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hotchgirlsummer · 1 year

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mess of mine ⤷ aaron hotchner x reader

summary ⤷ aaron hotchner never expected to find an adorable woman when he was out asking around about their unsub. turns out she's all he needs to brighten up his life.

pairing ⤷ aaron hotchner x fem!bimbo!reader

warnings ⤷ unsub takedown. unsub has a knife. mentions of typical cm violence, killing, and general disdain towards women. rossi calls the reader a bimbo lmao

word count ⤷ 6k words

a/n ⤷ bear with me as i am obsessed with the idea of a bimbo being with aaron in the most adorable way possible 😭 and i dont meant bimbo in a derogatory way! but just someone who isn't book smart ig? the reader in this fic i imagine to be so good with fashion in styling so yeah... i know i didnt do justice with the whole narrowing down the search for an unsub or the way they handled the take down but i have to admit this is just self-indulgent as i want be aaron's brainless girl ❤️ anyway, feedback is appreciated for this! might turn this into a mini series so yeah. happy holidays!

✪

“Excuse me, may I speak with you?” A deep voice made Y/N turn around from where she was organizing some of the new clothes that had just arrived. Smiling at the dark-haired man who stood in a crisp suit, she looked at his clothes and pouted, “I’m sorry but we don’t usually sell those suits, we do have some pastel ones in any case you’re interested in those instead.”

Hotch followed the direction in which she pointed and was surprised to see a couple of suits that are, to her credit roughly in his size, but instead of the neutral tones he’d go for they were in pastel pink and purple. Shaking his head and biting down a small smile he pulled for his badge and presented it to her, “Thank you for the recommendations but I’m afraid that’s not what I’m here for.”

Upon looking at the badge her eyes failed to focus on how he was part of the FBI and instead chuckled when she noticed his name, “Heh, Ay-ay-ron.” Her mispronunciation of his name caused his eyebrows to furrow as he gently corrected her, “Aaron, ma’am. Not Ay-ay-ron, I’m afraid.” Her little bubble popped when she looked into his eyes, mesmerized by the deep brown orbs she shook her head and clarified, “Oh I knew that, that was just from the Peele & Key skit. Never knew anyone named Aaron so couldn’t tease anyone by it.”

“Right,” came Hotch’s sharp reply, worried that their possible lead might be a bust due to the witness presenting signs of being dopey due to addiction. “Is there a back office where I can speak to you in private?” She pointed towards a door that had a curtain in front of it, “We can go there, we never let anyone in there because that’s where our safe and transaction lists are!”

As pleased as he was to hear that they keep a record of their transactions, he was becoming more and more alarmed at how easily she was giving away confidential business information. Inside the small room that he concluded acted as their little breakroom with the microwave placed on top of a small fridge, it also served as their surveillance room and like she said, a safe was placed there. He motioned for her to grab a seat and pulled the folder he brought with him. “The reason I’m here today is we were hoping you could point us in the direction of one of your customers.”

Looking up from the files, he was surprised to see that she was looking at him with a giddy smile, “What do you wanna know, Aaron?” Her bliss-like innocence made him think about if he was really going to taint her by telling her the horrors that brought them to this store; but it was quickly shrugged off when he remembered that there was a possibility that she was on some sort of drugs. “There has been a man who may have purchased clothes through your boutique as they have been using the clothes they purchased to redress their victims.”

“How’d you know they bought it from here?” She wondered out loud to which he replied, “We found one of the boutique’s plastic bags near the crime scene. Would you happen to have a log of your transactions?” Deciding against showing her the photos, he simply joined his hands atop the folder and looked at her. She nodded and turned to the computer table where there was a laptop, she placed it in the middle of the table, “Phoebe has me recording customers’ names, what they bought, and how they paid. Just ‘cause last time I had a mom angry with me just because their child bought a top that, like, showed too much cleavage.”

Taking it as she had given him permission to browse through their transactions, Hotch nodded, “And Phoebe is your manager, I’m assuming?” She nodded with a cute smile on her face, “She’s so nice. Real patient with me when I was training. Even taught me tricks on how I can close faster.”

As much as he wanted to direct his full attention to her, he was only able to focus on some parts of it as he was more focused on finding the masterlist of their transactions. Just as he clicked on the file he was greeted with the pop up that was asking him for a password which caused him to look up at her, “It’s asking for a password, would you happen to know what it is?”

For all the times he witnessed someone shake their head, he hated how adorable she looked when she did so with a little pout which made her glossed up lips even more tempting, “Only Phoebe knows it. She changes the password every month and I can’t keep up!” She leaned forward with her manicured nails resting on the top of the table, “One time she mixed in some capital and small letters with some numbers. It was very confusing.”

“I can see why that would be,” Aaron sympathized with her as a small smile broke out of his lipa; normally he’d be irritated with this kind of behavior but there is something endearing about her that made him think otherwise, “Would you mind if I have our technical analyst take a look into it?”

“But how? I don’t know the password and Phoebe didn’t leave a note anywhere!” She was clearly distressed about the whole thing, Hotch could also see the faint traces of frustration at not being able to help further in the investigation. His hand moved as if they had a mind of their own and held onto her smaller one, brushing the back of hers gently, “Well our analyst is like a magician, okay, sweetheart?”

Hypnotized by his caramel eyes and the comfort his touch radiated, she nodded and visibly relaxed, “In the meantime, there is something else you can help me out with, if you’re up for it.” Taking her nod as her consent he then untangled his hand with hers, he tried not to let her disappointed whimper affect him, as he opened the case file and landed on the page where they have already a profile of the unsub, “The man we’re looking for goes here often, he spends a long time looking through the clothes because he’s always looking for a particular detail or design. Whenever you speak to him, he appears nervous or shy, but he has enough charm to have you fooled that he won’t harm you at all.”

Hotch was silently cursing at himself for allowing himself to be distracted at the sight of her glossed up lips pursed as she thought hard about a customer who fit his description; looking at him in an exasperated manner as she pouts at him, clearly frustrated, “I’m sorry, but I can’t focus much right now. I could not even help you out with the password.” He grabbed for her hand once more and stroked the back of it gently, “Don’t be too harsh on yourself, pretty girl,” Instead of expressing surprise like he anticipated she would upon being called the nickname, she seems to be pleased and melts because of it, “Why don’t you close your eyes and take a deep breath,” Following his instructions, she nodded as she closed her eyes and let out a sigh while her hand clutched into his tightly, “Now, go back to a day where he comes in. What do you usually do when the boutique isn’t busy?”

“I like to rearrange the clothes — sometimes I group them by type of clothing, then by color.”

Pleased that she was now calmer which effectively made her able to recall when and how she interacted with the unsub, “That’s good. Now, he walks into the boutique. He sees you rearranging the racks. Does he talk to you right away or go browning?”

“I hear shuffling of the hangers first but I don’t turn yet because I was trying to get rid of the lint in one of the clothes,” She smiles, pleased that she’s being a bit more helpful right now. “Good,” His voice wasn’t the only one soothing her as he was rubbing her knuckles too, “What did he do that drew your attention away from what you were doing?”

“He threw some clothes on the floor, he wasn’t happy with the choices that we had that day.”

“What else did he say or do?” Hotch could see that she was working hard to think back to it, as if the frown lines that were appearing on her forehead wasn’t a clear indicator of it, “He yelled, saying what happened to this store and why did it suddenly turn into a dump. Just because we didn’t have any more available items of what he usually likes.”

She was pouting once more which made his heart flutter once more but the rational part of his brain took over as he inquired, “Were you able to get a good look at his face? Can you make out what he looks like?”

Pursing her lips as she thought about it, she looked at their hands that were still holding onto each other as she spoke, “I did see him, he picked up the clothes and apologies. Said that he just had a bad day at work.”

Hotch smiled and continued to guide her through this interview by saying, “That’s good, now do you see what he looks like, sweetheart?”

“He had very little hair, you know, like a buzz cut. Couldn’t pull it off though,” She giggled as she remembered how uneven the cut looked, “He also had this scar by his cheek,” Using her hand that wasn’t held down, she trailed the tip of her finger to her cheek from her cheekbone down near the side of her lips, “He was taller than me too!” Her excitement of remembering something completely died down when she took a good look at the unit chief in front of her — which worried him slightly but he wouldn’t admit that.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked to which she answered right away, “He was taller than me, but he’s not as tall as you. How tall are you, by the way?”

“6’2. Is there anything else you remember from when you guys spoke?” Aaron felt flustered once more upon her taking interest in him but was able to school his features to not give that surprise away. But his resolve was once again almost crumbling down as she tapped her fingers against his knuckles as she thought hard about her interactions with the unsub, “He returned an item once. Said that when he came up he only noticed a stain there. Phoebe told me to not accept items that have stains or any dirt in them, we always throw the clothes in the wash, you know? But there was this whole queue behind him that I just accepted the return even though I wasn’t supposed to!”

Her whine just added to the long list of what made her even more precious in his opinion as he nodded, “Do you remember where you placed this clothing? Would you mind if I took a look at it?”

Nodding she stood up and led him out of the little break room that they were in walked through the shop’s main floor — and what took the tenured profiler aback was how she did not let go of his hand, which definitely caught sight of Rossi wo was in the middle of a phone call with Garcia when he shot a smirk at the two. When a door opened to reveal another room with a washing and drying machine, and a small sink. “This is where we clean and prepare the clothes before we display them outside.”

Removing her hand from where it was engulfed in his larger one, she rifled and was looking through the four laundry baskets that were in there. Spotting the blouse he returned, she was about to pick out the blouse when he stopped her gently by pulling her arm, “Let me go through them, please.”

She nods and steps aside as she watches him put on some gloves before rifling through the baskets, “Why wouldn’t you let me help you look for it?” Hotch paused briefly and looked back at her, seeing how there was a somber look on her face as she wondered that. “You mentioned that there was dirt on the item he returned, yes?”

Nodding her head she hummed her agreement while he pointed at her hands, “Well I don’t want your pretty hands catching onto the dirt, not when your nails look good.” Complimenting a girl felt foreign to him as he hadn’t done so in a while, but it didn’t feel creepy at all. He felt vindicated when she smiled brightly and displayed one of her hands, “Thanks for noticing! I just got the shellac color done yesterday. I did a purple color last month and decided to go back to my favorite color, pink!”

Her giggles helped ease the dread he felt at the pit of his stomach upon finding the blouse that was definitely returned by their unsub. The stain she was referring to looked like blood and soil. Reaching for his back pocket, he reached for the evidence bag he carried with him in case they were to find any pieces of evidence that were hopefully going to be useful in their investigation.

“This is the blouse he returned, yeah?” He asked her, showing the stained article now in the bag. She nodded her head, “That is the one. Do you want me to clean it off before you go?”

Smiling at her well-meaning attitude he shook his head before disposing of the gloves he wore in the trash bin that was nearby. “It’s all good, sweetheart. Don’t worry your pretty little self about it, alright? I’m gonna have to take this as evidence, can you let Phoebe know that?”

She nodded her head with a smile, “I’m sure she’ll understand. She’s nice like that, she won’t take it off my paycheck.” Gleaming at his earlier compliment she then smiled and opened the door for them to exit the tiny room. “Will I see you again?” Her voice sounded small and a bit disappointed, but he tried not to show he was feeling the same as he reached for his coat pocket and handed her his calling card. “Under these circumstances? I hope not.”

Tilting her head as she accepted the card and wondered what he meant, she had a small pout that looked very much like she wanted to be kissed. Instead, he clarified for her, “What I meant is you should call me the next time you see the buzzcut man, okay?”

“Oh! I can do that!” She cheere happily before continuing on, “Gonna call you and let you know that he’s trouble and he’s here!”

“Maybe don’t say that directly,” He warned her as he rubbed her forearms reassuringly, “Instead use a code. When you call me, tell me how you’d love for the food delivery to come right now. That way, he won't think that the FBI will be looking for him.”

Gasping at how well-thought his plan was, she giggled and jokingly gave him a pat on his shoulder as if to congratulate him, “That was so good, Aaron! You’re smart and handsome!” He wanted to prolong their conversation for as long as they could but of course the odds were against them when Rossi walked over to where they were standing over as he informed his former mentee, “Sorry to interrupt, but we got a hit and they need us back at the precinct.”

Nodding his head back to his mentor, Hotch then shot one last smile to her before offering his hand for a shake. “Thanks so much for your help, sweetheart. Keep in touch, okay?” Shaking his hand with a bright smile she nodded, “I like it when you call me sweetheart, but that’s not really my name, you know? It’s Y/N.”

“See you around then, Y/N.”

With that, the two sadly let go of the other’s hand and went back to normal, back to the reality that they had to work. As he exited the store and went ahead to maneuver the car back to the precinct, he could feel Rossi’s teasing grin at him. “What?”

“Sweetheart, huh?” Came Rossi’s reply which led Aaron to be defensive about it, “She was a bit unsettled at first. I was just trying to calm her down.” The Italian man just raised his eyebrows, getting even more suspicious if anything, “Sure, that’s all that was. Wasn’t like you found her attractive at all.”

“She is attractive, but I could also see that she was way too delicate for the horrors that we usually face,” Hoping that was enough to persuade the senior profiler that there wasn't any budding affection on his part. “All I’m saying is she is a gorgeous woman, but even you have to admit that she doesn’t seem all too smart though. She’s what would be commonly referred to as a bimbo.”

Thankful that they had arrived back in the police station so he would not have to hear what sounded like judgemental comments, Aaron slammed the driver’s door a little too hard before defending her, “How is that bad? Save your unhelpful judgements, Dave.”

Back at the station, once he had given the blouse to the precinct’s forensic team to be analyzed, the rest of the team had been brainstorming on their possible suspect pool. It didn’t take less than an hour for forensics to get back to them with a hit.

“Garcia, will you please give us the rundown on John Wesley please?” Spencer requested as soon as he phoned their technical analyst. “Born and raised in Fairfax, Virginia. Well, really raised by a single mom who did not register who the father to her baby was. He has a record for trespassing and peeping when he was only twelve, yikes. Said that since his mom had to work two, almost three jobs to support herself and him he had to be left alone in their apartment complex where sometimes peeped into the unit next door, turns out the not so good example neighbor would bring home prostitutes and saw how rough he was with them.”

“That would explain why there were bruises on the women, he must have thought that beating them up is some sick way of showing affection,” JJ deduced as Penelope unsealed court records and found out more about John. “Seems like John saw like a counselor or a therapist and he admitted that he liked the idea of women being dolled up after a rough session.”

“Seeing the prostitutes go about the rest of their day after a paid session must have left that impression on him. And he didn’t really fully comprehend how that set up works,” Reid thought out loud, to which everyone agreed.

“What’s his education, personal and work life like Garcia?” Rossi wondered.

“Well education, not so much finished high school but without any recognition you know? Took a couple of classes at the local community college but didn’t really graduate from it. Personal, still legally single by the looks of it. Work life? Oh, would you look at that.”

“Why? What is it, Garcia?” Derek was the one who snapped Garcia out of her shock. “Well it turns out he works at one of those mannequin factories. And it seems like he’s been getting reprimanded by his superior because he liked putting marks on them that looked similar to bruises. And for a while it seems like he also took some home or if not, he brought some clothes to work to dress them up.”

“That’s more than enough, did he go to work today Garcia?” Blake wondered. “He should be there, his boss had him scheduled for today until 6pm,” They all looked at the time and saw that it was 30 minutes before his shift ended. “He clocked in but has yet to clock out by the looks of it.”

“Garcia, we’re gonna need his work and home address, please.” Rossi said to which the peppy analyst declared “Done and done, stay safe crime fighters.”

“Blake, you and Reid head over to his workplace to see if he’s still there; if not, gather as much information as you can about him and how he treats the mannequins, maybe that will give us a clear COD. Morgan, you and JJ head over to the house, see if he’s holding another woman there. As soon as you see him, apprehend him. Dave and I will stay here in case there’s any further development, call for backup if needed.”

With that, the team dispersed into their assignments; Rossi slid over a cup of coffee Hotch’s way who was now engrossed as he was reading over Wesley’s file. “You know I didn’t mean anything bad with what I said earlier, right?”

That caught his attention as he looked up from the tablet and squinted a little, “Pardon me?” Rossi only chuckled as he sat down across from the unit chief before clarifying, “I knew what you meant when you mentioned that your sweetheart,” Hotch rolled his eyes at that but didn’t really feel any distaste towards him or his words, “Was a little softer than the ones we usually interact with. But I do see why you would be attracted to her — she’s kind, thoughtful, and can literally and figuratively bring color to your life.” Aaron knew that he was pertaining to how colorful her entire outfit and personality was and had to bite down a chuckle as he instead redirected his focus to the tablet, “You got all that from a few seconds of interaction?”

“What can I say? I’m a good profiler,” Now the two laughed at his little joke but did know that it was indeed the truth. “She’d be good for you, Aaron. She lives nearby so there’s no reason for you to not pursue her.”

“How about the fact that she’s younger than I am?” He remarked a bit morosefully to which he was surprised that Rossi only scoffed at, “So? It’s not like she’s underage or anything. She’d be providing you with her consent so there’s really no reason for you to feel guilt or anything like that.”

Opening his mouth to offer another rebuttal he paused mid-thought when he was suddenly hit with a realization, “Wait, why does it seem like you’re certain of her age?”

This time Rossi showed him Y/N’s file that Garcia had sent over to his phone, “Had Penelope do a background check on the employees of the boutique earlier. And let’s just say she has a squeaky clean record and is definitely of age.”

Aaron could not believe how hard Dave was so persistent with the whole thing; but when it all boils down, he’d rather have a supportive friend than one who discourages him to go out there and date. “Well I’ll leave it up to fate if I should make a move; besides I don’t even have her phone number.”

Just as he was about to be yelled at by his mentor, Hotch’s phone rang and on cue, he answered it despite the number unlisted to his contacts he answered it and greeted them by saying, “Hotchner.”

✪

“And I got that good girl faith in that tight little skirt,” Just as she was about to sing the next line, the bell above the door rang, signaling that someone just walked in, “Welcome to Beauty Boutique! Can I help you with anything?” The cheerfulness in her voice died down upon seeing who the man was. She gulped down her nervousness, hoping that the buzzcut man would notice her feelings of unease.

“Just browsing through; thanks though, sweetheart.” An invisible shiver went down her spine; I liked it more when Aaron called me that. Heh, Ay-ay-ron, she thought to herself. But that also reminded her that she was to call him if he ever showed up. Dialing his number on her phone, she bit the skin of her fingertips anxiously as she waited for him to answer.

“Hotchner,” Came his gruff greeting. She giggled for a little before plastering a serious face on before finding the words, “Hi, I’d like the food to be delivered, please.”

On the other end of the phone, Aaron could feel the dread in him knowing that Y/N was within arm’s reach of a dangerous killer. “Alright, we’re coming Y/N. Stay calm and don’t let him see panic in your face okay, sweetheart?” He looked at Dave and nodded towards the precinct’s doors; the man nodded and headed out to let the cops and the rest of the team know that they knew about Wesley’s whereabouts.

She nodded her head against the phone as she secretly watched the unsub’s movements — who was currently busying himself in the dress section of their store — before asking, “How long until the food gets here? I don’t want it to be too cold, you know?”

Chuckling against the phone as he watched how Dave drove with urgency he assured here, “We’ll be there in less than ten minutes. Y/N, do you remember if the back door is unlocked?”

“The back door? It’s unlocked but a bit heavy for me to open, it’ll be better if you come up to the store’s front for the food,” She answered as she recalled how much she hated throwing out the garbage during closing time as it was like lifting a whole tree when she opened the back door.

“Okay good, another thing — if you can try to keep the unsub, or the buzzcut guy, within the store that’d be great. If not, make sure to keep note of which direction he goes into, alright?”

“I’m not sure I can try your spicy specialty. But I’ll give it a try. How long til it gets here again?” She asked nervously, she had eye contact with the unsub and she didn’t like the smile he shot her.

“Almost there, sweetheart. I promise,” Aaron said as he hung up the phone call when he noticed that they were a block away and had to park their vehicle. As they stepped outside he gave instructions to uniform officers to take the back entrance and that it could be a little heavy when they try to open it but it is unlocked for their convenience. “I take it back, Aaron,” Dave spoke as he and Aaron cautiously made their way to the front entrance, “Your girl’s a lot smarter than I gave her credit for.”

“Not my girl,” He said, but Hotch did admit that it sounded nice to refer to her as that.

✪ “Got some food delivered here?” Came the unsub’s question as he brought some items to the till. She nodded as she began ringing up the items. “I did, it’s lunchtime,” She tried to convince him and by the looks of it, he bought it, “Did you enjoy your shopping experience today?”

“Sure did,” he pointed to the clothes, “Found great deals on these great clothes,” Shooting her a wink that didn’t do anything to make her feel attracted to him he tried flirting by saying, “Even had a pretty view when I did so.”

An awkward laugh was all that she could give him before placing all of the items in a bag before telling him, “Your total for today is $29.54, how would you like to pay for that today?”

Reaching for his back pocket, he grabbed for his wallet before answering, “On cash, beautiful.” She just smiled as he handed her a fifty dollar bill. Opening her till she had her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he counted his change but was stopped when he held her hands. Her audible gasp just caused him to smirk even more as he said, “Say, why don’t you keep the change, and in return you can just let me take you out on a date hm? That sounds like a fair trade to me.”

“I can’t do that, my boyfriend wouldn’t like it if I went with someone who wasn’t him,” Came her reply. The man rolled his eyes as he held a tighter grip on her hand causing her to yelp out in pain, “Cut the bullshit. I’ve been here a lot of time to know for a fact that a dumb bimbo like you doesn’t have a boyfriend. So when I say we’re going out, we’re going out.”

“James Wesley, this is the FBI; let go of the woman and put your hands up in the air.”

Tears pooled in her eyes upon seeing that Aaron was in the store; this time he ditched his suit jacket and instead had a bulletproof vest. Instead of following his orders he held onto her wrist more and jumped over the counter, pressing his front to her back as he grabbed a blade from his back pocket and pressed it against her throat, “One step close and I’ll slit her throat.”

Unable to hold back her whimpers, Y/N was now crying as she felt the cold touch of the blade against her skin. “Aaron, please,” Her broken cry broke Hotch’s heart, but he knew he had to be smart; she was at the hands of a sadistic man who took pleasure in beating the crap out of women.

From behind her, James scoffed, “Don’t tell me he is the boyfriend you were lying about. Didn’t think you could land a man like him.”

“You don’t have to hurt her, James. She didn’t hurt you, she didn’t give you the false promise of love, right?” Dave negotiated, on the drive over they were given new intel about how he was hurt by his fiancee when she left him for someone who was abusive to her. Thinking that he had to inflict pain on women in order for them to love and stay loyal to him — that coupled with his distorted view of the prostitutes view rough sex — set him on the course of killing and beating up women then dressing them up, much like how the prostitutes went about their night.

“Hurting women doesn’t make them stay, James. Treating and treasuring them right is how you get them to stay,” Hotch added, which didn’t sit well with the unsub as he shook his head, his hold on Y/N getting loose as he didn’t press on the knife to her anymore. “Yeah? Is that how you get this skank?”

“Don’t you dare call her that,” Came Hotch’s cold reply but he was quick to think of a way to get Y/N out of the situation safely. He made eye contact with the uniformed officer that snuck around the back — which for some reason John didn’t notice, but they weren’t complaining about that — he looked at John's shoulder then to the officer's gun. “Shoot in the shoulder?” Mouthed Officer Harrison, to which Hotch mouthed back “Wait.”

“If anything I’m surprised you’re able to hold onto a woman,” Hotch goaded him, but not too much John would take it out on Y/N. “By the looks of it you can’t even hold onto her right.”

As John looked to see his hands he shouted, “Now!” As planned, Officer Harrison shot John’s shoulder while Rossi shot his elbow, causing him to release his grip on Y/N — who immediately ran into Aaron. Face wet with tears buried in his chest as Aaron pressed loving rubs on her back.

“I was so scared, Aaron. Tried not to panic like you said but he had a knife,” She recalled with so much fear in her voice. He soothed her by rubbing her back keeping her eyes focused on him and not on John who was now being assisted by Rossi and Harrison out of the store and into the cop car. “I know, sweetheart. And you did so well, I saw you talking to him and trying to not let him get away. Wasn’t your fault okay?”

Wiping her tears with his thumbs he tried to console her, “He’s a bad guy, no matter how good you treated him he would have been mean to you. But you best believe I would not let that happen.” She felt something warm — whether it were his hands that settled on her cheeks once he was done wiping away her tears or the way he didn’t stop until the unsub was away from her — but she realized she loved how safe and secure he made her feel was what made her feel warm.

“Thank you for saving me, Aaron. You’re the best, you know?” Now it was his turn to be flustered as he chuckled and shook his head, “Was just doing my job, sweetheart. Couldn’t let you have any more dirt in your clothes and hands.”

That elicited a giggle from her, and he was happy to see that she wasn’t now in tears and distressed by earlier events. “If you need someone to talk to, after how bad today was, you can always give me a call, okay?”

“And if I just wanted to talk to you? Or maybe go out with you for a date?” It was adorable to see her ask him, looking smaller than him and so nervous. He nodded and rubbed her cheeks lovingly, “I’d love that, sweetheart. I’d kiss your cute nose but unfortunately I’m still on the job.”

Nodding in understanding, she then smiled, “Don’t be a stranger and shoot me a text okay? Oh! That reminds me,” She stepped out within his reach and grabbed the pastel pink suit that she pointed to earlier and gave it to him, “Please take this! One of the things I’d love to see is you in this. I just know you can pull it off!”

Looking down at the clothing article, he shook his head as he laughed a little at how insistent she was being, “Sweetheart, I like how you have faith in me but I don’t think this will suit me really well.”

“Please? For me, Aaron?” She looked up at him with a pout and knew right then and there Hotch had found his kryptonite. So, with a sigh, he nodded and smiled, “Alright, but you’re gonna have to give me a hand on how to dress up with this suit okay?” Smiling so wide she gave him a hug and hummed, “Yes, yes! Thank you, Aaron!”

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re needed back,” Rossi came and with that the two ended their hug. Y/N smiled at him as she held up her hand and grabbed a scarf and gave it to Rossi. “A little something as a thank you for saving me, Mr.”

“Rossi,” He provided, “Y/N, right?” Rossi offered his hand for a shake to which she accepted and confirmed that it was indeed her name. “Good eye, this will go well with this jacket.”

“Italian suit, right? That scarf’s material shouldn’t rub on it the wrong way.” At her input Rossi smiled at her then at Aaron, “Good catch,” Before bidding adieu to her, “See you around, Y/N.”

She looked at Aaron as if to ask what he meant with his remark but was instead interrupted when Aaron smiled at her and lifted her hand up and kissed her knuckles, “I’ll call you later, sweetheart. Take care for now.”

Feeling bold, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed the tip of his nose, “Thank you, Aaron, for keeping me safe. I’ll be thinking of you.” And he knew that as he walked out of the store and rode back with Rossi to the station, his thoughts would be clouded by her as well. And for the first time in a while, he was glad to have this kind of distraction. She might have been a bit of a mess, but from here on out she was his mess.

part two: i’m a mess but

#aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction

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elliespassagerprincess · 6 months

Text

Mary - (ellie williams x reader)

for @fleshunger ty for being patient, ily <3

This story is based off the song Mary by Alex G, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading! There is another version to this fic! You can read it here:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open again! send me your silly thoughts

warnings: angst.

Summary: in which you left her to rot

authors note: lmao yall probably hate me for posting so much, forgive me pookies, I swear after tomorrow i'll post less....

Mary is the girl that I wanna kiss

She's got big red eyes and big red lips

She's got big sharp teeth and big fat hips

Mary is the girl that I wanna fuck

She's got leather heart and leather gloves

She's the only girl that I wanna love

"I wanna kiss her so bad" Ellie vented to Dina.

Dina rolled her eyes at Ellie.

She was in love. Really in love.

In all the years Dina has known Ellie she has never seen her this down bad.

"What's so special about this girl anyway?" She asked as she took a bite from Ellie's sandwich.

"What type of a question is that?" Ellie asked. She felt disrespected on your behalf.

"She's got beautiful eyes- and she looks good with red lipstick. Even without lipstick, her lips are so kissable"

A small smile appeared on Dina's face as she listened to her friend describe the girl she was so deeply in love with.

"She's got big fat hips too and I just want to eat her-"

"woah Ellie calm down, that's too much information"

Ellie's face went red with embarrassment.

"How'd you meet her" Dina asked.

"at a fruit Market" Ellie replied with a shrug.

Bananas or oranges?

Bananas?

Oranges?

Ellie was currently thinking about what she should get as she stood in front of the fruit stand. Since when was it so fucking difficult to choose fruit?

"If you think harder, much you might explode" she heard someone chuckle next to her.

Ellie turned to where your voice was coming from, her heart rate suddenly increased.

Angles are fucking real.

"um- yeah" Ellie responded awkwardly.

She cleared her throat and she fixed her posture.

"Bananas or orange?" She asked you.

What the fuck Ellie? Why would you fucking ask that?

You turned your head to look at the fruit, before you reached out to grab a banana.

"It looks fresher" you shrugged as you gave the banana to her.

Your fingertips brushed against hers, and a shock of electricity ran through Ellie.

Her palms felt sweaty, she couldn't breathe.

Focus Ellie. Focus.

"Thank you" You gave her a small smile as you started walking away.

'C'mon Ellie make your move' she thought to herself.

"hey wait!" Ellie yelled as you started walking away.

You turned around to look at her.

"Can I have your number?"

"That's fucking cliché" Dina laughed.

"shut up" Ellie muttered annoyed.

The two girl fell into a comfortable silence as Ellie's thoughts wondered to you.

Oh you would've loved this salad. You would've loved this ice tea. Maybe she should've asked you to come out instead of Dina

*ding*

Ellie reached down to grab her phone. It was you.

Her girl.

Not officially her girlfriend yet, but soon.

She clicked onto the notification with your name.

"Come over please"

fuck yes

Ellie jumped up, and she looked at Dina with a grin.

"My girl is looking for me"

Dina laughed at her friends excitement.

"go get her tiger"

Ellie gave Dina a hug as she ran towards your apartment.

Today she felt confident. Today she was the day she was going to ask you to be her girlfriend. You messaging her was a sign from the gods above.

Ellie's legs were hurting, and she was out of breathe but she was on her way to finally tell the girl of her dreams that she was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

Listen to me, baby, I don't mind

I wanna be with you and waste my time

Give it to me, baby, I feel good

I wanna feel whatever you think I should

Sing it for me, baby, play my song

I wanna hear your daddy sing along

Mary is the girl that leaves you to rot

She says, "I am real and you are not"

Ellie knocked at your front door.

She kept knocking and she's been standing outside of your apartment for the last 10 minutes.

Where were you? Maybe you were laying dead on the floor?

Ellie knocked and knocked but yet you never came.

Was this a prank?

She held the doorknob as she opened the door.

It was open this whole time.

Ellie slowly walked into your apartment, and she looked around the place you called home.

It felt oddly empty.

The little trinkets you kept around was all suddenly gone.

The apartment filled with so much life at one point, suddenly dull and lifeless.

Ellie's eyes went around the room and her eyes landed on a white envelope.

On the front was your pretty handwriting and Ellie's name decorated the front.

With shaky hands Ellie picked it up, and she opened it.

Dear Ellie

Or should I say banana girl?

She chucked remembering your first interaction.

I'm sorry for what I'm about to tell you, please don't hate me. I truly never wanted to hurt you Ellie. But I know you have feelings for me. I don't feel the same way. I never wanted to reject you, because I valued our friendship too much. So for the sake of your feelings, I left. I changed my number, so you wont be able to message me. I'm sorry Els.

I love you.

Ellie didn't realize that she started shaking till she finished reading the letter.

She tore the letter apart and her knees buckled.

She fell to the ground sobbing.

You made feel so alive, but you just killed her again.

All the love Ellie had for you was rotting away into hated.

She loved you so much but you left her to rot.

541 notes · View notes

moni-logues · 7 months

Text

Across a Crowded Room

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Strangers-to-lovers, idolverse, smut

Word count: 10.7k

Summary: Dissatisfied and uncomfortable at a party where you don’t belong, in a country where you feel like you don’t belong, you see a man looking at you from across the room. Maybe he’s what you’ve been missing.

Content: alcohol consumption, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, I guess slight exhibitionism since it all happens up against a window lmao

A/N: Ok, so I 1000000% thought I had re-posted this here already?? but Lia has informed me that I have not and since I got a nice message about it on the old blog, I figured now's as good a time as any to repost!! The start of this fic is literally the first writing I had done for over a decade. I started writing even before I had a writing blog. Then the rest of it was written... last November? ish? idk. anyway, I read this myself the other day and it's alright! ETA: LOL, you can tell it's old because it's written in present tense LMAO

* * *

You tug self-consciously at the hem of your dress; it’s a little too short for your liking, but Hanjae likes you in K-style clothes and, once you’re there, it’ll be fine. It’s always a little nerve-wracking the thought of going to a party where you hardly know anyone, but it always turns out fine. Fun, even. Positive thinking. You sigh and inhale deeply before leaving your apartment and heading down to the car he’s sent for you.

When you first met, you were both taken with each other. He was intrigued by your foreignness and enchanted by your clumsy negotiations in a foreign culture; you were reassured by his confidence and excited by the access he had to hitherto hidden worlds of luxury and indulgence. He wasn’t rolling with Elon Musk or anything (and you’d have had nothing to do with him if he were), but he lived with an ease and security that you yearned for. Which, you suppose, is why you’re still letting him parade you around at parties like this.

It was fun at first. You liked the attention – who wouldn’t? Instead of feeling freakish and out of place, you felt interesting and cherished for your differences. You felt like they were laughing with you when you told funny, embarrassing stories of when you’d got it wrong, or how you do things back home. It felt like people were fascinated by you and you were warmed by their curiosity. You didn’t mind when they reached out to touch your tattoos or asked personal questions, because they didn’t mean any harm. Hanjae gave you a social life that you hadn’t quite managed to create for yourself in this new place and got you out of your apartment, out of your comfort zone, and you clung to that.

Recently, though, you’ve been feeling different. When you show up to parties with him and see his friends you’ve met before, they’re surprised you’re still around. They joke to your face that they would’ve expected Hanjae to have moved on by now. They ask what his parents think (but you have never been introduced to them). They’re not so charmed by you anymore. These friends barely spare you a second thought once they’ve registered their surprise and the attentions of new friends aren’t as welcome as they once were. You started feeling uncomfortable with the way Hanjae paraded you around a couple of weeks ago and now, you’re frankly sick to your stomach. When people reach out to touch you, you flinch away; you don’t tell funny, embarrassing stories because you feel like you’re being laughed at; you stay quiet, for the most part, because your Korean is still not very good and, when they correct you or laugh at your mistakes, you don’t feel like they’re doing it kindly. Standing, mute, next to Hanjae while he laughs and drinks makes you feel like an object, a trophy, an oddity. If Hanjae were a Victorian-era Englishman travelling to the ends of the Earth to ransack a foreign place and bring home stolen goods, you were the buried necklace of an Aztec noblewoman he would give to the eligible girl in the manor house whose hand he is trying to win. He is showing you off because other people are impressed, but you no longer get the feeling that he is.

You hand over your phone and lip balm to Hanjae when you meet him outside the venue; this became a habit early on, so you wouldn’t have to hold a bag and he was happy to keep them in his pockets. Now, it feels a little bit like handing over your freedom.

“Cheer up!” he says as you lean back in your seat. “This’ll be fun, won’t it?” He smiles at you and tucks your hair behind your ear. He’s not a bad guy. He really isn’t. You’re not entirely sure if he even realises what he’s doing with you, if he knows that he doesn’t really like you but the idea of you, if he knows that there’s no future with you, if he’s realised that this relationship is rapidly approaching its expiry date. He’s been extremely good to you and you owe it to him to try. However much you want it to end, you don’t want it to end badly and you don’t want to hurt him; there’s no need for that.

You walk into the party amongst a sea of black suits. You scan the crowd, looking for other women you can compare your outfit to. A terrible thing to do, you know, but your insecurity needs reassurance that you’re dressed appropriately for this event. Hanjae is already leading you over to his friends, two of whom have brought their girlfriends, who are dressed in outfits similar to yours, so that’s something at least. You greet them brightly and Hanjae hands you a drink before launching into a conversation you can’t quite follow. That’s the other thing about these parties; they’re so loud, even if everyone were speaking English, you’re not sure you’d be able to hear them properly, so you hardly stand a chance in Korean. You’ve improved dramatically and can get by in your day-to-day life, but you don’t feel like you’re good enough yet to have a proper conversation, to really talk to anyone. It’s quite a lonely feeling and another reason you’ve spent so much time with Hanjae: he speaks fluent English; although he uses it less and less often these days and he gets more impatient when you need things repeating. You suppose it must be difficult for him, too, having to use a second language so much.

You gaze around the room, looking at nothing in particular. You sip your drink and wonder what everyone else is thinking about. You barely notice the looks you get anymore – most of them are meaningless anyway and people pass their eyes over you before turning back to their friends – but out of the corner of your eye, you see someone looking at you. You don’t recognise him, but you’ve never been very good with faces and the lighting is weird here. You raise your glass and nod slightly; even if you don’t know him, it’s nice to be polite. He looks a little flustered that you’ve noticed and quickly looks away, and then back again and raises his glass a little before turning and walking away. You smile, what a cutie.

Your glass is empty and your feet hurt from standing still for so long, so you tell Hanjae you’re going to get another drink. He asks you to get him a whiskey, so you traipse to the bar and order. You hand the drink to Hanjae without a word and wander off; there must be somewhere to sit in this place.

The main room is cavernous and you’re worried there will be no open doors to anywhere else. There is a small group of tables in one corner, but they are all already occupied. You look around as you walk, and suddenly bump into someone.

“Oh, so-“, you start to say, but you realise it isn’t someone; it is a mirror. The whole back wall is mirrored. For a moment, you are completely disoriented and slightly embarrassed, but as you edge along the mirror, you realise that the wall doesn’t reach the other side and the room continues beyond it. As you cross behind the mirror, the din of music and voices is subdued significantly. There’s another partial wall from the other side as though the room is zig-zagging. You’re wary of going too far, but the increasing quiet is soothing. You turn another corner and there’s a bench opposite a large staircase. You immediately sit down along its length and lift your feet. You wonder what the time is and how much more of it you’ll have to kill before you can go home. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, reminding yourself that Hanjae is a good man and you are very fortunate and suffering from very glamorous problems. A few months ago, you’d have given an arm and a leg to be at a party like this. Be careful what you wish for, you think to yourself.

As you fidget on the bench, you realise you are not alone. There is a man coming down the stairs. You take your feet off the bench and try to look like you’re doing something (what? What could you be doing? There is absolutely nothing to occupy you here!); you settle for just looking awkward. You nod your head and raise a hand as he reaches the bottom.

“Are you ok?” he asks. His hesitance reminds you of someone and you realise with a flash that he is the man who was looking at you earlier.

You clear your throat.

“네. 괜찮아요. 감사합니다,” you answer falteringly, embarrassed at having been caught hiding out. You rise to leave.

“오, 정말요? ……………?”

You don’t understand the second half of what he said and you curse yourself for having answered in Korean; if you’d just spoken English and pretended you didn’t know any Korean at all, this would’ve been much simpler!

“Sorry, I didn’t understand,” you tell him. “갈게요.”

“No, wait,” he cries, with more force than he intended. “You don’t have to leave.” He gestures to the bench. “I was also looking for somewhere quiet.”

He speaks shyly and you assume he doesn’t have much practice at speaking English and don’t have the energy for locking you both into a conversation where neither of you can quite understand the other. On the other hand, it would feel rude to just walk away now. You stand, not leaving but not quite staying, both of you trapped in an awkward moment that seems to last forever.

“You can leave if you want,” he says, finally. “I am going to stay.” He sits on the bottom step and takes a sip from his drink. “It’s ok, we don’t have to talk- but I can speak English a little bit if you want.”

You slowly return to the bench and sit down. You feel like you should say something, but your mind is blank. It’s like you’ve never had a conversation before in your life; what do people say? Does he even want you to say something? Why was he staring at you earlier? In the same way that everyone else always does or was there a specific reason? You feel your hands start to sweat and you inwardly roll your eyes at yourself and tell yourself to get a grip, literally nothing is happening.

He is looking out of the window and you are staring into the corner on the opposite side; you each take glances at one another, praying the other doesn’t notice. You can still hear the music from the party, quiet in the background, and you wonder if Hanjae has noticed your absence yet; you expect not. You glance at the man opposite you and catch his eye. You both chuckle awkwardly.

“I’m ________,” you say.

“Jungkook,” he answers.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook.”

“I saw you earlier; I didn’t think we’d met before.”

“No, I’m not really invited to these things,” you explain. “I just tag along with my b-,“ you stop, the word ‘boyfriend’ weighing heavily on your tongue.

“Who’s your boyfriend?”

Dammit.

“Uh, Kim Hanjae?”

“Ah… Don’t know him.”

“He’s…” How on earth did you get to this subject so quickly? Do you really want to talk about Hanjae to this random man? More to the point, does this random man want to hear about your boyfriend and how you actually don’t want him to be your boyfriend anymore? Doubtful. “He’s nice,” you finish, lamely.

“Just don’t like parties?”

Part of you wishes you had just left when you had the chance. Then you realise how ridiculously you’re behaving; hating the party because no one will talk to you and, now, as soon as someone starts, you want to leave. ‘Get a grip, girl,’ you say to yourself.

“I like parties,” you answer, “but it’s-… I’m-… This-…” You pause as you try to work out how to give an honest answer that isn’t simultaneously dumping all your crap onto him. “These are all his friends; I don’t really know anyone here.”

He nods.

“I have a different problem: everyone knows me and wants to talk to me all the time.” He laughs. “I don’t like big parties. They’re… so much… too much.”

You nod. The two of you lapse into silence again, but it’s more comfortable this time. You’ve broken the ice a little. He seems nice and you feel a pang of sympathy for him: to be a big deal at parties like this sounds exhausting, especially if you don’t even like parties to start with. No wonder he’s hiding out with you.

“It’s hard for me to talk to people at these things,” you tell him. “My Korean isn’t very good and Hanjae doesn’t like speaking English when we’re with his friends because some of them don’t speak it.”

“I think your Korean sounds good.”

You laugh; that was a sweet thing to say given that he’s heard you say all of three words.

“It’s ok, but we couldn’t have this conversation in Korean. Sorry.” You smile weakly and feel pathetic; you knew it would be a process, moving to a new country and learning the language as you go, but you weren’t prepared for how embarrassed and ashamed you would feel all the time about your failings.

“Don’t be sorry!” He grins at you. “I can try my English! But, actually, it is not very good either. Sorry.”

You laugh again. Koreans and their modesty; his English sounds just fine from where you’re sitting.

“Did you move here recently?” he asks.

“About four months ago,” you answer. “I was… looking for something new, I guess. I don’t know… I needed new horizons, new experiences.”

“And how do you think about it now you’re here?”

You wonder if he knows what a loaded question that is. You exhale with a huff. Where to begin?

“It’s been harder than I thought it would be,” you tell him. “I feel very… different. Being looked at so much is not something I was used to… I think Hanjae likes it, but it’s awkward for me. I feel like…”

“An object.”

Your eyes meet and your chest is flooded with the warmth of familiarity. He’ll understand, won’t he?

“When we met,” you start, looking away self-consciously, “he was charmed by my foreignness, y’know? And he liked how different I looked and found it cute when I made mistakes in Korean and didn’t know things. It gave him clout, y’know? Dating a foreigner? I was spoilt by it, the attention; I thought it was for me and when he bought me dresses and took me to parties to show me off, I thought it was because I was special, not just because I was foreign. I loved it at the start.

“I think the appeal is wearing off, though,” you continue, stealing a quick glance to gauge his reaction. He’s looking at you patiently, intently, concentrating, probably, on understanding what you’re saying. “He gets annoyed sometimes now when I don’t know things and-“

You tell him everything. Once you start, you find you can’t stop. You don’t know whether to be angry or sad about it, so you vacillate between the two. Jungkook listens, never interrupts; he drinks and nods and keeps looking at you with those huge brown eyes.

“I know it’s over,” you say, resolute. “I just-” you realise it as you say it, “I’m scared that I won’t have anything if I don’t have him.”

He looks at you thoughtfully for a moment.

“But you met him in Korea, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you still have the person who moved all the way here to start a new life; that seems like a lot to me.”

For a split second, you don’t know whether to burst into tears or fling your arms around him and give him a kiss. ‘Is he looking at me,’ you wonder ‘or staring into my soul?’. You feel seen, seen for the first time in months. You decide then and there that you would walk on hot coals for this man; he’s got you whether he wants you or not. His kindness streams out from him like rays of the sun from behind clouds. Such a bright, young thing, hiding in the dark.

“What about you?” You ask. “You’re hiding back here, too.”

“Ah.” He finishes his drink and places the glass next to him on the step. “I prefer quiet places. I like to keep things small and…-”

“Intimate?”

You blush furiously as he looks at you. That isn’t what you meant and you’re not sure how he’s taken it.

“Yeah, intimate. Big crowds are not my thing.”

“Not when they forget that you’re a person, first.”

He nods.

You stand and move to look out of the window, closer to him. He rises, too, and stands next to you. Your arm is a hair’s breadth from him; you daren’t move.

“Do you like the view?” he asks.

“Actually, I don’t really like a cityscape. I prefer country views.”

“What are the views like where you’re from?”

No one has asked you about home like that. They ask for funny differences between here and there or ask you to debunk or confirm stereotypes, but no one has really cared what you actually think. You smile, picturing in your mind’s eye cloudy, wind-swept beaches, rolling hills, pier arcades, church spires and so much green. You tell him everything. You turn your back to Seoul and, leaning against the glass, describe the house you grew up in and where your grandparents used to live; you describe the places you took holidays when you were a kid and the specific smell of the sea that isn’t the same anywhere else in the world. He’s been to your home country before, but he hasn’t been to your hometown; he asks questions and shows interest and you realise how starving you’ve been. Starved of this sort of attention – focused, interested, penetrating. You’ve had a taste and you want more and more.

You ask him about Seoul; did he grow up here? No, he tells you about Busan in the South. He speaks slowly and thoughtfully about his childhood and his dreams and moving here at such a young age, growing up so far from everything he’s ever known. He’s achieved more than he ever thought was even possible, more than he had ever dreamed, he explains; sometimes he still can’t believe it’s real.

While he talks, you study his face. He’s happy now, but you feel for the scared, little boy thrust into the industry machine before he even knew who he was. Now’s not the time, you know that, but you want to gently crack him open like a soft-boiled egg. Such depth in his eyes, so much soul. You resist the urge many times to put your hand on his arm, hold his hand for a second, reach out and physically touch him somehow. You feel connected to him in such a way that you need it to be physical for a moment, to close the circle, to just… touch.

You’re still standing by the window, deep in conversation, when a man appears from behind the wall and beckons to Jungkook. They talk quickly and Jungkook returns.

“I’m going to get a drink.”

Your heart falls.

“Do you want one?”

A wash of relief. You shrug, sure.

“Ok, wait here. I won’t be long.”

He leaves and you turn back to the window, pressing your forehead against the cool glass. You wonder what time it is, where is Hanjae, what’s he doing, is he even still here, has he noticed you’re missing, is Jungkook actually coming back? You take some deep breaths.

With no watch, no phone, and no clock in this dark, little hideaway, you have no way to tell how long Jungkook has been. One minute? Could be ten. You wonder if he’ll make it back to you; after all, he was hiding back here to avoid being grasped in the clutches of all the many, many people out there. Maybe he’s been waylaid. He’s got stuck with a chatterbox who won’t be quiet; he’s got trapped into a business conversation that he can’t leave. Maye he’s seen some friends and is having fun out there.

You sigh, knowing that if he doesn’t come back soon, you’ll have to go out there, too. Hanjae will be missing you, you tell yourself; it’s rude to abandon him completely when he’s the reason you’re even here in the first place. You take a deep, resolute breath and stand, smoothing out your dress. You bump into Jungkook as you round the corner.

“Oh,” he says as he sees you. “Are you going?”

He hands you a drink and you take it, the cold glass sending goosebumps up your arm.

“Uh, well, no, well yes, I was but I didn’t know if you were coming back.” You hope you didn’t sound accusatory.

“I’m sorry, it is hard to avoid people out there,” he replies, continuing around the corner and sitting on the bench. You follow him and he places a hand on the bench, indicating you should join. You feel bad; he shouldn’t have to apologise. You sit next to him on the bench and sip your drink.

“You can go back out there, if you want, you know; you don’t have to stay here with me,” you tell him. His eyes widen and he shakes his head.

“No, thank you!” he laughs. “That was enough. Maybe I will show my face again a bit later.”

“Good.” You spoke without thinking and are just about to regret it when he smiles at you.

“Yeah. Good.”

You place a hand down on the bench and he reaches out a finger to touch your bracelet. When you packed your whole life into one suitcase, a lot of brutal cuts had to be made and there are so many parts of your heart at home, abandoned by you, but not this one. It’s a tiny gold chain, with a tiny gold J attached.

“That’s not the letter of your name,” Jungkook says, still studying your bracelet.

“No… No, it’s from my best friend’s name,” you explain. “She gave this to me a long time ago; I like to wear it when I feel like I need her, to feel like I’ve got a little bit of her with me.” You rub your wrist, self-consciously, and wonder what she’s up to right now.

“Does it help?”

“No, not really.” You laugh, a little sad. “It reminds me that there are people in the world who love me, which is nice, but it also reminds me that those people are thousands of miles away.”

“All of them?” His penetrating eyes beam at you and you feel like no matter what answer you give, it’ll be the wrong one. You shrug.

“I thought maybe you told me a fake name before,” he admits, grinning sheepishly.

“Oh, I don’t think that would’ve ever occurred to me! Why, do you do that?”

He nods. He smiles but it’s sad, the mirth not reaching his eyes.

“Sometimes. But I wouldn’t get away with it so easily if I wore one of those, right?”

You unclasp the bracelet’s fastening and it slips off your wrist and, taking an end in each hand, hold it out to him. He looks uncertainly at you and you nod. He offers his wrist and you fix the chain in place.

“There’s no getting away from who you really are,” you tell him, knowing full well that it doesn’t matter where you go, ’cause there you’ll always be. He grins. “For tonight.”

“For tonight, I can be your best friend?”

You laugh and nod, thinking, ‘god, can he be my best friend forever?’.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, gently moving the bracelet around his wrist; you wonder what he’s thinking and take a sip of your drink.

A few minutes pass in a comfortable silence until Jungkook speaks again.

“I don’t have anything to give you.”

“What?”

“In return.” He indicates the bracelet. “I don’t have anything I can give you.” He takes off a ring and considers it. “I think they will all be too big.” He holds it out and you offer up your hand; he slips it onto your index finger and you lift your hand up, swirling the ring around so that it very nearly flies off the tip.

“Too big,” you confirm with a grin.

He pulls his sleeve up to reveal a watch and you notice the tattoos running underneath.

“I think this will not go with your dress, right?”

You nod absently, trying to make out what you’re looking at. You take the edge of his sleeve and lift it a little higher to get a better look and then become aware of what you’re doing and drop it, apologising instantly.

“That’s ok,” he says and he undoes the cuff, rolling the sleeve up to his elbow. He turns his arm slowly so you can get a good look (or as good a look as you can manage in the dark light). You nod approvingly.

“That’s why I was looking at you earlier,” he says, a little embarrassed. “I was trying to look at your tattoo.”

Well, that explains the intensity of his focus earlier. You turn so that he can see. You feel, for a second, his hand above your skin and your stomach clenches, praying he won’t touch you like everyone else does: ‘just please don’t let him touch me; please, please don’t let him touch me’. But the touch never comes. You sense his hand moving across your back and down your arm and you twist your head to see his finger, an inch above the skin, tracing the lines of your tattoo. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“What do you think?” You ask, turning your body back towards him.

“They’re very beautiful.” He looks you straight in the eyes as he answers and you’re struck again by the feeling of being seen and not merely looked at. Neither of you looks away this time. You hold the moment between yourselves, pausing time just for a second. You break the connection and look down, tracing a finger over your bracelet on his wrist. You know it’s only a coincidence that they share the same initial – it’s not exactly uncommon – but something about it feels right.

“Do you want it back?” he asks.

No, you don’t. Not yet. You feel like he’s wearing a part of you while he’s wearing it; he has accepted a part of you as a part of himself. You feel warm in the glow of that tiny, tremulous thread between you. You think, and the thought shocks you, that you would be alright he kept it forever. It’s immensely precious to you, so much so that you brought it with you thousands of miles away into your new life, but, somehow, Jungkook’s wearing it brings more to you, more comfort, more confidence, more certainty in the knowledge that there are people in the world that love you. Love is not diminished when given away, it is doubled. You suddenly wish that you did have something of his you could wear, if only for tonight.

The silence lapses and you talk, nursing your drinks, knowing that one of you will have to leave if either of you needs another. You forget the passing of time and everything outside of this little bubble. It’s the most fun you’ve had at a party for ages.

The man who appeared earlier returns and, once again, beckons to Jungkook. Jungkook stands and goes over to him and they, once again, talk quietly. Jungkook returns and the man remains.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Jungkook asks and you feel shattered all of a sudden. You had forgotten all about Hanjae, truth be told, and you are overwhelmed with guilt and shame that you’ve spent the whole night away from him, talking to another man. He isn’t my boyfriend, that’s what you wanted to say: he’s definitely not my boyfriend, or even if he is, I don’t want him to be and he won’t be for much longer! Why is Jungkook asking? Whatever bubble you were in has been popped from the inside. A part of you feels heartbroken and a part of you feels betrayed. It was just you and Jungkook; there’s no need to bring anyone else into this.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know,” you stutter in response. “Probably… somewhere…”. You have no idea where he will be; you assume that he is still here (you hope he is still here because he still has your phone), but who can say for sure?

“Do you want to leave with me?” Jungkook asks and you are stunned into momentary silence.

“What?”

“Do you want to leave with me?” he repeats. “We don’t have to go anywhere; I can take you home if you want, but would you like to leave?”

You feel like that is too many mixed messages to cope with right now so you nod dumbly and stand.

“Hanjae,” you say abruptly as your brain sputters back into gear. “He has my phone and my things.”

“Ok, shall I meet you outside? I’ll wait.”

“I’ll be quick.”

Breathless, you walk as quickly as you can back into the cavernous room, the noise building to a roar, the throng of people overwhelming. You stand on tiptoes and crane your neck, looking for anyone you recognise, cursing the organisers for the dim lighting and all men for their interminably boring black suits which make none of them stand out. You notice movement in your peripheral vision and turn to see a waving arm, beckoning you. It’s not Hanjae; it’s one of his friends.

“Where have you been?” they exclaim as you approach. “Han was looking everywhere for you; thought you must’ve disappeared! Anyway, he had to leave earlier – some work emergency – so he told me to give you these if I saw you.” He hands over your phone, lip balm, and a lipstick you’re sure isn’t yours. “He told you you can order a car if you like, but he won’t be back so you’ll have to get home on your own.”

You see that his friends clearly have no idea of entertaining you or keeping you company for the rest of the evening, which is just as well, given you were about to leave with someone else.

As you make your way outside, you look at the lipstick you were given. You try to think what might constitute a ‘work emergency’ on a Friday night; it’s not like the guy’s a doctor or fire fighter! You try not to let suspicion creep in, because Hanjae has never given you any reason to doubt his fidelity before, but then, you’ve also never considered it, because you’ve never really considered the two of you to be in an actual relationship. Maybe he hadn’t either. And if that’s the case, then there’s no need to be hurt or angered by it. But there is a niggle. There’s something crawling, digging up, trying to plant its seed in your heart. You decide if it’s going to happen at all, it will have to be tonight. As you approach the doorway, you stand to one side and dial Hanjae’s number.

“여보세요?” he answers just as you were about to give up.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Oh. Where are you?”

“I’m still at the party.”

“Oh. Where did you go? I tried to look for you earlier; I’m not there anymore. I’ve had to come to the office.”

“Yeah, I know; I found Seongyoung and he gave me my phone.”

“Right yeah, yeah.” He sounds distracted.

“So, are you in the office now?” you ask.

“Yeah, but I can’t see you; there’s been a huge mistake and it’s going to take a long time to fix.”

“Please; it’ll be quick. I promise.”

He sighs heavily but agrees. You hang up the phone with a small weight sitting in your stomach.

You turn back to the entrance and walk out, scanning for Jungkook. There are a few dark cars sitting in front of you but you have no idea if any one of them belongs to him. You hesitate, not sure where to turn, standing awkwardly in front of drivers and security officers. A door on one of the cars opens and a hand waves; you approach and Jungkook beams up at you from inside.

“Quick!” He reaches out to grab your hand and pull you in. He speaks quickly to the driver in Korean and turns back to you. “Are you alright?”

“Um, actually, can we go somewhere?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“I… have to do something. It won’t take long, please.”

“Of course, that’s ok. Where do you want to go?”

You give him the address of Hanjae’s office building and he relays it to the driver. You sit, slightly on edge, compulsively flicking the edge of your phone case off and on, off and on. The building isn’t far and you sit in silence while Jungkook hums along to the radio. You are barely even aware of what song is playing. The driver slows and you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Just give me like, five minutes. I’ll be quick,” you say as you open the car door.

“It’s ok; you can take as long as you like. I will wait.”

You wonder what Jungkook thinks you are doing, where he thinks you are. You wonder if he knows. Part of you assumes he does, since he seems to intuitively understand so much about you. You enter the building and approach the reception desk. The woman behind it barely looks up as she opens the barrier to let you in. You’re not sure if she recognises you from times you’ve been here before or just does not care about her job. If you had to man a reception desk in an almost entirely empty building on a Friday night, you probably wouldn’t care much either. As you call a thank you to her and walk past, the lipstick suddenly flashes into your mind. Could it be hers? You suppose it could be. It could be anyone’s. It might not have anything to do with Hanjae at all. Maybe Seongyoung handed you his girlfriend’s lipstick by mistake. Maybe not. It won’t matter soon.

You reach Hanjae’s floor and can see him in his glass-walled office: jacket and tie off, sleeves rolled up, standing and on the phone. You walk with purpose to his door and wave. He gestures for you to come in, so you stand inside the door and wait for his conversation to end.

“What’s up?” he asks, putting his phone on his desk.

“I think we need to have a conversation,” you begin, your resolve holding firm for now.

“Right now? I really don’t have time-“

“I said I’d be quick and I meant it.” If you aren’t quick, you’re not sure you’ll be able to go through with it.

“Ok then, shoot.”

You hadn’t actually planned what you were going to say. None of the words sounded right; you wanted to be clear and direct but kind at the same time; is it even possible to tell someone kindly that you don’t want them to be in your life anymore? You clench and unclench your fist and decide to rip the plaster straight off.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I don’t think we should be together. I think we should end things. This is over.” The words tumble out without your being able to stop them. Hanjae’s eyebrows raise and he looks surprised.

“Oh.”

He looks a little dumb-founded but you had expected him to say more and aren’t sure what to do now. You open and close your mouth like a goldfish, waiting for something else to happen. You haven’t actually broken up with anyone before so you’re not sure how this usually goes.

“Can I ask why?”

“We’re not a good fit.” You hope that this will suffice but you know it won’t satisfy him.

“What does that mean? Don’t we have fun together? Don’t we like each other?” Ay, there’s the rub.

“Actually, I don’t really think you do, no.” You try to explain to him all the things you’ve been feeling recently; you try not to blame him for any of it because you don’t want this to turn into an argument; you tread as carefully as you can but you’re so desperate for this to be over now it’s started that you can’t stop your mouth running on and on.

“You’ve given me so much and I’m so grateful to you for that and I really value all the time we have spent together and I do think you’re a nice person and I don’t want to hurt you but… well, this is how I feel.” You feel a little breathless as you come to a stop. Hanjae doesn’t say anything for a while and you can’t read his face. You don’t know what he’s thinking and the longer the silence lasts, the sicker and sicker you feel.

“I’m sorry that you feel that my attention has been so unwelcome,” he finally answers, speaking slowly and coldly. “I don’t really know what else I could have done to show you that I value you: I buy you things, take you places, I introduced you to all of my friends, I show you off; is that not loving? You say you don’t even think I like you, but if that’s true, why would I bother to see you? Why would I waste my time with you if I didn’t? I hadn’t, until now, considered our time together a waste, but it seems as though my efforts have been just that. You’ve been feeling this way for weeks, have you? Well, why are you here, then? Why did you come tonight at all if all of my friends ignore you and all of my attention is so unwanted? If the time we spend together makes you feel so awful, why have you waited this long to say something? You disappeared very early this evening; I tried looking for you everywhere. You said you were getting a drink and then I didn’t see you again. Perhaps it’s not that my attention is unwanted but that you’ve found someone else whose attention you prefer? Were you just putting up with me for long enough to find a higher roller, someone richer, or more famous perhaps? Am I a step on your ladder to the top? You have never, until tonight, given me a reason not to trust you, but you have to admit that this is rather out of the blue and your behaviour at the party was… not very polite. You abandoned me-“

You scoff at that, unable to stop yourself. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. Hanjae raises his eyebrows and waits for you to explain yourself. You’ve no idea how. You say nothing. You’re the first to break eye contact and you look at the ground, then the window, the desk, anywhere but Hanjae’s face.

“Fine,” he says. “Have it your way. What a horrible boyfriend I was to you, to treat you to presents and dinners and parties, to be so impressed by you that I want to show you off to everyone I know, to speak English with you and help you with Korean, to help you get settled in, to give you a social life, to show you what Seoul has to offer, what I have to offer, to never treat you like-“

“A person. You didn’t treat me like a person, Hanjae. I’m not a prize to show off; I’m a person first, not an object.” Your heart is hammering in your chest and you can feel tears pricking in your eyes. How can you get him to understand?

“Oh, I objectify you?” It is his turn to scoff. “And yet I am the one who has been used.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

“No, I- it’s- we- I-“

“Whatever, you can leave now.” He turns his back on you and picks up his phone again. He turns around with the phone to his ear and nods at the door, shooing you away. You turn around and leave the office on trembling legs. As soon as you step into the lift to go back down, the tears come. You’re not even sure why you’re crying; you wanted this after all. It was just horrible. You feel sticky with sweat all over, and shaky with the stress of it. You know that Hanjae isn’t right, saying those things about you, and he was lashing out defensively, but it hurt all the same. Or maybe he is a little bit right. You said yourself that he’s given you so much, access to things and people and places you wouldn’t have had otherwise; you said yourself that you enjoyed that. Maybe you are in the wrong, at least a little bit. You both are, you suppose. You exit the lift and walk briskly out of the office, not turning to look at the receptionist on your way out in case she sees you crying. You step out of the door and hide behind a pillar, catching your breath, drying your tears and trying to put on a happy face. Leaning against the cold stone of the wall, you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“____?”

Shit. Jungkook is right there in front of you, looking concerned.

“Are you ok? What happened?”

You shake your head and hold up your hands.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You stand up straight and give yourself a body shake. “Honestly, it’s fine.”

“Do you want me to take you home?”

You can’t think of much worse than going home to your poky apartment to spend the rest of your night miserable and alone.

“No… Can we, can we get a drink? Do you want to get a drink?”

Jungkook grimaces slightly. “Ah, that’s kind of difficult for me. I can’t really just go to a bar on a Friday night, y’know?”

Your heart sinks; of course he doesn’t want to go to a bar with you.

“We could have a drink at my house, if you want?” he offers.

Your heart rises. God, yes, please.

You drive back to Jungkook’s apartment in silence. The presence of the driver makes you feel somehow inhibited, self-conscious. You feel conspicuous, even though you’re sure the driver couldn’t care less about who you are or what you’re doing there. He’s just doing his job. You, nevertheless, don’t want to say anything yet, not until you’re alone with Jungkook. He’s scrolling on his phone, and you take the opportunity to study him more closely. His face changes with the changing light: suddenly brightly lit as you stop at traffic lights under a lamppost, then hidden in shadows. He has a kind face, open and bright, deep, soft eyes… You wanted to reach out a finger to trace his profile, the line of his lips, study him as if you were about to embark upon a masterpiece of him. Not that you would be able to capture his spirit if you tried. There’s a light in his eyes that seems to lie so deeply within them but shine so close to the surface.

You can’t work out what you’re feeling – too much, honestly. You need a minute to step back, step out of yourself – out of your life – to sort through everything that had happened. You feel a little as though you have accidentally stepped on a travelator and things are moving faster than you can keep up with. You wonder if you’ll regret any of this in the morning, if sleep will clear your mind and show your actions up as mistakes. You hope not. You think not. You catch the glint of your bracelet, still around Jungkook’s wrist and you nod to yourself. No, this – if this alone – is not a mistake.

When you arrive at Jungkook’s building, he shows you in and your mouth gapes. This was much bigger than Hanjae’s place. Wow. Just how famous was this guy? You are reminded forcefully of how little you actually know about him, whatever your feelings might be saying.

“What would you like to drink?” he asks, crouching in front of a cabinet. He opens the door to reveal all manner of spirits and liquors.

“Oh, anything,” you answer, without thinking. He laughs and you’re embarrassed by your answer but making another decision at this point feels impossible. You feel like a swan, calm on top, but flailing wildly underneath. You begin to think that maybe you should have let Jungkook take you home, so you could’ve gone to bed, or stared out of the window blankly until the sun rose. He’s too stimulating. Questions constantly rise to the surface of your mind like bubbles in boiling water: what’s his family like? What’s his favourite film? What’s his favourite food? Is he single? What’s he thinking? What does he want out of life? He’s already achieved his career dream so what’s his next dream?

He hands you a glass and you take a sip without even looking. It’s strong, good. You follow Jungkook to the sofa and flop onto it, thankful to be sitting comfortably. He asks if the drink is ok and you just nod and take another sip. You’re torn with conflicting desires: to stare at him endlessly, to fall into his chest and listen to his heartbeat, to tell him everything, to listen to him tell you everything, to kiss him, to never kiss him, to be his best friend, to fall in love with him, to fall in love with him and love him from afar from the rest of your life. It’s exquisite, the confusion, the keenness of your muddled feelings. You wonder briefly if you are just drunk but shake the thought from your head: you haven’t had that much to drink.

You drink in silence for a while and when you’ve finished, you stand. Placing your glass on the coffee table, you wander over to the bookcase, full of not books but DVDs and figurines. You scan the titles, your eyes not really seeing. They linger on a small figurine of a tiger at the edge of a shelf. You pick it up.

“Year of the tiger?” you ask, brandishing the figure at him.

“It is.” He stands and comes closer to you, taking the tiger in his hand.

“This is me,” you tell him. 24 years old, you were born two tigers ago. You take the figure back and wiggle it in his face. He laughs.

“I’m an ox,” he says, kneeling down. He opens the door of a little cabinet and reveals figurines for each of the zodiac animals. You laugh picking them up and inspecting them. He takes the ox from the cupboard and the tiger from your hand and puts them both back on the bookshelf. Feeling silly, you move the tiger and make a sound that’s neither quite a roar nor a meow as though the tiger is talking to the ox. Jungkook laughs and responds in kind, lowing deeply as he turns the ox towards the tiger. This is the sort of nonsense you need to lift you from the deep water of your confused feelings.

You move to the window as Jungkook refills your glass. It’s probably a good view that he probably paid a lot of money for but you can’t be enamoured with so many lights and so much modern architecture. You can just barely make out the dark shape of the mountains beyond and you smile; that’s more like it. Jungkook joins you at the window. You talk quietly; you don’t want to tell him that you broke up with Hanjae, because it implies something that you don’t really want to imply, but it comes out in the course of conversation and you actually feel relieved. You don’t know what Jungkook feels about it, if anything, but he seems pleased for you. You feel like everything is so fragile, delicate, precarious. You stay talking at the window for what feels like hours (maybe it is) because you feel that to move will be to ruin the moment somehow, force a shift in the atmosphere that you don’t want.

Your eyes settle on the gold chain at his wrist and your fingers reach out for it, toying with it. Jungkook’s hand moves, into yours, his fingers dancing on your palm. You flick your eyes back to his and he’s smiling at you, shy and sweet. You let him take your hand and suddenly it’s a handshake and you’re snorting, laughing, leaning towards each other as your shoulders shake. You lean your head on his shoulder as your breath comes back and Jungkook moves his hand to waist, pulls you closer to him.

He’s still smiling when you lift your head to look at him and you’re staring back at him, wide-eyed and unsure. He pulls you closer still, his arm snaking around your waist and he kisses you without hesitation. His lips are soft but he isn’t; he’s sure and confident and he brings his thumb to your chin to gently press down, gently open your mouth and let him inside. You’re responding before you’ve had the opportunity to think. Your hands grab at the collar of his shirt and you move against him, a leg between his legs, his bottom lip between your teeth. You’re dizzied and light-headed, grateful to the cool glass at your back and Jungkook’s arms secure around you.

When he pulls back, with apparent effort, he rests his forehead on yours, nudges your nose with his and looks at you from under his thick, dark lashes.

“Honestly, I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he says, his voice hushed in the silence of the apartment, and then he barely brushes his lips against yours again, as if he just can’t help himself.

If you were confused earlier, you aren’t anymore. The world around you has faded to a fuzzy, black blur, eclipsed by the soft bloomings of want in your chest.

“I’ve wanted you to do that all night,” you whisper back, aware only as you’re saying it that it’s true. You have wanted him to do that. You want him to do it again and then a whole lot more.

He takes your face in his hands and kisses you, lightly, gently.

“I don’t usually do this,” he says, eyes alighting on yours for only a second before he’s looking at your lips again. “It’s not… This isn’t like me but…”

“I know,” you reply. “Me, too.”

“I feel…”

“Something.”

“Yeah.”

Your heart skips a beat when he looks at you and the world holds its breath; you almost feel time slow down, the seconds that it takes for his hands to fall from your face, glide down your body, and encircle you again stretch into minutes. The distance between your lips – not even inches – stretches far into the horizon. You almost feel each of the chambers of your heart squeeze, a rush of warmth heating your cheeks, your chest, your core.

And then his lips are on you and you’re like a Catherine wheel, spinning and sparking and wild. Time snaps back like an elastic band and you’re frantic now, all hands and lips and tongue.

You slip your fingers into his shirt, flicking open the buttons, running your hands over his body, soft and supple and flushed. His hands push your dress higher and higher, over the slope of your hips and he lifts you, pushing you against the glass and pushing his body into yours. You can feel the arousal pooled at your core and you can feel him straining against his trousers. You’re wet like you’ve been waiting all night for it, like you’ve been anticipating this very moment since you first laid eyes on him. You push his shirt to the floor, watching it float down like a white flag of surrender: surrendering yourself to him, he to you, to this, whatever this is or could be.

“Oh, fuck, fuck.”

Soft whispers tumble from you as Jungkook’s fingers slide past your underwear and press into your wet heat. Your cunt squeezes against them and your hips cant towards him as he presses his thumb against your clit. Your whimpering, whining, mewling barely drowns out the squelch of his fingers working inside you, arousal dripping down his hand. You’re climbing steadily to your peak, moaning against his mouth as he rolls his tongue with yours. You pull on his hair, his head tipping back, his throat exposed. He looks down at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a slack jaw. Then he grins, thrumming faster, pressing harder and you’re squirming. You let go of his hair to clutch around his shoulders, holding on hard as your own head tips back, thudding against the glass.

Jungkook brings his face close to yours and nudges your nose with his, gently guiding your attention back to him. He holds your gaze as your legs quiver and shake, as your breath hitches and you close your eyes, so, so close now.

“Look at me.” His voice is low, soft, but demanding. “I want to see you… I want you to look at me when you come.”

And you do. Your eyes don’t leave his as you fall apart in his arms, pleasure coursing through you like a lightning strike. You’ve barely finished before he’s crashing his lips into you, urgent and needy and then suddenly neither of those things. He slows. He removes his fingers from your soaking wet slip and he holds you close to him, just barely grinding his hips into you. His kiss is deep, languorous, like he’s really tasting you now. The quiet moan he makes as his tongue rolls with yours makes your heart skip a beat and you’re weak. So weak that, when he drops you, lightly, your feet returning to the floor, you almost stumble, almost fall. But he’s got you.

He pushes your dress back down, smoothing it out so he can unzip it. He finally breaks your kiss as he pulls it from your shoulders, letting it slip down your arms. You’re braless and goosebumps sprinkle all over your skin, your nipples shivering to attention. You run your hands through Jungkook’s hair as he dips his head, lowers himself to kiss your neck, your chest, to run his tongue up the underside of your breast and suck your tight little bud into his mouth. The glass at your back is cold but he is so warm in front of you.

He drops to his knees, hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulls them to the floor. You step out and he flings them away.

“I want to make you come again.”

He looks up at you and his eyes are wide, imploring, asking, seeking, searching and it’s all you can do to just nod. You’ve had one-night stands and hook-ups and situationships and even boyfriends who haven’t said that to you, who haven’t cared enough to try for one, let alone more.

He’s still looking at you when he puts his mouth on you and runs his tongue through your folds. You let your head fall back again, eyes to the ceiling. Jungkook grunts, the vibration against you a little shock. You look back down at him and he nods, swirling his tongue around your clit, and you understand: he wants you to look at him, he wants to see you and wants you to see him seeing you, as you have all evening. Because he does. See you. He sees you like no one else has. You can already feel it bubbling up within you. You can sense his soul reaching out to yours as yours reaches back to him. You think to yourself that you would probably have fallen in love with him even if he weren’t so good at—

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook. Fuck. Yes, like that.”

He’s fucking you with his fingers again with his mouth sealed around your clit, the soft plane of his tongue pressing against it, sucking and then lapping. You grab onto his hair, hard, grounding you, something, anything to tether you to this world as you feel yourself floating away.

He groans and you understand his instruction, having to drag your eyes back to his. His brows are furrowed, eyes shining bright. Looking into his eyes at this moment is like falling into an abyss. Tumbling and twisting, your body writhes with pleasure, shuddering against the window as you come again, a cry strangled in your throat, legs shaking and then you’re literally falling, sliding down the glass. Jungkook follows you down, his fingers still pressing against you as he kisses up your stomach, your chest, and then he’s holding you. You’re in his arms and he’s kissing you, your own arousal all over his lips and his tongue.

“You ok?” he asks, his voice thick and low.

You couldn’t speak. Could only take his face between your palms and kiss him again. He lifts you up into his lap, so you’re straddling him, knees either side of his hips, and you can feel him, pressing against his trousers, trapped and tensed. You sit down a little further and roll your hips over him; he groans into your mouth and his hands on your glutes squeeze tight.

“Jungkook,” you whisper and he whispers your name back. “Please.”

He lifts you from his lap and kneels up, hands working at his belt and his zip. He stands to shuck them down his legs and kicks them off. You look up at him and ask,

“Do you have…?”

He nods, crossing the room to his wallet on the sideboard by the door. You press your hands against the cool glass of the window, but rather than cooling you, it warms, too. There is heat all over you, burning around you.

Jungkook returns and falls to his knees, condom in hand. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and mumbles, rolling his eyes at himself as he stands once more to push them all the way down and off. You giggle, reaching out for him, rising on your knees as he slides the rubber over his length. He pulls you to your feet and cages you in against the window, lips capturing yours.

He bites down on your lower lip and you can feel him at your entrance. He’s rubbing his length along your slick slit and you’re whimpering, walls fluttering, heart racing. He breaks the kiss to look you in the eye as he pushes into you. A soft gasp leaves you and your hands circle tight around his biceps. You can feel him slow, his eyes watching you carefully now.

“No, don’t stop, don’t stop. It feels good. Please.”

He continues, still slowly, and, when he’s all the way in, he kisses you again, pressing his body against yours.

“Jungkook,” you breathe, but whatever you were about to say disappears into a moan as he drags his cock out and then pushes back in. He moans back and brings a hand to your breast, his thumb rubbing light circles against your pert nipple. You’re already not sure how you’re still standing and then he lowers his lips to your neck and sucks at just exactly the right spot. Your legs tremble and your cunt quivers and you feel his hot breath against your skin as he chuckles.

“You like that, huh?”

“Yes.”

He says no more and his lips return to the sweet spot on your neck. You cling to him, gripping tightly, every pass of the head of his dick against your g-spot a test of your strength, fading rapidly as you start to drown in him. He thrusts deep and slow with little grunts of effort, like he’s holding back.

“Jungkook, I—”

“Yes?”

He’s looking at you again and, up close like this, he takes your breath away.

“I want more. More. I-… I can’t stand, but I wan—oh.”

He doesn’t even let you finish before he’s grabbing you, his hands at the backs of your thighs lifting you, taking all your weight onto him. You wrap your legs around him and he moves faster now, harder, looking down at where he disappears into you. He’s more vocal, louder, as he fucks you into the window and the sound of him, his pleasure, his pleasure in you, stirs you. You’re fucked out and weak but your desire renews your force. You squeeze your walls against him and he curses.

“Shit.”

You do it again and a tiny chuckle bubbles up in his throat.

“Baby, you are dangerous. You’re—fuck, hngh—you’re going to make me come.”

He’s panting and breathy and his hair sticks to his forehead. You wrap you arms around his neck and kiss his cheek, his jaw, bite at his earlobe.

“Isn’t that the point?” you whisper.

A shudder runs through him and he growls, his grip on you tighter, even painfully tight. You pull back to look at him and his eyes are black, his jaw set, his brow furrowed. But he’s still looking at you; his eyes aren’t glazed, aren’t elsewhere, aren’t looking through you. He’s seeing you and you feel naked but not afraid, not exposed. You hold his face and kiss him and he grunts, groans; it’s open-mouthed and sloppy, your breath mingling as your tongues slide past and over each other.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours and his stare is so intense, from that alone you would know he was close. He’s cursing lightly, repeatedly, fucking you hard, and then he’s coming, too, with a shudder and an animal groan, guttural and low.

He lowers you both down to the floor and lays you down, kissing you lightly, almost politely, as he brushes your hair from your face. He turns away and stands, disposing of the used condom and grabbing the blanket from the sofa. You just watch him return to you, settling next to you on the floor, covering both your bodies.

You look at the window where your heat and sweat have condensed in an already fading cloud. You laugh and point it out; he laughs, too.

“It’s almost gone already,” he says, watching it shrink, disappear, self-effacing.

You hum. This is usually when you’d feel awkward, make a show of being polite, get up and go but you don’t want to leave; you want to stay right where you are and watch the sun rise with him. You want to yawn and stretch yourself like a cat before curling against him and sleeping through the morning. You want to kiss him both goodnight and good morning. You look at him looking at the window and imagine an entire life with him, spanning years and decades in a second. Your heart beats heavy in your chest and you wonder if he can feel it, if he feels it, too.

When he finally looks back at you, you know. He kisses you like you’re precious, gently traces the shapes of your face with featherlight fingers. You shiver and he pulls you closer into his warm body, pulls the blanket tighter around you.

“Y’know,” he says, pausing to kiss you again. “I’m really glad I went to that party.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts x reader #bts smut #mmm repost

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robinofgothamcity · 1 month

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"so i cry and i pray for you to love me, love me, say that you love me."

♡ character: damian wayne x reader

♡ pronouns used: she / her

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / hiiii ik i haven't updated in a while but like life bro lmao anyway im trying to find a new job bc a bitch needs money so like big girl stuff happening around here anywayyyyyy here is a blurb/drabble thing i kinda made it up on the fly so sorry if it's shitty

your rose gold dress was dragging against the floor as you were going around from league member to league member introducing yourself on the behalf of black canary. the annual JLA gala was one with a bunch of uppity superheroes and their sidekicks trying to get on everyone's good side which did not interest you at all.

your domino mask was not comfortable at all, nevertheless, it clashed with your very expensive dress. you knew dinah would have liked you to make your rounds with everyone but you were not interested in making friends with anyone that you weren't with usually.

you had been looking for jon or jaime but you figured that they must have gotten dragged around the gala by batman or even superman for things they didn't want to do themselves.

as you approached the snack table, you noticed the R patch standing right in front of you. you had yet to met the infamous robin and although you figured that batman was going to need your assistance in the teen titans one day in the not so distant future, you assumed that your first encounter with the boy wonder would be there.

you handed robin the drink he was looking for and smiled, "figured it beat having to reach across the table for it," the boy gave you a smirk, instantly making your face warm up, "(sidekick name) right? canary's righthand woman?" you nodded, "interesting way of meeting each other," you replied.

robin chuckled as you heard jaime finally scream your name frantically from the other side of the room, "sorry for cutting this short, duty calls when your dumbass best friend is calling for you," you stated as you grabbed your dress and darted to where jaime was.

damian swirled his drink around for a moment before grabbing his phone. he knew bruce hated when he was on his phone but he never thought that canary's sidekick was this....cute. damian also knew everyone's name, no thanks to bruce, so he knew it wasn't going to be too difficult to retrieve your information.

damian had found your instagram which was public and immediately scrolled through it. he found what was normal for girls your age. pictures with you and your sorority friends in some and others showed pictures of you and your family.

as damian continued to scroll he noticed the eye twitch he'd get when he saw a photo of you and a guy friend with his hand a bit too tight on your upper thigh. he knew that he didn't have any reason to get even slightly jealous, however; it wasn't a secret that whatever damian liked he eventually got.

he chuckled at the picture he saw of you looking up at dinah as you hugged her with a simple heart as the caption. damian knew that you weren't stupid enough to give off any real connection that you had to dinah but he figured that you must've wanted to appreciate for taking you under her wing.

damian made his way to where you were with jaime, bart, jon, and a few others. you were leaning against the bar, having a beer with jaime and jon as jon was the first to notice him.

"hey robin, fancy seeing you here with the rest of us mere mortals," he joked. it wasn't very common to see damian with the rest of the titans and young justice team. he was usually glued to batman's side as it was his duty to fulfill any questions he had of his own but he figured that since had taken an interest with you, one night like this wouldn't be so bad.

jon followed damian's eye trajectory and chuckled in amusement.

"shooting for the big leauges, huh?" jon asked. damian looked over to him so he could elaborate, "canary's sidekick is a very popular girl to say the least. the media loves her, i can't begin to explain how man lovesick letters i've had to sort through from her fans, and the league themselves love her. plus, i've noticed that a lot of our teammates are very interested in getting to know her, if you get what i'm saying."

damian scoffed, "and i'm damian wayne so lets see how that fairs for everyone else," jon knew damian was as cocky as they came but he knew that his confidence was on another level and what he wanted he usually got whether it meant getting his hands dirty for it or not.

the lights in the roomed had dimmed as he noticed that you were now by yourself with a wine glass between your fingers. damian fixed his tie as jon dusted his best friends shoulders off in encouragement. jon was always ready to support his best friend in anyway that he could even if that meant slightly sabotaging his other friend's chances with you in the process.

you were sipping your red wine as damian approached you cooly, "hey robin! nice seeing you again!" he smiled slightly as he took your cheap wine and set it on the table and handed another one for you to tase, "a red wine from napa, 1909 to be specific," your eyes widened as you took a sip.

"it's slightly bitter but it's pretty good," you replied as you took another drink, "thank you for this, i didn't think i'd be getting any kind of drinks from anyone tonight," you added on.

damian put his shoulder against the wall as he noticed how he practically towered over you, "do you think i could have this dance with you?" he asked as he heard the next song start to play.

you were shocked to say the least.

you knew how hard it was to get on robin's good graces and you had practically done nothing to achieve it. the song was slow and he took your hand softly as he led you to the dance floor.

thankfully, the room was dark enough to where others wouldn't notice that it was him dancing, "thank you for asking me. i didn't think i was interesting enough to get a dance from thee boy wonder tonight," damian laughed, "the pleasure is all mine. i didn't think canary had such an interesting protege,"

"i can't say i'm that interesting, i'm still working my way up the league ladder," you replied. damian scoffed, "it won't take long to make you an official hero," he stated, "with someone of your strength and abilities alone, i can imagine you'll be called up in no time."

you giggled excitedly as damian spun you around and had you face him but closer now, "but before that happens i guess i'll teach you the ropes," he whispered, "and can i ask what that might include?" you asked.

damian lifted your chin and stared at you with his emerald eyes.

"i think i can give you a taste test before the exam approach."

damian was never this straight forward, especially when it came to other league members and their sidekicks but he knew what jon said was correct. it didn't take an idiot to realize how loved you were by everyone and he knew his competition, mainly jaime and connor, could easily win you over so he did the only thing he knew to do in a situation like this, act like his playboy billionaire father as much as he could and from what he could tell, he was on the right track.

#damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #robin imagine #robin x reader #robin #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc #dc comics #comics imagine #comics

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xitsensunmoon · 1 year

Text

Biting the Hand That Feeds au FAQ (Vampires + donor au)

Any general content warnings for bhtf au?

Yes. A normal amount of fnaf warnings, a normal amount of vampire warnings. For someone who doesn't know I elaborate... For vampire stuff, the most obvious ones are blood, hypnosis, bites, and animalistic behaviour. Less obvious - slightly suggestive themes. For fnaf - fnaf's usual violence, dark themes, a drop of gore and murders. The lore is uh. Very dark. I will try to decrease the amount of all of the cruelty but man. People who know, know how hard it will be. But I will tag everything properly so don't worry.

Is there a fic for your au?

No. And currently, I'm not even planning on writing one.

How do I find the story?

For now, we have two comics that are directly connected and one that doesn't have a specific place in the story but is about canonical lore.

[ 1 ] - [ 2 ] - [ x ]

In future, we will have more and I probably absolutely will forget to update this post so I recommend checking the tags. Here's the tag list

Tip: don't click the tag. Tumblr hides half of the results. Type it in the blog's search instead :)

Are the comics the only canonical thing about au?

No! I answer asks and draw a lot of doodles with bhtf au all the time and 90% of them are canon. You can, yet again, find everything in the tag list linked in the previous question.

Can I draw/write fan stuff for your au?

Yes, please!! I'm always happy to see fanart and fan writings and literally everything that you do! Just tag me when you post and use a fanart or fanwriting tag for au specifically so I don't miss it!

Can you include my characters in your story?

No, unfortunately, I cannot. The story is already written and I don't have any "space" for background characters either. Maybe it will change but currently, things are like this.

I asked a question with an interaction with my characters and I never got an answer, why?

I don't accept such requests. I'm not ready to spend my time drawing other people's characters for free(if I personally don't want to, of course)

Is there any limit to how many questions I can ask?

No, not at all! You can ask all you want just please make sure your question wasn't answered before. There is a big possibility I will just simply delete it if it was answered beforehand many times. Check the ask tag for it.

What about limitations? Any boundaries?

Please no questions about tickling🧍‍♀️ I got so many of those it already makes me uncomfortable. And for some reason, a lot of people send asks that include violence towards my characters and while I don't really feel uncomfortable with this I just idk what to answer and why are you even doing this lmao

What questions I should avoid?

Well, not really avoid but I will mention it anyway.

The things I have planned to draw right now:

- Sun and Moon and y/n's first meeting

- The creation of Sun&Moon

- Why S&M are sensitive to light and darkness

- How they hunt

So no need to ask me about these. I will show it, I promise.

What about sexual themes?

I understand that I post a lot of suggestive stuff and it may appear I allow such a thing but no.

You can create content with it tho, I don't mind for the most part. Just be ready that I may not reblog it, as my Tumblr is a SFW place. It's always 50/50.

Romantic themes?

I do draw some kisses and cuddles when I feel like it and you of course can send ideas for cute interactions but in the story we're very far away from it lol.

My question gets ignored even though I followed everything that you mentioned here. Why?

Answered in main FAQ.

Can I share the ideas for your au with you?

YES!!! Yes, yes and yes! I'm very open to that, like yes! The only thing that I definitely want to mention - you should expect that I actually can take your ideas and use them. Some people are protective of their ideas so if you're like this you probably should not share them with me :)

The information that you're using for your au is wrong.

Happens sometimes yeah. I know nothing about any medical stuff for y/n so I usually improvise. After all it's an au about robotic vampires man, this information is absolutely wrong. But! You're free to drop feedback/constructive criticism in my inbox!

Will be updated later

#biting the hand that feeds au #bhtf au #my art #for pinned post

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yzashaven · 8 months

Note

HI HI HI MAY I REQUEST THAT U WRITE MENTALLY ILL USER X SCARA DOCTOR:33 LIKE USER IS OBSESSED WITH HIM AND HE FINDS IT ADORABLE!

FEATURING ! doctor!scaramouche x mentally ill!fem!reader

CONTENTS ! reader admitted in a psychiatric hospital, attached reader, reader wears hospital gown, cunnilingus, fingering, use of darling/dear, clit and nipple stimulation, teasing, orgasm denial, neck biting

NOTE ! first of all, I'M SO SO SORRY that this took so long 😭 i loved your request and had a few ideas but couldn't find a way to write it so i had like 5 drafts for this in my notes app lmao anyway, i do hope this turned out alright and you still enjoy it even if it's really messy and is honestly a hard read for me. i'll probably redo this in the future !

a psychiatric hospital. the place where you've been spending most of your days lately. you can't remember why or when exactly you got brought here but that doesn't really matter. and now you're sitting on the edge of your bed, lost in thought as you stare at the man sitting ahead of you, doctor scaramouche. he's been responsible for treating you since the start and seems to be quite fond of you. "hey... are you listening?" your train of thought ends as you hear the sound of fingers snapping right in front of your face. apologizing briefly to him, "you have to listen carefully." he shakes his head before writing something down on a clipboard. "now... where were weㅡ" he's so charming that you can't look anywhere else, looking at him with love in your eyes. "how have you been feeling? i haven't recorded any odd or weird activity from you recently... and that's a good thing, surely you'll be out of here in no time." he smiles gently at you. no way he just said that! you didn't wanna leave and go somewhere he wasn't at.

"do i have to leave?" you asked him sadly, despite knowing the answer already. "of course you have to, darling." oh the way he'd call you by petnames never failed to make your heart race, even the sound of his voice that makes your cheeks blush cherry red. "but i don't want to! i wanna stay here with you." your words caught him off guard, earning a dark chuckle from the man. "and why is that?" "because i like you, you're here..." your face drops, looking down at the floor as reality hits you. he chuckles some more, leaving the clipboard on the bedside table nearby before making his way closer to you. scaramouche's fingers make their way under your chin to lift your face up, resulting in having eye contact between you both. "you wanna stay with me?" he says while seemingly laughing slightly, sharp eyes piercing through yours as he looks down at you. "don't be so obsessive and attached. it's time for you to go home." "scara, no... my home is where you're at~" you're practically pleading at him now to let you stay. "it's doctor scaramouche to you, darling."

"but i do think that i'll grant you permission for informalities with me." he smiles at you gently. "now... how about i give you something to remember me by, would you like that?" his fingers leave your face to step back a bit and discard his white coat as he speaks in a slightly stern yet soft tone. "come on now, get comfortable. i'll make sure you have a good time." your cheeks flush a light red as he smirks at you. making your way to the middle of the bed and sitting down comfortably as you watch him place the coat down on the chair, his slightly tight undershirt accentuating the body features on his torso.

he takes your chin in between his fingers once more before lowering himself down to eye-level and indulging you in a soft kiss, pushing you down on the bed in the process. his hand find its way along your cheek, collarbone and down to your thighs, fingers slipping under the silk white hospital gown with featherlight touches. scaramouche kneels down beside the bed and in front of you on the floor, pulling you closer by the thighs, his face only mere inches away from your heating core. "just enjoy the ride and let me do all the work, alright, darling?" he whispers seductively, constantly rubbing your inner thigh delicately, to which you let out a nearly inaudible whimper while nodding obediently.

with you watching him intently, he finally pushes away the fabric of the gown out of the way and up to your hips, granting access to your nearly soaked panties. he begins by spreading your thighs gently before teasing your slit over the cloth with a finger, dragging along the area. as you let out a soft sigh, he took it as a sign to keep going, leaning in to plant soft kisses on your clit. pulling the garments aside to reveal your glistening hole, he looks up at you with a sly smirk and teases your cunt by adding a finger and softly kisses your clit again. your fingers hurry to pull on his indigo locks in an attempt to pull him even closer. chuckling darkly, he adds another finger, two digits slowly thrusting in and out of your drenched pussy as his tongue skillfully dances with your clit, sending shiver up your spine.

as his tongue continues to stimulate your sensitive bud, his hands make their way up to fully remove the white hospital gown from your body. delicate touches against your soft skin that leave goosebumps at where they made contact. scaramouche gets up from his knees to take into sight of your helpless form on the bed; hair slightly scattered on the sheets, eyes looking at him with desperateness, body exposed to be completely at his mercy. with a long sigh in pleasure his hands went up to grope at your chest from beneath the bra before ripping it off eventually. fingers crawling back inside your tight hole while his lips attach to your nipple, lightly nibbling on the perked up area along with licking and sucking on it every now and then, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body.

maintaining eye contact with you, his starts to rub your clit in slow circular motions, smiling as he watches your face contort to one of pleasure and pure ecstacy. eyeing your neck for a second, scaramouche then kisses your neck trying to find your so called sweet spot. smirking against your skin upon hearing you moan as a confirmation of finding the said area, to which he bites on it, causing your body to jolt slightly with a rather loud moan. slowly lapping at the teeth marks left as his digits pick up a faster pace. feeling your climax upcoming, you tell him so, ready to finally be able to cum on his fingers and coat them in your essence. yet he doesn't allow you to, curling them at an angle one last time, only to pull apart sooner later. moving back to observe your figure once more.

although no matter how much you kept begging for him to continue, he didn't. instead he began to get rid of his own clothes, claiming they were 'in the way of the real fun'. showing off his pretty erected cock as he pulled down his pants, stroking it slowly before pulling you closer once again. teasing your tight hole by lightly slapping his length on you and rubbing his tip along your soaking entrance. leaning in only to whisper a few words that sent you in an exhilarated state.

"i hope you're ready for me. 'cause we most definitely are not stopping."

#☾★ written »#☾★ kuni »#scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #fem!reader

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gayerthanevertbh · 2 years

Text

stay

pairings: pervy!older!natasha x babysitter!reader

warnings: dub-con, natasha being a pervert, non-consensual kiss, anal sex, strap-on (r receiving), mommy kink (n receiving), breeding kink, biting, pet names, dirty talking, praise kink, and more 18+ MINORS DNI

notes: a universe where natasha could actually feel reader with her strap? LMAO? ENJOY??

masterlist | navigation

“How is she?”

I was startled by the sound of Ms. Romanoff’s voice that I had hoped that she wouldn’t have seen me flinching. Turning around, I replied quietly: "She's doing well, Aliana just got into bed.”

She smiled and walked to her room, probably kissing her goodnight. Since Ms. Romanoff prefers to be alone at times, this was my cue to get up and leave. I’ve always been her babysitter ever since I started senior year, and she once admitted that I was her favorite. Knowing how I have parental issues, that information brightened me up like a sunflower. I grabbed my sling bag and stepped outside when I heard a faint call from her, saying: “Why don’t you stay for a bit? It’s raining outside.”

“Oh, I can manage. My house is just–”

She interrupts me, shaking her head, insisting me to stay. “No, please, stay. I think I’d like some company.”

I was taken aback by this. Did she want to spend time with me? Why? I was younger than her by two decades, and the only conversation we would create is about Aliana and how she is such a good child – which I don’t mind. I gave her a small nod and walked back inside, hearing the door shut firmly behind me.

Natasha led me to the kitchen and grabbed two glasses that were meant for drinking alcohol. She took a looking expensive whiskey bottle and poured herself a drink. One thing I know about Natasha is that she loves drinking her favorite alcohol: whiskey. Sometimes vodka, but, that would depend on the feel of her day.

“H-How was the convention?” I asked with my tippy-toes.

“It was great,” she answered, her voice getting deeper as the night aroused. “Do you want a drink?”

“I-I’m eighteen.”

“Right,” she mumbles under her breath, almost cursing that she forgot that I was just a minor. Well, technically an adult who isn’t legally allowed to drink. “Sorry, I’ve had a rough day. You know… all these clients and stuff. Why don’t we sit on the couch?’

I followed her all the way back to the living room and sat down beside her, but we were inches apart. I’d say a good amount of gap between us. I pressed my knees together and started playing with the skin of my nails, wondering and thinking in my head about what else I could talk about with her. Possibly, she’ll be bored if I talk about my school, right? It was hard. It’s writing an essay that you don’t even like.

She pushes her hair away from her forehead and inhales through her nose, I could hear her breathing pretty well from the distance. She asked, “Got a boyfriend or something?”

I shook my head, dismissing the fact that I was never in a relationship.

“No.”

She chuckles, bringing the rim of her glass to her lips as she takes a long sip; smacking her plump lips afterward, tasting the sensational feeling of the alcohol on the tip of her tongue.

“Boys are dumb anyway.”

“I never had a girlfriend either.”

She looks at me with bewildered eyes. “Seriously?” she was trying not to laugh, but she couldn’t help herself but chuckle lightly at my confession – it almost made me want to cover my face. “Well, I assumed you were into girls as well.”

“H-How?”

“The way you dress,” she said with a long deep hum. “Maybe the way you would stare at me whenever you’re here.”

“Oh,” I let out a hiccup, taking my eyes away from the woman as I felt my cheeks heating up from the statement," she has said. Did she seriously see me staring at her?! “I-I’m sorry, I have a staring problem.”

“Me too.”

I looked at her and noticed that she was gazing into my eyes, then into my lips. But that briefly happened when she took another sip from her glass, and her eyes were removed from mine – as much as to my disappointment. Natasha said, “My daughter really likes you, she’s never been like this with any nannies.”

I giggled, covering my mouth. “I’m glad that I get to be her nanny, Aliana is a great kid.”

She nods, smiling to herself while drinking from her glass once more. “Yeah,” she mumbles. “She’s my only baby.”

“W-what happened to her dad?” my mouth didn’t stop me from speaking out of my mind, and I sincerely regret saying it out loud. She turns her head slowly and gives me a look that I don’t recognize from her. It’s a different look, and I knew I’ve crossed the line. “I’m sorry! I-I shouldn’t have said that, I was just curious–”

“Gone,” she responded, her voice on edge, but her eyes were soft like a petal of a rose. “He’s gone. He’s a fuck-up.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah,” she chuckles, rather deeply, and finishes her glass with a form of red seeping out of her eyebags. “Shit, it’s late. Why don’t you stay for the night? I have a spare room.”

“I don’t think so,” I replied kindly, rubbing my forearm in response to my anxiety. She tilts her head and smiles, shaking her head. “N-No, I’m sorry. My mom must be expecting me to come home.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll go tell your mom that you’re staying with me.”

It wasn’t because I was scared of her, it was more like I was trespassing into her home since I’m not a family member nor a friend in her eyes. I was just a babysitter, a good little babysitter for her kid. It was getting colder outside, and the windows started to fog up due to the coolness. So maybe staying at her place wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

But I couldn’t, knowing my infatuation for the older woman will increase like a gas pedal. I said quietly, “I have to go home, Ms. Romanoff. It is rather late and I have school tomorrow–”

“Please,” she asked, almost in a begging matter as she intertwined her hands with mine, holding it close to her stomach. “Stay with me, just for the night.”

Natasha sits closer and slips her hand into my shorts, touching my crotch through the cloth of my panties. I gasped loudly, knowing that this scene could go somewhere else and that it might as well be sinful to sight. I shake my head, trying to push her hand away, but she puts on more pressure and kisses the shell of my ear like a predator insatiable for its prey. “Natasha!”

“Please,” she begs again, kissing my neck with wet lips. “Let me touch you, just stay still for me…”

She palms my arousing core, breathing hard on my neck with whimpering noises that sounded too lewd for my ears. I turned my head away but her other hand pulled my chin to her side and sloppily gave me a kiss on the mouth, moaning with a cry cracking inside her throat. This felt surreal to me, the kiss made the uncomfortable silence slip away but I was in my head too much. I needed to slip away from her mouth, this wasn’t making me feel very good. She was sweet but rough, hard but also soft. And when she groped my left breast, I knew that was my last straw.

“Stay away from me!” I bolted up, padding my shorts away as I walked to the front door with my feet thudding on the ground. Natasha chases after me and tries to pull me closer to her, but I slapped her the face of her cheek hard. We both gasped, knowing that I’d just laid my hands on her, and I knew that I’d regret it the day I woke up. She rubbed her reddening face but kept her eyes on the ground.

“Y-You touched me,” I whimpered, holding my bag close to my private area. She only gave me a sad look and scratched the back of her neck, almost feeling ashamed for what she had done. “I always had a crush on you but I never thought you’d be a pervert!”

“Y/n–”

The truth is, I liked the way she touched me down there. I most certainly loved the way she kissed my neck, how she was desperate for me and only me. It’s almost as if I was important – validated. But knowing that she was in her drunken state and the sense of infidelity, I couldn’t bear myself to ruin a relationship between us that seemed fragile at this point.

“Touch someone of your own age,” I didn’t realize how vocal I was when I suddenly become so… aroused from what happened recently on the couch. “B-But don’t ever do that on me.”

“Admit that you liked the way I touched you,” she smugged, chuckling from the side as she got closer, which I immediately backed up. “Come on, you know you liked it.”

“No, I didn’t.” I lied.

She grabbed my wrist, but I wrestled away as I pushed her chest. I gave her one last look before storming out of her house, not caring if my bag gets wet from the rain, not caring if I cry throughout my walk back to the house. I debated to myself whether I should still babysit for her daughter or not, but I realized that if I did leave, Aliana would be devastated. But if I stay; Natasha will keep touching me, and I would end up having sex with her.

I got back to my room safely and took a warm shower with the previous incident that had happened not even thirty minutes ago.

—

Once again, I found myself in Natasha’s home, much to my surprise. But this time, she was here with me and Aliana. I had hoped that at least she would be away again from work, but she was here the minute I rang the doorbell. The only difference is: she had a friend over, I think her name was Wanda… or something. I don’t know, why would I need to know? It’s not like I’m her girlfriend.

I knew she had guilt in her eyes the moment I walked in, I could barely even look up at her with my pearling eyes. The atmosphere has gotten thick as well as our relationship, I don’t know how I would respond to her if she ever talked to me again; somehow wishing that she would.

“Is mama mad at you?”

I was taken by surprise by Aliana’s question, which clenches my heart with the thought of us not having an interaction. Though, I shook my head in response, pretending that everything was okay between me and Natasha. Even just for the little girl in front of me.

“No,” I whispered, patting her head with my hand. “What makes you say that, honey?”

“Because I saw mama crying before you came by,” she said sadly. “She looked really sad, Y/n. I didn’t know what to do.”

I didn’t know what to do either – I felt bad when I remember speaking to her like that. Calling her a pervert, and hitting her on the chest, is something that I regret deeply. I could’ve just spoken to her in a calm way, I could’ve just done that.

“Your mama and I are okay hon,” I smiled at her, gently pinching her cheek as I received a huge smile on her face. “Listen, why don’t you play with your dollies? I’ll go check it out on your mama.”

The little one went back to the living room as I cleaned the kitchen area, sighing to myself. If I speak to her now, I will get a paycheck and might never see her again. Because if I tell her that I wouldn’t want what she wanted, the only reason for us to depart is me going away first. But deep inside, I wanted what she wanted. I wanted her to touch me, to lick me, to kiss me as if I’d lost my breath.

It’s a treacherous feeling; something magical yet devious.

“Y/n?”

In front of me, Natasha held a glass of whiskey and a cigarette in between her fingers. I looked at her briefly, then kept my eyes on the stove instead. I could hear the other woman, Wanda, having a conversation with Aliana while Natasha was in the same area as me. I wish that she could just walk away and never talk about what happened that night. Because if we did – this time, I’d let her kiss me.

“Is there anything you need, Ms. Romanoff?”

“You know we have passed formalities, Y/n.”

I sighed, nodding at her answer. I turned my back on her when I felt her hand gripping my wrist – gently this time – and looked at me firmly with her watering eyes. I know she was about to cry, and I didn’t want to see any of it. After all, she did touch me that night without my permission; even though it was a great turn-on for me.

“I-I think you shouldn’t touch me,” I whispered, my lips trembling as I spoke. “We still haven’t talked about what happened that night.”

“I know,” she said, whispering to me in the same tone as mine. “Can we talk? Please? Maybe when Wanda leaves?”

“I have exams tomorrow,” A pause. “I-I think you should let go now, I have to go soon anyway.”

“But I want you to stay…”

“Please,” she asked, almost in a begging matter as she intertwined her hands with mine, holding it close to her stomach. “Stay with me, just for the night.”

No–stop. You can’t feel like this, she’s literally your mother at this point. Get over it.

“I…” I hesitated for a moment, trying to form the words in my hand as I think about other sentences that wouldn’t offend the woman before me. I realized how she was gently gripping me this time, and I could only whimper in the slightest way. “Okay, w-we can talk.”

As soon as Wanda left, it was alright nighttime. At around 9 pm, Aliana went to bed with Natasha’s Russian lullaby; which I find greatly amusing. I was waiting in the living room once again, holding a glass of water between my hands. I watch the clock tick, which represents my heartbeat. Tick tock, tick tock, I hear from afar – and I could admit that I was feeling nauseous each time it ticks.

What if we kiss again? What if I push her away? This doesn’t feel right, yet it’s something exciting like a burning passion of desire.

As soon as I felt tired, Natasha came by the scene. She sat down beside me with tired green eyes and pried her legs open as she sat down with a hunched back. She groans, rubbing her face softly with her hands, and murmurs: “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Oh.” I breathed out, not sure how to reply to that.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice shaking. “Fuck–I’m so sorry, Y/n. I knew I touched you too far, but I couldn’t help myself. I’m so fucking attracted to you and I only knew that since the day I met you.”

I was speechless. I didn’t know that she was attracted to me, or so I thought. I cracked my knuckles in the quiet air as silence was abrupt in the scene. I could almost hear the wind swooshing from outside; it was getting too quiet. Then, I felt the couch dip. I sensed that she was sitting closer to me, and I didn’t move. I just let it happen, almost as if I let her touch me that night.

She rests her hand on my thigh and squeezed my skin, making me let out a sharp breath. Her face was so close to mine that you think we might kiss, but I was damned to even think like that. She whispered with her breath trickling on the corner of my mouth, “Kotenok, look at me. Please, just look at me.”

“I can’t.”

I could feel her hand creeping closer to my core, and I made no effort to close my legs. Instead, I let her do it, I let her do whatever she wanted to do with me. She kisses the bare skin of my shoulder as she finally touches my covered core, her mouth letting out a victorious moan.

“Are you a virgin?”

I shake my head. I remember losing my virginity to a girl once, I wouldn’t say it felt amazing but I’d say it felt nice. I think.

“N-No, Ms–”

“It’s okay,” she whimpers, turning me around as she puts me into a hand-and-knee position on the couch. Except, when that happened, she pushed me down on the cushion until the side of my face collided with the soft leather that was on the couch. Natasha kisses my neck while her hands are on my waist, going up and down from time to time. “Please don’t be scared, ‘M not going to hurt you…”

“You’re touching me too far–”

“No it’s not too far,” she whines, shaking her head in exasperation. “Please just be good, I promise it won’t hurt. Has anyone fucked you in the ass?”

If my innocence was obvious, then she would know that. But it wasn’t obvious, so I shook my head in response. I could feel her smiling a bit, and I wish that I would’ve seen that instead of being pressed against this couch.

“Can I fuck you in the ass?”

“I–”

“Please?” she pleaded with whimpering, her hands squeezing the roundness of my ass. As much as I wanted to say no, I also had this firing feeling that I wanted it to happen. I can admit that I needed her to fuck me in the ass if it means to stay connected with her. If she didn’t kiss me that night, I don’t think I’d ever let her do this to me.

“Won’t Aliana hear us?” I asked, moaning quietly when she pulls up my skirt, gasping to herself when she sees me in my tiny panties that could barely cover my buttocks. “T-Tasha–”

“No,” she said as she kissed my nape once more. “She won’t, it’s just you and me, pretty baby. I’m going to take my strap out, okay?”

That’s why there was a bulge in her pants, I thought to myself. I can hear her pants zipping and a ruffling sound, knowing that she’s taking off her pants along with her underwear. As soon as I was about to close my eyes, I felt her strap grazing against my inner thighs, I let out a tiny whimper.

“I-Is it going to hurt?” I asked shyly, clenching both of my fists together as I feel my panties dragging down all the way to my ankles – until it was discarded.

“A little bit,” Natasha admitted, palming my left cheek. “Lift your butt, little girl. I’m going to spit on your hole.”

The knot in my stomach tightens, I could feel her breath trickling on the skin of my ass and I knew that this was bound to happen. I belonged to her, I just simply belonged to this woman who I merely don’t know of other than taking care of her child.

She spits on my hole and spreads the liquid around the tight ring of my ass, as she spits again and again – lubing it up. I was grateful enough that she was working me open, or I could have had serious injury if she just pushed inside of me. Nothing would be enjoyable if that would’ve happened.

“You’re my favorite babysitter,” she murmured to my neck as she wrapped her arm around my waist, pulling me up slightly as she gave my collarbone open-mouth kisses. Wet kisses, to be exact. I let out a sharp moan and she chuckles from that. “You’re loving this, aren’t you? You like it when Mommy is about to fuck you in the ass?”

“Yes,” I said urgently, giving myself to her, as I should be doing in the first place. “Please, just do it…”

I want her, I want her cock, I want everything that she can give to me. I want it all.

She presses her lips against mine and kisses me like no other, holding my body close as she kisses me with full of her tongue. Natasha pulls away with our lips creating a soft wet smack and spits on her hand, lathering her faux cock with her thick saliva all around it. She looks back at me and starts humping me from the back, moaning each time her cock slips in between my buttocks. It was a pretty sight for her, especially when I’m fully submitted to her glory.

“No one else could touch you, okay? No one,” she said, almost in a demanding voice, but you could hear a tinge of sweetness in her tone. She kisses my nape again and leaves a nail trail mark on my ass. “Open up for me, it’s okay… I’m not going to hurt you.”

On the first push, I screamed from my throat. She quickly covered my mouth and shushes me by the ear, whispering: “You can’t be loud little one! You’re going to wake my daughter up.” and kept pushing her length inside of me, I couldn’t help but whimper and cry at the same time. It felt good, too good for my liking. I never thought I’d be such an… anal whore, as they say on the internet. It’s like she’s opening me like it was the last time; I was on top of the hill.

Natasha breathes heavily on my collarbone as her eyes stare at her cock pushing inside of my asshole, her other hand on my hips to hold me back up. “God,” she cries out, resting her forehead against the back of my head. “You’re so tight, I can feel you… I can feel your ass wrapping around my dick.”

“W-what?”

“That’s right sweetie,” she coos, pulling out a bit and pushing back in with the couch squeaking underneath me. “Oh yeah–that’s fucking it, you feel so good around me.”

She brings my face closer to hers as we kiss once again, our tongues battling for dominance. But I simply let her take the lead as I’m too dazed by the feeling of my asshole being fucked with her enormous dildo inside of me, almost as if she’s pounding into me this quick. Natasha pulls out again and snaps her hips back into me until my ass hits her pelvis.

“We’re connected,” she said, cracking a tearful smile. “You’re squeezing my cock too good, I can’t believe I’m fucking my daughter’s babysitter…”

Natasha begins peppering lingering kisses on my shoulder as she thrusts in an upward motion, both of our hips moving in sync. The couch squeaks more, as the slapping of our skin fills up the entire apartment, knowing for the fact that people might as well hear us. But she didn’t care, and neither did I. You could say that I was a cock whore, a cock slut. But I wouldn’t broadcast that aloud, because then – I’d lose my innocence.

“Feels good,” I breathed out, clutching the arm of the couch tightly as she grunts above me each time the tip of her cock hits my spot. “D-Don’t stop, please don’t stop…”

“I won’t,” she reassures, giving my ear a brief kiss before bringing both of her hands to grope my breasts, mounding and pressing them together while thrusting inside of my gaping hole as if it was my vagina. She removed her mouth from my skin, and muttered: “Is this what you wanted?”

I nodded. “Mhm…”

“You wanted this big fat cock didn’t you, pretty baby?”

“Yes–yes!”

“You make me so happy,” she moans in a high-pitched tone, closing her eyes tightly as she feels herself having an orgasm. “You wanted this… you’ve always wanted this.”

I wasn’t sure whether I wanted it or not. Either way, I never thought it would feel this good. Because, in my defense, I was only a babysitter for Natasha’s daughter. And now, I’m a total cock sucking whore for her that would do anything for her will. Whatever she wanted, I’ll let her do it, I was hers anyway.

“I’m close,” she murmurs into my neck, grunting quietly as she gets deeper. While trying to have my climax, I felt her thumb pressing against my clit – rubbing the bud furiously to have an orgasm with her. “Hump my cock, baby. Just push back.”

I did what she told me to do, I pushed back. And boy, she loved it. She was moaning about how delicious my asshole felt around her dildo, praising and kissing me with our bodies pressed together even though we couldn’t feel each other in the way we wanted to. She slowly humps my ass, dragging the length in and out while moaning with whimpers and cries.

“Gonna cum in your fucking ass,” she cries out, biting softly on my neck. “Want me to get you pregnant? Huh? Wanna give me a baby?”

“Mommy, no…” I pleaded, sobbing out loud in the area. What if she has the power to get me pregnant? What if, whatever is in that dildo, does it get me pregnant? I wasn’t ready, I don’t think I was. “W-Wait, no! Don’t cum inside of me, please don’t–”

“It’s only in the ass baby,” she whispers in my ear, slowly thrusting inside of me. Too slow. “Just let me get you pregnant, sweetie… shh, it’s okay! It’s okay…”

Her words were starting to slur, as her hand gripped my waist – surely enough that my skin would be imprinted by her nails. She drags her wet lips all the way to my nape and shoots her fake load inside of me with staggering moans, mixed with her whimpers. She humps my ass twice and holds me down on the couch. “Take it, baby! Take all of my fucking cum in your ass…”

While having an orgasm in my absent cunt, she was still fucking me from behind with her loud lewd moans and deep cries that would ring in my ear forever. She kisses my lips sloppily and whispers with a hazed look, “You’re amazing, you’re just fucking amazing…”

After we were done, she pulled out of me and placed the strap-on on the coffee table, not caring if it would stain my ass cum. She gets behind me and hugs me close, our bare legs intertwined as well as her pelvis pressed against my ass. She rakes her fingers through my hair, and smells it deeply; satisfied with herself.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, and she received a shake of my head. She smiled. “Good, I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

After a long while of silence, I asked in the cold middle of the air: “Are you going to dump me now?”

Natasha lifts her head a little and scrunches her eyebrows in confusion.

“W-What?”

“You’ve used my body,” I replied, cracking a sob between my lips. “The first time I had, s-she left me! She went away and now you’ve taken me you’re going to go–”

“No, no, no…” she shushes, cupping my face as she kisses me deeply with her tongue slipping into my mouth. Natasha pulled away and pecked my wet lower lip, and continued. “I won’t ever leave you, okay? I want you to stay with me.”

Maybe staying with her wasn’t such a bad idea, after all, maybe everything would feel better with her if I did stay. I can hear her in the back of my mind, saying: please, stay. Just stay and I remember being so stubborn about it too. But now as I look at her, I can feel the sincerity in her eyes.

I wanted to stay.

“I’ll stay,” I whispered as I felt her head cradling my head. “I’ll stay.”

“Okay, my little girl. You’ll stay, you’ll always stay.”

i want pervy!natasha to touch me in the-

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #mommy natasha #black widow x reader #black widow x you #a's oneshots!#enjoy lmao

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formereldestdaughter · 1 month

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ok wait i need to hear more of your thoughts on peeta owning a bakery....

This is one of those rare times where I’m pretty sure this anon isn’t someone I know personally bc I’ve subjected anyone who will listen to my rant about the Peeta Bakery Headcanon. Anyway, you’re gonna regret asking this anon bc there are fucking Layers here.

I know this is probably a controversial take based on the number of fics where I’ve seen it, but I simply do not think that Peeta would open a commercial bakery after Mockingjay!! Like on a metatextual level, I don’t think it really fits with the point of the ending of the series. It actually sort of fascinates me that it’s just such a common headcanon because the ending of Mockingjay is exceedingly vague. I think that vagueness invites us, as readers, to imagine a better world post-revolution. A world where Katniss would feel confident that her children would be safe from injustice, where she’d feel confident that her children would never know want the way she did as a child. A just world. A kinder world. Can a capitalist society ever be just? Is a capitalist society where a disabled teenager has no other means to subsist himself (or feels like there’s no other way he can be a contributing member of his community) really the post-revolution world we dream of? Is that really the best we can imagine?

(This got so insanely long I’m adding a read more lmao)

I get that showing a better world is not always the point of post-mockingjay headcanons/fics. Like there are plenty of really great post-mockingjay fics I’ve seen where, yeah, part of the fic is that society like ISN’T all that different or all that much better. I’ve seen that really well done! Hell, I’ve written them myself! It’s easy to imagine how a lot of aspects of society would not get an overhaul, a lot of the same structural inequalities would continue to exist. One headcanon that really stuck with me (I can’t remember which fic it was from) was that Peeta sells basically mail order baked goods to people on the Capitol, sending them iced cakes and pastries by train, because there are still people who were “fans” of theirs during the Games. And idk this doesn’t actually have much to do with my point lol but I liked it because it’s kind of fucked up and like! Yeah! It makes sense! If he needed money that would be a good way to make it! War often makes people rich, often for horrible reasons, and often it’s people who already have capital in the first place.

Anyway, more about the hypothetical bakery because alright. I bring up the fact that “yeah society not being all that different post-revolution and still being an unjust capitalist hellscape” could be a reason why Peeta re-opens a bakery because that’s actually never the types of fics where I see the bakery headcanon. Fics where Peeta opens a bakery are usually trying to make the exact opposite point. Like. Things are getting better, now he can open a bakery! Look at how much better the world is now, plus he’s got a bakery! Peeta is healing, that’s why he can open a bakery now! And I am so, so sorry to inform everyone who’s never had the grave misfortune of owning a family business, but there is truly nothing further from the truth lmao. Like just putting aside the immense amount of emotional baggage that Peeta has about his family, running a small business is an insane amount of work in any context and being a baker especially is physically grueling and involves early hours (and long hours) that aren’t really the best fit with the multiple ways that Peeta is disabled now. (I could go into this more because I have a lot of thoughts. But I will spare you.). I also think it’s seen throughout the books that Peeta is someone who needs time to pursue creative outlets to process his feelings and someone who values leisure and values quality time with his loved ones. And having grown up in his family’s bakery, I think he’d understand the reality that running a bakery wouldn’t leave much space of those pursuits and wouldn’t leave much space for him to have the things that keep him healthy and stable. I think he’d know that the way he is now— after two Games and the war and unspeakable torture at the hands of a dictator—isn’t compatible with the lifestyle necessary for running a commercial bakery.

And tbh with that in mind, I don’t think he’d push himself to re-open a business (one that would be a constant reminder of his dead family and his complicated relationships with them that got no closure) that would require him to sacrifice his physical and emotional well-being. Like I think he might look into the possibility, I think he might even start trying to open a bakery out of a sense of obligation/duty, maybe harboring some idea that this is who he was supposed to be, who he would've been without the Games, or that it’s this last piece of his family that can live on, or that it’s this last connection to his family so he can’t let it die too. But ultimately, I think any attempt to open a bakery wouldn’t get very far. Maybe he'd start wading into the logistical nightmare that is small business ownership and realize it's not for him (because it's probably also true that as much as him and his brothers were involved in the business, there's almost certainly parts they weren't involved with and didn't see, i.e., filing taxes). Or maybe looking into opening a bakery— how triggering it is, the stress of it— causes a downward spiral. Maybe he hates how much he's worrying everyone by unraveling. Maybe having a breakdown from the stress of just trying to open a bakery makes him realize, yeah, maybe in another life he would have ran his family’s bakery but the way he is now just doesn’t work with running a bakery, not without great sacrifices he's not willing to make. I just can’t see a bakery coming to fruition.

I know a lot of fics include Peeta deciding to reopen a bakery as a big step in his healing or include him rebuilding a bakery as part of his healing process but honestly, I think the opposite would be more true: I think Peeta either trying/failing to open a bakery or ultimately deciding not to open a bakery would be hugely healing for him. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way he is now as a person, his new limitations but also his strengths. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way his life his now and accepting that he likes his life the way it is, that he’s satisfied with his life without needing to own a bakery. I think it would be an important part of him coming to terms with the loss of his family. I think he knows he can never have things back as they were and I don’t think he would try to recreate them, especially because his family’s legacy isn’t a business. I think he’s emotionally intelligent enough and self reflective enough to realize that what mattered to him about the bakery— taking care of others by feeding them, being integrated into his community and being actively involved in it, brightening people’s days with delightful things whether that’s beautiful cakes or hearty food or delicious treats— and the things he learned from his family through the bakery, are things that he can carry on in other meaningful ways.

(Do you regret sending this ask yet, anon? Because if not, you will soon. I’m not done yet. There’s more.)

I wasn’t really sure where to put this next part in what is rapidly becoming an essay because it sort of combines the points about like “what do we imagine a post-mockingjay society to look like” with the practical difficulties of starting this bakery but here’s another thing: do people really think that the Mellarks owned the land the bakery was on?? Like, sure, the merchants are the petit bourgeois of Twelve but I still don’t imagine they really own anything. In a society where houses are assigned to people upon marriage, where property ownership and capital are so closely interconnected with citizenship (as shown by the Plinths who, by having immense capital, are able to leave their District and become citizens of the Capitol) do people really think the Mellarks would be allowed to own the land their bakery is on?? I always imagined it sort of like a tenant farming situation: the Capitol gives them the raw materials for the bakery and in return the bakery give them some absurdly high portion of their profits, or the Capitol sells them a year’s supply of raw materials at a premium on credit and at the end of the year the Mellarks have to use the money they made with those materials to pay it back, except it’s never enough to turn a profit so they always have to buy next year’s materials on credit and the cycle continues.

We (understandably) get a really skewed view of the merchant class through Katniss’s perspective so I can see why people come to the conclusion that his family owned the property and, as the last surviving member, he would’ve inherited it. I’ve seen the inheritance thing in fics a lot or a hand wavey “well Twelve was decimated to no one owns anything anymore so it can be his” or even like an almost sort of reparations type situation where he’s entitled to the land as a surviving refugee of Twelve. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t think it fits with everything else we know about Panem that the Mellarks would’ve owned that land and I think the question of whether the government would’ve let him take ownership of the land post-revolution brings up a lot of issues about the structure of society post-Mockingjay that I find more interesting to explore in other ways, especially when, from an emotional perspective, 1) I find the idea of Peeta not opening a bakery more compelling and 2) I don’t think it really fits his character arc by the end of Mockingjay to reopen a bakery, as I went on about at length above lol.

On the flip side: literally who cares!! Do whatever you want!! Headcanon whatever you want!! I get why people go for the bakery!! It’s fun, it’s wholesome, it’s a built in bakery AU that isn’t even an AU. It doesn’t matter if it’s practical or realistic!! It doesn’t need to be practical or realistic!! It’s fanfic of a dystopian YA series!! My unfortunate affliction is that I grew up in a family that owned a restaurant and that I have multiple degrees in the social sciences so I can’t see the bakery without being like “What about the overheard? What about the start up costs? Who’s spending long nights balancing the books? Is Peeta covering shifts when an employee calls in sick? Is Peeta the sole person working there until the bakery is open long enough (often a year or more) to start turning a profit? How does that sleep schedule work with his nightmares? How does that work with Katniss’s nightmares? What happens when he has an episode and suddenly needs to take the day off before he has any employees? Does the bakery just remain closed for the day? Can the profit margins withstand regular unexpected closures? Can the supplies withstand regular unexpected closures?” And if the answer is “Elliott none of those things matter he’s not doing the bakery because he needs the money but because he wants to”, then my question is why does he want to? Does he not get the same sort of satisfaction out of feeding his loved ones? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would rather give away baked goods than sell them?? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would prefer to make cakes for people’s special occasions upon and then when they insist on paying him for it, he only lets them “pay for the ingredients” which actually cost significantly more than he says they did??

So yeah my point is that it’s a matter of personal taste! It doesn’t fit the way I see the series but that doesn’t mean it’s like wrong, I’m not an authority on Peeta lmao.

It’s also a matter of personal taste in the sense that I find the themes that most resonate with me at the end of Mockingjay (and the end of Peeta’s arc specifically) more interesting to explore in other ways. Grief, living with loss, relearning yourself, finding hope, figuring out your place in a dramatically different world when you don’t even know who you are anymore, healing, building a new life after such complete and total destruction of your old life— those are all things I find compelling about the end of Mockingjay but for me the bakery isn’t the most compelling way to explore them.

Not to say I find the concept of the bakery totally uninteresting. I have this fic about Johanna that I’ll probably never finish where the point sort of is that, yeah, her life really isn’t all that much better after the war. It’s been years at this point and she’s still miserable and she doesn’t know how to be a person but by the end she’s trying to figure it out. And towards the end, Peeta tells her that he’s spent years sort of passively, half-heartedly trying to figure out how to inherit the land his family’s bakery was on, only to find out it was never theirs in the first place. They’d been renting it the whole time and he’d never even known as a kid. So he sort of passively, half-heartedly went on another wild goose chase to find the owner and now, finally, after years of writing to various government agencies and being sent in circles and things being barely functional, he’s managed to track down the owner. Now it’s owned by the daughter of the man who owned it when he was a kid because the original owner (who was likely up to some sketchy war crime shit) died during the war and she inherited it (the irony…). He got in contact with her and asked how much it would take for her to sell it and she told him she’s not interested in selling but in light of the situation, in light of the fact that he’d have to build a new building in order to operate a bakery, that she’d cut him a deal— she’d only require 50% of the bakery’s profits as rent instead of the 80% his family used to pay. And of course Johanna is outraged, that’s not right, the owner shouldn’t be allowed to do that, they should do something about it, they should fight back. And Peeta is like. Not interested. He was actually sort of relieved that opening wasn’t very feasible. Getting the answer was a lightbulb moment where he saw that over the years of trying to look into this, he’s built a life that he likes— one where he’s stable, where his loved ones are stable, where he’s cared for and can care for others— and he doesn’t really want to change it drastically by opening a bakery anyway. He just needed an answer, one way or another, before he could get some closure and move on. (And the point of the conversation is Johanna is having her own lightbulb moment that it’s okay to move on, it’s okay to change, it’s not a betrayal of the people and things she’s lost but that’s not my point here!!).

But anyway. That’s obviously not about running the bakery— it’s about the choice to not run one.

Anyway!! Anyway… are you satisfied anon? Is this what you wanted?

Lastly, here is my most important qualm with the bakery headcanon: must Peeta be gainfully employed? Is it not enough for him to be Katniss’s boytoy? Can’t he just paint and garden and bake and hang out with his girlfriend all day? Is that really too much to ask?

#peeta mellark #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games meta #anyway wow this got so long and I literally read it through one (1) time so uhhh sorry if this makes no sense!!#as I was doing my one read through and realized that one of my other thoughts on this is that yeah I can much more easily see the #headcanon that peeta like sells baked goods (probably at cost with no profit) out of his kitchen because that’s much more flexible #and I think that would work a lot better with what like I guess I’d call his psychiatric disability post mockingjay #and how he’d certainly want to take care of Katniss too #like that sort of flexibility makes a lot more sense for him and it’s like. if he doesn’t bake for a few days or however long then it’s fin #it’s not a formal brick and mortar business #it’s just something he’s doing because it’s a way to be involved with people and a way to do something he’s passionate about #without there being waste and while covering some of the costs #and he doesn’t have to like keep books or do payroll or any of the things I can’t see him being very passionate about #as far as like bakery management goes Lmao he can just bake!!#but then I started getting into this whole thing about how that quote-unquote ‘running a business’ like that (informally from your house)#is actually a really common practice for people living in poverty so probably something that Katniss and peeta would’ve been familiar wirh #anyway and then this whole rant about how the emphasis on the brick and mortar bakery often goes hand in hand with #this widespread fandom thing of having a fundamental misunderstanding of how rural poverty works and what it looks like #but then I was too deep into it and said you know what? never mind! and deleted it lmao

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dizzyjelly · 7 months

Text

Good Morning, Ellie Williams

Word Count: 2.4k

Part 2 here

Summary: You’ve liked Ellie for a while, and seeing her is the highlight of your day. But she doesn’t like you, in fact, sometimes she can’t stand you. After being fed up with all her tormenting one day, you flip out and have to deal with your school principal. After this, Ellie reveals her true feelings for you.

A/n: The idea of this fic actually came from a real-life experience I had, but it is not at all the same in this story lmao. I don’t really like the ending I gave this and I honestly wanna make a part 2 but I wanna know what you guys think before I start part 2. I’m working on 3 other fics rn and I think you guys are really going to like them!

It was your favorite part of the day. Not lunch or when the last bell rang, but seeing her. You’d liked her for a while now, so she was your favorite part of the day. And you knew you weren’t hers, for some reason, she just couldn’t seem to get along with you. But, despite that, you’d still greet her every morning. A frown would find its way to your lips if she was absent.

She never missed school unless she had to though. So, every morning like clockwork, you’d walk into your fourth-hour class and sit down. You’d put your bag underneath your desk and as you pulled in your chair you’d say,

“Good morning Ellie Williams.” With a smile, always with a smile.

Even if she didn’t like you all that much, she was kind enough to respond. Most of the time all you got was a nod and a hum, but sometimes you’d get more. You almost gasped the one time she said ‘good morning’ back to you. Not with a smile. But still, you were over the moon.

She never said good morning, instead she’d say ‘yeah’ or ‘hey’ or nothing at all. You tried not to, but you smiled from ear to ear for the rest of that class. Ellie noticed, and she felt good about making you smile. That was until she quickly reminded herself you two were not friends.

Today was like any other, you sipped on your water bottle as you walked into class. The bracelet you wore slid down your wrist since it was a size too big. You found your way to your chair and your bag was set neatly on the floor in no time.

“Good morning Ellie Williams.” You faced her with a smile.

She glanced up at you from her phone, squinting as if she was unsure about you.

“Hey.” She spoke dryly, clearly uninterested in you.

You sighed softly then pulled out your phone, scrolling mindlessly as you thought about the auburn haired girl sat beside you. Maybe one day she’d change, be nicer to you. Maybe she’d even smile at you.

“Your bracelet is too big.” She comments, you look over and see her eyes fixated on your bracelet.

“So?” You shrug, returning your attention to your phone.

“Whatever..” She rolls her eyes and then looks back at her phone.

Why was she looking at your bracelet anyways? Was she.. admiring you? It was weird of her to notice such a specific detail about you. And just yesterday she’d helped you clean up the contents of your pencil case after a spill. She was being nicer. Weird.

The next ten minutes of class were spent listening to your teacher explain today’s schedule. You guys were going to be working in the library, which you’d enjoy. The library at your school was pretty and it had great AC. The following ten minutes consisted of packing your things up and walking down to the library.

Once you got there your teacher told you to pick partners. You panicked. None of your friends were in this class, the only person you really knew was Ellie. But, much to your surprise, she looked your way. A head nod was her way of asking to be your partner. With a small sigh, you stood beside her and waited to receive your assignment.

After the teacher handed out your papers, you smiled at Ellie. She kind of just.. stared at you. You ignored this and started to read the instructions off the paper. Your assignment was to pick out a book you’ve read and do a report on it. All the information you needed was laid out in the rubric. You and Ellie now stood at a bookcase, pulling out random books and reading the titles.

“I don’t read.” She whispers to you after a few minutes.

“I figured, don’t worry, I read.” You shrugged with a chuckle.

“Ok..” She cleared her throat and just stood there awkwardly while you kept searching through books.

“These bookcases are so fuckin’ fancy..” You chuckled softly, “I bet if you pull the right book, a secret passage will open.” You joked, looking over at Ellie.

She chuckled. You looked over at her, and realized, she wasn’t laughing at your joke. She was laughing at you. At you. She sighed and looked away from you.

You pursed your lips into a thin line, not saying any more as you continued to look through books. You’d finally found one and then you and Ellie walked over to a nearby couch in the library, sitting down and taking out your papers. After a few minutes of you doing all the work, and Ellie just sitting and watching, she finally said something.

“I wasn’t trying to be a dick earlier. Sorry.” She whispers to you, your face goes red at her apology.

She is being too nice. What the hell.

“Why are you being so nice?” You whisper back, not even saying it’s ok because you were too focused on her attitude change.

“What do you mean? When am I not nice to you?” She asks back, as if she was friendly and kind all the time.

You turned to stare at her with a confused expression. She looked back with a similar one, and you realized she was being serious.

“Do you know how many times I’ve said good morning to you?” You ask, not giving her time to answer. “We’ve been in school 67 days, and I’ve told you good morning 65 times. Minus two days because you were out for the flu that one time. You have said good morning to me once.” You explained, Ellie was surprised.

Not only that you’d kept track of when she wasn’t in school, but your math was surprisingly good.

“I’m mean because I don’t tell you good morning?” She asks.

You sigh, clearly she didn’t get the point.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter, let’s just get this over with..” You sighed, focusing back on your work.

Ellie nodded and didn’t say anything else, just watching you write with her hands rested in her lap. You worked silently as well, not bothering to try and make any kind of small talk. She’d either laugh at you again, or just be weird and nice.

As your teacher came by, Ellie tried to pretend she was doing something. Whrn your teacher asked if she was helping, you nodded and said ‘of course’ even though she’d done jackshit. It didn’t matter to you, and you weren’t interested in getting Ellie into any kind of trouble.

She smiled at you, but you just stared down at the paper. She sighed, sitting back and watching you work. Eventually class ended and it was time for lunch. You got up and slinged your bag over your shoulder. You made your way to the lunchroom and sat with your usual friends, taking your lunch out of your bag and unpacking it.

While you wouldn’t know it, Ellie watched you. She watched the way you threw your head back when you laughed, or how you gasped with a smile at something your friends said. She smiled seeing you so happy. She’d realized she’d come to like you, maybe more than a friend. Definitely more than a friend.

As Ellie made this realization, she tried harder and harder to distance herself from you. At first she got nicer, but then she got mean again. Really mean. You were tired of it. She’d already been ignoring your daily greetings for two weeks, and for the past week she’d been throwing insults your way.

You’d had enough, it was a Friday and you were just tired. That morning, your mom picked a fight with you like she always does. And she said something they’d make you cry, like she always does. The result of this being a tear-soaked face with runny mascara that you rushed to wipe clean before getting on the school bus.

Despite Ellies tough act, you’d still be giving her a good morning. Not today though. You were just done. It was too much, she’d been too mean. While it was mostly because of the argument with your mother, you felt hurt. And Ellie was partially responsible for that.

After you walked into class, you set your bag down and sat in your chair. You angled your body away from Ellie, taking out your phone and busying yourself. She let out a short, bitter laugh.

“No good morning?” She teased.

You gave her nothing, still. Silence was what her question was met with. Ellie put her phone down and adjusted herself, her brows furrowed as she was genuinely a little worried for you.

“What’s up with you..?” She asks softly, moving her chair closer to yours.

When you continued to not say a word, she nudged you by pushing her foot against your shin lightly. You sighed, finally turning to face her.

“Stop it Ellie” your voice was stern, “I’m really not in the mood, ok?” You gave her a dirty look.

“What do you even mean? I’m just trying to ask you what’s wr-“ She tries to defend herself, but you cut her off.

“I don’t fucking care! Honestly, everyday you pretend to care, or even give a shit, about me, I just get less and less patient! I am so done with all your bullshit, you’re such a liar!” You were just emotional now, knowing no boundaries as you yelled at her, "and you're mean." tears filled your eyes now.

As you saw your teacher approaching you from the corner of your eye, they spilled. You’d been beyond embarrassed, the entire class having just heard your meltdown. Ellie had an unreadable expression on her face. Her mouth hung open, her eyes wide but her brows furrowed.

She panicked when your teacher came over. You buried your head in your arms on the table.

“Uh.. Ms. Y/L/n, you’re going to have to go to the office..” She whispers to you.

You didn’t care at this point, why should you? Your mother already berated you so much earlier this morning that you might not even shed a tear at how disappointed she would tell you she was. As you walked to the office, your cheeks ran red with embarrassment from how badly you just freaked out.

Now, you sat in the waiting area of the office. Your leg bounced up and down so fast and aggressively you thought the floor might break. And then you thought you might actually die when Ellie walked in and sat beside you. Your heart nearly stopped when she leaned over and whispered in your ear.

“Said I was going to the bathroom, wanted to come and clear things up. I’m gonna make sure you don’t get in any kind of trouble..” She tries to reassure you.

And, even if you kind of hated her. Even if she made you cry before you went to bed sometimes. It worked. You let out a small sigh of relief, turning to face her. Due to how close she’d already been to whisper to you, your faces were just inches away. Your noses nearly touched. You pulled back, and looked down.

“I’m.. sorry.” You spoke quietly, trying your best not to cry again.

“I know.” She says back.

Before anything else could be said by either of you, the principal came and called your name. You stood and walked into her office, and Ellie followed not far behind. Once you were in there, the principal proceeded to play the school's camera footage of what went down in class.

Your face was red hot, and you looked away as much as you could. Your principal tsked and sighed, eyeing you and Ellie.

“I don’t even know why Ellie is here, but Y/n, you have to know this kind of behavior is unacceptable.” You were so ready to defend yourself, but Ellie beat you to it.

“Miss, with all due respect, this wasn’t her fault. I have not been the kindest to her, in fact I’ve been terrible to her. I’ve insulted and tormented her, I’ve been unfair. She didn’t deserve any of that.” Ellie's eyes were on you as she said that last sentence.

You were too busy panicking that you might get suspended to notice her gaze. But, after some hard convincing and agreeing to a good amount of after-school detention, the principal let you stay. However, she did ask you take the rest of today off, and told you it’d be a good idea to stay home Monday as well. You had no idea how you’d explain your mandatory absences to your parents, but you were just beyond thankful the principal didn’t call them. After thanking your principal, you left her office as fast as you could.

Ellie followed and she started to walk with you, even though the class was in the other direction. You didn’t say a word at first, but as you reached the exit doors you turned to face her.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” You had mixed feelings about Ellie right now.

“I did. You’re welcome, and I really am sorry for how I’ve treated you.” She apologized, and she actually sounded genuine.

“Yeah.” You sighed, you weren’t going to tell her it was ok because it wasn’t, “can I just ask, why were you so mean to me anyway?” you noticed the way Ellie starts to fidget with her hands nervously, and how she looks away from you.

“It’s a defense mechanism I guess,” she says, still not making eye contact with you, “I didn’t know how to deal with the fact that I actually like you so, I acted like I hated you.” She sighs, feeling embarrassed of the way she acted.

“You like me? Like as a friend, or..?” you ask, your cheeks reddening with blush again, there was no way she meant what you hoped she did.

“Um, more than that. I know I give pretty shitty signals but yeah, surprise, I like like you..” she sighs again.

“I like like you too.” You whispered.

<3 ------ <3

It was safe to say everyone in school was shocked when you returned Tuesday. Not only because you didn’t get suspended, but also because of how well you and Ellie were getting along. You felt insecure because there was lots of talk about your freak-out. But Ellie, who was trying to prove herself to you, did her best to quickly and quietly shut all of that down. She was pretty successful too.

And now, every time you say good morning, she says it back.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x you

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taetaespeaches · 1 year

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“When the hell did I do this?”

jungkook x reader (oc) genre: fluff word count: 1.3K

a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s just a dumb little thing about Jungkook discovering he left a few ‘marks’ on Holly’s neck. He helps to cover them but not without being flirty and annoying. Also this features references to “I don’t actually dream of sexy vampires” which is shockingly still stupider than this current fic lmao. It’s not necessary to read that other fic to read this one but I hope for those of you who have read it, it’s a fun little callback. Anyways! Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy :))

p.s. Happy birthday, @holdinbacksecrets! Here’s some dream boy for you. I love you so much, pal. I hope you enjoy! 🧡

The moment Jungkook walked into the bathroom and appeared in the mirror behind you, you sighed harshly and shot his reflection a glare. “What?” He asked, his eyes wide in confusion.

“You’re a menace,” you accused, ignoring how cute he looked with those damn doe eyes.

“What did I do?”

Pulling aside the neck of your t-shirt, you waited for him to see the red mark seared onto the skin of your collarbone. You watched as he pulled his eyebrows together, scrutinizing the small blemish in the mirror, having to walk closer to you to figure out what it was that you were showing him. His eyes finally popped open even bigger, a true deer in the headlights, as he bit back a smile while his gaze bounced between yours and the hickey.

“Menace,” you again scolded, grabbing the liquid foundation as a giggle escaped his lips. Guiltily, Jungkook wrapped his arms around you from behind, nudging the side of your jaw with his nose.

“I’m sorry,” he smiled, peering up at you through the mirror. “In my defense-”

“Don’t.”

“You did enjoy it!”

“I can’t go out like this!”

“But you did,” he defended himself further.

“That’s besides the point,” you whined, glaring at him in the mirror. “Dude, look,” you extended your neck and pointed to the side of it.

“Holy shit,” he giggled, his eyes popping wide open as he ran his thumb over a second red mark. In protest of his amusement, you nudged him in the abdomen with your elbow as you bit back a grin of your own. “You know, I have a solution for this.”

“Don’t tell me to not go-”

“You could just not go out,” he spoke over you with a bratty smile planted on his pretty face. You had planned a night out with friends, and knowing those girls they would never let you live down having not one but two hickeys on your goddamn neck. You could practically hear their vampire comments now, especially after Jimin and his girlfriend caught you and Jungkook all sparkly following your post-photobook Twilight joke. The girl had of course told Yoongi and Taehyung’s girlfriend, and you refused to give those two more ammo.

“Jungkook,” you whined, trying to push him away from you, only for the man to tighten his arms around you.

“Wait, wait, ok, let me help. Ok? I can fix this,” he informed you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Look at me, baby. I’m the golden maknae,” he boasted proudly. “I can do anything, I got you.”

Turning around and shooting him a skeptical glance, you stared into his bambi eyes that would have looked innocent enough if you had been naive to his innate mischievous nature. Sighing, you handed over the makeup. “I don’t trust you,” you remarked, earning a wide victorious smile from Jungkook.

“Yeah, yeah, sit here and let me get to work,” he directed you, helping to lift yourself onto the counter. Planting himself between the v of your legs, he shook the foundation bottle. “I got you, baby.”

It had been several minutes since the man got to work, and you were honestly having too much fun watching his round eyes focus on the job as he repeated the dabbing motion of the makeup blender against your neck. Lost in the task, he mindlessly hummed the post-chorus of Beyonce’s Cuff It, repeatedly.

Holding back a smile, you ran a hand through his fringe, breaking his focus on your neck so his gaze met yours. “Cause I feel like falling in love,” you quietly sang, grinning when a smile cracked his stern expression, followed by a deep sigh. “How’s it going?”

When he huffed in frustration, you giggled at his expense, and well, your own expense. “Why is makeup so hard?” He groaned. Golden maknae, my ass, you thought as Jungkook stepped back and looked at his work with a frown line etched between his eyebrows. “I think this one is done though.”

“This would not be an issue,” you started, Jungkook already trying to shush you by pushing a finger against your lips. Dodging his hand, you continued, “if you could control your-”

“You liked it,” he said again, cutting you off as he enunciated the words deliberately.

“I have that song stuck in my head now,” you whined teasingly, changing the subject and making Jungkook smile cutely at you. “We gon’ fuck up the night,” you sang, Jungkook doing a little shoulder dance in response to you. “Bet you you’ll see far, bet you you’ll see stars, bet you you’ll ele-” you continued until Jungkook cut you off by kissing you suddenly, his lips gentle but needy. When he opened his mouth against yours, a soft moan escaped from your throat, making a smile curve on Jungkook’s lips.

You threaded your fingers through the strands of hair at the back of his head and tugged in a teasing manner, triggering Jungkook to trail his lips down to your jaw. His touches went lower down your neck where he nipped at the skin lightly. It was then that you realized what he was doing, gasping and shoving him off of you, only for him to look up at you with a bratty grin.

“You’re an absolute pest,” you complained through a giggle, smiling at his teasing. “Knock it off,” you whined, Jungkook laughing in amusement at his own action.

“I’m practically a pro at this,” he stared at your collarbone.

“That does not mean you should leave more,” you giggled, shoving at his shoulder as he smiled.

“Now granted, it’s not totally invisible but…” he trailed off, cocking his head to the side as he inspected his work. “If the room is dark.”

Rolling your eyes, you hopped off the counter and turned to look at the mark in the mirror. Surprisingly, it did seem to be mostly covered, only visible if someone was really gawking at you. Jungkook stepped behind you once again, his hands dragging down your forearms that hung by your sides. His fingers traced the bones of your wrists before they slid over your palms and interlaced with your own fingers, holding your hands by your hips. He slotted his chin over your shoulder, his doe eyes staring at your reflections.

“I did good, right?” He asked, seeking praise for a job well done.

“Shockingly,” you joked with a small smile. “Just one more to go.”

Groaning, he spun you around so you faced him yet again, abandoning your reflection so you could appreciate each other’s images in the flesh. He dropped your hands, allowing you to settle them on his shoulders as he placed his palms to the sides of your waist.

Dipping his head, he planted kisses down your throat once again, making you smile as you pretended to protest his affection. “Jungkook,” you warned while he chuckled into his soft pecks, the vibrations from your voice and his laughter meeting on his lips in gleeful love-filled buzz. “I swear to god if you leave a single mark.”

“I won’t,” he whispered against your skin, his teeth barely nudging against you as he smiled. Lifting one hand between you, he dragged down the neck of the baggy shirt you wore with one finger, revealing more and more of your chest. His lips trailed after the digit, leaving soft sweet kisses to your warm skin. Pulling away from you for a moment, he gazed at the newly exposed flesh until his eyes popped wide open, his jaw dropping slightly.

“What the-” he started, dropping off as he stared at you. Pulling your chin towards your chest, you peered down at yourself just as Jungkook let out a breathy chuckle mixed with a scoff. “When the hell did I do this?” He asked, a hint of a smile appearing on his mouth as he gawked at the red mark on the top of your breast, just to the left of your sternum.

Gasping in realization, you turned toward the mirror yet again and examined the mark in disbelief. “Fucking hell, Jungkook, my dress has a scoop neck.” Watching you cluelessly in the mirror, he waited for you to elaborate on what exactly that meant. “This is gonna show,” you bit back a smile, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of amusing you. “This affects you too, those girls are relentless.”

Sighing, he ducked his head toward the floor for a moment before grabbing the makeup off the counter. “Alright,” he exhaled, spinning you toward him once more. “Let’s get it.”

#jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts reactions #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fics #bts oneshot #jungkook oneshot #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfics #jungkook drabble #bts drabbles

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genshingarbage · 1 year

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So, uh, this is just some mindless drabble type stuff that sprouted for my sheer love for Al-haitham lmao, not me with the C1 Al-haitham whaaaaaaat??? Lmaoooo, but yea, this is just pure smut for the sake of smut, so uuuhh? Yea, enjoy, I guess? Lol also fair warning, in my mind Al-haitham is only cold and distant at work and to those he doesn't really trust, with those he trusts he's a giant sweet goofy teddy lmaooooooooo - Mod Diluc

My Business Not Yours.

||NSFW||

Al-haitham x Reader / Smut / One-Shot

The voices inside saying to turn tail and run, not to bother the man, leave him be and that you're just going to annoy him, after all he had stopped showing up at the Akademiya for a while now, and you had already clued in as to why; it was no secret, to you anyways, of the man he shared his home with, how close they seemed to be too. Where ever Al-haitham was in that building, Kaveh was right behind him, as if joint to hip.

You swallowed down the thick lump that was in your dry throat, nervously tugging at the bottom of your shirt that hugged around your body, your skin paling as the thoughts in the back of your mind began to grow increasingly louder the closer you got toward Al-haithams home.

Of course you liked Kaveh, pray he don't misunderstand! He's never done you any ill, and not once has he been rude or dismissive of you, whenever you use to visit he was so chatty and engaging toward you, it almost could've been mistaken for him enjoying anyone's company other than his own boyfriend's. Because they were boyfriends, they had to be. It just made sense in your mind.

But it didn't stop the little pain that nestled into your heart everytime you thought on it for too long, whether you wanted to admit it or not, you had fallen for Al-haitham, pathetically hard might you add. It wasn't your intention too, of course not, The Scribe was merely tutoring you as the Akademiya were low on staff as of late. He always kept discussions, work related, and professional.

Until as of recently, that is however, roughly two months ago, if you were to try conjure an estimation exactly of when he suddenly became a little more informal toward you, making jokes, asking more personal questions, ones that were on the level of what friends would ask. And with this sudden change of behaviour spiked a change in your way of seeing him, feeling for him.

You originally thought he was single, for he'd never mentioned the existence of Kaveh before, not for the entirety of the year you've known him. But he was if anything, a private man, kept to himself on almost everything and anything, so it shouldn't have been a surprise to you when he asked you round one evening for a few drinks, and some light chatter, to suddenly be introduced to this man who unbeknownst to you, and the rest of Sumeru City it would seem, had been settled here for some time now, in Al-haithams home.

But surprise you, it did, and you'd be lying if you didn't have to choke down the raw disappointment and heartache that swelled within upon the realisation as you smiled politely and introduced yourself to Kaveh. But still, you didn't blame him, of course not. You weren't entitled to Al-haitham in any sense of the word. The man can love who he wants, and Kaveh was a charming man to boot, not to mention friendly and sweet. You just got your hopes up is all, silly of you to do so in hindsight now, but what can you do? You're only human.

Still, it had been three weeks since Al-haitham had last been seen by anyone from the Akademiya, and that was unbefitting to The Scribe, other students and colleagues began to chat and spread rumours that he'd chucked his role in, but you knew better, no way in all of Teyvat would he quit his job, one, not unless for immensely good reason, and two, not without showing face and telling you, you hoped...

That is why you now stood here, hand clenched tightly around a case of yours, and his favourite alcohol shipped all the way from Mondstadt, the type you both enjoy when chatting the night away and killing time, knuckles whitened from your tightening grip as your other hand, clenched in a fist raised up toward the expertly designed door. Nerves gnawing away at your sanity and the burning desire to give up on it all and go home, but despite all the sirens going off in your nervous brain, your hand subconsciously knocked all the same.

Knock, knock, knock.

Nothing.

...nothing.

......still nothing.

Was he not home? It would be just your luck, after all, that he be out the one day, the exact time you come by to visit.

Knock, knock-

You jumped slightly as the door suddenly clicked opened. You hadn't heard him approach from within. How silent must he have been?

"Hello Al-" your voice died down in its happy greeting instantly, at what you saw before you.

Al-haitham hung against the door, drowsy, silver hair dishevelled, eyelids half closed, clothes wrinkled and... exposing parts he probably wasn't aware of, or by the lack of enthusiasm on his face, didn't care of.

"...Haitham" your meek voice finished your greeting that had partially died on your tongue.

He sniffed casually as his eyes opened more, revealing those oddly coloured pupils you could fall for again, and again, as he clocked it was you, his demeanour relaxing instantly he lazily turned and began to walk away from the door he now left open.

"Y/N, what brings you here." He asked in a monotone voice, though it didn't sound like a question, more so a statement.

You took it upon yourself to warily step inside his darkened home, closing the door gently behind you. Glancing around, you softly sighed. You'd feared this outcome. He'd been dumped, hadn't he? It's the only reasonable excuse as to why he's been absent, and now being here, seeing him so hopeless looking. Kaveh would've greeted you by now, but as you expected, the blonde never revealed himself.

"You've uh, been absent for some time, I grew worried is all Al." You continued to glance about realising; Kaveh's paintings and various other decorations were gone. Almost all that was him had disappeared without a trace. Your heart ached, not just for Al-haitham but also yourself, for you'd began to grow a bond with him too, seeing him as a dear friend.

"How thoughtful." He merely spat out, laced with nothing but sarcasm, his mood was sour, and it filled the place with tension. He slumped down on the stool in his kitchen that faced his island in the middle, resting his chin boredly in his palm, which was propped up by his elbow on the hard surface. His eyes darting to you and then to your hand.

"For me?" He questioned properly this time, albeit in a muttered tone, making you draw your attention back to him. Seeing his eyes on the dandelion wine case in your hand, you blushed softly at your forgetfulness.

"O-oh yes! Sorry, I thought maybe we could, uhm, I don't know, chat, I guess? And catch up." You hated how timid you sounded, but it was natural for you to be so around him at this point. He was intimidating even when he was not trying to be.

"Chat?" He mused lowly before huffing aloud, "Sure, haven't seen you in weeks. It would be nice to know how you've been, at least." He finished. You blushed harder at his confession, but he paid it no mind for his eyes were already off you and glancing ahead of him, at, nothingness, blankly.

You made your way around the kitchen island and placed the case down. You were nervous around him, sure, but once in is home, you found it second nature manoeuvring around and making yourself busy. Grabbing some glasses and pulling one of the bottles out, popping the cork off and steadily pouring the glasses out with the beverages. It just felt right and easy to go around his home and have it feel like it was part of you now.

Once filled you slid the glass across the surface to his open palmed hand, he gripped it and began to sip it instantly, it concerned you how fast he was consuming the liquid, but you'd just decided to keep a silent eye on him for now. Taking a small sip yourself, you tried to seem natural with the questions you had bubbling at the surface, wanting to ask them for minutes now; "So... Kaveh?"

"Gone." Short, curt. You expected that response.

"As in?" You replied.

"As in, not coming back." He finished.

You nodded to his words, swirling the glass in your hand as the other rest against the kitchen surface, before adding; "Am I allowed to know why?"

"Disagreement." Elusive again, he clearly didn't wanna talk about it, and you weren't in any position to press further either.

"I see..." You stated flatly, "I'm sorry." You felt obligated to say it, but his solemn look as he nodded slowly in appreciation to your care made you realise why it felt like an obligation in the beginning.

He held out the now empty glass, a silent request for a refill, so you did, placing the bottle back down once finished. He bought the glass back, but this time, he took a more tame sip before placing it down.

"How's work?" He suddenly questioned.

"Boring." You scoffed softly, to which he chuckled gently in response. It felt nice to hear him make that sound, even if it was only briefly.

"You meeting the deadlines?" He continued.

"Of course, I had you as my tutor for a year, remember?" You jested.

His brow furrowed as he sat up properly now to look you in the eye, "what you mean, had?"

The question caught you off guard because, in all honesty, you hadn't realised you'd used past tense. You looked up at him now, your eyes no longer transfixed on the coloured liquid swirling in your glass, gaze locked with his expectant look.

"I- well, uh, I just, people have been talking-"

"Saying what." He demanded.

"Well, that, uh, uhmm, well... that you've chucked the position of Scribe in, that you uh... aren't coming back to The Akademiya..." You finished shakily as if a student being interrogated by her teacher.

He let a sigh draw out his mouth slowly as he shook his head, eyes scanning up to the ceiling of his house as he muttered below exhausted breath; "Archons have mercy."

You stood there unsure what to say next as he just huffed out at nothing before feeling his gaze on you again, the weight felt instantly by you, your eyes shooting back to him to focus now.

"I'm just taking a small vacation Y/N, don't listen to them idiots when it comes to anything to do with me." He stated before taking another sip of his drink.

You nodded, affirming your understanding to his words as you chuckled; "I had a feeling you wouldn't quit your job over a break up anyway." You let out a soft laugh as you took a large sip of your own drink in hand.

His eyes nearly popped from his head at your words, however, as he set his glass down and stood from his stool now; "a what? I'm sorry? Did you say breakup?" The disbelief in his tone had you taken aback again, your tongue really was running loose right now wasn't it? You had a right mind to cut it out.

"I- I," you stuttered, unsure where to take the sentence formulating in your mouth now.

"Y/N... did you think me and Kaveh were..." he looked at you, brow quirked up in utter disbelief still.

You placed your glass down and sheepishly nodded your head as you scratched the back of your neck awkwardly.

You expected him to shout, to yell, but instead, he let out a boisterous laugh, guttural too. It rose from the truthfully deepest parts of his chest. You couldn't help but chuckle slightly yourself, seeing him laugh so giddily, it was contagious.

The tears swelled in his eyes and threatened to spill as he laughed so hard from your assumption before finally wiping his eyes and sighing aloud, coming down from his high.

"Y/N!" He said loudly but not in an angry way more of 'I can't believe you' joking kinda way, "I'm not gay?! What on earth gave you that idea?" He snickered again, his lips curving up into a wide smile. You opened your mouth but quickly shut it, wanting to save grace and not make yourself more of a fool.

"I- well, I don't know! Maybe the fact you had a man living in your home in secrecy for one! Sheesh, you can't blame me for thinking you two were an item. You bickered like an old married couple every time I came around to visit archons sake!" You lifted your hands in a gesture akin to 'help me out here'.

However, his smile faded when the realisation of the fact Kaveh had come back into play hit him, and you mentally yelled at yourself again for ruining the mood.

"I'm sor-" you instinctively went to apologise as the sad face he now had hurt your heart so desperately, but he waved his hand, dismissing your words.

"No, it's alright, don't be sorry, it's funny you assumed we were together, but no, we are just g- we were just good friends." He smiled at you as if to be reassuring to him saying he's alright, but the look of brokenness didn't help him in that effort. "We hadn't seen eye to eye for a while, and it was only a matter of time before, well, this," his hand gestured to the lack of Kaveh's decorations and designs, and presence "finally happened." He sighed, reaching for his glass again and taking another large swig.

You remained silent for what could you possibly say right now that would be of any comfort? He'd lost a once dear friend, and you'd now realised you'd lost a blossoming friendship too, and it stung you bad, so you could only imagine how much it hurt for him. The way he downed his drink made you happy you'd bought it in the first place, though you wasn't one to agree with drowning sorrows with alcohol. It helped every now and then, at least.

You stretched out, allowing a loud huff to leave yourself and effectively kill the silence that had begun to drown the room in tension; "Come, no more sad talk, let's take the drinks to the sofa and have some catch up time, I've missed my drinking buddy." You smiled warmly, and he simply smiled and nodded back.

The night quickly went by with you both talking about work, discoveries you'd made, ideas he'd been sitting on, interests and further hobbies you'd both decided to reveal to one another, reminiscing on past funny moments when working together, joint dislike towards certain colleagues and disagreeing with many of The Akademiya's methods in pursuit of knowledge.

It was moments like this that made your heart swell harder and reminded you why you'd begun to fall for him in the first place. You both clicked together over every little detail. You either complimented each other perfectly with your agreements on matters or delicately accentuated your differences in debates on others. Either way, you were both puzzle pieces that perfectly placed together in any jigsaw.

From both yours and his humour to your hobbies and interests, it didn't matter. You just enjoyed the company of each other over everything, you were comforted in his presence, and he was comforted in yours. There was no need for further questions or desperate attempts to create conversational topics, they fell from you both so naturally, and even more so once the alcohol had finally began to take root in your mind and his.

Cut to fifty-seven minutes later, and you're both closer with one another than how you'd oringally started out tonight, figuratively and literally. The jokes becoming more daring with underlining tones you couldn't quite take as anything more than flirtatious banter right now, and your tongue becoming even more looser than before.

You couldn't stop laughing, not with how Al-haithams drunken impersonation of one of your more annoying work colleagues was so spot on! Right down to the way he always flicks his hair as if he's a famous scientist known world wide.

"Pffthahahaha!" Your tears fell from your eyes freely as you couldn't stop laughing. You'd broken into such a giggle fit it even caught Al-haitham in the midst of it beginning to wheeze himself, you both sat on his sofa, the light basking you in a relaxing glow as the nightsky had claimed territory above Teyvat outside now.

You tapped his knee gently pleading for a time-out to catch your breath, though he'd stopped impersonating a full minute ago now and so you both were just clutching your stomachs and wheezing like two utter mad men as the alcohol sent a pleasant buzz down your spine.

Once the laughing had finally begun to die down, you found yourself just staring at him, your head cocked to the side and resting in your palm as it pressed against the back of the sofa. He breathed in deeply to regain some slight composure before looking at you, cocking his head playfully at you now.

A small smile crept onto your lips uncontrollably, and your words fell effortlessly from you; "you're just a big goof ya know that?"

He gasped mockingly as he turned to place his glass down on the small coffee table stowed away at the side of his sofas' arm rest. Turning his attention back to you, "so rude Y/N."

You giggled, rolling your eyes, your other hand loosely holding the glass at a slight angle, the wine inside close to spilling out if you were to tip it anymore so; "No, honestly, I use to be so afraid of you, worried I'd make you unhappy with my work, or you'd not even bother to grace me with your attention ever. You came off so cold and distant..."

He began to nudge himself closer to you, subconsciously maybe, but you weren't finding it anywhere in yourself to complain right now.

"That so?" He drawled out in a smile, "makes sense, I suppose, I do tend to keep everyone at arms length. Can't trust people that well from The Akademiya, even so-called colleagues." He finished slowly. His eyes locked with yours, "Why'd you stick around if I was so unwelcoming?" He questioned.

You shrugged as you broke the joint gaze to bend round and place your own glass down now, feeling your mind become ever so slightly dizzy you had little foresight left, which gave you the reasonable reaction of putting the glass out of harms way, turning back round you noticed Al-haitham had moved even closer now, and the proximity had began to make butterflies flutter in your stomach ever so slightly, but the alcohol made good distraction of said feelings.

His eyes searched yours for something. You were unsure of what, but they were definitely searching and searching deeply, too. Neither of you spoke now as your eyes were lost in one another, till he finally broke the silence; "I wanna kiss you." It was sudden, and so crystal clear you couldn't even pretend to have not heard it. Your cheeks burned as you suddenly felt hot and entirely trapped by him. Your throat ran dry all too quickly, and you swallowed down a lump that had begun to form; "i-... okay..." is all your drunken mind could respond with, for it seemed much easier to follow your hearts wants and desires now that you'd drowned yourself into intoxication.

He shuffled closer slowly, his eyes burning into yours before dropping to your lips, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip subconsciously, your mind was moving at a thousand miles a second right now, but the only thought that stuck out from all the rest was how unbelievably sexy he looked right now, as the redness dusted over his cheeks became more visible, and the slight huffs of his breath became more audible, as the air grew hotter and more tense as he drew in closer, his arm spreading over you to lock his fingers into the armrest beside you, effectively caging you in, his other hand cupping your cheek softly but firmly, angling your chin just right and then-

A relaxed sigh escaped your mouth only to be swallowed by his own as his lips pressed gently into yours, his tongue seeking permission to enter inside your mouth, to which you eagerly granted him, your eyes had closed instantly upon the feel of his lips meeting yours, and he slowly closed his eyes a few seconds after, the kiss now deepening as his tongue danced around yours and laid claim to your mouth with his dominance.

You felt your mind going light and fuzzy now, the kiss drifting you further into a dreamlike buzz. You so hopefully wished to never wake if it were just a dream all along. The breathing that exited both your noses were louder than usual as the intensity of the kiss grew more feverish, the wheeze of your lungs be pushed to their limit began to sting, and it must've been doing the same to the scholar above you as he then slowly, albeit it reluctantly, removed his lips from yours.

The string of saliva that connected both your lips snapped once he took a somewhat bated shaky inhale, his eyes never leaving yours once you'd finally reopened your eyes to catch your own breath. His thumb absentmindedly began to stroke sweet circles against your jawline and cheek, and you found yourself happily pressing further into his touches.

"How long?" He questioned, though his voice was more hoarse and rough now.

You looked into his eyes, knowing what he meant instantly, for you could see the same want spread across his face that you were also clearly painted with too.

"Several months now." You replied, honestly.

Still looking at you he began to manoeuvre you both softly, guiding you down, back pressed against the sofa chair, him now looming above you, the light that lay suspended in the air from his living room ceiling being blocked from directly shining in your eyes by Al-haithams towering figure above you now.

"Is your assumption of my relationship with Kaveh the reason I've been getting zero response from you with my advances?" He asked earnestly. His eyes make you feel naked with how intensely they stare at your every detail.

"I... I suppose so, yes." Your mind couldn't think straight anymore. You were in such a proactive position with the man you'd had a burning desire for months for now caging above you, alcohol having now also dammed your senses and sunken your defence, and he was interrogating you? When your mind clearly hungered for something else right now.

He chuckled softly as if it was all a big joke the world had been playing on him from the start. He lowered his face abruptly and placed warm, open-mouthed kissed against your neck and the juncture between where your neck and shoulder connect, eliciting a breathy moan from your numbing body.

"You nosy little minx," he began to gruff the words out through intakes of air between his onslaught of sensational wet kisses that marked all over your neck and shoulders, his hand gripping the top of your shirt to lazily pull it further down to reveal more skin for him to revel in. "That was my business, not yours," he nipped at a specific soft spot on your neck that made you hitch your breath under his magnifying pleasure. "Because of your sniffing around, you conjured up false accusations, and it cost me," you began to pant harder as his kisses grew more heated and possessive in their nature to mark up your skin and lay claim to you.

"Al-...mmhaahh- Al-haitham," your voice was soft, barely above a whisper as you shakily moaned his name out, a plea, a beg, you wasn't sure what, but your instincts could only give you strength to say that one word, however as he hungrily bit down on your neck you couldn't stifle the proper moan that slipped from your lips this time.

"Make more of those noises for me," he sounded drunk on his lust, and you were in the same ship as him, his lips and tongue were made by the devil, they had to of been, to elicit such sinful sounds from your very own mouth. His fingers clutched tightly on your shirts fabric. It was only a cheap, flimsy thing you'd thrown on in your haste to come see him today, "this, is in the way," he practically snarled the words out as a loud tearing sound echoed throughout the spacious living room, a blush burning at your cheeks now as you felt the temperature change, you hadn't worn a bra either-

"Temptress." He stated in a frenzied manner as he dipped his head down past your neck now, you cried out in sheer overwhelming pleasure as his hot mouth encased round your nipple, sucking on it fervently, his tongue flicking it around between the clasp of his teeth inside. Your hands slipped through silver locks, so silky to the touch, you giggled to yourself inside, as depressed as he was, he always made sure he was well pampered, such a pretty boy.

Your eyes closed as you got swallowed up to all the burning sensations that engulfed your body right now, his tongue, lips, teeth made sure to bite, kiss and suck any and all flesh that held his attention, while his hands left delicious squeezes and gropes all over your thighs, slipping underneath your arching behind to properly feel your rear too, he made sure to leave no part of you undiscovered by him.

"Tried so damn hard," he continued to growl hoarse and roughly as he bit against your fleshy mounds that were now glistening in slight sweat, "to make you realise my obvious want for you," he panted heavily as he began to shuffle about again, your body too weak and overwhelmed to resist anything he'd do to you now, but as you felt your legs being lifted and the feel of your pants being roughly pulled down you mewled in excitement as to what's to come.

Though your mind was hazy with the thick fog of arousal as the room slowly began to permeate with that smell of sex, your hands slid up his body, squeezing into his firm muscles on his arms, your mouth watering slightly as you took into consideration the sculptured frame of perfection that hungrily stripped you as if you were the marvel to behold here.

"Feeble Scholar, my a-ass." You breathed out to which he once having finally thrown your pants on the floor bent back down closer to your mouth to properly hear, "what was that?" He panted out his request, his face so flushed with his burning desire for you. "Yo... you can't blame me for having... doubts, how could I have ever expected to... engg... have a chance with you? You're so... perfect." You confessed your insecurity to the whole ordeal that had been burning at the back of your mind since the moment you began to pine after him, alcohol really was a dangerous thing you'd drunkenly realised.

He sat up, an almost flustered amusement painting his face as he lulled his head back, lazily running a hand through his silver hair, looking as if in thought, before sniffing in sharply through his nose and lowering his head back down to burn his gaze back into yours. You suddenly felt that naked feeling again, and it wasn't because you were in nothing but your dampening panties underneath him, no, it was that look he gave again, as he burned every detail of you into him, as if blinking would make you disappear so he wouldn't dare too.

"I won't be held responsible for this," he muttered out as you felt a tug at your waist and then heard another snapping sound. You gasped about to voice a complaint over one of your favourite panties now being ruined, but instead, you choked on your words and hiccuped a moan out instead. His long fingers deftly shoved into your now soaking entrance, two push inside which caused you to shudder hard under him and writhe around, his grip on your hip kept you in place however, bruises were sure to show tomorrow from his hold.

He began to scissor you open in an expertly way that left you speechless and mewling with delight, his thumb pressed against your clit and stimulated it simultaneously with quick and fast circular motions, your eyes beginning to water as your body wracked with pleasure as if small sparks of electrocution ran through your very veins, the heat pooling below rapidly now. "Heh, that's it, keep singing for me Y/N, keep," he began to spread his two fingers wider inside you, stretching you open deliciously past your normal limits, "making, those, faces." every word he gruffly barked out with that hot underlining tone of lust was accentuated with the spread of fingers lodged deep inside you.

You felt your climax barrelling into you so suddenly, the way your body tensed under him, your eyes rolling back as you cried out, the gush of your own slick and juices coating his fingers and hand, dribbling down to his wrist, he merely smirked as he watched you unravel beneath him, a gift for himself, so beautiful and alluring, he continued to scissor and thrust his fingers slowly inside you as you rode down from your incredible high.

He then leaned down beginning to pant harder, he sounded out of breath, much like how you sounded right now too, your face flushed red from cheeks to nose and ear tips, he wore the same expression, both of you intoxicated by far more than just alcohol. You had so many thoughts and words wishing to be voiced aloud but you found them dying on your tongue with every attempt, the sensations causing too many shudders and delectable thrums of ecstasy up your spine.

It wasn't long at all till his mouth was on yours again, another hot, sloppy make out between you both, tongues twirling with each other as air was squeezed from your lungs, teeth clattering in the transaction but it meant nothing to you, feeling him on you like this, devouring you, it felt good, so good, and so right, you submitted yourself wholly to him and he could sense it in the way your body relaxed and fell pliant beneath him as he continued to domineer the stinging hot kiss between you both, a muffled groan leaving his throat only to be swallowed hungrily by you in return.

"w-want you..." you whimpered softly while catching your breath.

"You're gonna have me." he concluded as he sat up and swiftly removed his tight emerald green vest that often left nothing to the imagination of his amazing physique.

You hesitantly lifted your hand up, the intrusive thoughts of wanting to explore every crevice of his skin, every ridged bump along his six pack down to the sharply carved V-line that disappeared beneath his unbelievably tight trousers. But your hand stilled, as if worried or more so, undeserving to feel such a beautiful being like him. He merely scoffed incredulously to your hesitancy, gripping your hand firmly and placing it flat against his abs, your cheeks flaring red as he guided your hand along those said tempting ridges and bumps, feeling the divine skin underneath you.

"We are past shyness of touch dear, stop looking at me with such hunger, and start actually acting on it," he chuckled in a far too sexy way above you as he knelt between your legs that were now hung either side his own legs. His hair a cute mess, his lips wet from your constant need to suck the air from one another, his eyes glossy and coated over with soul damning lust.

You let your hand continue to explore his abs before slowly sliding up and over his pecs, across his toned chest, he truly was stunning, so well built, he lies when he says he doesn't work out, no one gets a shape this godly without putting effort in, but you would reprimand him for lying later, now is worship time, your other hand began to join you in its neediness to explore him and he chuckled airy like toward you, his brow raising in amusement making him look like a smug god before you, "You really like what you see huh?"

You scoffed with the first sign of confidence you'd had since this whole crumbled down fiasco transpired, "Wouldn't you if you was faced with such an unremarkably sexy person?" you quipped back, he then swiftly gripped your hands and bought them to his lips, soft gentle kisses pressing into them as his eyes locked with yours once again, a smile pressing into your hand from his lips as the hot breath fanned against them as he spoke, "I am." is all he rebutted back at you before guiding your hands up and above your head, locking them together with one of his own, his strong fingers clasping round your wrists.

You blushed hard at his compliment, suddenly he has such a way with words, so suave and smooth out of nowhere, you were use to the cold distancing from before, and then the goofy and sarcastic man after, but this new side of him was just as welcome as all the ones you'd seen before, any side of him you would accept as part of him, just as you knew any side of you yet to be revealed would be seen no differently by him.

You blinked the tears away that swelled in your eyes from the overwhelming insanity of all that was taking place currently, sniffing softly as you tried to regain composure, the buzz of the dandelion wine and the heady scent of sex clouding your judgement so easily, your focus was redirected down south sharply however, when you heard the sound of his zipper ringing out, your throat suddenly felt too dry as you swallowed in anticipation.

You didn't even notice the cocky smirk on his lips as he watched your shining eyes focus solely on his fingers under his trousers away from your prying sight, he couldn't deny the desperation frothing inside him to feel your walls clenching around him however, so in one swift movement he pulled the front of his trousers down and with it the spring of his nearing eight inch cock bounced out in all its well trimmed glory.

Your eyes bulged wide at the sight, Archons he was massive! ...was, ...was he gonna be able to fit inside you? Suddenly you wasn't so sure as you looked at the pretty shaped pink head weeping plentiful of its precum, the thick girth and more than generous length, so heavy it was that even with how hard he was to the thought of taking you, the blood pumping down south couldn't properly lift the darn thing, it stood straight out and drooped ever so slightly.

"Holy fuck Al, you're ma-massive." You choked your words out with little care of modesty, you were worried and impressed, and you wasn't gonna deny it to him. He laughed, properly, full of warmth and genuine amusement, it gave you that giddy feeling again to see his sweet smile with no filters. "Relax Y/N, if you don't think you're up to it-" he was being polite, you knew that, but the look in his eyes was obvious, and you also knew he didn't mean it, he wanted you, bad, and you're anything but a liar, your mind could hardly even catch up to your current thoughts as you blurted out shamelessly, "No, fuck me-"

He squeezed your wrists in his grip tighter, to the point that you'd almost forgotten he still had them caged above your head, his eyes simmering into a darker shade as his lust consumed him, his expression looking ravenous and hungry now, "Thank fuck you didn't say no, I need you, so fucking bad," he snarled the words out beside your ear to which you mewled at as you felt his thickness now rubbing against your slick covered walls, your hole clenching around nothing in desperation to feel full.

Just as his head began to prod and poke at your entrance, sending tiny shivers rippling all over your muscles, for some reason, completely lost to you, your mind thought about the condition of his clearly expensive furniture. "W-wait! Your s-sofa..." your voice was so unsteady now, words became harder and harder to force out, you just wanted to make animalistic sounds of pleasure, pleasure he kept sinking you further into. He shook his head as his hand released over yours and placed firmly beside your head, the other now on the other side too, caged beneath him once more, just how you'd grown to like it apparently. Your hands reflexively shooting out as your hands dug into his muscular arms, flexing beneath your squeezing fingers, you squeezed tightly, trying to ground yourself to him, to anything, just, to feel as if you wasn't drowning, but oh, you were.

"May come as, a haaah... surprise to you, Y/N," his voice strained as he began to push his thick girth deeper, and deeper inside you, spearing your insides and stretching you unfathomably around him, your juices spurting out in unbelievable amounts, coating his cock in a shiny layer of slick as it continued to bury deeper inside you, your voice gone entirely now, replaced with heavy pants, whines and mewls, your brain frying all that's coherent. "But I don't give, a shit, about my sofa, ahhh f-fuck meeeerrngh, right now." he snapped his hips forward suddenly to finish bottoming out inside you fully, your stomach looking slightly bulged to his sex driven mind, but he could just be high on endorphins right now.

Upon feeling his tip press and kiss against your cervix it forced a combined moan from the pair of you, you'd never felt so fucking full, you'd only had sex a handful of times, but you didn't need to be a slut to realise no cock would ever have this man beat, he remained still, his thick veined cock lodged deep inside your spasming and tight walls, his eyes fluttering shut as he sucked a breath in harshly trying to steady his control, "fucking...hell Y-Y/N, you're so bloody tight mmnph.." you panted heavily, your tongue lulling out as you did, he couldn't help but to lean down and kiss you with a searing hot passion, your fucked out expression did something wild to him and if he had any less self restrain you'd be fifty-shades fucked out your fucking mind right now.

Your tongues danced with each other in nothing but a messy exchange of saliva, muffled moans and whines at his testing little thrusts, short and slow, but he was so deep that he was already making you see stars, you pulled away to breath once again, your lips shiny from your messy and continuous make out sessions, "well sorry, but did i-it ever occur to you, you're too f-fucking deep," you hissed as he suddenly rolled his hips into you causing him to rub and press against several of your sweet spots, your shuddering and spasming causing him to shudder as well, both of you cursing to high Celestia and back in unison as he then breathily chuckled against your ear, "nah, you can take more feisty thing," he mused.

Before you could question what he meant though he began to thrust fully into you now, slow but continuous and deep, your eyes squeezed shut as you began to moan loudly with wild abandon, he had no neighbours anyway so what'd you care? "S-see? taking me so well, good girl, haah." his voice was deep, strained, rough and hoarse, everything and all things that make him sexy to you at any given time, he was all in one at this exact moment, and his praising made your mind go fluffy and flash white behind your eyes, he realised it instantly with the way he almost came from your sudden squeezing and sucking from your ever so tight fluttering walls.

"ahh, fuuucckk, you like that baby? mmh?" he tilted his head as he sat up, his hips flushed against yours still, but now knelt between you sitting up he could probably admire the picturesque form you currently were in, sinfully gorgeous with how thoroughly fucked out your face was, your eyes half open, filled with lust and want, your cheeks red, your skin glistening with more sweat, panting and mewling, you were utterly divine to him right now, he laid his hand flat against your stomach slowly, pressing the bulge that he could certainly conclude was actually there now.

The way he pressed down on your stomach made you stutter out a sobbed moan, he was making you feel more full if that were even possible, he pressed against his own cock that was wedged so deeply inside you now, "mmh, I never did realise, just how... small you were, fuck, compared to me Y/N." he bit his lip harshly and you somehow found the energy to chuckle, though you were becoming rapidly more lightheaded, "telling me you have a size kink now, h-huh?" he smirked at your jab as he rolled his hips roughly against you again, causing your eyes to roll back and let out a wanton moan, "what was that, my little good girl." You mewled in response to the praise, the pet name if you will, your walls fluttering vigorously around his length again causing him to bite his lip once more to remain composed before beginning to trust at a steady pace now.

You couldn't believe you both were just idly revealing kinks while he was actively impaling you. But like you'd come to accept, opening up to him really was easier than breathing at this point. And breathing was suddenly becoming harder for you too, with how he continued to spread you open, rearrange your organs and insides to mould into the perfect sleeve for his cock, and his cock alone, he was burning his girth, his length, him, inside you fully, and you knew you weren't gonna forget the feelings he gave to you, and you didn't want too.

Your eyes had closed what, ten minutes ago, twenty? …forty? You really wasn't sure, but his pace hadn't let up, the battering of your poor insides was starting to ache you, you'd already came again and he'd just thrusted you through it into utter overstimulation, his lips trailing your neck, your shoulders, nibbling your ear, marking your chest, overstimulation was clearly another one of kinks, but with the way your tears spilled so gratefully and the delicious burn of your battered inside built you quickly to another encroaching climax, maybe... you were also into over stimulation, hmm.

"Fuck... Y/N, sorry but, I'm close..." if you were able to form anything of coherent audibility right now you would tell him to shut the fuck up with the whole 'sorry' sorry for what? Idiot. If he thought he was under performing right now... he needed a serious talking to, but as you felt his cock begin to twitch wildly so deep inside and the way he showed no signs of slowing down or pulling out, you started to realise why he may have said sorry...

"w-ahh wait, wa-wait, Al...mmhp, Al, you aren't s-seriously going to, to..." he shook his head as he pressed himself down onto you, his chest pressing against yours, your breasts rubbing against his chest as his hand flatly laid over your mouth, so big it was his fingers had to part to let your nose have an airway to breath through as your eyes widened to your sudden forced silence, "shhh, be a good girl, take it, take it all Y/N, Mmph...," he rolled his hips before beginning to rut into you, his hand sliding between your bodies and hurriedly swirling circled motions against your swollen clit and with that your eyes rolled back as he sent you over into another blissed out orgasm that flashed your sights white and your hearing just ringing out.

"Ahh fuuuck, yes, just like that baby, just like that, keep cumming on my cock you slut." you couldn't say anything, even your moans were muffled into near silence, your harsh breaths through your nose as your head went fuzzy and utterly fried from overstimulation now to the point of being fucked dumb, your nails scratching down his back leaving marks, eliciting a sharp hiss and growl from Al-Haitham as he continued to rut hard into you, "f-fuck, I'm cumming baby, I'm cumming, take it, take it a-all, arrghhh!" his head lulled back as he groaned out and then you felt it, spurt after spurt of hot thick ropes of his cum painting and smearing your insides, filling you to the brim, the squelching of your ridiculously soaked and battered entrance around his throbbing and twitching cock, hungrily your insides sucked and milked his balls dry till his shallowed thrusts into you and the twitching of his cock had nothing left to give.

He dropped down onto you, careful not to fully crush you under his weight, both of you panting heavily as he slid his hand from your over your mouth up into your hair, softly petting your scalp, the affectionate gesture made a warm swelling feeling inside you, that or you know, the bucket load of his cum and cock still deeply buried inside you. It was only once the haziness began to leave and you were left post thoughts after sex that you began to chuckle before breaking into a fit of laughter, his eyes had closed from exhaustion, but opened slowly to your laughing fit, chuckling himself and lifting his head softly before the contagious laughter caught him too, causing him to break out laughing as well while dropping his forehead against yours, both of your eyes watering with joy filled tears and overwhelming emotions.

Once the laugher died down and you were both now just sniffling with slight chuckles his eyes sunk downward then back up into yours, "Darn, the sofa's ruined now." he snorted to which you giggled at childishly, then the silence took over fully and you both lay together, eyes locked on one another once again, "I like you too Y/N." He boyishly smiled at you to which you rolled your eyes before a smile couldn't help but form too, "I would hope so" you returned.

After your pillow talk to one another you both got up and cleaned the mess up as best you could, he offered you first shower to clean yourself but you decided it was easier to just shower and clean together, you both continued to chat and joke, somewhat naughtily in your washing up time, but managed to come out of it actually clean. You didn't further discuss his prior feelings toward his ex-friend, it was his business not yours after all, though it saddened you to think you may never see Kaveh again, people come and go unfortunately, and in all honesty, no one knows what the future holds do they? Optimism is best suited in these saddening times to keep one going, and you wanted him to remain positive, you wanted to help relieve some of his sorrow and tension and you felt the mood had finally lifted and unbelievable progress had been made, the man you'd been crushing so hard for, reciprocated your feelings fully and it left you warm and fuzzy whenever you thought about it.

You stayed the night, to which more less than innocent things took place in his bedroom with you, no surprise there, he had amazing stamina and recovery time you'd thoroughly figured out during this endeavour. But the next morning you ate breakfast with him and continued to bask in the comfort of just being around him, to which he fully and equally returned the mutuality of. But alas, you did have work back at The Akademiya, so with a chaste farewell kiss you bid him goodbye till the next time you had time to come see him, assuming he still wasn't ready to come back just yet, which you were fine with, at least you had closure to his absence and could tell your colleagues to shut up with their bickering and rumour spreading.

The sun was rising bright above Teyvat as you were inside Al-Haithams office giving it a quick clean over, it was growing dusty from the lack of attention it had received for weeks now, it had been a couple days since you and him, took the next step in both of yours relationship, so to speak, and you couldn't help but already be missing him, did it make you petty? Probably, but at least you felt somewhat closer to him in here, in his office, and the excuse of spring cleaning kept everyone's suspicions at bay.

"Missing me so much already are we?" His voice came from behind you suddenly, causing you to jump near out your skin, whipping round fast eyes wide before resting your hand on your chest calming your nerves, "Archons Al, don't sneak up on me like that."

He quirked his brow as he set down some various documents and paperwork onto his desk turning to you, "Me? You're the one skulking about my office stalker." he squinted his eyes in challenge but you knew better than to raise to it, "Am not." or so you thought.

He smiled as he glanced around realising you had been cleaning his office during his absence, "Thank you though, honestly, for taking care of things while I was too busy moping." He turned back to his papers beginning to organise them in order of projects in dire need of attention on top, with the less urgent ones beneath.

"Well, everyone needs their time and space Al, even the amazing Scribe." you smiled warmly as you finished the left over areas that needed cleaning, gasping softly when you felt hands suddenly squeeze your hips and spin you back around, your hands dropping the cloth as they rested quickly atop his broad and firm shoulders, meeting met face to face with Al who stared down at you, your cheeks flushed red, you were in public was he mad?!

"Al?! Not here you mad man!" You whisper yelled to him trying your best to have a serious and scolding expression but he merely chuckled an kissed the tip of your nose lovingly, "Whatever happens between us in this office, is of no concern to others." he flatly stated as he began to trail kisses down your neck, your core beginning to pool with heated arousal and neediness for the man against you, a sigh of content seeping from your lips as your eyes fluttered softly, "What do you plan to do to me in here AL..." your voice was soft and laced with nerving excitement and anticipation.

He lifted his head to let his eyes capture yours once more, his breath hot against your lips as he whispered seductively, "That's my business, not yours."

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