't he? how dare he do that? how dare he cause you do want to walk out? 
“i'm sorry.” spencer is still at the doorway when you ask him to move. he won't move. he can't. “i really am. I shouldn't have said that. it was out of line.” 
“really?” you snap. he hears the edge in your voice and the crack. it breaks him. he just wants to hold you, he never meant—means to hurt you. “then why did you? why would you even think about something like that?”  
he holds back his breath of relief once you've put the keys back in the bowl. the lump in his throat diminishing slightly. 
“i was upset. angry— at the case. the whole situation, not you.“ he clarified. “sweetheart, i'm sorry. I didn't mean it.” you're searching his face for some indication of lie that you won't find. “i'm sorry.” 
“you're an idiot.” your anger is gone, there's just frustration now. maybe at yourself, because you can't really stay mad at him as he stares at you with those eyes.  
“i am,” he admits, no ounce of hesitation in his tone. he's fairly certain he is, in fact, an idiot. “i'm sorry.” he repeats and he will repeat over and over again until you forgive him. he will beg if he has to. “don't leave, please.” 
and that is not fair. it's not. he can't make you mad and say sorry and all will be forgiven. he can't look at you with those eyes and think things will be magically fixed. 
but then your armor cracks. suddenly, his behaviour makes sense. 
we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave. 
“i wasn't going to—” you're ashamed at this point. you were so blinded by anger that you'd do something you promised to never do. “you know I wouldn't leave, right?” then his desperation in reaching the door before you makes sense and you're taken back to the moment you promised not to walk out in a fight. that's exactly what you where about to do.  
“i'm sorry.” you say, staring at the keys in your hands. “i didn't think before acting.”  
spencer nods slowly, taking a step closer towarss your frame. “and I didn't think before speaking. I'm the one that should be sorry.” 
you caught a glimpse at his twitchy fingers and takes one of his hands into your own, letting the keys slip to the floor as you yank him to your arms. he only complies by squeezing you against him. and finally, both of you have what you've been craving since this case started: each other's comfort.  
and then, you repeat. “i wasn't going to leave, you know that, right?”  
“yeah.” he burries his face into your neck and his voice is muffled by your skin. “yeah, I know.” 
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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ; 
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bunnywritesjunk · 9 months
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Hiiii love got sent here by a lil birdie that told me you can fulfill my ghost x hybrid bunny reader request here 🥹💀💗
Honestly wanna know how ghost would handle a bratty bunny that’s going through heat, but is too stubborn to go to him about, when seriously he’s alway down to tame that insatiable lil beast inside of heerrr 😋🤞🏽
Thank you so much for writing anything period, seriously. 🐰💗
Hello my fellow bunny. I had a lot of fun writing this. I'll probably do more hybrid reader stuff if people request it. I feel like Ghost would be a bit of a meanie in this situation, he's a brat tamer for sure. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Heat, helping through heat, unprotected sex, Hybrid!reader, edging, bratty reader.
A helping Hand
Your ears twitched as the sun poured in through the window. You sat up in your cot rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. You sat up, your pajama shirt sticking to your bedding with pools of sweat. You padded off to your bathroom immediately hopping in the shower. Dull cramps in your lower stomach made you groan.
“Oh, not now. Please.” You pleaded with your biology.
You've been taking suppressants for your heat ever since you moved to this base. You gave your body a break and went off suppressants when you were on leave but this time something or someone had triggered your heat. You had a sneaking suspicion as to who it is. Being a weapons mechanic meant you didn't have to be around people very often. As long as a certain someone wasn't here you should be ok. You finished your cold shower and got dressed for the day. You tucked your ears under a cap and hid your tail in your pants. Although there were other hybrids on base, you didn't exactly want to display your rabbit features everywhere. You walked quickly to your station, avoiding any soldiers that might come your way.
You entered the weapons room and got to work. You had a few gun inspections to do. The real work wouldn't come until Ghost and his squadron came back from their mission. They were scheduled to arrive in two days, but you prayed it took them longer than that. Ghost would smell your heat, the embarrassment of having to ask him was too much. You weren't some needy bunny, you can handle your heat alone. After a few inspections were done you wrote up your paperwork for them the be cleaned and handed out for the next mission. Being engrossed in work took your mind off your impending heat.
First, you smelled him. The faint scent of Ghost. No, he wasn't supposed to be back yet. He slammed open the door unceremoniously placing all his weapons on the nearby table. Crap you kept your head down and hoped the smell of gunpowder covered your heat.
“Miss me, bunny?” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. His wolf tail had a slight wag to it.
“You're back early, how was the mission?”
“Easy, mostly recon.” He sighed.
You gestured at the guns he put down. “I'll get those checked out for you.”
Ghost walked up to the counter you were behind and leaned on it.
“You had lunch yet?” He asked. You shook your head.
“Come on then.” He headed toward the door.
“I'm not that hungry, you can go without me.” You didn't meet his eyes.
“Hmm.” He slowly walked behind the weapons counter blocking the only exit.
“Is there something wrong?” He asked in a matter-of-fact tone.
“No, why would there be anything wrong?” You shrugged.
He leaned down to your level, his eyes peeking at you through blonde eyelashes. You backed up as far as you could only able to get a few more inches away from him.
“You're not a very good liar, bunny.” He stood up to his full height and walked out, leaving you flustered and hot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rest of the day went by painfully slow. Your heat intensified after Ghost paid his visit. It came over you in waves, almost causing you to double over at times. You considered asking him for help many times but ultimately decided against it. After work was done you practically ran to your room. You'd already asked your supervisor if you could have the next few days off, explaining the situation. You opened the door and shut it quickly behind you before shedding your clothes off. Your tail ached from being hidden all day. Your fuzzy ears stretched out, one stayed straight up and the other folded down. You flopped down onto your bed eager to use your toys.
You reached into the drawer on your bedside table, only to find nothing. You sat up and searched frantically. Where did you put them? This is bad. You looked under your bed, in your bathroom, in your dresser, nothing. The frustration started getting to you. Your eyes welled up with tears as you looked. Your feet thumped in anger every time you looked and they weren't there. As you checked your bathroom for the third time a knock sounded at your door. You grabbed your robe as you were only in underwear and slipped it on. You stomped to the door and wiped your tears before opening it.
A skull mask was staring down at you. Ghost held up a familiar velvet bag and leaned on your doorframe.
“Looking for something?”
You reached up to grab the bag but he kept it out of reach.
“Give it to me, Simon!” You whined.
He pushed himself off the door and into your room closing the door behind him. The blonde shaggy tail wagged lazily behind him, clearly amused by your distress.
“Now, why didn't my bunny come to me for help?” He asked.
Your ears folded down against your head in embarrassment. “I don't need your help.”
He walked past you and put your toys back in the bedside drawer. He started taking off his gloves.
“Ok, thank you for returning them, you can leave now.” You said.
He placed his gloves on the nightstand. He turned to you, his eyes darkened. He stalked toward you slowly almost as if he was ready to pounce. You looked away from him but held your ground. He towered over you and tilted his head.
“You always were a little brat huh?” His words annoyed you.
Before you can give him a rebuttal he took his mask off giving you a full view of his scarred face. He grabbed your jaw roughly contrasting the gentle kiss he gave you. His tongue caressed your mouth open. Your knees weakened as he pulled you flush against his body by your waist. Your heat urged your body to submit, but your mind wasn't there yet. You pulled away breathlessly. He still had a firm hold on the side of your face.
“I don't need your help, Simon.” You said once again quietly.
Simon's golden ear twitched in annoyance. “Right.”
He picked you up by the hips and wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked you to your bed, embarrassment written on your face. He laid you down on the bed, pressing his hips into yours. You whimpered at the friction he created. He leaned down to nibble and suck your neck making you squirm. His hand made its way past your robe and into your panties with ease. Your wetness made it easy for him to dip his fingers into you. You gasped at the intrusion, practically melting into the mattress.
“Don't need my help, but you're so wet for me, Bunny.”
“I bet you were gonna think of me anyway.” Simon purred into your ear.
You moaned weakly as he worked his finger into you, his thumb circling your clit gently. His nose grazed your own, taking in the look of ecstasy on your face. Your orgasm came quickly and with force. Simon knew exactly what buttons to push to get you shivering under him. He unsheathed his fingers from you and popped them in his mouth, tasting your slick.
“Tell me what you want.” He demanded.
“ I...Simon..." You whined.
“Tell me, Bunny.”
You covered your face muffling your words.
“I can't hear you, love. Speak up.”
“Please help me.....through my heat....”
“That's more like it." He purred.
He opened your robe and slid your panties off. In his haste, he ripped them a bit and you whined. You ignored your small protest and worked on your bra removing it expertly.
“I'll buy you some new ones.” He said quickly.
Ghost shed his clothing and flipped you over on your stomach.
“Ass up.” He tapped your hip.
You got on your knees arching your back deeply to present yourself to him. You wiggled your ass eager to have him inside you. He used a hand to steady your hips and slid his tip in between your folds. He slowly pushed himself into savoring the way your walls clenched around him.
“Ohh, you feel so good, Bunny.” He growled.
You were almost incoherent, the daze of your heat clouding your mind. You pushed your hips against his trying to get more friction. Simon bottomed out into you and started thrusting into you hard. He kept his pace slow at first, slamming his hips into yours. His tip grazed your cervix in a deliciously painful way. You whimpered every time it did. As his pace sped up, Simon's sighs turned into grunts and moans. He enjoyed watching your fluffy bunny tail bounce as he rammed into you.
“You take me so well.” The praise he gave you made your walls flutter.
He reached around your leg to rub your clit. Your moans got more desperate and guttural as your second orgasm approached. He slowed his movements ever so slightly to drag your pleasure out longer.
“I wanna cum Si, Please.” You whined.
“Only when I tell you, Bunny. You know the rules.” He grunted out.
“And since you didn't come to me first, you need a little bit of a punishment hmm?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.
His thrust slowed, still keeping them firm. His hips slapped against your ass rhythmically. Your moans got higher pitched, his edging did a number on your heat-ridden body. Your legs trembled underneath you, the stimulation becoming more intense by the second. Luckily he didn't torture you for long.
“Cum for me.”
Simon's pace sped up and you came almost instantly. Your vision was fuzzy as you collapsed onto the bed. He bent down and caressed your head as you recovered from your orgasm. Simon rubbed your ear lovingly.
“I'm not done with you, Bunny.”
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minty364 · 2 months
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DPXDC Prompt #108 Part 1
He remembered going to bed in his own bed last night. His own bed in his own room. This wasn’t his room, his bed, or even his pajamas. The body he was in didn’t feel quite right either, almost like it somehow knew he wasn’t supposed to be in it. Part of him wondered if he was dreaming but he was way too self aware for this to be a dream. 
This room didn’t look like any of his brother's rooms either. It had a bunch of space themed trinkets, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, and NASA posters on the walls. None of his brothers were into space as far as he knew so this had to be a strangers room. He wondered for a moment if he was kidnapped or something, but that didn’t sound quite right either. He was in a stranger's body so he must be in this person’s room. He had to figure out exactly what was going on. 
Just as he was considering his options the phone by the table side started ringing. Damian didn’t really know where the tune came from but it sounded catchy. He looked at the caller ID and while the phone didn’t recognize the number Damian did. It was his own, hopefully he’d be able to get some answers. 
“Hello?” He answered.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about all of this. My parents are inventors and one of their inventions backfired big time. I’m Danny” The voice on the other line was his own, a little jarring sure but it to be expected, if he was in someone’s body there was a good chance they were in his body. “My name’s Damian, Inventions? This is quite the backfire. I hope you have a plan to switch us back.”
“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ve got a couple friends looking into it, they’ll be on their way in a bit to help with all of this.” 
Damian was starting to get irritated a little at how this was going. Bringing outside ‘help’ into the situation just seemed more like a distraction from whatever ‘Danny’ had planned for Gotham.
“Right, Damian, so right now you're in my body and I’m in your’s… so, my parents' invention was only supposed to strengthen the soulmate pull, but because of my weird biology. We switched bodies instead.” Damian didn’t have word’s, the whole story sounded ludicrous. But at the same time, Damian couldn’t help but believe it was true.
The weird things about the body he was in, helped convince him and then, suddenly a thought occurred to him. Hesitantly he lifted his other hand up to his neck to check his pulse.
It was unusually slow, “Why’s your pulse so slow?” he couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t want to admit it but he was starting to freak out a little. 
“Like I said, I’ve got weird biology. I’ll explain, but it isn’t a pretty story. I don’t really want to explain all of this but since you're in my body, you need to know so you can keep my parents from finding out. Deal?”
Having weird biology still didn’t quite explain things but hopefully a few things didn’t quite make sense, “You said your parent’s were researching soulmates? Why.”
“Alright, I’ll give you this one but seriously you’ve got to promise to keep my parent’s from finding out about things. They were a little upset that I haven’t found mine yet, my sister found hers so they were excited for me to find mine. Long story short, bad things tend to happen when my parents get excited.”
So from the sound of things Danny thought they were soulmates. That might have been true but there wasn’t a good way for them to prove anything at the moment. For now it would probably be better to go along with Danny’s plan. He didn’t like it but he could probably get a lot of information out of Danny’s friends if he played along. “Alright I agree to not intentionally reveal anything to your parents.”
“Work’s for me. What do you know about ghosts?”
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ginevrapng · 3 months
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𝐈'𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃
pairing: fwb!james x reader
word count: 1.5k words
warnings and contents: for my friends with benefits james there is no smut asdfghjkl, hurt, jealousy, FLUFF
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you're sitting in the great hall eating breakfast and you spot james across the hall with all the other gryffindors. you're unable to stop your lip quirk upwards as you hear his boisterous laugh, which you guess is due to some joke or prank he's retelling.
your small smile drops as you see lily evans walk up the marauders. you've never had a problem with her, she is a popular gryffindor that is friendly and works well to get top marks but the way she's walking up to the marauders, looking at james determined and with a mission, fills you with slight dread. if you were completely honest you felt she spent more time with james then necessary, especially considering how they've got their own friends and how many times she turned him down in the past.
the hall is already pretty quiet due to everyone already have eaten and a lot of people stop their conversations or lower their voices as they see lily go up to james. everyone in every house knows that's irregular. for the previous years of hogwarts james followed lily everywhere like a lost puppy always asking her out and coming up to her but he had stopped. no one knew why. it was because of you.
because the hall became so silent you heard what evans asked james and you wished the hall was louder, you wished you didn't hear, you wish you were somewhere else, anywhere else, you started to become sick as she asked james if he's free this weekend to go to hogsmeade. "i don't know, i think remus has to study but i know sirius and peter are free too. are all the other girls going?" at that moment it's hard to tell if he's actually oblivious or if he knows exactly what she's asking him but he's choosing not to answer. he has a smile on his face but even from a distance it looks a bit forced to you.
if you were anyone else you would lean to the fact he's being oblivious but you're not anyone, people always underestimate james and you have a feeling james knows exactly what she's actually asking but for some reason he's pretending that he has no clue what she means but you don't know why he'd do that. james is kind and wouldn't want to embarrass someone so publicly but at the same time you're unsure of why he'd be so sure of turning her down but the fact that he is does makes you incredibly happy, you won't tell him that though.
"oh, i don't actually know what the girls are doing. i meant just us two. like on a date?" lily asks him, not wavering at all even with what james has previously said.
james sighs under his breath. "i've got things to do, you should go with someone else."
"what about another weekend?" lily asks, hopeful and you don't blame her for that, anyone would be hopeful asking out someone who in the past asked them out every other day.
"lily, i'm sorry if i'm hurting your feelings but i don't want to go on a date with you," he tells her and you can see that he's trying to be as nice as he can be in a situation like this. no one caught on to the fact that james said that he's only sorry that he's hurt her feelings, he's not sorry for not wanting to date her though, like it's not even an option on my mind, he's not entertaining the thought about going on a date with her, you don't catch on, lily doesn't, the marauders don't, no one does.
everyone is stunned, they thought for sure he'd say yes, he has been pining after her for so long and most people just thought he started playing hard to get, giving her some distance until she recognises how much she misses him but that wasn't true at all. lily never crosses his mind anymore, why would she? he has you. you're all he thinks about. yeah at one point he fancied lily but he loves you.
after a couple beats lily replies with an, "oh, alright then. i guess i'll see you in the common room." this time it's lily that forces a smile. james doesn't respond. she has just been rejected and it's making her feel dejected, not only does james not want to go on a date with her but he doesn't want to hang out with her either. the whole time she thought this was some ploy from james to get her attention but she realised she was wrong. he has no interest in her at all.
as soon as lily's out of earshot and going out of the great hall you hear the loud voices of james' friends. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT PRONGS? DON'T YOU WANT LILY ANYMORE?"
"that was mean james, you didn't have to reject her in front of everyone."
"YOU DON'T WANT EVANS? I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. I NEVER THOUGHT THIS DAY WOULD COME. CAN I GO FOR HER?"
"i've got to say i'm surprised to prongs, i never thought you'd shut lily down like that. she really does like you and if this is some trick to get her to like you more, don't do it. she talks about you a lot."
james interrupts his friends knowing this could go on all morning and knowing that you're definitely hearing all this, worried you might be getting the wrong idea. "you can go for her pads, it's none of my business." they all look even more shocked as they hear this but he carries on, "i have no interest in lily whatsoever, yes i used to but i moved on from that. i didn't try to be mean peter but she wasn't taking a hint, i kept trying to tell her no and to let her down gently and moony honestly you shouldn't be surprised if anything it's more surprising that this hasn't happened sooner, me and lily have absolutely nothing in common and we can barely hold a conversation together that last more than ten minutes."
they're all rendered speechless at james as they realise he is 100 percent serious about this. no matter if lily chases james just like he chased her his answer will always be the same, no.
in james' eyes lily doesn't hold a candle to you.
he flicks his eye to where you're sitting and you briefly make eye contact. james was feeling in a bit of a negative mood after what happened but that immediately changed when he glances at you to see that you're already looking at him. you see a stupid grin appear on his face, uncontrolled and automatic, you quickly look down knowing that you've been caught watching him. as you're looking down you smile at the whole situation. james told lily no, and he said it so certain like nothing could change his mind. that absolutely stopped the sicky feeling you had. no one would notice you smiling as you're looking away from everyone but james knew that's what you'd be doing.
james wants to grab your face and lift it up so you're looking at each other again, he already misses your face and the colours of your eyes and it's only been a second since you've looked away from him. he wants to see your bashful smile as you try to look away from him again but he'll just place hundreds of kisses all over your face instead. he wants to desperately tell you that lily doesn't mean anything to him, you have gotten jealous on occasion due to lily even if you deny it, hopefully this might help. he wants to tell you that there's nothing to be jealous about. although you both know that he'll likely tease you about how you was "staring" at him the whole time when he turned down lily.
"what the fuck are you grinning about james?" remus asks, he seems the most annoyed with james about how he handled the situation, remus and lily are study buddies so they are actually good friends and he's known for awhile how lily has felt about james he's just always thought james still feels the same way, he thought it was mutual.
james snaps out off his thoughts of you, not wanting the marauders to question him about you. "nothing important," james replies, not looking back at you.
he hopes that he'll have the chance to talk to you today, even if it's for five minutes. maybe you'll talk about your plans for the weekend and you can try and find time to get together, maybe you'll tease him and say lily invited you to hogsmeade while you were at dinner.
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sweetiecutie · 10 months
Text
Valeria Garza sugar mommy hc’s
Pairing: Valeria Garza x fem! Reader
Warnings: mdni, sugar mommy/sugar baby dynamics, age gap, a liiiiittle bit of angst but it’s all good, smut, it’s proofread a few times but I’m dyslexic so there prob will be mistakes lmao😭
In my mind Valeria is a raging lesbian. She always knew that she was attracted to women, but still gave a few goes to relationships with men. And, needless to say, the only things she got from those were trauma and deep disappointment in men. I can’t tell about her relationships with Alejandro for sure - were they platonic or romantic - but I kinda feel like he was the final straw for her. After whatever happened between these two, even an idea itself of being together with a man repulsed Valeria.
So when she laid her eyes on you - pretty little thing, all giggly and bubbly, looking up at her with those adorable doe eyes - Valeria knew that she just had to have you at any cost.
At first she was very subtle with her advances - she wanted to make sure that you were into women as well, to avoid yet another painful disappointment. And she couldn’t exactly ask you straight - that could’ve freak you out and scare you away - last thing Valeria would want. It took a pretty long while - for Valeria’s great dismay and frustration - for a perfect opportunity to finally come. And when you, giggling and blushing, confessed that you were indeed interested in women - Valeria felt giddy. Just perfect.
After this rather informative conversation between the two of you, Valeria finally decided to bring to life her plan of courting you. At first it was very confusing for both you of you. Mostly you. Here she is - this insanely attractive older woman, being genuinely interested in your company, asking you out for coffee or just a ‘girls night’ every once in a while, and you didn’t know how to feel about it all. Valeria was playful and flirty, all the fleeting touches on your shoulders or thighs that made you tremble, your fingers brushing while handing something to each other, longing stares that were a bit too long to be brushed off and it wasn’t long until you developed a crush on her. And rather huge one, I’d say. “But did she actually feel the same? Was she interested in you the way you were in her? Or was she just playing around, like a cat with a trembling mouse, before throwing you away once she got bored?” - these were the questions buzzing loudly in your head, and you didn’t know what to do.
You’ve been fighting your feelings back - ignoring butterflies flaring in your stomach whenever Valeria called you, or stupid smile stretching your lips at the mere thought of her. Your “little crush” turned out to be stronger than you initially thought it was, and it scared you. So, to avoid your heart being broken, you decided to take this whole situation into your own hands. And by that you meant ignoring Valeria until your feeling for her disappeared.
And oh baby, was she annoyed by that. Once eager and happy “Of course, sushi night sounds just great” from you was replaced by “Sorry, but uni really has me in a chokehold, gotta lots of work to do”. This lasted for nearly a month before Valeria’s this thin patience finally snapped - she had to do something about it.
She decided to visit you late in the evening (so that she was sure you were home, to avoid possible frustration by you being absent). Banging on your front door she waited patiently for you to open it, listening to quiet scurrying on the other side.
Soon tentative “who’s there?” came from you, your voice sounded so small - scared, even - not waiting anyone this late of an hour.
- It’s me, hermosa. Open the door, - she said as calmly as she could manage, jaw set tightly and nostrils flaring as adrenaline was rushing through her veins.
You cracked open the door, peeking out to make sure it was actually her, before opening it fully. Valeria felt her rage fading slightly at the sight of you - hair all disheveled and up in a rushed bun, skin flushed and soft from hot shower, small silky bathrobe you had on gave her a pretty sight of your plushy thighs.
You were relieved to see her at your door and not some creep that could put you in danger. But the look of annoyance etched on her pretty face made you gulp nervously, whole body tensing as you could clearly feel a not so pleasant conversation quickly approaching.
You stepped aside, letting Valeria inside your small apartment. She made her way to your living room, stopping in the middle of the room and looking around, not saying a single word. You lingered behind her awkwardly, not knowing what to do.
- Sooo, would you like some coffee? - you started tentatively, playing with your thumbs to busy your hands with something.
- The fuck is happening, Y/n? - Valeria asked harshly, turning around on her heels to fully face you.
- Pardon? - you asked, your eyes widening at the sudden aggression in her voice.
Valeria sneered at your lost expression, looking at the wall behind you and inhaling deeply through her nose, trying her best to control her rage. This woman had a short temper, and you perfectly knew it, internally preparing yourself for a shouting marathon. You watched Valeria close her eyes, taking another deep breath, before saying in a eerily calm tone:
- You’ve been avoiding me. For a month now. Why?
Oh. So she did notice.
You stood there, like a deer caught in the headlights, as Valeria looked expectedly at you.
- So? - she pressed, cocking one of her dark eyebrows as silence went on for far too long. You gulped, trying to swallow a heavy lump constricting your throat, your waterline burning with bitter tears.
- Because I don’t know how to feel about you, - you uttered quietly, your voice small and weak, trembling ever so slightly. You tried controlling your breathing in a weak attempt of calming yourself down, not to let hot tears fall down your cheeks, especially in front of her.
- The fuck is that supposed to mean? - Valeria barked, making you wince slightly. She regretted it immediately, taking yet another deep breath to cool down, waiting patiently for your reply.
You hesitated. Should you tell her the truth? Or you could use an excuse of being busy with your studies, it seemed like it worked perfectly with Valeria. Or so you thought, anyways.
It was now or never - at this point, after you avoiding her for several weeks and this exact conversation happening, your relationship with Valeria would never be the same. So you decided to rip the bandaid off in one harsh move - painful at first, but it’ll be way easier in the future.
- I have feelings for you. Strong feelings. And I decided to end it before it got way too out of hand.
Ringing silence fell between the two of you. Valeria looked at you dumbfounded. Wait, what? Did you just confessed to her? That means that you actually, actually, liked her back?
Garza just stared at you silently, and you felt sick to the bottom of your stomach. You couldn’t control your tears anymore, feeling them flow down your cheeks freely. You quickly turned away, rubbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, angrily wiping salty tears away. Anger was bubbling inside of your chest - this is so stupid, stupid, stupid!
You heard footsteps behind you and suddenly a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist, Valeria’s warm body pressed against your shuddering back, molding against you. She rested her forehead against your shoulder, rubbing her face against soft material of your bathrobe, arms squeezing you a tad tighter in a hug.
- Princess, you don’t know how much I wanted to hear you say it, - she murmured against your skin, inhaling a lungful of your sweet scent. Your head snapped to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Valeria.
- What..?
In a swift move the turned you around, warm hands resting on both your cheeks, thumbs wiping your tears away. Before you knew it her plump lips were slotted snugly against yours, sending electric shocks running up and down your spine, electricity tingling on your fingertips. You gasped softly before she broke away, leaning back just enough to have a proper look of your flushed pretty face. Without fully realizing what you were doing you leaned forward, once again meeting her lips with yours, arms wrapping around her shoulders to keep her as close to you as humanly possible.
So that’s how relationships between you two started. You two never actually settled sugar mommy/sugar baby dynamic, but with the age difference and all the money Valeria had from running a cartel?? Baby, you get whatever you want.
Valeria literally spoils you rotten - any jewelry, expensive makeup or clothing piece you may want - you most certainly get it. She also loves to take you to pretty locations like Italy, Spain, Jamaica - you name it. Your vacations never last long due to her work, but it’s enough to make some amazing memories together. But spoiling also goes to some extend - you want another car? Cariño, you already have three new pretty sport cars in garage - the answer is a firm NO.
And speaking of work - Valeria wants you as far from it all as well. It’s most likely you don’t even have any idea of what she’s doing for life. You guess that it’s something illegal - considering all the conspiracy and amount of money Valeria makes. But you don’t think too much into that; Valeria wants you away from all this dark business - so you do just that.
Valeria has a pretty tight schedule, not always having time for sleep, not saying anything about time to spare for you. That means that when she does have free time she expects you to be right there with her, no matter what you were previously occupied with. College? - Skip it. Family gathering? - Babe, you see them pretty often anyways, now get your precious ass over to her. Of course it annoys you as well sometimes, but Valeria genuinely doesn’t see anything wrong with her behavior so you have to patiently explain to her that you can’t always come to her at her smallest whim, causing pretty nasty arguments by that.
Valeria is very possessive. Whenever you extremely one of your friends that you’re really close with? God, it just turns some switch inside of her - her smile disappears, jaw clenching slightly and her whole body goes a bit rigid. She wants you all to herself, she wants you to only think about her and no one else. She knows that it’s wrong, that she shouldn’t feel this way, but she simply can’t help it! You are so smart and kind and pretty and charming - it’s hard NOT to fall for you! It takes lots of reassurance from your side to soothe Valeria’s pointless worries, proving over and over throughout the night that she’s the only one for you, the only one that can make you feel so loved and needed.
Valeria definitely gave you a cute golden choker, inlaid with lots of pretty gemstones. She loves seeing you wearing it - not only it goes well with most of your cute outfits; “mommy’s princess” engraved on the inner side of it translated onto your skin prettily, staying there for several minutes - bare sight of it makes Valeria’s mouth water, fingers twitching with want.
And speaking of sexual activities - I’m a firm believer that Valeria is a dom. Hard or soft - depends on her mood and your behavior. But this woman just doesn’t know how to bottom, not that she wants to. She loves her pretty pillow princess, loves to do all the work for you, having you at her complete mercy. You tried switching roles a few times, but every single time Valeria ended up pinning you down, absolutely ravaging you with her tongue, fingers or strap (or all together👀)
She’s VERY into pet play. Varelia absolutely adores tugging on the leash, making you whimper and ordering you around. Loves seeing you humping her leg like a desperate little pup, being so polite asking your mistress to finger your tight hole<3
Loves loves LOVES making you squirt!!! And don’t have any doubts, you WILL squirt with her! This woman just know how to make another woman cum in a matter of minutes. And all the cute sounds you make? God, it drives Valeria absolutely crazy!
Loves receiving sloppy slow heads. You sitting in between her spread legs, so desperate to please her. Your big doe eyes almost rolling back into your skull, tongue delved deep inside her pussy as you lick and lap at her seeping cunt, nose nudging her clit. Valeria buried her hands into your hair, tugging you towards herself, nearly choking you on her cunt.
And can you guess what Valeria’s favorite activity is? Scissoring you absolutely stupid early in the morning, her clit rubbing tightly against yours, your juices mixing, running down your thighs and ass. And make sure to give her a show, massaging your bouncy tits, pinching these perky nipples. Best way to wake up imho🥰
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Writers live off your feedback, give us some love and appreciation🩷
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yerimbrit · 14 days
Text
something new : n. kazuha
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synopsis: the five times your confession to kazuha was interrupted, and the one time it wasn't
# : pairing ! nonidol!nakamura kazuha x gn!reader
# : tags ! friends to lovers, ao3 5+1 trope, but there's some interludes, zuha's JUSTTT a little dense, the fimmies are your wingwomen, so is giselle and ningning from aespa, hs!au, crack, mentions of karina and winter too, in the end they are just two lovesick fools
# : wordcount ! 8.4k
# : warnings ! the usual swearing idt i'll be putting warnings for them anym
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"just tell her you like her," chaewon said, taking a bite of her salad, "i don't understand why you haven't."
you groaned in response. obviously chaewon didn't understand that what she was suggesting was exactly what you'd been trying to do since the beginning of time. emphasis on trying.
it wasn't your fault that kazuha was absolutely, terribly, agonizingly oblivious to your confessions to her—or at least your attempts to confess to her.
a sympathetic hand patted you on the shoulder, and you looked up to see sakura, who placed her tray on the cafeteria table. "attempts have been made, chae. that's exactly why they're complaining for the, i don't know, 100th time."
chaewon kicked sakura's foot under the table.
"whatcha guys talking about?" asked eunchae, who had just taken her seat next to you at the table. you only buried your face into your arms.
"y/n's just mad that kazuha can't take a hint," snickered chaewon.
sakura nodded, tapping your cheek so she could feed you a spoonful of rice. "kazuha's really dense."
"sometimes i can't tell if she's joking or not whenever i try."
you thought back to the last few times you confessed, shuddering. the most recent one was equally as bad as the previous ones. it was like everything never went your way at the worst times.
("kazuha, i like you," you said, holding both of the girl's hands in yours, looking into her eyes with your tired, but determined eyes.
her eyes widened, and you thought maybe, just maybe, she finally understood what you were saying. at this point, you didn't even care if she rejected you. despite the heartache it would bring you, at least she would know about your feelings.
"i like you too!" she said excitedly, and you perked up in disbelief. wow, today really was your lucky da—
she brought you into a tight hug. and the worst possible words she could've said, were said: "you're my best friend! i like you a lot!")
the bell rang after that, so you couldn't explain to her that you liked her as more than that, because the two of you were at the entrance of the gym, and kazuha's next class was on the third floor of the main building.
eunchae hummed thoughtfully, finger on her lip. then, she gasped, enlightened.
"i have an idea."
she ushered the three of you closer, all of you leaning forward to huddle in the middle of the table. you would've laughed how ridiculous you looked, but what eunchae whispered to the group was even more ridiculous.
"that's not going to work," you refused, adamantly shaking your head.
chaewon, sakura, and eunchae shared a knowing look.
"it doesn't hurt to try, y/nnie," laughed chaewon.
eunchae chimed in, "exactly! what if it does work?"
you furrowed your eyebrows, not liking what the girls were up to. "but—"
"let's try it, y/n." sakura smiled, looking at you with deadpan eyes. you knew those eyes. and those eyes meant that you weren't getting out of this situation. deflating, you lowered your head.
"okay."
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1. eunchae's idea: fall into her arms and confess (like in a romcom!) (romcoms are romcoms for a reason, eunchae.) (shut up!)
"please work, please work, please work," you chanted to yourself, tightly shutting your eyes and waiting for "the signal" from eunchae and chaewon. what the signal was, you didn't know. but you trusted your friends... maybe.
the sound of yunjin's boisterous laughter, and kazuha's quieter giggles echoed through the school hallway filled with hundreds of lockers, and you peeked from behind the corner to get a glimpse of the two. your eyes fearfully darted around in search of eunchae, because this was her idea, only to be pushed from behind by someone into the hallway that your incoming target was walking through.
"y/n! look out!" shouted eunchae, and you grimaced. 'that was their cue?'
then, you yelped, tripping over your own feet, because silly old you forgot to tie your own shoelaces. scrunching up your face, you prepared yourself for the inevitable faceplant you were about to do, and the next failure in your endeavor to tell kazuha your feelings.
"woah! are you okay, y/n?" a worried voice called. wait. that wasn't the cold hard floor you thought you were going to embrace.
'kazuha?' you thought, until you opened your eyes and saw a few long strands of dyed orange hair, following them up to the frowning face of huh yunjin, kazuha's best friend. but not kazuha.
squirming out of yunjin's secure grip, you widened your eyes, panicking. your gaze switched between the two volleyball players frantically. they both stared at you with a concerned look.
"i'm sorry!" you exclaimed, bowing so low you could see sakura's shocked face just behind you in the hall, then turning around and dashing to drag sakura with you anywhere but where you just embarrassed yourself.
kazuha called after you, hands cupped around her mouth, but you were already long gone.
"what was that about?" yunjin asked, looking to the japanese girl next to her for an answer. kazuha shrugged and sighed.
"wish i knew."
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"what the hell, eunchae, you said it would work!" you complained into your pillow. said girl was using your back to hold up her phone, which was playing an episode of single's inferno. chaewon sat next to her, more invested in the show than whatever you had going on.
the youngest pouted, jabbing her finger into your shoulder, earning her a grunt and a slap on the knee from you.
"well it would've worked if yunjin-unnie wasn't there," she whined in defense. she was right, but you didn't want to admit that, for the sake of your pride.
chaewon giggled. "it was pretty funny, though. at least you didn't hurt yourself."
your head, which was previously buried in your pillow, whipped around to shoot a menacing glare at the two chaes, lifting your hand to point an accusing finger at both of them.
"speaking of which, where were you guys?! i swear you ran off as soon as you yelled at me to watch out," you said, dropping your arm back onto your bed. eunchae and chaewon glanced at each other, then turned back to you, obnoxiously shrugging their shoulders in sync.
before you could get up and tackle your friends in a much-deserved tickle session, the door to your room creaked open, revealing sakura, and behind her, yunjin.
"why is it always you three? behave," sakura scolded, disappointment evident in her tone.
"sorry, sakura-unnie." "sorry, kkura-unnie..."
chaewon lightly slapped your back.
"ow!" you groaned, rubbing the affected area. she gave you a look, and you hesitantly turned around to look at the eldest girl.
"sorry, kkura-unnie."
sakura sighed, shaking her head. she set her book bag down by the foot of your desk, taking a seat on your swivel chair. yunjin sat on your fluffy rug, leaning her back against the bedframe.
you and yunjin were friends. she'd been over before, with kazuha, and would often join you and your friend group's movie nights. her open-minded personality allowed your conversations to jump topics, making every exchange interesting. although you weren't as close to her as kazuha was, you knew you could always come to her for advice, next to sakura.
yunjin and kazuha were both on the volleyball team. that's how the two of them met: during varsity tryouts, both of them called to receive the spike hit by yujin, a fellow freshman. in that short moment in between, neither of them moved to bump the ball, so it ended up bouncing on the court, resulting in a point scored by yujin. kazuha treated yunjin to an ice cream after practice as an apology, and the two of them hit it off.
aside from the volleyball-campfire-tryout fiasco with kazuha, yunjin was also close with chaewon, sharing multiple classes with her. the two usually gossiped over the recent transfer students, something mr. park did again, or how yet another girl fell victim to star basketball player lee heeseung and his playboy charms.
with eunchae, yunjin treated her as if she were her little sister. from babying her (to which eunchae grumbled about, saying that she was "grown now", but you all knew she secretly adored the older girl) to taking her out on spontaneous hangouts to give her a refreshing experience of the outside world. her and sakura bonded over it, taking care of the youngest together.
you cleared your throat, sitting up and pulling your knees close to your chest. "so, why is yunjin here?"
as you sat up, eunchae's phone fell off your back, and the two watchers both frowned. single's inferno could wait.
"because we forgot to tell her about the plan," sakura said in a matter-of-fact tone.
you cursed in your head. maybe if she was let in on the plan, you would've succeeded, and you wouldn't have to try to confess again.
"speaking of plans," chaewon raised her hand, imitating a student about to ask a question. you snorted, and pointed at her, allowing her to speak again.
she nodded at you, a grin spreading on her face. "it's raining in two days, on friday. zuha usually walks with you after school every other day, right y/n?"
you nodded slowly, making a 'hurry-up' gesture with your hand. she rolled her eyes.
"since she's walking with you, why don't you go ahead and share an umbrella? that could be the perfect opportunity for you to tell her."
("hold on, she's cooking."
"stop learning from yunjin, please eunchae."
"what do i have to do with this!?")
"you know what. that doesn't sound that bad, coming from you," you said, not caring that you just casually threw some shade at chaewon.
"hey, what's that supposed to mean!"
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2. chaewon's idea: share an umbrella under the showers of afternoon spring rain
"it's raining," kazuha pouted, holding her hand out to feel the rain landing on her fingers.
you gulped. this was it.
"y-yeah, it is," you nervously giggled, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants.
the girl beside you hummed, and glanced at you. "should we wait for it to stop?"
hearing her words, you fumbled around for the umbrella in your schoolbag. "it's, it's okay. i have an umbrella," you held the object up to her once you finally found it, "see?"
"oh," she simply nodded, stretching her hand out for you to give to her.
the two of you started walking into the onslaught of rain. kazuha's shoulder started getting wet, and you hurriedly grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to you.
"you'll get sick, dummy," you nagged, a pout on your face. she pinched your cheek and smiled, not making a move to pull away from your hold. butterflies swarmed your stomach.
"it's okay! as long as you stay dry."
damn this girl. why did you have to fall for someone who's so dense? after all these years of trying (and failing) to get your crush to acknowledge your romantic feelings toward her, she still didn't get it?
under your umbrella, the two of you were closer than ever. today was the first day of spring, though instead of warm sunshine, there was the pouring rain. winter felt like it had yet to say goodbye.
the cold air blew at your legs as kazuha maneuvered you around deep puddles on the paved sidewalk, careful not to have you step in one knowing you hated having wet socks.
when you realized what she was doing you flushed, heart accelerating at unnatural speeds, and you suddenly forgot how to breathe when you thought about confessing. the sensation came every time you confessed, but for some reason, this time it was ten times worse.
'okay, focus.' you tried to calm your breathing, taking deep breaths and squeezing kazuha's arm tighter.
the girl turned to you with a questioning look. "something wrong?"
you quickly shook your head and directed your gaze to the ground. you didn't know why you were struggling so much today. maybe it was the pouring rain, or maybe it was the fact you were so close together. maybe it was how she always earnestly took your interests to heart, or maybe...
suddenly, a rushing car zoomed past both of you, speeding over a large puddle. before you could even blink, kazuha switched her umbrella to the other hand, and pulled you into the safer side of the sidewalk, bracing herself for the impact of the puddle water soaking her jacket and uniform.
your heart stopped when she moved you, not processing what was happening. all you knew was that kazuha unexpectedly grabbed you and yanked you away, and now she was soaking wet.
you stammered, "are- are you okay?! wha... you're soaked! why'd you do that?"
the girl took a moment to catch her breath, slightly hunching over while still covering your head with the umbrella. your heart ached. ever so caring, kazuha was. even after she got drenched with rainwater (you cursed the car in your head), she was still making an effort to protect you from the rain.
kazuha gulped, her throat bobbing up and down. then, she stood up straight and looked at you, concern pooling in her eyes.
"are you okay? you're not hurt, are you?" she asked, trying to find any discomfort you could've showed.
you furrowed your eyebrows. was she being serious? she got splashed with water, to... to protect you! and now her favorite zip-up hoodie was ruined, and her uniform skirt was still dripping, and, you shuddered, her shoes and socks were wet. all because she wanted to keep you safe and dry.
you almost cried right then and there. how could you not like her?
"i'm okay. don't worry about me... but now you're all wet," you pointed out, "you can change at my house, i think you still have some clothes in my closet."
she hummed, face melting into a closed-eye smile, making you want to cup her cheeks and just kiss her like you'd always wanted.
you resume walking, your arm automatically looping with hers again, even though she told you that you would also get wet. the two of you fell back into a rhythm of avoiding puddles and making small talk in between. you almost forgot you were going to confess.
you looked around your surroundings, playing with your phone charm inside your jacket pocket. it was always something you did when you were nervous, to fidget with something. the dangly charm you bought with your friends on your class trip to jeju island was the more recent addition to the list.
"um, zuha?" you hesitantly started, "i actually do have something on my mind."
the japanese girl widened her eyes and nodded. "what's up, you feeling okay?"
her caring nature made it harder for you to confess. and now things you thought during the first few confessions were cycling through your mind again. what if she didn't like you like you did? what if you stopped being friends? would she be disgusted?
you swallowed the anxiety down, and took a few deep breaths for extra measure. "for a long time now, i-"
"ha! how you like that! you-" kazuha's ringtone went off, interrupting your (almost) confession. she frowned and put it on silent, then glancing back at you so you could finish what you were saying. more anxiety bubbled up.
"i-"
"ha! ho-"
groaning, she flashed you an apologetic smile and pressed the accept button on her phone. you stood there awkwardly and defeatedly, choosing to pass the time by looking around your surroundings. it took you a few moments to realize that you were already standing at the driveway of your own house.
when did that happen?
"seriously? ah, come on. i've already walked," kazuha grumbled to the person on the other side of the line. you'd already let go of her arm when she answered the call, unaware of your crush's disappointed eyes at your actions.
"okay, fine. why didn't anyone tell me?" she irritatedly asked. "no i didn't get the email, yujin, you know i barely check it."
after a few more lines exchanged between kazuha and the other person, (who you knew now was yujin) the japanese girl hung up with a tired sigh.
"y/n, i'm sorry, i can't stay this time. coach kang moved tomorrow's weekend scrimmage to today because she's visiting her dad tomorrow."
you could only sink your shoulders in dismay. "ah..."
there goes your confession. again.
"you should take the umbrella with you though. we're already here," you gestured to your doorway, "at my house."
kazuha pursed her lips and nodded.
"let me at least walk you to the door."
"okay."
this time, you didn't make an effort to keep kazuha out of the rain, feeling sullen. not that she minded, it allowed her to fully cover your head instead.
instead of waving you goodbye like she always did, kazuha brought you into an abrupt hug. "...bye, y/n," she mumbled into your hair, and left a fleeting kiss on your forehead.
then, she took off, leaving you dumbfounded and alone in the doorway of your home.
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"okay, what the actual fuck," you said to your tablet, your friends on facetime.
sakura, who was in a heated match of overwatch, hummed disapprovingly as she clicked and mashed her keyboard furiously. "stop swearing in front of eunchae."
"sorry, mom."
"what happened, though? you've been repeating the same thing for the past 10 minutes," said chaewon, "did my plan work?"
eunchae nodded, the hair roller she was using on her bangs shaking with the movement. "yeah, did it? i can't tell if your reaction is positive or not."
you took a deep breath as you massaged your temples. "i don't know. on one hand, i couldn't confess because we got interrupted again, on the other hand..." you paused.
"what? tell us," urged sakura. it looked like she finished her game. she must've won, judging by the contented smile she had on her face, and the chirpy tone her voice held that you could hear through the crackly audio of your ipad.
"we were in front of my house, she hugged me and kissed me on the forehead. i don't know if this is a sign or not," you sighed.
"it's a sign," yunjin confidently said. it was her first time speaking in the call, despite it being almost 20 minutes since you impulsively facetimed the groupchat.
she rested her white mechanical pencil behind her ear and grinned. then, she went back to typing away at her laptop, not elaborating on her cryptic answer.
"what does that mean, yunjin-unnie?" the youngest asked, to no avail. the volleyball player had muted herself and started to scribble something down while scrolling on her computer.
you clicked your tongue. this behavior was unusual for yunjin; she was usually the most talkative, but today she kept to herself. she seemed to be deep in thought.
"um, okay," you coughed, "kkura-unnie, you said you had a plan right?"
she smiled, stretching out her arms. (you swore you heard a few cracks) "sure i do. i think it'll be fun."
"that's what eunchae and chaewon said, but look where we are now."
"just trust me, y/n."
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3. sakura's idea: take a pottery class together (and have a heartfelt conversation as you shape clay) ("i don't have-") ("you make me pay all the time, obviously i'm paying for the class.") ("...")
you know what, maybe this will work out. sakura's idea was pretty sound, romantic, and wasn't something you usually did with kazuha.
it was saturday. the class was booked for 12 pm. you got up at around 9:30, got ready, and were now killing time in your room as you waited for kazuha to arrive.
today you were wearing an outfit that you had put out last night, after hours of deciding with the help of yunjin and sakura. (it was really just something you found from pinterest that you tried to replicate with the clothes in your closet) but combined with it was this silver star necklace that the girl of your affections gifted you for your birthday.
you only took it out on special occasions, terrified you were going to lose it or break it if you wore it too often. usually, you kept it in its box on your nightstand, sometimes taking it out to admire or while thinking of kazuha.
...maybe that was tmi.
pacing around your room, you bit your nail as you awaited a text from your date friend. kazuha was going to pick you up for a quick brunch before you set off for the pottery studio located in the central city area. for brunch, you were going to a café you frequented that some of your friends worked at. (minjeong and jimin usually gave you discounts that you and your light wallet thanked them for. they also tried to help you with your crush, but those attempts were something to talk about another day.)
"ding!" your phone beeped. you rushed over to your phone at the speed of light, only to see it was a notification from sakura detailing your booking information.
groaning, you unceremoniously fell onto your bed. it was still early, only about 10:30, and the meeting time was 11, but kazuha would always be early, insisting that she should pick you up from your home because that was the "least she could do." such a gentlewoman, she was.
your phone beeped again, and you were about to set it to 'do not disturb' in the midst of your moping, until you turned the device over to see that kazuha was the one texting.
from: zuha 🦢💙 im at your door :]
yelping, you scrambled for your bag and made sure you looked presentable as you dashed to your apartment door. before you opened it, you checked yourself for the second time on your phone camera for anything that could possibly harm kazuha's image of you.
and there she was, in all her glory. wearing a cropped shirt with a white and black flannel on top, combined with gray canvas pants held up by a black grommet belt. it seemed to compliment your outfit, in a way. 'maybe yunjin helped her with her outfit, too,' you surmised, shaking your head at the thought.
"hey!" she greeted, shyly waving her hand. you'd been through this process countless times, but you both always acted like it was the first time.
"hey," you mirrored, stepping out of your home and locking the door behind you. your hand gravitated toward kazuha's, the action not going unnoticed by the girl, and she took the initiative and interlocked your fingers together. you coughed into your other fist in an attempt to cover your blushing face.
you made your way out of the apartment complex, to the parking lot. the japanese girl led you to a pristine white convertible, opening the passenger's side for you and jogging over to get in the driver's seat. your hands had to part briefly, but once she sat down, her hand found yours again.
pushing the the start button, kazuha put her seatbelt on and grinned at you, revving the engine a few times. you laughed, shaking your head when she made a satisfied face while nodding her head.
"dad let me borrow for today. said he was counting on me and to treat you right," she recounted, "so hopefully i'm doing something right."
"you are, don't worry," you answered, but really what you wanted to say was, 'you always do, without even trying. making me feel like the luckiest person alive with just a laugh. just a smile.'
and off you went downtown. kazuha handed you the aux cord, and you sang along to some of your favorite tunes on the way there. eventually, you made it to the café, sliding in the small designated parking area. kazuha went around and opened the door for you, again, and you walked through the entrance.
minjeong was at the counter, no jimin in sight, but she offered you a teasing smile at the sight of you and kazuha together.
"welcome! will both of you be having the usual?" she asked, resting her hands on the counter.
your date(?) turned to you, and you nodded. "yeah, just the usual," she replied to minjeong, then adding, "we'll also have two... egg drop sandwiches."
minjeong entered your orders in the system, kazuha paid, and the familiar barista handed you your receipt. before you left to secure a table, she gave you a look that screamed "you have to tell me all about it later." you timidly smiled back.
the two of you sat in your usual spot, a table for two in a quiet corner next to the window facing the bustling streets of downtown seoul. it was where you had your study sessions and hangouts with kazuha, and close enough to occasionally talk to jimin and minjeong during their breaks.
speaking of jimin, you were wondering where she was. her and minjeong were usually on the same shift. you'll ask later, when your orders came.
for now, you observed the girl sitting across from you, who had started folding the receipt into an origami crane. she was very focused, tongue slightly sticking out as she meticulously folded the thin paper. she always did this, making cranes out of your receipt from the café. and she always left the finished product on the table, for the employees to add to the stack of cranes hanging on the selfie wall that she had made on previous visits.
once she was done, she placed it in the middle of the table, giving it a few taps to the top of its head with her finger. her eyes met yours, and you flinched, being caught staring.
"how's your morning, so far?" she asked with a dopey grin, arms now resting on the polished surface of the table. it took you a couple of seconds to process her words, eyes still tracking her movements.
"it's been," you coughed, reminded of the inner turmoil you had just an hour ago, "fine, better since you came, zuha."
nice going, you! yunjin would've been proud of that one. you'd say eunchae and chaewon too, since they're always watching those k-dramas that you get roped into, but yunjin always managed to say those cheesy pickup lines with a straight face... at least for a few seconds.
but it seemed to have worked because the girl across from you had a light blush on her face. she played with a few strands of her hair, her smile growing by the second.
"that was smooth," she remarked, letting her hand linger on top of yours for a few moments. now, it was your turn to blush. was she trying to kill you!?
time passed and your drinks and food came, you and her making small talk as you enjoyed your sandwiches. nothing really interesting happened, the brunch went on as usual, with kazuha stealing a bite of your sandwich (even though she had the exact same thing, saying it tasted better because it was yours) and you taking selfies with her.
(after asking minjeong, apparently jimin was out sick, so the younger girl was left alone, much to her irritation.)
eventually you left after finishing everything you ordered, walking out to the parking lot together. it was nice out, the sun peeking our behind fluffy clouds, and a refreshing breeze dancing at your feet.
"the sandwiches were super good," kazuha remarks, kicking a stray pebble in front of her. "but you know what sounds good right now?"
she opened the car door for you, and walked over to the other side so she could sit on the opposite side.
"what?" you raised an eyebrow, even though you already knew what she was going to say next.
"greek yogurt!" you both said, your shared laughter now echoing within the car.
she started the engine and started to pull out of the parking space, still giggling quietly. "maybe we can get some after the pottery class."
you hummed, stashing the receipt from earlier into the glove box. "yeah, we should."
the drive from the café to the studio was a short ride away, and the two of you spent it belting out the lyrics to 'lovesick girls' by blackpink. it was one of the must-play songs whenever you were on the road with each other; a ride wouldn't feel complete without it.
the lyrics didn't have a special meaning to you, per se. it was just the first song that started playing the first time you and kazuha shared earbuds. the japanese girl happened to be a major blackpink fan, and while you weren't particularly into the group, lovesick girls was a good song. after that day, it became routine to listen to it at least once when you were with her.
when the two of you pulled up to the pottery studio, you breathed out a 'thank you' to sakura in your head. because there was no way your broke ass could afford this place. it blended in with the buildings around it, sleek and modern, and it seemed to be a hotspot for couples on dates.
"welcome!" the employee at the studio bowed. the place was quite sophisticated, charmingly decorated but still managing to keep a homey atmosphere.
you followed them to the front desk, pulling up the information that sakura sent you in the midst of your earlier morning misery. "we have a session for 12?"
the employee nodded, scanning the barcode that was included in the email.
"y/n?"
"that's me," you awkwardly waved. kazuha stifled a laugh, and you nudged her shoulder.
you were both led to a more suited area for working with clay, which was a room that looked much more like a workshop than the neat and tidy reception that you were just at.
"all the tools are over here," the person gestured to a shelving system with clear labels of which tools went where, "and any clay you want to use is over here."
"the paints are next to the clays," they looked down at their wristwatch, "your session is booked until 2, have fun!"
and off they went, skipping right back to the reception desk humming a tune you've never heard before. did... did they just leave you?
your 'date' cleared her throat, looking to you as if you had an answer to the unspoken question that lingered in the air. well, you were dragged to those lessons by eunchae and yunjin twice before, so maybe sakura was planning for you to teach kazuha?
you set your bag down, sighing. "well, let's get started, i've done this before so i think i know what to do?"
she followed, putting her phone down next to the pottery wheel that was already on the table.
a good 15 minutes passed and you showed the girl the basics of working with clay on the wheel. thankfully you both have gone through the tortures and wonders of art class, so there was no need to teach her the ABCs of clay. but the wheel was quickly disregarded when you mentioned you wanted to make a pinch pot, and kazuha, ever the easily influenced, wanted to make one too. there goes part of sakura's plan...?
so you sat across from her, working on a pinch pot that you intended to be in the shape of a cat, while she was trying to make one of moomin. at least that's what she told you—it looked more like a lump attached to the side of the pot, but you weren't going to say that to her face when she looked so proud of herself.
"so, kazuha," you started, carving a feline expression onto your pot, "i have something to tell you."
the girl hummed, not looking up from her own project. she was currently chipping off bits of the edges of clay with a scalpel.
"you mean a lot to me, you know," a deep breath, "truly amazing. you're so talented, and kind, even though you're really dorky and sometimes i feel like you were sent from space- in a good way! it's cute..."
"...but i guess what i'm trying to say, as someone who admi- kazuha!?"
in the middle of your speech, kazuha had accidentally flung a piece of clay into her eye. was she caught off? you didn't know, well, more like you didn't care because you needed to call an ambulance, asap.
"i'm, i'm fine, i think," she hissed, her body betraying her words when her eye started watering an irregular amount and her eye was bloodshot when you could finally see it opened.
you shook your head, biting your lip as you texted the groupchat about what had happened, and took kazuha's keys as you dragged her out with you to the parking lot. luckily, you got your license last month so you should knew what you were doing.
jesus.
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"you're going to smash your skull into that desk, y/n."
you felt two taps on your head and the desk respectively, and briefly glanced up to see your classmates aeri and yizhuo looking at you like you were a cow in space.
and so you continued knocking your head against the cheap wood. maybe it'll get bluetoothed to kazuha, making her realize that you liked her. or something.
you collapsed into the nest of what was your hoodie and arms, and let out a muffled scream.
aeri pursed her lips and patted you on the head in sympathy. "is it kazuha again?"
"it's so kazuha again," yizhuo dragged out. yizhuo had a very punchable face.
you swatted at the cheerleader, scowling. "can you shut up? i swear nothing goes well when it's just me and her."
it's been a week since the clay incident, when you took her to the emergency room. all was fine after the doctor checked her eye and prescribed her some eye drops to use over the course of two weeks. kazuha said that she was feeling okay in the physical sense, but it was pretty traumatizing for her (and you) to be in that situation.
"i'm all out of ideas. should i give up?" you asked, searching for any hint of disagreement in both of the girls' eyes.
they shared a look, and turned back to you. "how about baking cookies?" proposed aeri, grabbing a carton of strawberry milk from her bag and placing it on your desk. you accepted it gratefully, taking a sip almost immediately.
"cookies! i bet she would love those. what if you baked together? you should bake together."
baking. not your strongest suit. the last time you baked, you were banned from the kitchen for a month. but, well, that was because you were messing around with eunchae, and this time you would probably buy a cookie mix from the convenience store. you liked to think you were great at following instructions.
it was worth a shot, though. and you were willing to do anything. except maybe trying to tell her upfront again. that would be too easy. and you liked to torture yourself... for no reason(?)
"i'll try it. thanks, you two. if it goes well, i'll give you some cookies as a token of my gratitude."
yizhuo smiled. aeri looked away.
"we'll have to take a raincheck on that."
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4. aeri and yizhuo's idea: bake cookies together! (and sneak in a little smooth "i love you" while you're at it!)
"what made you want to bake cookies all of a sudden, y/n?"
you felt a drop of sweat on your forehead. you and kazuha were getting bowls from the cabinet and ingredients from your fridge. your parents were out tonight, to your relief. not that their presence was unwelcome, but even they were tired of the waiting game with the girl you liked.
the sound of the metal bowls clacking against each other alarmed kazuha, causing her to peek out from the door of the fridge.
"no reason... i just felt like making them. with you! yeah."
"okay... how many eggs do we need?"
you checked the back of the box. "just one."
"okay! ...ow."
it seemed that when she closed the door of the fridge, she had forgotten that her head was there too. how did you predict this? many, many experiences. like how she accidentally let the door slam against her hand, which was holding a can of dr pepper, which then caused her to drop said can, leading to a huge mess on the tiled floor.
she looked at you with a pout, but now holding a singular egg and a stick of butter.
...this was going to be a long day.
...
okay, well maybe not long. it wasn't going that badly, actually. by not bad you mean you were now sitting at the kitchen island with kazuha, waiting for the butter to melt in the microwave. she'd already gotten the egg and water, and you had gotten a bowl and some vanilla extract to mix with the pre-made cookie mix.
it said to soften the butter, but neither of you knew what the difference between softening it and melting it was, so... here's hoping your kitchen doesn't burn down again! and here's hoping that minjeong wouldn't feel offended at your lack of knowledge about baking. that girl could bake a mean cake. and a mean punch.
"you're a great person, y/n," she said, reaching over to rest her hand over yours. you felt the tips of your ears burn at the action. where was this going? wasn't this your line?
then she gave you her signature smile, so warm it could melt you, and you felt like you were actually about to melt into the bar stool.
she squeezed your hand, redirecting her gaze to the counter that she was leaning against. "and i just want to say thank you for taking care of me. and that i really, really..."
you furrowed your brow. "really... what?"
she pointed to the microwave. you glanced over to where she was pointing, and squinted at it to see that there was a flame forming on top of the foil of the small bowl you put the butter in.
wait.
"oh my god, fire! kazuha, get the fire extinguisher, it's on the wall next to the balcony door!"
she rushed to get the tool, preparing to spray as you opened the microwave.
some of the foam got in your face, and you coughed, trying to wave it away from you. kazuha went a little overboard.
did you jinx yourself with the "here's hoping your kitchen doesn't burn down again"? yeah. were you surprised? no.
the athlete cautiously grasped the bowl with an oven mitt, slowly pulling it off of the glass dish. the foil was charred, and she pulled it open to reveal butter that was definitely melted. to the point that it had turned into liquid.
first of all, why did you microwave the butter with the foil on? second of all, why did you even microwave it for that long? you suddenly regretted the decision that the two of you had made to let it melt, soften, or whatever for five minutes.
you sighed, dropping your forehead to the counter. "sorry, zuha. i guess the cookies are a fail for today."
"it's okay, y/nnie," she shook her head, patting your back.
after you cleaned up failure #2 (#1 being the aforementioned cake with eunchae), you watched a few episodes of the latest k-drama with kazuha that night before she went home.
plan d of operation: ILYKZH was, undoubtedly, a fail.
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karaoke was a place you and your friend group frequented. at first you avoided it like the plague, but with some convincing from your friends, you've grown comfortable with it.
with all the food and dessert you could order, and free entertainment, (watching sakura sing yet another red velvet song while chaewon and eunchae clap along) who wouldn't like karaoke? though it was mostly the pizza that kept you there. there has got to be some sort of secret ingredient they use.
it was your weekly visit to the usual place, and this time yunjin was accompanying you. you didn't know why she was, but she always paid whenever she came with you guys, so you didn't mind.
the group ordered their drinks, and of course the deluxe pizza and fries combo, and sakura was already looking for the next red velvet song to sing. you smiled fondly at the sight, watching the youngest try to convince her to pick another artist, even though you all knew it wasn't going to happen.
"do you think kkura-unnie's ever gonna stray away from her favorite group?" yunjin tapped your shoulder. you rested your chin on your palm and pretended to think, the american laughing at you soon after. it seemed the answer was delivered telepathically.
"maybe..." you glanced at the eldest, who was now singing a duet with chaewon of 'one of these nights', "...not."
"oh yeah, i have something for you," she reached into her purse, pulling out two slips of paper and presenting them to you.
you narrowed your eyes at her, "what're these? and what for?"
"they're tickets, silly! to the aquarium. i got them from theater club, but i don't need them. why not take zuha out?"
pause. should you trust yunjin? she'd been pretty quiet about your ordeal(s) involving the girl you liked, so who knew what she was planning?
but then you remembered the kitchen that was set on fire just three days ago, and so you took the pair of tickets from her hand anyway.
an invisible spark of understanding flared as you shook her hand.
plan e (e, really?) of operation: ILYKZH was a go.
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5. yunjin's idea: go on an aquarium date, accompanied by the deep blue and the jellyfish
"be good, okay?" sakura said to you as you stepped out of the car, shielding your eyes from the glare of the sun.
you playfully scrunched up your nose. "you sound like my mom."
she stuck out her tongue at you, and you had half a mind to get back into the vehicle to flick her on the forehead.
"do it this time, y/n," she reminded you. not that you needed a reminder—the past four attempts were already enough of one.
but, still, she was right. if things didn't go well this time then you might just give up. it had almost been a year since you started trying to confess, after all.
the car door closed with a thump, and you waved at sakura through the window.
now, it was time to wait for kazuha. the girl was bound to arrive any moment now, since it was nearing the meetup time. usually, she'd get there before you, but yunjin probably gave her a ride, and yunjin was known to be a very punctual individual; she always arrived at the exact scheduled time, no earlier, no later.
the time on your phone hit 2:00 pm, and as expected, yunjin's gray SUV pulled up to the parking lot, kazuha in tow. they exchanged some words as they walked up to you, but you couldn't make out anything they were saying.
"hey, y/n!" the american waved to you, lightly pushing the other girl forward, to which she protested to.
"hi, y/n," she said quietly, bashfully scratching her neck. you covered your mouth with your hand to hide your giggles.
"hi kazuha, yunjin! right on time, as per usual."
yunjin nodded, "you know me. well, i hope you two have fun, send me pictures of the fish!"
...and she left.
now it was only you and kazuha, standing in front of the entrance to the aquarium.
"you..."
"huh?" you slightly flinched as she gently held your star pendant, caressing it like it was the most fragile thing on earth.
she softly smiled, looking deeply into your eyes. "you're wearing the necklace."
your heart burst into flames. maybe now was a good time to call sakura to come pick you up with the excuse of having heart palpitations. wait, no, y/n! you have to go on!
hurriedly turning away, you gestured to the glass doors of the building. "let's head in!"
in all honesty, you'd already been here more than a few times, and you'd practically memorized layout of the place. kazuha, however, hadn't, this being her first visit to the aquarium since moving to seoul.
so you let yourself be whisked away by the athlete, wandering through the many, many habitats in one of the biggest aquariums in korea. the two of you stopped by the gift shop, kazuha buying you one of the giant shark plushies, and of course you had to take tons of pictures with it in the shark tunnel.
after clearing most of the sections, you ended up going back to the jellyfish exhibits.
"they're just so interesting, the way they just float around, you know?" she said, face illuminated by the blue light of the tank.
you took a moment to admire the sight, stepping closer to observe the moon jellies alongside her. "i get you," you smiled, eyes following the jellies in no particular order. "they're so pretty. especially with the tank lighting."
kazuha turned her head to look at you, a grin spreading on her face as well. "wait, don't move."
in a second, all you could hear was your own thumping heart as the girl's thumb picked something off your face. her own face was incredibly close to yours, her breath fanning your lips as she leaned even closer to you.
"y/n, i..."
at some point (you didn't remember) you felt your eyelids falling shut, anticipating the feeling of her lips on yours.
...but that feeling never came.
"sir, get out of the tank, please! sir!"
the murmur of the crowd behind you became louder, security and staff rushing to another section of the aquarium, shouting warnings one after another.
you jumped away from kazuha, whipping your head around to see the man fighting off two staff members inside one of the tanks, people gathering around it to record the scene.
"what the hell..." you mumbled, turning back to the girl you almost kissed. she looked at you with furrowed brows, a confused expression on her face, similar to yours.
you shifted on your feet, pursing your lips. "we should get out of here. before," you pointed at the situation behind you which one would only deem as utterly ridiculous, "any of that gets worse."
she nodded, and the both of you speed walked to the exit of the building, choosing not to talk about what had happened before you got interrupted. you called sakura, and kazuha called yunjin, and you found yourself in front of the entrance again like in the morning.
that night, you let your dreams finish the moment for you.
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+1.
you, sakura, eunchae, chaewon, yunjin, and kazuha all stood in front of the ferris wheel at everland. it was late—the sun was long gone, replaced by the glowing crescent moon.
the ferris wheel was a popular attraction, typically saved for the end of the day. and in your friends' words: the perfect confession spot. you'd already told them you were giving up after the last time, but they just wouldn't budge.
unsurprisingly, you and kazuha were somehow shoved into the cabin together.
as the cabin rose up into the air, you fidgeted with the star pendant resting on your chest. the ride was filled with awkward silence, the two of you sitting on opposite sides but looking away from each other.
you said you were giving up, but deep down you really hadn't. it was hard to stop liking someone you fell for two years ago. even now, your heart was still beating fast just looking at the girl. you wondered when, if ever, these feelings would stop. would you be happy?
the ride was now nearing the top, the night sky becoming more visible from the windows of the cabin.
"hey, y/n..." kazuha said, her voice breaking the silence. your gaze remained outside, unmoving, finding it hard to speak, but you answered regardless.
"yeah?"
"i like you too."
you'd nearly gotten a cramp at how fast your neck turned to meet kazuha's eyes.
"what?"
"i heard you and yunjin and sakura-unnie talking. about how you were going to give up on me, and i was so confused but i finally figured it out," she blurted out, suddenly feeling embarrassed at how quickly she said those words in succession. "and i know you've been trying to tell me but god, i'm so, so stupid."
"y/n," she moved to your side of the booth, taking your hands in hers. there was a mix of determination, honesty, and apology that you could clearly see in her eyes, putting you in a trance.
"i'm sorry it took me this long. but, i like you. so much that i can't sleep at night because all i can think of is you. so much that i spend hours and hours talking about you to yunjin, to the point where she's even blocked me because i just wouldn't stop. so much tha-"
peach. peach was what nakamura kazuha's lips tasted like, the peach flavored lip gloss that you got her on a whim on a random tuesday. your arms naturally looped around her neck, hers wrapping around your waist as she pulled you closer to her, lips moving against yours in a clumsy rhythm.
when you pulled away briefly, forehead resting on hers, she grinned.
"what are you smiling at?"
"you taste like vanilla soft serve."
you shook your head lightly in disbelief. "i had some earlier."
she huffed. "i know."
and her lips were on yours once again.
(when you came out from the cabin, hand in hand with messy hair and smudged lip gloss, you were met with four pairs of knowing looks.
sakura was the first to speak. "who said it?"
you and kazuha looked at each other in confusion. "uh, what?"
"who confessed!" chaewon groaned, puffing her cheeks up in impatience.
"kazuha did," you said before your now girlfriend could.
sakura and yunjin pumped their fists in the air, even going as far as giving each other a spirited hug. you smiled at the thought of them being happy for you and kazuha, until you saw eunchae and chaewon grumbling and pulling 50,000 won bills out of their wallets.
"you guys seriously bet on us?" the girl beside you asked, mouth agape.
"we waited two years, we might as well make something out of it!" the american said as she took the golden bill from chaewon, celebrating.
"unbelievable.")
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a/n : tell me to write something and i come up with something entirely different this is why i have like 8 wips
263 notes · View notes
fandomxpreferences · 1 year
Text
Knight in a Flight Suit
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female!reader
TW: swearing, violence, groping
Summary: You like to run your mouth and have no problem stepping up to a man. Why? Because you have your very own security guard.(Based off this post)
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: GIF is same energy just not fresh out of the shower. Also, you know that scene of Jax in sons of anarchy where he's smoking and suddenly throws a hook that sends the guy into another dimension? That's exactly what im imagining. 
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Over the years you've gained a reputation for being rather..feisty. Especially with men. You didn't get to where you are in your career by taking things lying down, and you've never had a problem going toe to toe with anybody.
Sure it's gotten you in some situations a few times, namely when you square up to a man whose mother didn't teach them not to hit women. But you've never had issues with holding your own. 
Then you met the dagger squad. If it wasn't your husband watching your back, it was Rooster. And if it's not Rooster it's Maverick. If not maverick, then Coyote, and so on. You basically have your own security team, so yea, you're pretty confident in your ability to talk shit to any man who looks at you the wrong way. 
Usually though, Jake is the only line of defense you need. Ever since the two of you started dating three years ago, a man hasn't gotten within five feet of you. It only amplified when you got married. Jake would set fire to the world if it meant keeping you safe, and he'd do it with a smile. Tonight is a perfect example of that. 
You're standing at the bar waiting for yours and Jake's beers when you feel a hand skim across your back about two inches too far south. You don't like someone touching you at all, but when the man's hand lingers on your ass and gives a light squeeze, you whip around to face him.
"Get your grimy fucking hands off of me." You smack his hand away and the man chuckles. "Looks like we've got a live one." He smirks and you see red. 
You size the man up, and he takes it as you checking him out. You don't correct him, usually playing the helpless victim works out in your favor. He's got maybe 40 pounds and half a foot on you but that's never stopped you before. 
He reaches out for your waist and you quickly step back to avoid him. At this point you're fairly certain you know how this will end and you're just playing along to see how far he'll take it. 
The man laughs and quirks his head to the side, clearly taking it as a challenge. "Playing hard to get, huh? That's fine, I like the chase." 
His grin reminds you of the Cheshire Cat and your face contorts in disgust. His smile drops when he sees your reaction and this time it's your turn to smirk. Let the games begin. 
You square your shoulders and straighten up to your full height. You go to take a step forward and the man's eyes darken. "You think you can fight me? I don't give a fuck you're a woman, I'll knock your ass clean out." He laughs. 
You watch him stand up straight and your eyes never leave his face, even as you have to adjust your angle to be looking up at him. Before either of you can say or do anything else, Jake is standing in front of you. 
He has his back to the man, forming a physical barrier and putting a few feet of space between the two of you. "What's going on here, sweet cheeks?" His eyes are glued to yours, never even looking at the man he'd most likely be in the parking lot with in the next five minutes. 
Your posture relaxes in his presence, knowing Jake just made whatever problem you were about to have his own. Your eyebrows shoot up as you gesture to the man behind him.
"Shrimp dick over there decided to grope me. When I didn't let it slide he threatened to knock me out cold." You explain, eyes still on the threat. 
The man points his finger angrily in your direction, ignoring the blonde pilot. "Watch your fucking mouth." 
Jake visibly tenses and you laugh at the man, fully aware of the mistake he just made. It's one thing for you to tell Jake about it, but for someone to have the balls to disrespect and threaten you in front of him? 
You shake your head at the man. "Now you've really got a problem." You mock and Jake slowly turns around. The two men are about the same size, though Jake is clearly more muscular. Not that it matters, Jake would lay a 10-foot giant out on their ass for talking to you like that. 
The only thing scarier than a loud angry Jake is a calm angry Jake. Every word and movement is precise and calculated. He stares the man down for a second before speaking slowly. 
"Apologize." He isn't asking, he's telling. "For what?" The man laughs and Jake feels his blood boil. 
"For touching my wife without her permission and then threatening to hurt her. And for swearing at a lady. Where I'm from those are justified grounds for murder." His voice is low and it sends shivers up your spine. 
"And if I don't?" The man scoffs and Jake takes another step forward, now fully in the stranger's personal space. "Then I'll make you." He cracks his neck and pops his wrists and elbows. That should've been this asshole's sign to walk away.
By now you've noticed a crowd forming and the rest of the dagger squad are making their way over. You see two men heading your way and can immediately tell they're this dick's backup. 
You reach forward and press a hand gently to his shoulder. "Jake." You try to get his attention but he doesn't take his eyes off his target. "I see them. I'm not worried about it." He knows he's got his own backup, and they outnumber the three men twofold.
You shake your head. "No, I know. It's Penny I'm worried about if you start a brawl in her bar." You feel Rooster and Maverick's presence and they push you behind them protectively. Phoenix interlocks her arm with yours and pulls you back further so neither of you are in the line of fire. 
The three men take in their opponents and weigh their options. After a couple minutes, the one that started it looks at you. "You're lucky you have backup, bitch."
Not even a second passes before you hear a loud crack followed by a thud. Your eyes widen at the heap laying on the ground. Jake threw a right hook from hell and the man was out before his body could catch up. You're no doctor, but you'd guess his jaw is broken. 
Jake doesn't even flinch at the impact, instead turning to the two remaining men. He doesn't bother to move back or put his hands up to block any attacks. Your body tingles when you realize it's because he's so confident that he doesn't even feel the need to play defense.
"Anyone else?" He smirks and the men quickly shake their heads and grab their friend to drag him out. Once the three of them are gone, the bar erupts in cheers. 
Jake turns to face you and you jump up in his arms with a squeal. He laughs and you start attacking his face with kisses. You pull back after a few seconds and he smiles brightly at you. 
Your eyes are filled with worry and you cup both of his cheeks. "Are you okay?"
Jake's heart swells at your concern for him and he gives you a sweet kiss. "Just fine, sweet cheeks. I've been boxing in the gym since you like to run your mouth so much." He smirks.
Your mouth drops open and you stare at him in disbelief. "You've been training to protect me?" He laughs at your reaction and slides his hands down to your ass. 
"I'd do anything to protect you. Sooner or later you're going to piss off the wrong person and I need to be sure I can beat the shit out of them." He shrugs. 
"Well aren't you my knight in shining armor?" You tease and Jake shakes his head. "More like knight in a flight suit." He smirks before continuing. 
"Seriously though, you don't need a knight to save you. You're a badass in your own right. But I wouldn't be a good husband if I let you fight your battles alone."
You smile at the sentiment and lean in for another kiss. "I love you. Thank you." He shrugs again and kisses you on your cheek. "I love you too sweets. You don't need to thank me, it's my pleasure." 
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@drakelover78
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Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*
*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.
Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:
as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)
while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates
Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)
That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:
***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.
I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***
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Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.
But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?
Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:
C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?
Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*
Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:
A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice
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A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…
Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:
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C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?
He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.
Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.
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A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*
And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:
SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed
(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)
I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?
"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.
In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.
And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.
So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.
If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.
"Then nothing has to change, does it?"
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batfambyval · 7 months
Text
okay. So.
Serious Red Robin theory coming.
Tim wasn’t put in the Lazarus Pit. But. That doesn’t mean they didn’t use it on him. The pit’s healing properties have been shown to work in small portions. Like, the healing is proportional to the amount of lw used.
The cave with the pit isn’t exactly a sterile environment. So either the pit was needed or it was an attempt to put Tim off balance, a psychological weapon. Though the White Ghost’s reaction to the assumption seems to dispute that. If the pit’s healing is proportional to the amount used it makes sense that the psychological effects are to, along with the duration of those side effects.
Ra’s had serious reasons to use the pit on Tim, between the additional room for emotional manipulation and Tim’s life threatening injury which wasn’t immediately treated and was in fact exacerbated like, a lot… yeah. Tim lost a lot of blood. He lost was stabbed in the organ that filters blood: meaning all your blood passes through your spleen. He was bleeding out, he should have died, he dragged himself and another person to a car, drove said car back to the city, and got them both up to the penthouse. Recovering from that would take a long time, he shouldn’t have survived at all. But he healed quickly and well, it isn’t an issue, it happened and it was over. I know we as a fandom like to have fun with Tim’s missing spleen and what that means but… canon didn’t and looking back I feel like there was a lot pointing at the pit being used in a much more insidious was, not just in the logistics of Tim’s recovery.
Ra’s was insanely trusting of Tim. Not just in his ability to do what he wanted but in his belief that Tim would ultimately come around to his way of thinking. Now, I can obviously see that Tim was in a very vulnerable position and if Bruce hadn’t actually been alive Ra’s could definitely have succeeded. But it feels like more than that, especially with Tim’s ensuing behavior. A lot of his time with the league is glossed over or seen from Tam’s perspective, but Tim was acting different. It’s easy to attribute this to the objectively terrible situation and the year he’s had, but his behavior isn’t the same as it was at the beginning of the run either. And the difference in behavior fades. As Red Robin Tim is more ruthless and pragmatic, mostly due to necessity. Even stealing from a museum and fighting for it makes him incredibly uncomfortable. He still did it. But he was still acting like Tim, making jokes and doing his best to diffuse the situation and keep everyone alive. After the surgery his focus gets even more single minded. He barely puts up a fight about leading the league. Of course partly for Tam, and he tried to keep killing to a minimum but cmon. He was leading the league of ASSASSINS. There were assassinations happening. People died when he blew all the league bases and he barely registered that beyond thinking that the council of spiders probably made it out, implying part of him knew death was a possibility and he didn’t care. But he didn’t think about the moral implications of that in a way that was very reminiscent of Jason’s selective morality. If he had stopped to think about it he wouldn’t have done it, but he was focused to much on beating Ra’s, on not compromising, that the complexity of the situation didn’t sink in. The obvious effects of his actions, the possible deaths and injuries of anyone inside a league stronghold wasn’t acknowledged while the underlying message sent to his opponent was the only thing he could think about. Just like when Jason attacked Tim at Titans Tower to send a message to Bruce despite his hardline stance against hurting kids.
So. The League did use the pit on Tim, just a little. Maybe two tablespoons in the wound to accelerate recovery and weaken his morals a bit. It would certainly make a lot of sense. And the writer did change when Tim came back to Gotham so it’s entirely possible that it was meant to be touched on later but was discarded.
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Text
V The Mysterious Wayne Family
Dick Grayson V Gotham - Chapter 2
“Why can’t I sit in the front seat?” Danny demanded to know, crossing his arms from the back of Dick’s car. 
Dick sighed, peering back at him with the rearview mirror. He’d been shaky as they escaped the apartment without getting attacked by the media. Did the idiot get sick? Was the media in this dimension such a big threat? 
Truthfully, Danny didn’t know a lot about this dimension, despite having lived in it for around a year. That year was spent almost entirely homeless, spending only the last few weeks with Dick. Otherwise, he was sleeping where he could, spending his days in libraries and conning people out of cash as a child medium. 
…Well, calling it “conning” was a bit of an overstatement. He did get people in contact with dead relatives and the like. He just… didn’t always quote them exactly, especially when it meant he could get enough money to eat for the day. 
“It’s unsafe, Danny, you know that.”
Danny glared at him from his booster seat, which put him perfectly at eye level so he could lock eyes with Dick with the rear-view mirror. He hated this whole situation: the booster seat, his age, needing to rely on an adult, the stupid media, the stupid police, the stupid Dick… Okay, he kinda liked the booster seat. It was based off of some hero—Superbman—who was an alien? But looked like a human?
That may be one of the biggest differences between this dimension and his hom–the dimension he was born in. Danny had been one of the only heroes back there, along with Valerie and Dani, if you could even call them heroes. In this dimension? There were hundreds. There were space aliens to normal people in costumes to other humans with powers, and while not all of them were heroes, a lot of them were. 
And Danny hated how easy they had it. 
Every day back in Amity Park was a fight for acceptance, a battle to convince people that yes, he was a ghost with good intentions, only for that trust to be lost the moment he wasn’t fast enough to stop a ghost from hurting someone, or got thrown through a wall trying to protect people. It was constantly one step forward and one step back, and nothing Sam or Tucker or Jazz said ever truly made him okay with it.
Despite everything, he hoped Amity Park was doing alright without him. He couldn’t go back—wouldn’t go back, even if he had an open portal and his powers, not after what happened—but hopefully they were doing okay. 
He hoped his rogues had listened and stayed away from the Fenton portal. For their own safety.
Like every time he thought of his pa–the Fentons, the scars across his chest flared up. They might have been long-healed, but the pain always lingered, a sharp lance that lingered in the thin skin of his wound. Fiddling around in his pocket, Danny found his juul and puffed. Exhaling, a bubble gum smoke filled the cabin as the CBD started to work its way into his blood. 
Dick coughed. “You know you won’t be able to do that in the manor, right?”
Danny grumbled, rolling down the window a crack. 
“I’m serious, Danny. I know you need it, but the rules are different at the manor. You’ll need to go outside to smoke.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll smoke outside. Wouldn’t want your gramps to get bent out of shape.”
He laughed. “I think Alfred would be alright, once we explain your medical issues. It’s Bruce we’ll have to worry about. He’s got this thing about drugs… once he learns what’s in your juul, he do whatever it takes to get you off it. He won’t even listen if we tell him about your chronic pain, he’ll just think you’re lying!” Dick threw his hand up in the air. “Honestly, it’s just lecture after lecture with him.”
“He can suck a cock then!”
Dick laughed, all traces of anger gone as his bright eyes glanced at him through the mirror. “Say that to his face, and you get ice cream for a week.”
“Done!”
The illusive Bruce Wayne. Danny had heard the name from the TV that morning, and apparently he was Dick’s dad. Not that Dick ever mentioned him in the months they knew each other. Not that this Bruce guy ever visited on the occasions Dick managed to convince him to stay the night, nor in the weeks after his foster placement was finalized. Danny didn’t even know Dick had a dad until this morning, so clearly something was going on here. 
If he focused on this case—the mystery behind the estrangement of Dick and Bruce—then he’d finally be able to get his mind off Mrs. Bennett’s case. The Shade had approached him early that morning, flickering in the moonlight, barely visible and just formed. Her case was so easy too; her killer was her son-in-law, she’d been awake when he killed her and he’d definitely left behind evidence too, but there was no telling if the other detectives at Bludhaven PD would find it. Or would care enough to find it. 
Corrupt bastards. 
Speaking of which—”Are we actually going to be able to consult on cases while we’re in Gotham, or was that just something you said to make me feel better?”
“I believe I said case, as in the singular one with Mrs. Bennett. But yes, I’ve already arranged it with the Commissioner.” 
“But she works for the Damir family! We can’t trust her.”
“We can’t trust her when it comes to cases related to the Damir family,” Dick corrected. “Other than that, she’s decent at her job.”
“That’s not a compliment.”
“She’s better than the other officers in our department?” he tried again.
“Also not a compliment. I’ve met dead guys that are better cops.”
They bantered back and forth, but the closer they got to Gotham, the tenser Dick became. Dick wasn’t the type to get serious out of nowhere—the only times Danny could remember were when a case involved a gang or that one terrible time when some ugly-ass assassin with a stupid-ass name came to town—but whatever was waiting for them… must be bad. Right? 
Gotham, Danny noticed as they drove through town, looked better than Bludhaven, like how rats look better than turds. Danny had heard the rumors about Gotham, mostly about all the dangerous villains, but there was clearly some money going into infrastructure. Beautiful gothic buildings dripping with gargoyles towered overhead, and there weren’t nearly as many boarded up shops and potholes. 
It wouldn’t have been a bad place to set up shop if it weren’t for all the Shades around.
The ghost population of this dimension mostly comprised of Shades with the occasional Poltergeists and Wraiths. Ectoplasm wasn’t as accessible here; just traveling to this dimension had stripped Danny of almost all the ectoplasm in his body and he still hadn’t recovered, so his powers barely worked. But Shades were shadows of humans when they were alive, weak and incorporeal unless you were a ghost too, barely kept together with their obsession.
Bludhaven had a lot of Shades. That’s why Danny settled down there when he first arrived. He wanted to help people move on if he could, either by solving their murder or contacting their loved ones. 
If Bludhaven had a lot of Shades, Gotham had a colossal number. 
Shades clogged the walkways and the streets, dissipating when someone or something went through them and reforming in an instant. Some alleys were plugged with them and some alleys were empty. Danny watched with wide eyes. Ghosts were supposed to be rare. He’d thought ghosts were rare. But Gotham was plagued with violent crime… violent, unique, indescribable crime, worse in intensity from Bludhaven, but not quite there in frequency. There were women with their faces melted off, men ripped in half down the center, children blown to bits, creeping around the streets of Gotham. 
Danny sunk down in his booster seat. “I want to go home,” he admitted quietly. 
Dick sighed. “I know, kiddo. I want to go home too.”
He blinked away stubborn tears. Dick didn’t understand. This wasn’t Danny’s home, this dimension wasn’t Danny’s home, Dick wasn’t Danny’s home (as much as Danny appreciated Dick, he wanted his family, but they hated him, they attacked him, they—)
Dick continued talking. “But you know what? Everything’s going to be okay. Because my grandfather is going to love you. And Bruce— He’s a little rough around the edges and we might not get along right now, but he’s going to love you too.” Dick sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Danny. “Tim’s going to adore you; he’s told me that he’s always wanted a younger sibling and I can’t blame him; his house looks so lonely and his parents were always gone. He’s staying with Bruce now as a foster since his dad’s in a coma, but he’s been family long before that…”
He listened to Dick continue to ramble about his family. Bruce was rarely touched upon in his stories, but Alfred was spoken of with unmistakable love (Danny never knew his grandparents, Mom and Dad were disowned years before he was born, he could probably guess why), and he clearly adored Tim (He could understand that, Danny loved Jazz with his entire soul, but what would it have been like if he had a younger sibling? Would his relationship with Dani have turned into this if they could’ve spent time together?). Dick continued with stories about his best friend and ex-girlfriend, Barabra (Sam and Tuck, Tuck and Sam, his friends were dead and it's his fault—), and even a few including Tim’s ex-girlfriend too.
He closed his eyes and tried not to think. 
Before long, the car slowed to a stop. Ahead of them was a grand manor, the kind shown in those regency tv shows that Jazz loved watching, with obsessively maintained gardens and beautiful, clean exterior. A stone staircase led up to larger-than-life wooden doors; Danny couldn’t identify what kind of wood, but it was probably something expensive and old. Mahogany? That sounded like an expensive wood. 
Dick put the car in park before turning around in his seat to look at Danny. “Alright, buddy. Are you ready to meet our family?”
“Your family,” Danny corrected mulishly, unbuckling his seat belt. 
“Our family,” Dick said again, smiling. “They’re good people, and they’re going to be here for you.”
“Sure.” Sliding out of his seat and out of the car, Danny stayed slightly behind Dick as they walked up the steps and to the front door. Before Dick could knock or find the doorbell, the doors opened to reveal an old stereotypical butler. He even had a British accent! “Master Grayson,” he addressed Dick coolly, but when he looked at Danny, his expression softened. “And Young Master Daniel. It is good to finally meet you, and welcome to Wayne Manor. I am the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth.”
Danny ducked away. “Danny’s fine,” came his muttered response. 
Alfred smiled. “Young Master Danny, then. Come along; Master Bruce is waiting for you both in the foyer.” 
Dick grimaced. Did that mean something bad? What was a foyer, a fancy word for office? Was Dick going to get scolded?
They followed Alfred into the house (although, calling it a house felt like an understatement). It was even fancier inside, with marble floors and a glistening chandelier overhead. Danny felt significantly out of place in his jeans and ratty coat he’d pulled out of the trash.
There was a man pacing in the room (was this the foyer?). He was dressed in a fancy suit and built like a brick house, but looked similar enough to Dick in a weird funhouse-mirror way. The moment he saw them, his face smoothed into a banal smile and Danny immediately didn’t like him. “Dick! You’re home.” Striding up to them, the man immediately hugged Dick, who stiffly returned it. “Welcome back, chum. And who’s this?”
Dick’s smile was strained. “This is my foster son, Danny. Danny, this is Bruce; I was his ward until I turned 18.” Ouch. Not even a foster son, but a ward? That sounded like a significant step down from fostering. Danny glared at Bruce, who seemed taken aback by his hostility. Dick laughed nervously. “Sorry about him, he’s shy.” Now Danny glared at Dick. 
Bruce’s smiled evened out as he crouched down, like that would hide his fucking massive body. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny,” he said. “I’m very happy you're here. Hopefully it’ll be a lot more peaceful now that you’re staying with us.”
Danny scowled. “Suck a cock, douchebag.”
Bruce’s smile dropped as Dick smothered a laugh. “Watch your mouth,” Dick scolded without any heat behind it. Danny smirked. 
“It’s okay, Dick,” Bruce said, straightening up. “I’m sure Danny’s just shaken up from the sudden change. I’m feel the same, since you didn’t tell any of your friends or family that you were taking in a child.”
“Oh, so you can adopt a child without telling anyone, but when I do it—”
Alfred stepped in. “If you both could contain yourselves a minute longer, I can get the Young Masters settled in. I’ve already arranged a room for you in the family ward, Young Master Danny, if you’d like to rest? It is still rather early in the morning.”
“It might be better to give him a tour of the manor before anything else,” Dick said, eyeing Danny warrily. 
“I’m not going to get lost.”
“Mhmm.” Dick didn’t believe him. 
“I’m not!”
“Just like how you didn’t get lost at the precinct? Or at the morgue? Or at—”
“I never got lost on the streets!” Danny thought that was rather impressive. Besides, it’s not his fault the morgue was just empty hallways that all looked the same!
“The streets are labeled. Besides, you’ll never know where the in-house theater is without a tour.” Dick winked, like that was a big selling point. 
Bruce interrupted them. “Why don't you give him a tour after we talk, Dick? It’s been a long time since we last spoke and I was hoping to ask you about your… recent life change.”
Dick pinched the bridge of nose. “Of course you want to start the interrogation right away,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowed. “Alright, but I don’t want Danny to hear this. Alfie, could you– Tim!” Following Dick’s glance, Danny found a teenager in his fancy pajamas standing on the stairs leading to the second floor. The teen, who looked enough like Dick to be his brother and Bruce’s son, rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Tim can take you on the tour! Come on, Danny.” 
Dick ushered Danny up the stairs to Tim. “Will you be okay without me?” Danny asked, not wanting to leave Dick alone with Bruce.
He got a bright smile in return. Danny didn’t trust it. “Of course I will, kiddo. Don’t worry about me, just focus on having fun with Timmy.”
Tim looked blearily between them. “What is going on?”
“You’re taking Danny on a tour so he doesn’t hear me and Bruce fight,” Dick told him plainly. “Danny, this is my brother and Bruce’s foster son, Tim. Tim, this is my foster son, Danny. You two have fun!”
Ignoring Tim’s protests that he hadn’t had breakfast yet, Dick pushed them up the stairs and into the immediate hallway, closing the door behind him. They stared at each other for a moment before Danny pressed his ear against the crack in the door. “When did Dick get a kid?” Tim asked.
“Like, three weeks ago, keep up.” Tim tried to say something again, but Danny shushed him. After a moment, Tim joined him in eavesdropping by the door. 
Dick spoke. “I’ll start. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you both I was fostering a kid. I was planning to inform you after the two month mark and Danny had settled in a bit more, but obviously that plan is out the window.”
“I accept your apology, Master Dick,” Alfred said, and there was a sigh of relief. “However, I would still like to know how this happened in the first place.”
“I’m more interested in knowing how you managed to foster him without us being interviewed as character references.”
“...I may have used my boss’ influence to make sure that only my co-workers were interviewed?” Dick admitted.
“Master Richard.”
“I’m sorry, Alfie, but he’s a flight risk! Do you know how many times I managed to get him to come home with me only for him to disappear in the middle of the night!? Fourteen times! Danny’s admitted that he ran away from his previous home, he still hasn’t told me his real last name, and he’s paranoid enough to give Bruce a run for his money! I’ve just barely managed to gain his trust. I didn’t need Bruce being Bruce to ruin it for us—”
“If you had asked me to stay away, I would have—”
“No you wouldn’t, Bruce! You’d pick and prod and try to uncover his every little secret because you don’t trust me to figure it out myself! If Danny had suspected that someone was looking into his past, he would have bolted, B. And I would have lost him forever.”
Danny nodded. He would have. Not that Bruce would have found anything about his past–the perks of getting stuck in an alternate dimension–but some rich asshole poking his nose in his business? Danny would have snuck onto the next bus out of the city.
“You can barely take care of yourself, Dick!” Bruce insisted. “If it was such a dire situation, then you could have contacted me and I would have–”
“–Lost him immediately because he has a strange hatred for billionaires?” Dick scoffed. “He wouldn’t let you get within six feet of him if you tried to take custody.”
“I–”
“He bites too.”
“Dick–”
“Hard.”
“Richard–”
“And it’s pretty bold of you to say I can’t take care of myself. Have you looked in the mirror recently? Because the word hypocrite is written across your forehead in crayon.”
“But I’m not the one who struggles to make rent each month.” Danny flinched. He’d known that Dick didn’t get paid that much, but was it really that bad? Didn’t Dick get a pay increase when he was made detective? Or was Danny taking so much money that it negated the pay increase— “Nevertheless, I’m not trying to take custody away from you, Dick. I’m just… trying to figure out how we got to this point.”
“We got to this point by not trusting each other,” Dick said tiredly. “And I still don’t trust you, not after what you did.”
Dick, I–”
“No, Bruce. This is my life. Besides you were only a few years older than me when my parents died and you decided to raise me on your own. It’s hypocritical for you to complain that I’m doing the same. Look, I’ve known Danny for over a year–”
“You mean you’ve hid this from me for over a year?”
“Bruce–”
“I knew I should have been suspicious when you got that foster license. You’ve been planning this for months–”
“Bruce!” Dick snapped, and Danny had never heard Dick that mad before, not even the first time they met. “Obviously I’ve been planning this for months! I’ve been planning this since the first week I met Danny! The only reason I got that damn license was for him!” He felt… warm. Danny knew that foster licenses were hard to get, but Dick had really wanted him since the week they met. Danny had been so… feral back then, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him, not even Jazz. Dick continued, voice barely audible through the door. “He’s a good kid. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
A sigh. “I just… don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret, that’s all.”
“Are you saying you regret adopting me?” The angry voice was back. “Adopting Jason?”
“That’s not what I meant—!”
Tim pulled him away from the door. “We shouldn’t be listening to this. Come on, let’s start that tour you need.”
Danny tried to pull away, but Tim was deceptively strong for his thin frame. Despite his struggles, he was halfway down the hall before he knew it. “Let me go, cocksleeve!”
“You don’t need to hear that,” Tim said. “Trust me, things always get… heated between them, when Jason is brought up. That’s not something you need to witness.”
Jason, huh? That must be the linchpin in this entire investigation. Dick had never mentioned a Jason before, but he was clearly important if the entire family got bent out of shape for him. Did Dick cut contact with Bruce because of this Jason? Did Jason force Dick to do it? Dick would never abandon his family like that, Danny knew this had to be true because of his determination in trying to take Danny home, but if he was forced to stay away… Maybe Jason is an associate of Bruce that Dick hates?
Danny finally managed to jerk his arm away. His entire hand ached. “You don’t have to drag me!”
Shock crossed Tim’s face, like he’d finally realized what he was doing, before it fell. “I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have pulled you. It’s just… Jason isn’t something you should hear about, at your age. I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring him up, especially around Bruce. Okay?”
Studying the boy, Danny agreed. Sounds like Jason’s some sort of criminal contact, so it was best to behave carefully. Danny kicked at the ground, scraping dirt off onto the carpet that ran in the center of the hall. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” He asked. “I don’t need a tour, I’m not a baby.”
Tim rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I just spent the night in the library, working on a case? If you want to lend a hand with that?”
Danny narrowed his eyes. “I thought you just woke up?”
“...Just because I was in the library doesn’t mean I was awake the entire time.”
Ah, a fellow insomniac. His eyes narrowed further. “I only like interesting cases. What kind are we talking about? Fraud? Robbery? Some dinky school kid project?”
“Multiple homicides. If that’s interesting enough for you?”
“...Carry on.”
A/N: Anyway, I’m using @/jedipirateking’s age chart for the ages of Batman characters. Since we’re right before Under the Red Hood, that makes Dick 24. Danny is roughly a year younger than Damian, but was originally 17 before he was deaged. 
Dick: Yes, this is my feral street child. Danny: *foaming at the mouth, swearing*
Tim, internally: Oh! Dick must have already informed Danny about our identities! They work on cases together too, maybe we can work on one to bond? Danny, internally: Wow, rich people have weird ass hobbies
Danny: *so close, yet so far from figuring out the Jason thing* Red Hood: Did someone just walk over my fucking grave again?
Yes, some things are being kept vague on purpose. That’s for a better reveal in the future.
@starlightcat04 @maeashryver @widderwise @darkstarsapocalypse @sisma @luminanightfall @storm-fire98 @amyheart19 @collectingthegoods @redhoneysugarorange @lordfirecat2004 @screechingnoises @meira-3919 @dannyphannypack @satisfactionbroughtmeback @rowanaway-fromthisbs @i-always-say-yea @avelnfear @some-rotten-nest @ark12 @heirxofxtime @akikkobara @blep-23 @skulld3mort-1fan @markus209 @stargirl1331 @onlyhereforthechaos @inth3world @awkwardmaiden @fantasticbluebirdfan @currant-owo @alice-hazelwood @screamingtofillthevoid @crystalqueertea @gaelicholiday @gmkelz11 @mattybook1987-blog @bytheoldwillowtree @apointlessbox @chemical-pepis @ghostface3100 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @bathildaburp @boo-ghosties @bubblemixer @halfalix @lyra689 @dragon-dancer16 @lunadoll36 @mimilikey @hellomygay @frogs-are-pretty-awesom @overtherose @cyrwrites @your-emo-nightmare @lexdamo @roman4517 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @raginblastocyst @thegatorsgoose @fisticuffsatapplebees @olivethetreebitch @vixen-uchiha @ae-vixrose @joseph557 @kisatamao @gin2212 @thewondersoflebanon @d4ydr34min9 @malice-of-the-sunrise @tiblii @that-awkward-fae-nerd @aph-mable @dolfay @ghostreblogging @wackyattack @writer-extraordinaire @boo-ghosties @coruscateselene @emergentpanda-blog
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riboism · 1 year
Text
man who can’t be moved
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》 pairing: j.yh x f!reader
》 genre: angst, smut, some fluff
》 content: college student!reader, college student! yunho, no strings attached, hookups, reader is kind of a player, some mentions of reader’s ex (it didn’t end well),  lots of denial, lots of emotions, big dick yunho, creampie, clit play, angry sex, am i missing anything?
》 wc: 6.4k
》 a/n: thank you to the person who requested this! this got me out of my writers block. I hope you like it :)
♫ playlist: flook- hector gachan, evergreen- omar apollo, frío- omar apollo, broken love- gemini, man who can’t be moved- the script
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Yunho stood outside your apartment door, holding onto a box that contained your possessions. He could smell the rosy scent of the shampoo that you left in his shower. He had spent all morning collecting your belongings into this box, proud that he finally made an effort to be rid of you once and for all. But that rosy smell, that same scent that he’d wake up to after you spent the night was making him second guess himself. No, stop it, he said to himself. Just stick to the plan Yunho. 
The plan was simple. Yunho would go to your apartment after work and knock on your door, fully aware that you probably weren’t home. You were most likely at San’s or Yeosang’s place right now, getting shit-faced drunk and having sweaty sex on their beat-up couches, head too fuzzy in bliss to even spare a single thought about him. But he thought he would knock anyway, just as a courtesy. He’d wait for ten seconds, and when you don’t answer, he’d shrug in a “welp, I tried” kind of way before placing the box on your doorstep. He’ll take a deep breath while looking at your door that he knew all too well one last time and then head towards the stairwell exit, with his head held high, showing no intention of turning back.
Yunho was partly to blame for the way things ended, and he knew that. You made yourself very clear in the beginning. “Listen Yunho, you’re really sweet,” You said after he confessed to you all those months ago at the campus library where you two first met, “But I’m not looking for anything serious. I don’t really do relationships. You get what I mean?”
He knew exactly what you meant. ‘Dating’ was an ancient term. Nobody ‘dated’ anymore. What replaced this archaic social practice were one-night stands, situation-ships, friends with benefits, hookups, etc. No one wanted a ‘serious’ relationship anymore because that meant having to give your mind, body, and soul to someone, and why bother with all that when you can just give them one of the three? 
Even though most of his peers shared the same sentiment as you when it came to relationships, Yunho didn’t agree with it at all. Maybe he was old-fashioned for wanting something more than a quick fuck. Looking back on it now, he regretted not taking the hint. It was evident that you wanted a guy you could fool around with when you were bored, someone who’s emotionally unavailable so you don’t have to worry about attachments and sudden ‘L’ bombs when you’re just trying to get your fix. But Yunho, who was so pathetically infatuated with you at the time, so much so that it blocked away all rational thinking, decided that he’ll be whatever kind of guy you wanted him to be if it meant that he could be with you. The foolish romantic was now part of a no strings attached relationship. 
He felt incredibly stupid for getting involved with you. What did he expect? That after all the mindless sex, you’d fall as hard for him as he did for you, and finally agree to be his girlfriend? He had so much to learn. No strings attached meant no strings attached. That meant less conversation and more action. Less getting to know each other and more getting to know about what was in between your legs. It meant no longing stares, although he was guilty of watching you sleep in his arms from time to time. It also meant being okay with the fact that he was not the only guy you were seeing. And that’s when the fights would ensue.
“Who was that guy?” Yunho demanded, making sure to use his quiet-yelling voice out of respect for the other patrons of the library. He was referring to the pale, blonde-haired guy from the dining hall earlier. He didn’t like how close he was standing next to you. He especially didn’t like it when he leaned in to whisper in your ear, or how you giggled when he placed his hands over your waist and how you rubbed your hands over his flexed muscles. You chewed on your gum, tracing your fingers over the etched golden text on the book spines on the historical fiction shelf. You almost didn’t hear him at first, too preoccupied with finding your next bedtime read. 
“Hmm? Oh, that guy? Just someone I’ve been seeing. Why, you jealous?” 
It was a joke. There was no such thing as ‘jealousy’ in a no strings attached relationship. You smiled up at him, expecting to see him roll his eyes from your playful jab, but instead, he looked away from you. Even with his side profile facing you, you could read the tinge of irritation on his face. You frowned.
“Oh come on Pookie,” You pouted, squeezing his cheeks and turning his head to face you. You chuckled after seeing his lips puckered up like a fish. “Don’t be like that. Come on, I can’t be the only girl you’re seeing, right?” 
He placed his hand on your wrist and pulled you off him. “Whatever.” He moped. He watched as your eyes widened in sudden realization. 
“No…” You gasped dramatically, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. “I’m the only one you’ve been seeing?” 
He stayed quiet, not understanding why you worded it that way. Was it really a bad thing that you were the only girl on his mind? 
“Oh god, you’re so cute!” You tittered. “I thought with a dick like yours, you’d be very popular. It’s a shame you’re not sharing it. I know a lot of girls who would love to take you out for a spin.” 
“Keep your voice down.” Yunho hissed, looking around to see if anyone heard your distasteful choice of words. Luckily, no one was around at your corner of the library. “And stop talking like that. I don’t like it when you talk about me like that.” 
“It was a compliment!” You defended yourself. Yunho refused to meet your eyes, busying himself with pulling out random books and reading the blurbs on the backside, although he was too upset to even acknowledge what he was reading. You sighed again, feeling a little bad for making him so upset. You’d often forget that Yunho was more sensitive than your other partners and that he needed extra kindness and assurance. You wrapped your arms around his big body and rested your cheek against his back. 
“Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you so much.” He stayed quiet, putting back the book and pulling out another. “Please don’t be mad.” You begged. 
“I’m not mad,” He murmured. “I just thought…I don’t know, I thought I was the only guy you were seeing.” 
“Does it bother you that you’re not?” You questioned, letting go of him. Yunho looked back at you, his chest tightening at your furrowed brows. He worried that he said the wrong thing again. He was new to the no strings attached community, and would often let his possessiveness and sensitivity peek through. 
“No,” He lied. “I just…Forget it.” 
You mulled over his response, trying hard to understand why he was so upset, to begin with. Your silence made Yunho nervous. Everything about you made him nervous. 
Then, your eyes sparked when you finally understood. “Ohh…I get it.” You nodded. 
His shoulders tensed up. “You do?” 
“Yes, and you have nothing to worry about. Out of everyone, you’re my favorite.” You stood on your tippy toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, satisfied that you solved the puzzle and were able to calm his nerves. 
Yunho gave you a shy smile. He didn’t want to smile, but he figured it was best to do so, so that you could believe that he was lashing out over the fear of being replaced, and not because he didn’t wish to share you with other guys. 
You continued on. “You worried me for a second. I thought you were one of those guys that don’t like it when a girl has a mind of her own.”
“No,” he chuckled nervously, “No, I don’t mind that at all.” 
“Good,” you chirped, going back to your search. “You wouldn’t believe some of the guys I’ve been with. They get so clingy, and it gets annoying after a while. I’m glad you’re not like that. Other guys…they don’t get it.  We’re young. It’s better we have fun while we can, or else we’ll live to regret it when we’re old and wrinkly and can’t get any.” 
Yunho hummed in agreement, although he didn’t agree with you at all. He thought about his grandparents. They lived in a small apartment just outside of the city. His parents would complain about how small their living space was, and offered to help them move into a more spacious apartment, but his grandparents always refused. “If we move into a bigger apartment, we won’t be able to see each other. This size is perfect,” His grandmother would say, “I turn around and he’s right behind me. It’s how it should be. Anything farther, and we’d miss each other too much.”
It always warmed his heart just how inseparable those two were, even in their old age. He wanted that for himself one day. How wonderful would it be to grow old with the person you love most? 
Later that night, while you were showering, he remained in your bed, thinking about what you said earlier. Was he really your favorite? Did you really like him more than the other guys you were seeing? Or was his dick just bigger than theirs? He tried not to think about that too much and focused on going to sleep.
-
And when it wasn’t him being upset with you, it was you getting annoyed with him. 
“Do you really have to go?” Yunho whined. He was sitting up on his bed, watching you as you shuffled around his room, bending down to pick up the discarded pieces of clothing. 
“I already told San I’d meet up with him later.” You huffed as you shimmied into your jeans. Yunho didn’t like how quickly you were getting dressed. It was as if you were eager to get away from him. 
“San?” He scoffed. “You mean that bartender that kept eye fucking you right in front of me?” 
Yunho remembered San. A lot of the girls from your University frequented that bar on the corner of Main Street, hoping to get served by the handsome devil in all black. He’s seen a lot of the girls write their phone numbers on the twenty-dollar bills they tipped him with. It was ridiculous. Everything about him was ridiculous, from the cheap hair gel he used to slick back his hair, to his sleazy smile, along with his overly tight t-shirts and shiny black leather pants. But he didn’t mind him too much, not until that night when you two went in for a drink, and the so-called ‘handsome devil in all black’ ruthlessly flirted with you when he was clearly sitting right next to you with his hand on your thigh to mark that you were taken. Yunho didn’t know what angered him more. San’s shit-eating grin or the fact that you let him flirt with you in the first place. 
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, that guy.” You really didn’t like it when he got emotional, and Yunho could sense your discomfort. He immediately regretted what he said and grabbed you by your arm before you could leave, pleading to you with his eyes. 
“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you. But can’t you just stay a little longer? It’s already so late. I thought you could spend the night. We could rent a movie?” He offered. 
You picked up your jacket and purse, not even bothering to put them on before you left. “Look, I’ll call you okay?” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips and then went out the door before he could protest again. Yunho slumped back against the headboard, the sound of the door slamming behind you echoing in his head. How do you keep letting this happen, Yunho? She comes and goes, that’s what she does. She’s not here to hold hands and watch a fucking movie. She wants to fuck and then move on to the next guy. Seriously, do you have any respect for yourself?
And that’s how the cycle would begin. Yunho would get tired of you and your bullshit, tired of being discarded right after helping you cum, tired of driving himself mad over who you were seeing and what you were doing with him, just tired of being an option. It wasn’t him. He wanted you and your full devotion, and when he finally realized that there was no way you would give that to him, he’d call it off. 
The first few weeks of being free from you would go well. He’d be at peace like he got rid of a bad cold and could finally breathe again. But that small period of relief wouldn’t last very long. Truth was, Yunho wasn’t good at being alone. And soon, he’d miss your touch, your smell, and hearing your laugh. He’d miss the moments he spent with you in the library, like when you two would play footsies under the table during your late-night midterm study sessions, or the times you two would fight for the aux cord in his car, eager to show each other new songs you were obsessing over at the moment. He’d find himself listening to the songs you showed him, but they didn’t sound the same anymore. 
He’d miss hearing you talk about your day or your thoughts about rent control and the current economic crisis. And then he’d miss the nights he spent with you, how your body reacted to his fingertips, the way you’d press your eyes shut when he entered you, and the pretty sounds you let out when you were close to your peak. And then he’d think about that one night you showed up at his apartment, unannounced. You were upset, it was telling from your reddened lips and tear-stained cheeks. You wouldn’t say why you were upset, and after asking a couple of times, Yunho decided to just let leave you be. He then invited you in and let you lead the way to his bed. It started the way any other night started, with you two hungrily ripping each other’s clothing off, but before he could spread your legs, you suddenly pressed your hand to his chest and asked him to stop. “No, not like this…Can we-” You looked away from his piercing gaze, a rush of frustration and confusion coursing through your stomach until you finally spit the words out. “Can we just lay here?”
Yunho looked down at you with sincerity in his eyes, and he wanted to ask you one more time what was wrong. But seeing you so hurt, so tired, so in need of someone to just hold you while you cried, he decided to hold his tongue. He pulled you into his arms without question, letting you wet his chest with your spilled tears. And when he felt goosebumps prickle up on your skin, he covered both your naked bodies with a blanket and held you tighter. You finally fell asleep, your worries being absorbed by Yunho and his warm embrace, and Yunho couldn’t help but feel a little enraptured watching you sleep so peacefully in his arms. He’s had you in every way, in every position, seen every crevice of your beautiful body, but this. This is what he wanted most in the world. This is how he wanted you. And he hoped that by the next morning, that’s how you’d want him too. But when morning came, Yunho woke up alone, with nothing but the faint smell of roses on his pillowcase. When he asked you about it later that day on campus, you suddenly went cold and demanded he never bring it up again.
He thought about that night, your body, those Omar Apollo songs you showed him, the library study sessions, just every single moment that he’s ever spent with you, driving himself mad to the point where the desire for you would be overwhelming and too strong to ignore and he’d ultimately give in and crawl back into bed with you, allowing you to use him as you wanted, feeling again like a dog on your leash. It would feel good for a bit, until those same old feelings resurfaced and he’d call it off once again, repeating the never-ending cycle of your no strings attached relationship.
But this time, things were going to be different. He wasn’t going to continue this cycle. You weren’t good for him, and it was time he let go and move on. That’s why he packed all your stuff and came to drop them off. It was official. There was no going back from this. All he had to do now was stick to the plan. 
Yunho shifted the box to his side and used his free hand to knock on the door. He took a deep breath and counted in his head. 
One. 
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five-
The door swung open, interrupting his counting. You stood at the door frame in nothing but your bathrobe, your wet hair dripping puddles around your feet. Yunho was at a loss for words. This wasn’t part of the plan. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t prepare for this. He didn’t, sorry, couldn’t see you, because it would just make things harder. It was like flaunting a cigarette in front of someone who just quit smoking. He wasn’t strong enough to resist you. He was addicted to you and he worried that he would relapse again. 
“Oh, Yunho.” You acknowledged, crossing your arms over your chest. He held onto the box tighter, feeling himself twitch from the sound of you calling his name. You peered into the box, recognizing the articles of clothing and personal hygiene products. “Is that my stuff?” 
Yunho struggled at first, forgetting for a moment how to speak coherently. “Uh- yes, it is. I came to drop them off. Here.” He blubbered, pushing the box towards you. You took it from his hands, not expecting it to be so heavy. You didn’t realize you left so many things at his place. 
“Oh. Thanks.” 
A silence weighed in between you, both of you looking at each other awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. Right, Yunho thought to himself, there’s nothing left to say. You did your part, now walk right out. 
“Well, I should head back. Goodnight, Y/N.” 
Yunho turned on his heel and made his way out of the long corridor. Part of him didn’t want to reach the end of the hall, but he pushed himself anyway, reminding himself over and over to not look back. As painful as it was, it needed to happen. It was for the best. 
“Wait,” You called after him. 
And just like that, Yunho immediately stopped in his tracks, not hesitating this time to turn around. It almost brought him some relief, like he had been holding his breath for too long, and now you finally gave him permission to exhale. “Yes?” He beamed.
You stepped out from the door frame and into the hall so you were right across from where Yunho stood. “Do you want to come in?”
“What?” He asked, dumbfounded, almost believing that he must have heard you wrong. 
“I mean, your stuff,” You clarified, “I still have some of your stuff in my apartment if you wanted to come in and grab them.” It was kind of pathetic, the way you tripped over your words, but you couldn’t bare saying goodbye just yet. No, you’re not catching feelings, you assured yourself. You just wanted him around you for a little bit longer. Maybe it was selfish of you to keep pulling on his leash like this, but for the moment, you didn’t care. 
“Oh, right. That would be great, actually.” 
-
Yunho knew he would hate himself for letting this happen. All that progress getting chucked out the window on account of his lack of self-control. But how could you blame him? With the way your damp strands curled around your flushed cheeks, the smell of your rosy shampoo that had been seared into his nostrils by now, and the fact that all he had to do was undue your robe to see your beautiful glistening body that was so ready for him to take. It was all so easy. You handed him the apple and all he had to do was take a bite. 
“Fuck, Yunho!” You cried out, grasping his bare back for dear life as he frantically thrust into you. He was angry, angry at himself that he let this happen again, and angry at you for making him so weak. He only put just the tip in, but you could’ve sworn you were seeing stars from the stretch alone. 
“Unbelievable,” He grunted. “Even after the hundred times we fucked, your little pussy still can’t take my cock?”
You’d never seen this side of Yunho. Usually, he was nice and gentle with you, always studying the arch of your brows to see if he was taking things too far or not. It was sweet at first, but sometimes you’d wish he’d just take you and fuck you like an animal. It seemed your wish was finally granted. “P-Please! All of it, I want all of it Yunho, please!” Was all you could muster out. 
He pulled out of you in an instant, and before you could whine, he forcibly flipped you over and pulled you back by your hips until your ass smacked into his pelvis. Yunho kept you down with his hand pressed against the space between your shoulder blades as he lined himself up with your aching center. 
Yunho rubbed himself against your slick folds, occasionally slapping his tip over your swollen clit, making your hips jolt with anticipation. “You want it all? ‘Guess those other guys don’t fill you up as much as you want, huh? Poor thing.” He continued dragging his cock over your folds, your soft whimpers only feeding into his ego. 
Just when he thought you had enough, he guided his cock into your hole, the stretch forcing you to tear up once again. You grasped at your bed sheets and pressed your eyes shut, preparing yourself for the rest of him as your lips coated in salty tears. 
He pushed the rest of him into you with a struggle, his hips stagnant as he waited for you to adjust to his size. “Fuck!” You gasped, your voice cracking as he started up again. Each thrust was deep, calculated, and they didn’t fail to rip a moan out of you. 
His fingers, now coated with your essence, tweaked and twisted at your clit. It was all too much for you, really, the sheer length of him plowing into your walls, the brutal pace he set on account of his anger, along with the way he toyed at your clit. Yunho could sense you were close, having known your body long enough to know when you were about to be sent over the edge. He stopped teasing your bud and instead slipped his fingers past your lips and you readily let him in, swirling your tongue around his digits to clean yourself off him. He grinned to himself, pleased to see that you knew exactly what to do without any instruction. 
Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out from you and cupped your jaw with his large hand, pulling you back until your head was against his chest, keeping your face there so you were forced to look up at him. He peered down at you with his full attention, completely engrossed by just how pretty and sinful you looked in this position. “Stay like that,” He breathed “‘wanna see you when you cum all over my cock.” 
He came first, your orgasm approaching soon after. You babbled incoherently as his cum flooded your walls, forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. Yunho was completely enamored with you like this, your parted and swollen lips and your half-lidded eyelids almost making him shoot a second load into you. He disconnected from you and you fell forward onto the bed, catching your breath as you came down from your high. You felt dizzy and sweaty, and your head was so cloudy that you were unable to form a thought that wasn’t already so scrambled. As you relaxed, you felt Yunho’s breath over your hip right before he planted soft kisses on your lower back all the way up to your shoulder. His kisses were sweet and careful, almost like he was making up for being so rough with you. Soon enough, he retired from your shoulder and moved on to the side of your face, brushing his pillowy lips on your temple, to your wet eyes, to your cheek, until you craned your neck back and allowed him to meet your lips. 
It was almost foreign to you, to have someone care this deeply for you even after the act. None of your other partners behaved this way, and you were lucky if they even remembered to toss you a towel. But Yunho, he was different. He treated you as something more, and maybe it made you feel bad that you didn’t do the same for him. It was overwhelming, his soft kisses, his careful touches, the way he’d beg you to stay over, and the way he almost looked hurt when you say you can’t. Poor Yunho. He was in love with you, and you knew it. You hated yourself for toying with a man with good intentions. But what was the alternative? You couldn’t be his, and he couldn’t be yours. You made a promise to yourself years ago that you’d never be foolish enough to fall in love ever again. This had to stop, you should’ve stopped it months ago, but you were selfish. And lonely. The guilt you’ve been bottling up inside of you was too much to handle, and you knew you had to do something before you exploded.
Feeling disgusted with yourself, you pulled away from his lips. Yunho raised a brow at the sudden gesture. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his slightly concerned tone making your heart shatter into pieces. 
“You should get going. It’s late.” You got up, forcing Yunho to pull off of you. He watched you as you went over to your dresser to pull out a fresh pair of pajamas, completely dumbfounded by your sudden coldness. 
“Are you fucking serious?” He scoffed.
You shook your head, picking up his t-shirt that lay on the floor and tossing it over to him. His eyes flickered in anger and he threw his shirt back on the ground. “I don’t understand, why do you always do this!?” 
You stayed quiet, quickly covering yourself before turning around to face him, keeping your eyes low, feeling too ashamed to meet his. “I’m sorry, but I need you to go.” 
Yunho clenched his jaw. How could you be so cold? How could you invite him in, only to toss him out so abruptly? He thought about how you melted right into his embrace, how you kissed him back with the same amount of passion that he kissed you with. Was any of it real? Or was he too infatuated to notice that you were playing him, again? 
“Why? Is Yeosang coming over? Do you really think that guy cares about you?”
You balled your fists up at the mention of Yeosang. “Stop.” You warned.
“And San? He’d fuck anything with two legs and a heartbeat. Is that what you want?”
“Yes, Yunho, that’s exactly what I want!” You snapped. A silence weighed in before Yunho’s lips curled up in an unexpected smile. 
“What?” You teethed. 
He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t know what you want. That’s why you keep coming back to me.” 
“Me?” You pointed to yourself, a crooked smile now spread across your lips. “No, it’s you that keeps coming back to me.” You jeered. 
“And you let me! Why do you let me!? Time after time, you take me back without question, why?”
You crossed your arms and looked away from his direction. You felt hot, like the blood in your veins was boiling. You didn’t want to deal with this. You felt stupid for letting him in. Yunho always had questions, so many questions, and you couldn’t give him any answers. Fed up with your silence, Yunho got up and walked towards you, almost closing the gap between you two. You still didn’t look at him. 
“And that night. Why did you come to me? Why didn’t you go to your other boyfriends? You were so different. Why did you act like it never happened the next day?” 
Your breath hitched in your throat. Your expression softened remembering that night. It was so cold and rainy that night, and Yunho felt so warm. He made you feel so loved, so cared for, and for once you felt like you deserved someone like him. But the morning sun gave you some clarity, and you were reminded once again of what happens when you fully give your heart to someone. Yunho didn’t see it now, but he’ll understand it one day. Love is a wasted emotion. It gives and gives, until one day it takes everything back from you, and more. 
“I don’t know.” You sighed. 
That wasn’t good enough for him. He took another step forward, the tips of your noses now just centimeters away from each other. “I’ll tell you why,” He said, his voice softer than earlier. “It’s because you like me. It’s because I’m the only one who really understands you, the only one who sees more to you than just your body. That’s why you keep taking me back. It’s why you came to me that night. You knew you could be vulnerable with me, and that I wouldn’t turn you away, because-” He paused for a moment to lick his lips. “Because I like you too, y/n.” 
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to ignore the sting so that you wouldn’t blink and force them to run down your cheeks. Your chest felt like it was engulfed in flames, making your breathing unsteady. You were too caught up in your emotions to realize that Yunho closed the gap and pressed his lips onto yours, his hands firmly placed at your waist. 
He always kissed you like he wasn’t going to see you for a while. Maybe it was a force of habit considering all the times Yunho had ended things between you two. Or maybe, as he said, he liked you, and he wanted you to know from his touch if his words didn’t suffice. It felt right kissing him, real. Not like all the other times with your boy toys, who only kissed you because that’s just what came naturally when you're both rolling around naked in bed. Yunho never only kissed you on the lips, but everywhere else as well, your eyes, cheeks, forehead, and just every feature of you that made his heart swell and anywhere he could put his lips on if you let him. 
It was so easy. All you had to do was wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back, leave this no strings attached bullshit behind, and let him lead the way. But you were reminded, reminded of him again, the one who took your heart and snapped it into two, the one who lead you to keep people at a distance and hurt them before they hurt you. That’s what you needed to do now, you told yourself. You had to hurt him. It made your heart ache even thinking of hurting Yunho, but you would be doing him a favor, even if he didn’t realize it now. You were damaged goods, not fit for sale. He’d be better off.
You pushed your hands on his chest to get him off you. Yunho, looking at you with such hope and hurt in his eyes, holding onto your hands that you used to keep him at a distance. He didn’t say anything, instead waiting for you to explain. 
Your eyes were down at your feet, too afraid to look him in the eye and say your next words. “I’m sorry Yunho, but I just don’t feel the same.” 
Yunho didn’t speak for a while. You wanted to look up at him, but you knew that seeing his reaction would crush you. You told yourself not to look. It was easier this way. 
“You don’t mean that.” Yunho kept his voice steady, even though he could feel a slight lump forming in his throat. “I know you feel the same, y/n.” 
You shook your head and a few droplets of tears splashed onto the carpet and onto your toes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t.” 
His hands let go of yours and he immediately brushed his fingers under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up. “You really don’t feel what I feel? Then why don’t you look at me and say it?” 
He gazed down at you, waiting for your eyes to meet his, getting impatient with you when they didn’t. “Look at me and say you don’t want me.”
Overwhelmed, you moved your head around and pushed him off of you, too consumed in your rage to realize that for once that night, you were finally meeting his eyes. 
“I don’t want you. I never cared for you. You were just a distraction. Whatever you think was going on, it’s not true. You don’t know me, you don’t know what’s going on in my head, so don’t act as you do! For the love of god Yunho, just get the fuck out!” 
You panted after letting your frustrations out, the room now silent again. Nothing could have prepared you for the look on Yunho’s face right now. His sweet face was painted in constraint, his once cheery and sparkling brown eyes now glossy and downcast. You could feel your heart being ripped out of your chest, and for a moment you wanted to rush over to him and tell him you didn’t mean it, that you’ll do whatever he wants, be whatever he wants, as long as he stops making that face, but your legs stayed immobile and the words tangled up in your throat.
Yunho looked at you for a while, waiting to see if you would take those words back, but you never did. Swallowing the painful lump in his throat, he picked up his shirt from the floor and got dressed. You leaned back on your dresser, watching him as he put on his coat and slipped on his shoes. There was so much time to say something, anything, but neither of you uttered a word, and Yunho understood now that he said all that he needed to say, and that he couldn’t change your mind, even if he tried. 
He was now at your entry door, and you followed behind him, staying back a couple of feet as you prepared to watch him leave your life once and for all. As he held onto the knob, he turned his head slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but decided against it, and went on with turning the knob, his tall frame disappearing behind the closing door. 
You wanted to crawl into a ball and cry right there on the floor, but you stayed strong. You’re not crying over a guy again, you promised yourself. Even if it hurts…It’s for the best.
-
Finals were almost over, and the Library was seeing a reduction in visitors. The staff was partly relieved, enjoying the empty space and not having to be bothered to tell students to be quiet, confiscate their Cheeto bags (even though there’s a bold NO EATING sign at almost every table), and wake up tired students from their naps to tell them the library was closing. But there was one visitor who came almost daily and sat at the same exact spot in the same exact section. The Historical Fiction section.
The librarians didn’t know what his deal was. He’d come in with absolutely nothing, no backpack, no laptop, no textbook. They even doubted he brought his phone. Sometimes, he’d take a book off the historical fiction shelf and crack it open, although, unbeknownst to the library staff, he wasn’t actually reading anything. He tried to, but then his head would get fuzzy and he’d get lost in thought, his eyes darting around every time he heard the Library door open or footsteps approach his section, only for it to be another student or a staff member, and when he’d sigh and look back down at his book, he’d forget where he left off and start from the beginning again.
They didn’t know he was waiting on a girl. If they did, they would probably feel bad for him, and maybe even find his efforts to be a little pathetic. But to Yunho, it didn’t matter to him what they thought. Being the tortured romantic that he was, he still had hope that you two would be together again. He wasn’t going to crawl back to you like all the other times. Instead, he was going to wait. He believed the day would come where you’d grow sick from your passing relationships and realize your true feelings for him. And when you realize that, you’ll come running to the Library where you two first met, and you would find him there, sitting at your table in your special little corner of the Library. He’d greet you with a friendly smile, and pull out a chair for you, and you two would just pick up where you left off as if nothing else ever happened. Maybe then he’d take you out on a real date, maybe to a fancy restaurant which neither of you could pronounce the name of, and afterward, you’d crash at his place and you’d lay in his arms just as you did that night, and he’d whisper corny jokes into your hair, both of you laughing softly until you finally fell asleep. Maybe, after a while of sleeping over, you’d take a liking to his idea of moving into a small and cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city, where there’s no one around to bother you except each other. Maybe. Who knows.
They didn’t know he was waiting on a girl. If they did, they would probably feel bad for him, and maybe even find his efforts to be a little pathetic. But to Yunho, it didn’t matter what they thought. Being the tortured romantic that he was, he still had hope that you two would be together again. He wasn’t going to crawl back to you like all the other times. Instead, he was going to wait. He believed the day would come where you’d grow sick from your passing relationships and realize your true feelings for him. And when you realize that, you’ll come running to the place where you two first met, and you would find him there, sitting at your table in your special little corner of the Library. He’d greet you with a friendly smile, and pull out a chair for you, and you two would just pick up where you left off as if nothing else ever happened. Maybe then he’d take you out on a real date, maybe to a fancy restaurant which neither of you could pronounce the name of, and afterward, you’d crash at his place and you’d lay in his arms just as you did that night, and he’d whisper corny jokes into your hair, both of you laughing softly until you finally fell asleep. Maybe, after a while of sleeping over, you’d take a liking to his idea of moving into a small and cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city, where there’s no one around to bother you except each other. Maybe. Who knows.
-
Finals were almost over, and the Library was seeing a reduction in visitors. The staff was partly relieved, enjoying the empty space and not having to be bothered to tell students to be quiet, confiscate their Cheeto bags (even though there’s a bold NO EATING sign at almost every table), and wake up tired students from their naps to tell them they were closing. But there was one visitor who came almost daily and sat at the same exact spot in the same exact section like clockwork. The Historical Fiction section. 
The librarians didn’t know what his deal was. He’d come in with absolutely nothing, no backpack, no laptop, and no textbook to indicate if he was taking a summer class at least. Sometimes, he’d take a book off the historical fiction shelf and crack it open, although, unbeknownst to the library staff, he wasn’t actually reading anything. He tried to, but then his head would get fuzzy and he’d get lost in thought, his eyes darting around every time he heard the Library door open or footsteps approach his section, only for it to be another student or a staff member, and when he’d sigh and look back down at his book, he’d forget where he left off and start from the beginning again. 
They didn’t know he was waiting on a girl. If they did, they would probably feel bad for him, and maybe even find his efforts to be a little pathetic. But to Yunho, it didn’t matter what they thought. Being the tortured romantic that he was, he still had hope that you two would be together again. He wasn’t going to crawl back to you like all the other times. Instead, he was going to wait. He believed the day would come where you’d grow sick from your passing relationships and realize your true feelings for him. And when you realize that, you’ll come running to the Library where you two first met, and you would find him there, sitting at your table in your special little corner of the Library. He’d greet you with a friendly smile, and pull out a chair for you, and you two would pick up where you left off as if nothing else ever happened. Maybe then he’d take you out on a real date, maybe to a fancy restaurant which neither of you could pronounce the name of, and afterward, you’d crash at his place and lay in his arms just as you did that night, and he’d whisper corny jokes into your hair, both of you laughing softly until you finally fell asleep. Maybe, after a while of sleeping over, you’d take a liking to his idea of moving into a small and cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city, where there’s no one around to bother you except each other. Maybe. Who knows. 
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demonicbaby666 · 1 year
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"Are you listening?"
One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists
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Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader
Genre: Smut 
Words: 3.4k+
Warnings: SMUT (R & E receiving), swearing, top!Emily, bottom/switch!reader, fingering, oral sex, semi-public sex (office sex), tinniest bit of degradation.
Summary: There's not really a plot here, just a bit of office sex fuelled by Emily reprimanding you for not listening in the field/in general.
A/n: As always- apologises for any mistakes. Please do let me know if you catch anything I’ve missed, or if I’ve missed something from the warnings 💜
You were sitting in Emily’s office, receiving an ear full; following up on a suspect alone did not bode well with her and you were feeling and seeing the full brunt of her wrath. She had made a point of not calling the rest of the team in, which you both appreciated and despised her for. It only meant you were alone having to manage your own shame spiral for your ‘insubordination’. Which was, in layman's terms, ridiculous. But what was even more ridiculous was how low the shirt Emily had conscientiously decided to wear that day. 
When she leant over, hands braced on the desk, it was painstakingly hard not to let your eyes drop just a few inches, she had to know it too because every time you dared to sneak a look south, a faint smirk flickered across her lips. 
“Are you listening?”
You weren’t. 
“Yes. I messed up, you’re pissed off, I won’t do it again.” 
There were quite a few things you could have said that would have got you out of that office a lot faster, and that was not one of them. When you looked into her eyes your stomach dropped, suddenly winding Emily up didn’t seem like such a good idea. 
The whites of her eyes doubled in size, dilated pupils bore down on you, burning two lazer rays right through you. She arched an eyebrow, pressing her lips together, practically huffing steam out of her nose with each breath. Fear, shame and dread were all emotions appropriate for the current situation you’d clearly aggravated, arousal however, was not. 
Emily pushed herself off the desk, circling around until she was barely half a meter away, leaning back, hands crossed, staring at you like a predator to their prey. The silence was deafening, the faint ticking of the clock in time with the thudding of Emily’s shoe against the carpeted floor was driving you mad, each second stretching out for what seemed like hours. 
You were both waiting for something, and you both knew what. She wanted an apology and you wanted out, the two worked hand in hand, yet you sat there, the magic words refusing to come out. There was something else, the fire in her eyes wasn’t just from anger and you needed to know what it was. 
“You’re a stubborn asshole, you know that?” A smirk ghosted over her lips, coffee orbs grew darker, without even knowing it, Emily had baited you - with that elusive smile - into a trap you had no qualms falling into. 
“I do.”
Up on your feet in milliseconds, you surged forward at the same time as Emily, meeting her half way between her desk and the chair you’d previously been perched in. Eager hands gripped onto your waist, pulling you into an embrace you needed no encouragement for, which you showed as you mirrored her enthusiasm, anchoring your hands around her neck, latching them onto each other, leaving her all but trapped in your arms, and you in hers. Two sets of lips found each other, meeting for a kiss that burned through your whole body, faster than should be humanly possible; leaving behind a pile of soot that had already set about dirtying your ‘clean’ record of office affairs.
Sure, you’d stolen a couple looks Emily’s way, she’d never seemed to notice, or if she did, didn’t mind in the least bit. When she’d caught you with your eyes glued to her chest it was hard to reply with anything other than a sheepish shrug and awkward smile - the kind of smile that says, ‘well you caught me, and I don’t exactly know what else to do so I’m going to shrug and pray you don’t report me to HR.’ - that kind of smile.
It was almost impossible to pull away from her lips and think logically, and as her lips continued to what can only be described as brutally attack yours, you allowed yourself two more minutes, vowing once the infernal ticking had reached the ripe number of 120, you’d pull yourself away and deal with the repercussions, preferably by avoiding them entirely. 
Her lips were soft, coffee lingered on her tongue, sweeping the length of your bottom lip, it was soft and polite, nothing you’d expect from an intense heat of the moment kiss, but that’s what it was, slower, softer and gentler; slow enough to serve you a reminder you were nearing a full minute in. 
Racing against time that would soon be forgotten entirely, you let her in, welcoming the strong, nutty, smoky aroma with a minty slide of your tongue against hers. 40 ticks left. The two flavours danced in your mouth, and you’d never tasted anything better, a deep exploration was taking place within the cove of your mouth, every nook being explored, measurements being mentally taken and placed for safe keeping, 20 ticks left. 
A small moan escaped your lips when Emily’s tongue found the roof of your mouth, brushing along small ridges that felt smooth under the pressure of her tongue. A chilling breeze grazed the skin of your hips, then cold fingers slid down the material and back up until they were warmed with the heat you were radiating. The feel of her fingers on your bare skin drowned the whole world out, not a single chime could have penetrated the thick outer wall of fire that was bubbling within you and flowing through the room. 
Minus 10 ticks and hands were aimlessly wandering the planes of your stomach, back and ribs, progressively getting higher and higher. There was next to no air left in your lungs and it was hard to tell whether the shaking of your legs was from oxygen deprivation or the all-consuming urge to take things further. 
Emily’s hand firmly cupped your left breast and all the air lost was suddenly found within one harsh breath in, breaking the kiss. For those few moments you stood in the eye of the storm, different possibilities surrounding you, not having yet consumed you, but taunting you with their presence. Looking into her near blackened eyes, you saw a modicum of emotions swirling in the chocolate pupils, dark tendrils of lust ebbed and darkened the rings, whilst beneath the surface you could see a glimmer of doubt, regret, something else. Then in the blink of an eye it was gone. 
There was barely a slither of brown in the sea of black wanting, the predatorial look boring down once more, working your stomach into knots and sending blood straight to your head. The internal battle ceased and was no more when the silence was broken by Emily. 
“On your knees.” She calmly said, “now.” 
It was almost embarrassing how fast you did as you were told, if it hadn’t been for the soft carpet that lined the floor of Emily’s office, your knees would have shattered, not that it would have stopped you. Looking through your lashes, you saw her standing tall, grinning like a Cheshire cat with a quirked eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your sudden will to obey.  
“Look at that, you can listen.” 
The remark lingered for all of two seconds before you did exactly the opposite, hands darting to her hip of their own accord, ripping the shirt out from the trousers they were neatly tucked into. The shock registering on Emily’s face quickly subsided and any thoughts of interfering disappeared when you brought your lips to freshly exposed skin, peppering a trail of kisses along her stomach, then hip to hip, sucking gently, leaving behind a visual path of red blotches that mapped a course down to where she most needed you. 
A small hum came from above you. Peering up, Emily’s eyes were shut, her bottom lip wedged between her teeth, trying - unsuccessfully - to stop any noise from passing through her lips. It was easy to see she was enjoying herself. 
You noted the way she looked, her cheeks were flush, chest rising and falling faster than normal. You were doing this her, hand delivering small kisses that were leaving her powerless and at your mercy. Yet, something niggled away at you, reminding you, you weren’t the one who gave the orders, but what was the harm in testing that theory. 
Feeling more secure in your actions, you pushed on her waist, forcing her to stubble back until she was leaning back on her desk. Shuffling along the floor with her, you continued to work the open space between her hips, moving a hand southward to pop the button of her slacks and pull her zipper down. When she pushed herself off the desk ever so slightly, you took it as an indication to keep going, pulling the trousers down her legs until the material pooled at her ankles, before being swept away to the side, leaving her in just a button up shirt and lacy black underwear. 
“Inside me.” She breathed out, eyes pinned down onto you, “Now.”
“Are you sure?” you dared to ask, whispering over the sound of your own beating heart. 
“Did I stutter?” Her eyes were colder, demanding and she had taken on the familiar tone of unit chief, plucking elements of the role she wanted - the power it gave her - projecting that dominance over every word that danced from her lips, and it was working. 
Her panties quickly joined the discarded trousers on the floor, and you refocussed your attention to the mouth-watering sight in front of you. The smell of her slick arousal flooded all your senses, blinding ever logical thought that once took residence within your mind, all you knew in that moment was Emily, and you wanted all of her. 
Edging closer you ran your tongue through wet folds, quietly moaning into Emily’s core, tangy sweet flavours frolicked and burst to life in your mouth, licking your tastebuds and you knew that you had found your new drug, your new addiction. You took her clit into your mouth, sucking lightly on the delicate bud. Finding a steady pace, you started to switch between sucking and licking, revelling at the small mewls that were being emitted from above you. 
Along with the heavenly symphony of sounds you were pulling from Emily it was the sight of her struggling against her body’s instinct that spurred you on, the heaving of her chest, her teeth brutally holding her kiss stained lips between them, her hips swaying in time with your tongue. Taking one hand off the desk she ran her finger through your hair before latching on tightly, holding you in place. 
“Put your fingers in me.” Emily breathlessly moaned, never taking her eyes off of you whilst you continued to ravish her. Two fingers slithered into Emily; needing no further instruction, you began pumping them in and out at a controlled pace. 
“More.” 
Filling her tight canal, a third finger slipped inside, following in suit and accelerating the pace and rhythm previously set. Your tongue continued to work at her clit, running circles over it faster and faster, fingernails grazed your scalp and the thighs perched either side of your head struggled to hold themselves up, shaking more and more with each lick, with each thrust. 
Using your free hand, you placed Emily’s left thigh over your shoulder. The new position offering a delicious opportunity to curl your fingers and caress her g-spot, toppling her over the edge. Nails clawed into your skin, painfully clasping around your hair, her neck arched, black hair tussled over her back, her hand flying over her mouth in an effort to muffle the roaring moan that was brewing in her throat. 
To anyone who was listening in, it would have just sounded like a loud groan, which wasn't out of the ordinary, all the same, stopped you from pushing Emily into another orgasm. Instead, you opted for slowing down and helping her ride out every ounce of pleasure she could until her fingers released their tight grip and her breathing steadied. 
Once Emily had regained control over herself, running her fingers through her hair, focussing on her breathing, she removed her thigh from your shoulder and leered down at you.
“Up.” 
Fumbling a second too long for Emily’s liking, she gripped your shirt, yanking you up to your feet and flipped you both around. Piles of paper were swept to the side, swaying, and dropping to the floor before hands flipped you around again and slammed your chest down against hard mahogany, everything was happening too fast, stars swam across you line of sight, the room swayed from the sudden dizziness that swarmed your sense of gravity. Cold air hitting your centre anchored you back to the here and down, looking back to see Emily had made swift work of removing your jeans and adding them to the growing pile of discarded clothes.  
“You’re going to keep quiet unless you want someone to come in and see me fucking you on this desk like the dirty girl you are.” 
“I-” 
Cutting you off, the weight of Emily’s upper body pressed against your back, hot breath tickling the shell of your ear. 
“When will you learn to just do as you’re fucking told?” she husked sharply, taking a lobe into her hot mouth and biting down, sending shivers down your spine, and a pool of wetness between your legs. Quiet whimpers echoed through the room when Emily’s lips claimed your neck, salaciously sucking and laving small portions of skin into her mouth, releasing them only to move onto the next. Without warning two fingers pushed deep and hard into you. 
“Oh fuck.” you sobbed out, helplessly trying to keep quiet, when all you wanted was the complete opposite. Mimicking her previous action, your bottom lip wedged itself between two rows of pearly whites, biting down, simultaneously trying to locate the ability to breathe again. 
A hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pushing you further into the desk, and stopping you from following Emily as she steeled her spine and stood upright behind you, fingers still deep inside you, unmoving around your twitching walls. 
“Think you can follow orders?” Emily teased. 
She knew exactly what you wanted, and she knew she had you in the palm of her hands, ready to beg for it, she knew she was the only person with the ability to quench your thirst. You’d have done anything just to feel movement in you, to have your insatiable appetite finally fed with the sound of your own screams echoing in your ears. 
And that is why you said nothing, made no arguments, there was no reason to. She wanted this as much as you did, deep within those brown eyes burned a fire so hot you knew it would eventually come to consume you, there was no point preventing the inevitable - is what you told yourself - eagerly nodding against the desk. 
“Good girl.” 
An instant reward was delivered for your obedience, fingers twisted inside of you, then began pumping hard and fast. Your hips jerked forward, not seeking to get away, instead looking for a hard surface to harbour yourself to, needing to experience every waking moment of this; the full force of each thrust, remember every wave of pleasure that swept over your body and consumed your entire being to the point you thought, only there in that office was where you’d ever know true pleasure. 
Knuckles whitened under the pressured grip you’d forced your hands to take on the edge of the desk. Your breath was coming out in sharp bursts, making it near impossible to take in sufficient amounts of air through your nose. The only option was to pry your lip from your teeth and hope you had the willpower to stop any sounds that threatened to spill from your agape mouth. 
The hand pushing you against the desk set about finding a new home, moving down your back, curling round your torso and slowly working downwards to your clit, where it finally settled, hovering over the small delicate bundle of nerves. 
Her fingers continued to slide in and out, picking up more speed and vigour when they were joined by a third, then a fourth, forcing you to bite down on your arm to stop a scream from alerting the whole office to what exactly was going on. Your hips were grinding back and forth against her fingers until you were writhing beneath her, your whole body on fire teetering on the cusp of your orgasm.
Another wave of pleasure crested over your body when two finger pressed down on your clit, drawing small circles over it, switching tempo with every other slide of her fingers, gradually reaching an earth-shattering speed that had your knees giving out and small cries to bury deep into your skin, skin that now had two crescent shaped bite marked etched into it.  
Your mind was a mess, body out of control, the pressure in your abdomen was at an all-time high, short shaky breaths passed in and out of your nose, some interrupted with small moans breaking and crackling in your throat. You tightened around her, feeling her more than ever, and with three more partially vigorous jabs of Emily’s supple fingers, you folded; silently screaming, reaching the height of your pleasure, there was nothing more to be done other than involuntarily roll your hips backwards, riding out every second of your powerful orgasm. 
With exhaustion weighing heavy on every muscle, you let your body stay slumped on the desk till you found some of the composure you lost whilst riding Emily’s fingers, fucking you from behind within earshot of the people you work with on the daily. 
Unwillingly, you had to admit, there was something precariously arousing about it. A different heat travelled through your body. One that spiralled in your stomach, nibbled away at your pride, you were lying face down on your boss’s desk, half naked, leaking down your thigh, still wanting more. It was all wrong, yet so right. 
The ticking of the clock rang through the silence, hands wrapped around your waist, softer than any touch you had felt before. Gently Emily guided you up, planting her hands firmly on your waist - in case your quivering legs buckled under you - she turned you around to face her and leaned in to press a light kiss against your lips, which you in turn melted into. 
Flinging your hands over her shoulders you let her take charge of the kiss, keeping it slow and steady, hands moving down to cup your ass and hoist your thighs around her midsection. The two of you stayed that way for what you told yourself was an ‘appropriate’ length of time, lips encapsulating each other, hands roaming freely, just feeling your lithe bodies pressed against one another. 
“Next time, try to listen to what I have to say instead of gluing your eyes to my chest.” Emily said, breaking you out of your trance, sat behind her desk, casually enough that doubt flickered in your mind, maybe you were wrong, did you get lost in a sea of cleavage and fall into a makeshift reality - a detailed one at that - of Emily having her way with you. The bite mark on your arm, the feelings tingling through your body in all the places she had touched you, they were real, they had to be. 
“That wasn’t-” there was no point fighting back, you were too confused, too shocked with whatever had just happened either in the compounds of your mind or pressed up against that desk. You turned and started walking to the door.
“I’ll see you at my place. Eight o’clock. Don’t be late.” Her voice boomed from behind you. Looking back at her, her eyes were lazily roaming over scattered paperwork until they met your gaze. An eyebrow quirked up, accompanied by a pert smile, she began to survey the sight in front of her, eyes dropping at the nape of your neck. 
Pushing her chair back and striding towards you, butterflies fluttered low in your stomach at the authority she exuded from doing something as simple as walking. She ran her fingers through locks of your hair, moving them so they cascaded over your shoulder and were snug around your face, concealing your neck. 
“Don’t want anyone seeing what a good girl you were for me, do we?” She teased, placing a smirked peck to your lips and pulling the door open behind you.
Not a daydream, definitely not a daydream. 
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dixons-sunshine · 14 days
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Imagine this…. for the young daryl X young reader au
Reader has a camcorder which she carries around when her and daryl go on little trips and they end up finding it again after years for whatever reason and it’s a nice little fluffy scene where they relive earlier times together before everything
A Trip Down Memory Lane | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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*GIF isn't mine.*
Summary: While unpacking your things for your new apartment with Daryl, you stumbled across an old video camera you had used to film little moments between you and Daryl in your teen years. A visit down memory lane gives Daryl the push he needed to ask you something important.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Pre outbreak.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.
Warnings: Swearing.
Word count: 1.5k
A/n: This request was so cute! I hope you don't mind that I paired it with another idea I had. It just seemed like it would fit perfectly. And I made Daryl romantic in this because he's a romantic deep down.
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“Dear god, what the fuck was I thinking? That style was horrible!”
Daryl laughed at your comment, pulling you closer into his side. “I think ya looked cute. Kinda like Minnie Mouse in a way.”
“That doesn't make it any less horrible. Polka dots and frilly pink headbands are not my thing,” you laughed, skipping to the next video on the video camera you had found.
You and Daryl were in the midst of unpacking the boxes with all of your things. The two of you had just recently found a cheap enough apartment to rent and were busy organising everything when you had stumbled upon an old video camera that you had used when you were teenagers. Everything else was quickly forgotten as you and Daryl sat in the middle of what should be the living room, surrounded by a bunch of boxes as you took a trip down memory lane.
“Fuck, please tell me tha' ain't me,” Daryl groaned when a younger version of him appeared on the screen. “Jesus, buddy. Ya ever heard of sunlight? It'd do ya good to work on yer tan. Ya look like a fuckin' sheet of paper.”
You chuckled at the comment, nodding your head in agreement. “You do kinda look pale in this.”
“Looks like I needed at least 50 blood transfusions. M'surprised I didn't drop dead back then,” Daryl agreed, shaking his head in disapproval of his former self. “Can't believe s'already been a decade. Feels like jus' yesterday when we were back in yer mom's trailer.”
“Time flies. Now we're moving in to what is hopefully our last apartment for a while. You've got a great job down at that motorcycle repair shop and I've got a great teaching gig,” you replied, placing the video camera down next to you.
Daryl nodded. “Mhm,” he agreed, before giving you a playful smile. “Dun' know 'bout yer gig, though. Those five year olds are gremlins. They're gon' eat ya alive when ya start on Monday. Ya dun' stand a chance.”
You faked an offended gasp and shoved him lightly, eliciting a laugh from him. “I'll have you know, Mr Dixon, that I'm more than capable of handling a couple of five year olds. I've been doing it for two years.”
Daryl smiled and pulled you closer into his side, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah, I know. S'those high schoolers yer plannin' on teachin' one day tha's gon' eat ya up. Teenagers are the real ones ya should look out for.”
“Luckily that won't be for a while. I'm quite content on just teaching the little ones for now,” you responded, nuzzling your face into his chest. “And teenagers aren't that bad. Most of them are just misunderstood. Some of them are in situations a lot like—”
Despite cutting yourself off, Daryl knew exactly what you meant. If it were any other person, Daryl would've gotten pissed, but it wasn't just any other person. It was you, the love of his life, the person who's stuck with him despite everything, because of everything. He wouldn't fault you for one slip up. God only knows he'd said so much worse a couple of years ago, but you forgave him.
You were amazing to him like that.
“Situations a lot like wha' I went through,” Daryl finished for you, letting out a deep sigh.
“Sorry,” you hurriedly apologised, pulling back slightly to look into your boyfriend's eyes. “I didn't mean to bring it up. I—”
A tender kiss to your lips shut you up instantly. When Daryl pulled back, he gave you a reassuring smile. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he'd get mad at you for one minor slip of the tongue.
“S'alrigh',” he reassured you. “M'not mad. And yer righ'. There's way too many kids tha' go through wha' I went through. Tha's why any highschool would be lucky to have ya. Ya could help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. No, ya will help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. Jus' like ya helped me.”
You smiled and gently cupped his cheek, bringing him into a sweet kiss. “I love you,” you whispered when you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.
“I love ya too. More than ya'll ever know,” he responded, before pulling away and reaching for something in his pocket. “But maybe this will give ya a glimmer of how much I love ya.”
You gasped in surprise, happy tears welling up in your eyes. A choked up laugh escaped you, ecstasy flooding through your body as your eyes flickered between the man you loved and the small, round object he held delicately between his fingers.
A ring.
“I know this ain't the most expensive ring out there, and it dun' have some big diamond in the middle tha's worth more than this apartment, but m'hopin' s'enough. If I could get a better one, I would, and I will someday. Someday when I finally get promoted and yer teachin' high schoolers, when we dun' have to worry 'bout rent and shit like tha'.”
You smiled through your tears, another small laugh escaping. “Daryl—”
“Nah, please let me finish 'fore I chicken out,” he cut you off. When you nodded, he continued. “Ya've always been there fer me. Ever since we were twelve and ya started joinin' me by tha' river. When I needed ya the most, ya were always there with a reassurin' smile and a willin' ear. Then ya became my girlfriend ten years ago, and despite everythin', ya've stuck with me. Despite my outbursts, my baggage, my brother...”
You laughed at that. “I really don't like your brother.”
Daryl chuckled and nodded. “I know, but ya stayed. Fer ten years now, ya've been by my side. Yer my best friend, my partner in crime, the love of my life, and there's no one I wanna spend the rest of my days with than the beautiful, kind, funny, smart woman right in front of me. Yer my ray of sunshine, the one who always manages to make me feel better.”
Daryl adjusted himself until he was on one knee in front of you. Your breath got caught in your throat, and you scrambled to sit on your knees, your eyes sparkling in wonder as the ring glinted in the light.
“Sunshine, would ya do me the honour of bein' my wife?”
Words completely eluded you at that moment. You quickly grabbed his face and brought him into a kiss, that particular kiss conveying more than words ever could. When you pulled away, you smiled softly at him.
“Yes, I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask.”
Daryl let out a sigh of relief and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, tha' was nerve wrackin'.”
You laughed as you pulled away from the hug. “I bet. You know, for a man of few words, that speech was kind of incredible. It definitely beat the one I had planned for you.”
Daryl frowned in confusion. “Wha' speech fer me?”
Nervously, you reached into your own pocket and pulled out a silver band. Daryl's eyes widened in surprise as you showed him the ring you had.
“I was kinda getting fed up with waiting for you to pop the question, so I was gonna take matters into my own hands.”
Daryl let out a laugh of surprise and shook his head. “Wow,” he mused. “Gender roles be damned, huh?”
“Damn straight,” you agreed, before motioning to the ring in his hand. “You can slip the ring on my finger, Mr Dixon.”
Complying with your request, he slipped the ring onto your finger. Before you even had to ask, Daryl extended his left hand to you. You smiled and slipped his own ring onto his finger.
Looking at the ring, Daryl smiled fondly. “Ya continue to surprise me everyday, Mrs Dixon.”
“I'm not a Dixon yet,” you reminded him, allowing him to pull you into his arms for the millionth time that day. “But I could be one soon. Maybe tomorrow, even.”
“Ya suggestin' we elope?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at the idea—an idea that sounded absolutely perfect to him. “Yer mom would kill us if she found out.”
“Well,” you began, admiring the ring on your finger. “It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Besides, we don't need some elaborate wedding to show how much we love each other. All we need is each other, and someone willing to officiate. We can go to the courthouse tomorrow.”
“Tha' sounds absolutely perfect,” Daryl agreed, pressing a kiss to your head.
“By the way, if you buy me another ring in the future to replace this one, I will be pissed. This ring is perfect.”
“Whatever makes ya happy, Mrs Dixon. I love ya.”
“I love you too.”
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Text
Mr. X
The hardest part of being a monsterfucker, as it turns out, is when you're in a situation in which you want to fuck the monster, but the monster was sent to kill you.
The large, tyrannical, immensely powerful being chasing you at a constant power-walk was drool-worthy, but he'd also taken multiple swings at you, given his orders and all. You've been forced to run at the merest glimpse of him for over an hour, when all you really want to do is shove him down on his back, climb on his dick, and ride him until sunrise.
It put you in the rather annoying position of being wet as hell even as you ran from him.
Lucky for you, it was easy to lose him, and from certain vantage points you got to see exactly how his mind ticked when he didn't have a target to follow.
His intelligence left a lot to be desired, to put it mildly. Without a target, he was reduced to checking in doors and windows, sometimes walking in circles until he could make a decision. And his object permanence was non-existent too, from how he stopped dead whenever he lost sight of whatever it was he was chasing. You can almost see him rebooting whenever it happened.
Which meant, after an hour of this, you were confident you could find a place to hide for a few minutes to rub one out and release this pressure that had built up inside you.
There was no way he'd find you before you were done, and you found him so god-damned attractive it'd left you blue-balled. You needed release.
Damn that sexy trenchcoat-wearing wall of mutant muscle.
By a stroke of luck, you find yourself in a hotel full of rooms in which you can relax on an actual bed to get this done. So you pick one, divest yourself of your bottoms, and lay out on your back to finish yourself off.
You close your eyes, envisioning that sexy beast, and bite your lip as you begin stroking yourself the way you like. Your walls quiver, wanting to be filled, as you work yourself, the pleasure you feel as you finally begin assuaging this pressure a thing of wonder.
It has you shivering and quaking in no time, a clear testament to just how badly that monster of a man had aroused you just by existing where you can't touch him.
What you were unaware of, as you touch yourself, is the fact that you hadn't fully closed the door to this room, and you didn't notice you'd attracted a voyeur.
The object of your masturbatory fantasies was right outside the room, able to see you legs-splayed on the bed as you play with yourself. He nudges the door slightly more open for a better look, his brain jamming with conflicting information.
He'd been ordered to eliminate all "threats", but right then you don't look threatening. You look... something, and it evokes a certain, unfamiliar kind of heat in him as he watches you. It even stirs a particular rhythmic, pulsing movement in his groin, trapped as it is in his trousers.
He struggles to comprehend what's happening as he looks between your rapidly-moving fingers and his own growing erection, attempting to process the surprising desire sparking in him. Eventually he gets the bright idea to tug open his pants to relieve the pressure on his dick, and he cants his head at how thick and hard it'd become.
It doesn't take him long to establish a direct connection between his erection and your open legs. Every time he looks at you, at your parted thighs and beckoning juncture, his cock surges with more blood, more need.
There's not a lot going on in his head, to put it gently, so when he gets even a vague indication of a direction, he follows it. And, after a few minutes of watching you, it clicks in his mind that his cock wants to be inside that wet, glistening opening between your legs.
He strides over to you, then, phallus exposed and so hard it's at an upwards angle. You still don't notice until you suddenly recognize his footfalls approaching you.
You jolt at the sound, terror piercing you at your vulnerable position (alongside a pulse of arousal you could never smother), and you start to scramble up to run -- only for him to catch your knee, tugging you towards the foot of the bed where he now stands.
It takes you a whole second to recognize that he's standing there with a raging hard-on and then another few seconds to make the connection.
Holy shit, had he really come here to fuck you -- fulfilling your raunchiest dreams in the process?
Evidently so, because he starts examining your entrance with his fingers, gently pulling on your skin to open it up to his viewing pleasure.
Your heart skips a beat. But, wet as you are, you really don't think it's a good idea to take a cock his size (not monstrously big for his size, but he himself is monstrously big, so it's still the heftiest thing you've ever had this close to your cunt) without some prep first.
You gesture and ask for patience, scooching closer to sit at the edge of the bed instead. He cants his head at you in total confusion, even as you bring your hands and mouth to his cock and begin wetting it for yourself.
His face remains impassive the entire time you're sucking him off, all the while analyzing his flavor and struggling with your own disbelief at the situation.
This dangerous bastard who'd obviously been trying to kill you earlier now wants to fuck you, is that it? Well, far be it from you to look a gift horse in the cock, and you're fairly certain that you can maybe get away from him after fucking him silly if he suddenly turns homicidal afterwards.
He's hard as actual stone as you work him, and his cock pulses with pleasure the entire time. It's almost funny; the pulses are so strong it physically moves your head each time--
Suddenly he makes a gruff noise and hot cum floods into your mouth, forcing you to release him. You're a little too stunned by the quick orgasm to even move aside as he keeps pumping lance after lance of cum on you, your hands working him as you gaze up at him in a mixture of disbelief and disappointment.
Was that it?!
You'd barely been sucking him for a minute, and now he was painting everything from your hair to your tits in lances of his thick, hot cum. You felt like a glazed donut.
But, to your surprise and delight, he wasn't done. He came, but he was still hard, and you think maybe the hard lines of his face had softened slightly from it.
Before you can say or do anything else, he pushes you back and tugs your legs open for him again. You bluster and stutter as he starts trying to line his cock up to your twat, urging him to go slow for you and taking over the task of getting the head in place.
You'd be lying if you tried to say you weren't already seconds from your own orgasm just anticipating this, your walls quivering with desire for this beast.
It was such a quick transition from him cumming to him trying to enter you that you can feel the heat of his semen on your skin as the head prods your lower lips (not to mention the flood of it on your head and chest), and it makes you shiver.
You almost climax as the head catches on your opening and slips inside, forcing your walls open for the rest of him. Then he begins thrusting, aiming for depth, and there's little you can do to dissuade him; you can't reach his hips with your hands to slow him and he has your legs by the knees, keeping you wide open for him.
But he listens and obeys well, you discover as you breathlessly direct him to be slower and gentler. He's so big and your walls so untrained for something his size that it's a struggle to accept him, and you find yourself airily gasping commands.
He strains you, and yet the pleasure you feel as he gains depth is out of this world. It feels like your walls are threatening to tear with every thrust he gives you, yet the combined pleasure of him slipping in and out of your gushing walls and the sheer knowledge of what's fucking you has your head spinning with ecstasy.
You cum before he's even halfway buried inside you, quivering and moaning on the bed. Your walls spasm and squeeze him inside you as your entire body is flooded with pleasure, basking in how damned good it feels.
Your body rocks with his thrusts for a moment as he keeps going through your orgasm -- then pauses with his own low groan, his cock giving its own pulses inside you. Your own pleasure only spikes higher every time that cock shifts inside you, heat pouring into you, and you realize with another beat of disbelief that he's cumming again.
Inside you.
Holy Hell, your orgasm triggered a second one for him!
That pulls a louder, lewder moan out of you and you wriggle your hips, suddenly wanting him even deeper. He's almost at your cervix already with half his shaft still outside of you, but you want all of him in you, as deep as he can reach.
A glimmer of hope reaches you as you come down from your high, recalling how he came all over your face and remained hard; surely him cumming inside you will have the same results? You don't want this to end yet.
You don't want this to end ever.
To your delight, he seems to have the same idea. It only takes him a moment of his own basking before he begins thrusting again, going at the same speed as before.
Now, though... now you want more. Your walls are more relaxed and wetter than ever thanks to your combined orgasms, so you spur him on with demands of deeper and harder and faster.
You were ready for the beast, now.
He obeys, again, his head canting as he watches you from above. He releases your knees to lean over you on his hands, his hips pumping you in accordance with your demands.
It doesn't take him but a few thrusts to hit your cervix.
And then he keeps going.
Your cunt stretches for him above and beyond what you'd ever thought it could, accepting every thrust of hard-as-iron member. It's so thick -- and, soon, so deep -- that it steals your breath, making you fall totally slack underneath him.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth salivates. You can hear nothing except the creak of the bed, the rustle of his leathers, and your own wheezing moans. You can feel nothing except the rocking of your body, the stretch of your belly, and the raw, overwhelming pleasure that spikes from your cunt to every inch of you with each thrust into you.
Mr. X isn't a romantic lover. He doesn't know what he's doing. He can only obey orders, and right now, you're the only source of them. But he's obviously enjoying himself, his hot cum inside you squelching with his movements and easing his way to full depth inside you.
You keep giving breathless commands as he goes, and soon your desires result in him jackhammering you to a degree you've never had before. You can't even be sure, as he's going at it, that you can survive it, but you're loving how fast and hard he's taking you.
You climax again in short order, once he's up to speed -- which is unfortunate, because the flood of overwhelming pleasure in you renders you unable to move or breathe, let alone speak, and his relentless fucking is entirely too much for you mid-orgasm.
You seize up from your orgasm, spasming, all your muscles clenching and contracting intermittently. Your walls attempt to strangle his pistoning cock, simultaneously trying to force it out of you for a reprieve and pull it wholly inside you and keep it there while you cum on it.
You shatter for him, all of your senses whiting out for a beat. Your ears start ringing, your heart thundering away in your ribs, heat flooding every inch of you from the onslaught of pleasure -- and still he keeps pumping you, keeps fucking you.
You need it to stop, one way or the other, but you can't articulate your need in the midst of your climax.
When your breath finally escapes your burning lungs, it's at a deep, heavy moan the likes of which you've never heard come out of your own throat. Your body is quaking everywhere from the force of your climax and the hard pounding you're receiving, and your walls haven't stopped trying to clamp down on the cock ruining it.
Your first attempts at begging him to stop and give you a moment are fumbling mocks of words, your tongue unable to work right just yet. Your hands clumsily swat at his arms, instinctively trying to find something to grip onto so you can physically stop him.
He does -- finally. He stops, and as your spinning mind slowly begins to settle, you realize why.
You have no idea when this started, but his cock is pulsing inside you again, his heat surging into you in quick, hard jets. You find yourself gasping in time with each one, your mind frantically analyzing his orgasm to ultimately conclude that this started at some point during your orgasm.
It just lasted all the way through it until now, and you recognize the pulses are steadily slowing to nothing.
In a daze, you look down at yourself -- and your jaw would've dropped open, were it not already slack from your intense climax.
You're a mess. Your belly is stretched around him and has obviously been further rounded by the amount of cum he's pumped into you, but your thighs and pelvis are also splattered with it. His clothes also bear lashes of it from your hard fucking, glossy webs of thick cum branching out from around where his cock parted them.
You wheeze a curse, flopping back on the bed, and find yourself staring up at him. Suddenly a shot of panic hits you, recalling that this monster had very much intended to kill you earlier -- but the panic fades as you start to recognize the look on his face.
It's faint, but he looks more curious than anything.
You swallow past the dryness in your throat and murmur, "Truce?"
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milunalupin · 2 months
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hi!! I would like to request older!reader and older!sirius black where reader ends up saving him from bellatrix’s curse.
ty for requesting !! enjoyyy <3 + ty to my lovie for helping :)
— another one bites the dust (but it's definitely not sirius)
post azkaban!sirius x reader ★ 1.5k words
Lily Evans was your best friend. The two of you had been sorted into Gryffindor as muggleborn witches together and assigned the same dorm. The two of you did everything together, from studying in the library to braiding each others hair down by the Black Lake. Of course being that close meant you had to witness all of James Potter's attempts at winning your best friend over. One time you happened to alone on your way to class when James and the other 'Marauders' had stopped you, begging you for any tips on how to successfully ask Lily out.
"You've gotta let this go. She's way out of your league, you toerag." You had rolled your eyes at him, the boy gaping at your remark as you had always seemed pretty docile. Sirius Black — who you now notice was standing beside the bespectacled boy — barked out a laugh and applauded you, causing a warm feeling in your chest that you would never admit was because of him. Moreover, if James ever asked him to, Sirius wouldn't mind hanging out with you to get information on Lily (and not because he thought you were super cute).
Once James had successfully convinced Lily to date him, you and her had blended in well with the Marauders. When Lily and James would have their couple time, you would play chess with Peter and study with Remus in the common room. Sirius even let you join in on planning and performing their famous pranks (which did not jumpstart a crush on him or anything). The six of you had become your own little family, and when James had proposed to Lily after graduation it was no surprise who the groomsmen and maid of honor would be.
Meanwhile you had also fallen in love with Sirius Black during your time at Hogwarts, and the two of you had become attached at the hip. Sirius would walk with you to class, and you'd spend nights in the astronomy tower talking about the future.
You were each other's safe space, and Sirius loved you so deeply, which led to a lot of heartbreak the the night Lily and James were killed and your boyfriend was sent to Azkaban for the rest of his life for being the one who did it. You spent the next twelve years working under the Department of Magical Law enforcement as an investigator, trying to convince the Ministry that Sirius would never in a million years do anything to hurt his friend, much less kill him and his wife. They ignored you, dismissing your claims as a fit of hysteria, weaponizing your grief against you. You had been nonstop trying to figure out what exactly happened that night, regularly exchanging letters with Remus until he sent his final one, asking you to refrain from sending any more, as he felt too betrayed by Sirius to hear any of your theories.
The moment Peter had been revealed as the true murderer, Remus had come by your flat to apologize in person, the two of you reconciling over tea and teary hugs. When Sirius finally came back things were slow to return to "normal", but the two of you were just as in love with each other as you were back at Hogwarts. Because of his current situation with the Ministry, you moved in with him at 12 Grimmauld Place, then agreeing immediately when Dumbledore had come to the two of you about reassembling the Order of the Phoenix.
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"You're a cheater Sirius Black, I don't want to play anymore." You huffed, standing up and throwing the playing cards down on the coffee table. The two of you were playing cards on the couch in Grimmauld place, trying to have a relaxing night amidst the recent chaos. Sirius cooed and pulled you down to sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing sweet kisses to your shoulder. "Oh you'll survive, Mrs. Black."
The name alone caused you to melt into him, but the way he was looking at you in that moment made you feel like a teenager again, shy and in love with the boy before you. "Mrs. Black? We're not even engaged, love."
He grabbed your left hand, his thumb running over your ring finger, his voice becoming as soft as his touch. "It's coming, darling, don't you worry."
Your future mother-in-law screeched in horror from her place on the wall. "The most ancient and noble House of Black will not be accepting of a revolting mudblood! Must keep the blood pure, toujous pur!"
"I like to think I've been patient enough." you teased, gesturing to where his mother's portrait hung, the crazy bitch still muttering nonsense to herself.
Sirius sighed and lightly squeezed your hip. "I know m'love, you've been too good to me. Once things blow over a bit, I promise we'll get back to how things used to be, yeah?"
You hummed, brushing the hair out of his face and kissing his forehead. "No need to rush, we've got the rest of our lives, Sirius."
The fireplace suddenly lights up green as Severus comes through, his lip curling on one side as he saw the position you two were in and moved his gaze to somewhere else in the room.
"Severus," Sirius clicked his tongue, cocking his head to the side. "to what do we owe this pleasure?"
"The Dark Lord," his eyes met yours, then shifted to settle on Sirius. "seems to have put an idea in Mr. Potter's head that you were being tortured at the Ministry. He's on his way there to look for you, you are to alert the Order."
You and Sirius stood immediately, thanking Severus as he disappeared again and sending your patronus' to the other Order members. They arrive quickly and the six of you head to the Ministry and apparate down to the lower level chambers, wands at the ready.
Kingsley and Alastor moved towards one group of Death Eaters, with Remus and Tonks on the defense. "Harry, where's Harry?" you were frantic looking for your godson, Sirius right beside you. You find him in combat with Dolohov, rushing to his side just as he hit the dark wizard with a Full Body Bind curse.
"Nice one, Haz!" Sirius praised from a few feet away. Harry beamed at you and you smiled and squeezed his shoulder quickly before heading back over to Sirius.
The chamber was complete chaos, the dark walls lighting up with flashes of all colors, all kinds of hexes and jinxes were being thrown around. You had to admit, Harry and the other students were great at duelling and really kept up with the Order members. Out of the corner of your eye you see your beloved's deranged cousin, her wand locked onto Sirius. Her wand glowed green as she shouted out an unforgivable spell.
You turn around to see him just a few feet from the Veil. "Sirius!" you gasp, immediately casting 'Accio' to pull him out of Bellatrix's way, his hands gripping your waist to steady himself, eyes blown out in shock. You both are staring at each other, eyes watery and chests heaving.
"Too fucking good to me, darling."
Your moment was interrupted by a screeching Bellatrix, sending a 'Confringo' your way. You managed to dodge it but the spell caught the sleeve of Sirius' coat.
"Don't you fucking dare!" you growled, shooting multiple stunning spells at her which she annoyingly kept deflecting. She laughed maniacally as you circled each other, casting spells left and right. The dark witch then shot another spell at Sirius, effectively hitting him in the back then grinning madly at you, "Whoopsie!"
Your heartbeat picked up as you realized where she was standing. You quickly scanned the chamber and it seemed that most of the Death Eaters had fled or been taken down. You'd never killed anyone before, but she was one of Voldemort's strongest followers. Not only that, but she tried to attack your Sirius not just once, not twice, but three times. Your eyes widened as you saw her prepare another curse on him.
"Not my boyfriend, you bitch!"
You cast 'Depulso', throwing her back a few feet into the Veil, immediately sending her into the world of the dead. You stood there frozen, your wand still pointed where Bellatrix once stood. Sirius pulled you back into his arms, whispering "thank you"s and "i love you"s into your ear.
Harry had appeared next as the battle ended, joining in your group hug, the three of you holding each other tight. You kissed the top of your godson's head, no longer unable to hold back your tears.
Harry had come home with you and Sirius that night, having some dinner and then going upstairs to stay in one of the spare rooms. Sirius held you close in bed that night, thanking you once again for saving him. You smiled and squeezed his hand, thanking him for coming back to you all those years ago. You fell asleep that night unaware of the sparkling diamond that was hidden in Sirius' nightstand.
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