#but fiddling around to make something simple like this soothes me after the week so :)

[comet-forgot-you]

need some vampire amber freeman x human reader smut

ily for this omg

teeth

vampire!amber freeman x human!reader

summary: your girlfriend is gone for a week and d shows up with what you think is a shitty excuse.

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, fingering, oral, biting, blood sucking, needy top!amber, i think thats all.

a/n: what if i said i love twilight, what then. idk this is kinda silly at beginning and end but it gets the tiniest bit intense. do not repost for any reason.

amber had been gone for over a week without reaching out to you for an explanation. a week of you checking her location, spamming her phone, calling nonstop. it wasn’t like her, she could barely go an hour without talking to you let alone an entire week.

you wanted needed her to say something, anything. whether it was over between the two of you, an explanation from her telling you why she had been gone for so long without an explanation, hell even a simple “hey” would do, you just missed her and needed her to say something.

you spent your nights on the couch, attempting to drown out your racing thoughts with the sound of the tv. even that barely managed to soothe the nonstop thoughts of amber’s whereabouts or whatever reasoning your brain could possibly think of to explain her absence.

a knock interrupted your thoughts, you glance away from the tv. whoever it was would have to come back tomorrow. it was late and you had no interest in opening that door. a minute passes before more frantic knocks come from the door. you groan, pulling yourself from the couch and follow the sounds of insistent knocking on the door. you look through the peep hole and relief floods your body.

amber

its amber.

holy shit its amber.

you make quick work of unlocking the door, allowing yourself to be face to face with the girl. her jaw clenches the second you open it. she’s beautiful, skin clear of any blemishes it held before.

“what the fuck?” your mouth acts before your brain can stop it. amber’s eyes are darker than their usual color, eyes softening the moment the words leave your lips. “where the fuck have you been? you don’t text me, you don’t call me, you just disappear for a week, what the fuck?” your voice rises with every word and amber winces.

“baby, please. js’ lemme explain. can i come in?” you let out a huff of air, standing back to widen the door. amber stays still, eyes darting around the entrance of your home.

“you just gonna stand there? come in,” you say, raising your eyebrows at her random hesitation. she comes in, standing behind you as you shut and lock the door.

“sorry, just,” she lets out a huff of air, “nervous,” she finishes, fiddling with her hands. you turn to face her. shes so pretty and god did you miss her. you wrap your arms around her waist, resting your head on her shoulder. her body is tense underneath your arms. shes still, her arms make no move to wrap around you, shes just still. hell you’re not even sure she’s breathing.

“where the fuck have you been amber,” you say, pulling away from you.

“i didnt think it was real,” she mumbles, taking a step back. your eyebrows furrow. “thought they were joking and then they fucking did it and now..” she trails off, looking around the room for a brief moment.

“who did what? what was real?” you ask, her attention returns back to you.

“im a vampire.” you cant help the laugh that leaves your throat.

“yeah fucking right. you leave for a week with no reasoning and the best excuse you can come up with is that you’re a vampire? are you fucking kidding me? if you needed space, amber, you could’ve just said that, you didnt have to make an excuse up, a dumb one at that.” you shake your head, brushing past the dark haired girl. she’s quick to follow after you.

“im not joking. i know it sounds stupid, i just, i don’t fucking know. i just wanted to go to that stupid concert with tara and a few of her other friends and then someone did something, i don’t even know what happened, all i remember was waking up in the worst pain i’ve ever felt in my life and a thirst that water wasnt helping in the slightest,” the words fall from her lips at a speed you didnt know she could possess. her shoulders were stiff as she paced your living room.

“so, what, you went out and bit someone and said ‘hey, that was pretty good, i think ill do it again.”? do you even hear yourself?” you huff, leaning back into your couch.

“i know it sounds stupid, but its true,” she looks around the room, searching for some way to prove it to you. she takes a seat next to you, “watch,” she opens her mouth, canines growing sharper and longer in seconds and your eyes widen. your fingers move to poke at the sharp ends, a slight hiss coming from your lips the second it pricks your fingers, the smallest drop of blood forming on your finger. amber’s quick to pull your hand away, snapping her mouth shut. her fingers are freezing against your wrist. she takes a deep breath in, eyes closed. “y/n, im sorry, but it, you smell so fucking good,” she mutters, jaw clenching.

“what, a little drop of blood gets you thirsty?” you tease, the droplet of blood falls down your finger. amber’s gaze flickers to you, your eyebrow raises slightly. you shake your hand from her hold and hold her jaw with your opposite hand. “open up,” you mumble. she does exactly that, her jaw falling slack in your hand. you press your bloodied finger against her tongue and her mouth closes. she wastes no time sucking the blood off of your finger. a whine threatens to escape your throat at the sight. you squeeze her face between your hand and she opens her mouth again. you pull your finger from her lips, a whine escaping her throat in the process.

“y/n..” she whimpers, pushing herself closer to your body. “taste s’ good.” she presses her lips against your neck, your heart beating so loudly in your chest, you’re certain she can hear it. she pushes you back, settling between your thighs as she litters purplish marks across your skin.

cold hands meet the warm skin of your stomach and you gasp at the chill, arching your back off of the cushions. “you’re hands are so fucking cold,” you hiss, hands flying to tangle in her hair. she hums against your neck, sharp teeth scraping the skin. she presses a thigh against your clothed core, your hips buck into it.

“wanna taste you, baby, please?” you nod frantically and she rips your shirt open, leaving your chest exposed. the sight of her ripping your shirt open had you grinding yourself down on her thigh. amber was never that strong, that needy for you. it sent heat plummeting to the pit of your stomach.

she circles your erect nipples with her tongue, hands moving to remove your pants. “sh-shit amber. so fuckin.. shit.. so fuckin needy.” breathy moans break your words apart, “please.” she pulls back for a split second before shes back on you, both of your pants long gone in that tiny amount of time. “holy shit,” you mumble, arching into her cool thigh. her actions are quick against your body, her mouth on your needy cunt in minutes.

you whine the second her tongue meets your pulsing clit. a cold finger sinks into your greedy hole, a strewn out moan falling from your lips. you two had experimented with ice, but this was a million times better than previous experiences ever were.

she curls her finger in your cunt, tongue circling your clit at a faster pace than shes ever had. she was a lot quicker, and she used it to her advantage. “taste so fucking good,” she moans into your cunt, the added vibration sending a new wave of wetness to soak her finger. she pushes another finger into your soaking cunt, curling and scissoring them into you at an inhumane pace.

“fuuck,” you moan out, arching off of the cushions. it was so much, the way her fingers were fucking into you like she needed your orgasm in order for her to survive had your head spinning. sharp teeth poke your clit and your hips still, the feelings new, and so fucking exciting. her tongue is back on your clit just as fast as it left. your orgasm is fast approaching, heart besting erratically.

“gonna cum, baby? can hear your heart beating s’ fast. its okay, you can cum, want you to cum so bad,” her fingers curl into your cunt perfectly and youre coming against her faster than you ever had, juices coating her cold fingers. she pulls them out, lapping it up quickly with her tongue. she groans at the taste, vibrations causing your body to jerk against her tongue.

she presses kisses against your thighs, teeth scraping against the fat of them. you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching as she does her best to keep herself from sinking her teeth into your skin.

“you.. you can bite, ambs,” you mutter. amber looks up at you, rubbing at the skin of your thighs.

“what if it hurts you? i don’t want to hurt you,” her voice is full of emotion, yet so needy. “what if i can’t stop?” the question lingers in the air. what if she cant stop? what if it kills you? its a risk you’re willing to take.

“i trust you.” the words are all it takes for amber to sink her fangs into your thigh. the area burns, your head spinning as she drains blood from your body. a whimper leaves her throat, heat flooding through both of your bodies. it hurts, but at the same time feels so fucking good. your hips buck off of the couch for a split second.

you feel almost light headed, you were losing blood fast. you nudge amber with your other thigh but the girl hardly budges. she glances up at you, eyes dark.

“amber,” you can barely get her name out. she looks almost apologetic. “amber, baby, please,” it seems to pull her from her trance like state. she unlatches herself from your thigh, lapping up the blood that drips out afterward.

“sorry, im sorry, im so sorry,” she mumbles, reaching out to hold your hand. “taste s’ good.” she trails kisses up your body, quiet “im sorrys” falling from her lips after every kiss.

“its okay,” your voice is quiet, eyes tired. she presses a kiss to your lips. “felt kinda good,” you say against her lips. she smiles, pulling away to press kisses around your face. “wait does this mean i cant have garlic anymore?” amber rolls her eyes, smacking your shoulder lightly.

“you can still have garlic you idiot.”

#mikey madison #mikey madison x reader #wlw smut #amber freeman smut #amber freeman #i want amber #amber freeman x reader #amber #scream 2022 #scream smut #scream movie #scream #scream franchise #amber freeman is the loml

[intangibly-here]

it’s a fact (that i want you in my life)

various (diluc, kaeya, xiao, zhongli)

- scenarios; 6.8k words - gn!reader - fluff & angst - hurt/comfort - warning: description of injuries/blood, mild cursing

————————————————————

is it really so hard to be understood?

[argument & reconciliation scenarios]

title from mckay, jeff bernat - angel 2 me.

requested by @nanana-kashi

————————————————————

❥ diluc

it’s a chilly evening, as always. 

you trod down the dusty path, steps kicking up clouds of dirt and sending pebbles skidding as you walk. the dim glow of street lamps illuminate the edges of your figure, passing under them on your stroll returning home. you take carefully measured steps past the countless rows of grapevines, past the stone walls of the building’s perimeter, and arrive at the polished front doors. 

the dawn winery is quiet in the evening, only the chirping of crickets filling the silence, whereas servants would fill the air with talk and work during the day. fishing out a key from your pocket, you unlock the door with a click. 

all that meets you when you enter is more silence. empty again.

diluc has always been a busy man. he’s a hard worker, as are all of the people that surround the two of you are, and he carries the heavy weight of an entire legacy on his shoulders. recently, however, he’s been especially illusive, managing the angel’s share during waking hours and working undercover as the “darknight hero” so to speak throughout the evenings. 

while it’s not out of the ordinary for diluc to work nights on end, it is unusual that you haven’t caught a glimpse of him at all, between visiting the angel’s share during his usual shift or roaming the paved streets of mondstadt. even asking charles himself remained fruitless. 

“my sincerest apologies, but i haven’t seen him. i’d thought he was with you.”

it’s even more unusual that he hadn’t told you a word of what he’s been up to. were you that untrustworthy?

you close the door with a resigned sigh, removing the bow that’s been strapped to your back and resting it against the wall across from the entrance. your pull your gloves off, the mahogany leather of it reminding you of ruby eyes and stiff clothing. they drop into a box rested on a nearby shelf. the unsettling silence closes in around you, and for a moment, you breathe in a strikingly painful loneliness. it fills your chest uncomfortably, like it’s carving out a hollow space in-between your ribs, gnawing at your heart. then, you breathe out, and the discomfort dissipates. no, he trusts you. you know you both do.

even so, something shifts wrong inside you without diluc here. 

you’re not sure how to feel about it.  

you minutely fiddle with your ring, cool silver pressed against warm skin, finger tracing the simple engravings carved into it with care. it’d been your request for something subtle, away from the flashiness of blinging jewels and rare stones. 

he’ll be back soon. 

you say this, turn the words over and over in your head just as you turn the ring on your finger, but you know better than that. you had truly believed it the first day, but then the first day bled into a second, a third day into a fourth, a fifth, sixth, seventh—

and now you stand here on the eighth day by the arching doors, inside the enormous mansion, cold and disappointed and alone. 

you shake your head, chastising yourself internally. it’s no use worrying yourself down over it. dropping the rest of your belongings in a pile by the foot of the bed, you scratch the back of your head and turn to the bathroom. best to run yourself a shower and get to bed quickly. the whirring of crickets and fireflies keep you company ‘till the sound of splashing water erases the quiet. 

you’re toweling your hair off, foggy wisps of steam trailing behind you as you leave the bathroom, when you hear the resounding click of the front door. 

diluc?

leaving the towel hanging around your neck, you walk to the entrance room where the man you’ve been waiting for stands upright, glancing at you when you enter. it only lingers for a second, before darting back to his own hands.

“welcome home.”

“thanks.”

the clock ticks in the heavy silence. 

“not going to say anything?”

he lifts his head up to face you properly for the first time in a week, confused. fiery red hair shuffles with his movements, and he releases it from the confines of his hairtie. “what is there to say?”

you take a deep breath, shoulders rising, then falling again. you fiddle with your ring again. “we haven’t seen each other for days, and there’s nothing you want to say?”

“...” he purses his lips. 

“i’ve been looking for you.”

diluc looks away. “..i’ve been busy.”

your stare turns frostier by the second, the beginnings of a bonfire starting inside you. oh really now? just an ‘i’ve been busy’? “busy enough that you couldn’t spare even a second to let me know that you were doing okay?”

he bristles at your chilly tone, hackles rising, and body turning sharply away, apparently preoccupied with hanging his coat up. “i don’t need you to fret over me like— like this.” 

the words have you suddenly losing all your temper, leaving behind only the dredges of a deep-seated sorrow.

“am i not allowed to worry about my husband?”

his untold frustration seems to only grow at the dimming fire flickering out in your eyes, and his eyes narrow. still, he stays silent, a brooding look on his face. it wars with the thinning desperation you unconsciously let yourself show tonight. 

“ —even if you won’t tell me what you’re up to, why won’t you see me at all?”

the loosening hold on your emotions is gripped tight once more at the deafening silence not unalike how it were even without him. your face is drawn neutral once more, and you turn to make your way back to bed. 

“..alright, diluc. goodnight then.”

seems like tonight was a lost cause as well. you trail through the hallways, pausing before the door to the study. you enter against your better judgement, something pulling at you to not do this— but really, did you have to listen to that voice? something curls inside you, hurt and tired. that voice never helped with anything anyway. diluc’s still drifting, far, farther away from you and you’re still alone. 

(you know your emotions are getting the better of you, but you just can’t help it. how are you supposed to handle something you’d never dealt with before?)

standing before a relatively smaller bookcase, you reach up to pull out a book rather carelessly—

diluc opens the door, a regretful nervousness on his face and brow furrowed, to see the heavy wooden shelf tumble onto you. his eyes widen, and he lunges forward. 

thud.

- 

you blearily blink your eyes open a couple times to dim spots floating across your vision. two distinct voices murmur somewhere in the vicinity of the room. last you remember, you’d left diluc at the front door... and went to pick out a book for the study.. and oh.

so you’re recovering now, you’d assume. 

you trace the bandages on your head with sublime caution. the door clicks shut, bringing you out of your thoughts, and you tilt your head on the pillow. red. it’s diluc. he’s in his casual attire, plain white top and black slacks, but is still so stunning. maybe even more so than his regular clothing. 

diluc whips where he was staring at the door towards you, eyes wide and hand flying to his face. it’s flushed a brilliant crimson pink. 

oops. 

snapping out of his daze, diluc rushes to your side and kneels by the bedside. your mouth opens to protest his actions, then pauses, and closes again. it’s about time you receive an explanation. you two are past unnecessarily polite formalities. he grasps your hands in his calloused ones like a lifeline. 

“i’m so, so sorry, my love.” he stumbles over his words, almost like he’s choking them up from the bottom of his heart. maybe he is. “i didn’t want to get you caught up in the— the incompetence of the knights, and all the troubles that come with cleaning up after them.”

he glances away at the floor, gazing somewhere you can’t reach him. 

“...all it brings is sorrow.”

he takes a shaky breath, and his eyes glisten from underneath his mussed bangs. his hands tremble in yours, and your eyes soften. you run a hand through his hair in a silent gesture. continue when you’re ready. it’s alright. 

“a-and so i didn’t tell you, didn’t go to find you. there was a really— really unexpected gathering of abyss mages, and i didn’t want you to get involved. but you’re right— i shouldn’t need to hide it or avoid you because of it. i’m—” 

he chokes back a sob, wiping furiously at his eyes, and for a moment, it reminds you of how he was before everything happened. how bright he was. how open. but it’s of no importance any longer, and you brush the stray thoughts aside. mature or not, cheery or not, he is still diluc. he is still the man you love. 

“it’s okay, love. it’s okay.” you shush his sobbing gently, cupping his face in the palm of your hands. “i forgive you. i always will.”

you nudge him up from the floor and into downy bedsheets, nestling him in front of you. encircled in your embrace, diluc huddles closer to you, sniffling all the while. 

“when the bookcase fell on you, i was so scared. i— i thought you’d...” 

he trails off, face buried in the crook of your neck. you can feel him pressing his cheek into it, nuzzling closer. you lean your head against his in a comforting manner, i’m here love, and the heavy conversation peters into a soothing silence. you both move in tandem with your breathing, intertwined and floating in the newfound peace. 

“..’m love you...” 

but a whisper in the (welcomed, for once) silence, diluc drags out the mumbled syllables childishly, probably embarrassed from the entire ordeal. you press a warm kiss to the top of his head and smile for once, affectionately, softly, sweetly—  

“love you too, diluc.”

❥ kaeya

sometimes, just sometimes, the personality of kaeya alberich, mister cavalry captain of the knights of favonius, gets on your nerves.

kaeya is sly and sweet-talking, words sharp and lined with double meanings left and right. even at night, tucked into each other and settling into the quiet of drowsiness, teasing words will slip out of his lips and leave you either furiously blushing, firing back at him, or cracking up in full blown laughter— most of the time.

his joking manner is what drew you to him, the way he’s the spark in the room and how he brightens up your life with every passing moment.

it is also what is pushing you away now.

you know you’re being stupid. his joking and teasing is just one of the many parts of the man you fell in love with, inseparable and intertwined. it’s just kaeya being— well, kaeya. and it’s a wonderful part of him that you’d never want him to give up on.

the thought itself doesn’t exactly help when you’re spiraling into a pit of unwanted emotions.

lately, you’ve been heading home late, exhausted and worn out from putting everything into your job during the day. you hadn’t anticipated the rain to come down so hard and in turn didn’t bring an umbrella, resulting in absolutely waterlogged clothes and soggy shoes as you neared the pathway up to your home. today, you’d just like a little soft peace and quiet.

the thought stings like a sharp slap to the face when you open the door to kaeya’s unusually boisterous laughter (usually it’s less... annoying than this...), the room smelling thickly of wine. you can hear the clink of glass against glass from where you’re standing in the doorway.

whenever kaeya happens to consume alcohol, he becomes rowdier than ever; this incident is no exception. you shake your head and sigh. apparently kaeya is sober enough to notice you, because he looks over at you and grins in a telltale sign of mischief.

(not sober enough to recognize your breaking point it seems.)

“kept me waiting long enough, sweetheart! look at poor lil’ lonely me, sitting here with only this wine to keep me company.” he shakes the bottle in his hand, pouring another glass, taking another sip. “don’t you think i deserve a little something? maybe—”

the rest of his words are drowned out in the buzz of your mind, piling on your strained emotions. it’s so much. too much. (it’s unreasonable, you know you know you know, but you can’t stop, won’t stop, it won’t stop—)

does he not see you?

the words fly out of your mouth before you can reign in your haywire thoughts—

“would you just shut up? asshole...”

—anddd you didn’t mean to say that.

the rainwater drips from your clothes and pools onto the floor in a miserable puddle. the shocked look on his face and the thump of the wine botte falling to the floor says enough to send you turning on your heels back into the pouring rain. the door slams shut behind you almost achingly as you run wherever your feet will take you.

stupid stupid stupid! why did you say that! your head throbs in a mixture of hurt, guilt, and confusion. you stumble on rain-sodden ground and stray pebbles as your feet rapidly grow sore, unable to keep up with you anymore. 

your legs give up from under you, and you collapse to the ground, face buried in your hands. even if you were tired, you shouldn’t have just shouted at him like that — he didn’t even know what you were upset over! you didn’t tell him!

picking the pieces of your thoughts back together as the adrenaline wears off, you unsteadily rise to your feet once more, knees shaky and weak. it’s as you’re preparing the walk home from who knows where you ran to, you hear a loud grunt from the vicinity behind you. 

oh no.

just as you feared, when you turn around you’re greeted face-to-face by a shield-bearing mitachurl that’s likely strayed from its camp. its shadow looms in front of you, crawling forward as it slowly makes its way to you. you scramble for your sword, fingers digging at the buckles of your belt, then realize you had left it hanging on the sword rack at home. 

(kaeya...)

the stomping grows closer, like an ominous sign, and you curse under your breath. as much as you’d like to believe you can survive this relatively unharmed, your wobbling legs and unarmed hands say otherwise.

without another moment to spare, the mitachurl dashes forward, swinging its shield as if it were weightless. you put all your effort into dodging its sweeping blows, the embedded stones whistling by your face as you scan the area in another attempt to run—

as you turn your head, the mitachurl charges in from your blindspot, slamming straight into the side of your head. 

fuck. 

the impact sends you falling backwards in a tangle of uncoordinated limbs and stinging scratches. the throbbing at your temple doubles over, and when you tentatively reach up to touch it, you feel it’s sickeningly sticky. blood. a lot of it. 

black spots swim across your vision, and hazily, you think you hear a voice call your name in the distance. whatever it was, it’s soon drowned out by the sound of the creature stomping towards you impendingly. 

hallucinating already? you bark out a hysterical laugh in spite of it all, then hunch over in a fit of hacking coughs. red streaks across the dry grass. it burns. you rub at your throat. any further efforts would be futile. you know a hopeless situation when you see one— or in this case, are in one. 

thump.

another bruise blooms on your leg, and you wince. closing your eyes, your fuzzy conscious awaits its silence. there’s a swoosh, the raising of the mitachurl’s shield, and you brace your body for the impact—

“love, you— what— i—“

something, someone, lifts you up, up, up. and you’re drifting, carried in gentle arms and smooth fabric. the air grows heavier, the whistling of finely honed swordsmanship hanging in the wind, and the thundering steps draw to an abrupt stop. a familiar voice trickles into your ears, but your mind is sinking sinking...

(it trembles.)

on the edge of your sopor, just before you fall into its depths, you feel a clammy hand clutch yours. it’s warm. 

mind empty, the bone-deep exhaustion swallows you, vision fading to black. 

-

you awaken to soft white sheets and bandages looped round your arms. your muscles scream at you when you try to rise, flames of pain crawling up your torso and singing your nerves. a grimace paints itself across your face, and you slump back against the pillows. what had happened again...?

the lock clicks, door swinging open, and you turn your head to face it. kaeya steps in, a tray in hand as he closes the door with a twist of his hand. when he raises his head, his eye widens, and you can see the faint bags under it, red rimmed at the edge. you purse your lips, heart panging in your chest. 

neither of you speak when he shuffles to the bedside, setting the tray down on the nightstand and picking up a stray pillow that had fallen to the ground. it must’ve been when you’d just woken up; you hadn’t noticed. he tucks in back into its spot behind your back, propping it to help you sit a bit more upright. he doesn’t retrieve his hands from where they rest on top of yours. 

you start, “kaeya, i’m so—”

he doesn’t let you continue, pressing a finger to your lips. 

“sweetheart, i should be the one saying that.” he ruffles your hair endearingly, expression both relieved and pained at the same time. “i was drunk and just let you run out there—” he pauses. “i pushed it too far.”

you can feel the start of tears welling at the corners of your eyes, hands trembling and teeth wearing at your bottom lip. “...i still should’ve spoken up. you wouldn’t have known otherwise.”

he smiles warmly, genuinely, the cheerful glint in his eye sparkling at you through glossy eyes. “then next time, speak up, alright darling? we both can learn from this.” you nod, and he cups your face, thumbing the rims of your eyes and the side of your cheeks where rivulets of tears paint transparent rivers.

“may i kiss you?”

there’s a lot more to unpack to your actions, both your physical injuries and mending the worn strings of your minds, but for now—

you nod wordlessly once more and lean in, meeting him in a soft, sweet kiss. he wraps his arms around you in a familiar hug that you’ve sorely missed and pulls back, pressing more small, but equally as sweet kisses across your face. 

—for now, this is enough. 

❥ xiao

“you need to take better care of yourself!”

xiao rolls his eyes, crossing his arms in protest like a child. he sure is acting like one right now. why is it that he’s only like this when it comes to medicine? every time... you grimace at him, glaring threateningly and shaking the porcelain bottle in your hand. the round pills roll over each other, rattling in the container. 

“xiao...”

xiao just huffs and snarks back, turning his face away as if it’d do anything. 

“i’m doing fine. adepti don’t need medicine.”

it’s a weak argument, and he knows it. why is he fighting this so much? it’s just taking painkillers. no matter; it’s time to put in the finishing argument. 

“it’s from zhongli.”

the statement has him freezing in place, chewing his bottom lip nervously. of course it’s the mention of zhongli that has him finally seriously considering listening to you. petulant kid. can’t believe you’re really dating this thousand-year-old child. 

“i—”

he cuts himself off and goes silent for a beat, another argument on the tip of his tongue, but accepts the medicine in defeat anyway. you drop the little jar into his outstretched hand, and he pockets it in a flash. now if it were only that easy from the beginning...

“fine. but you have to stop nagging me so much.”

you can agree with that one. 

“alright, it’s a compromise.”

unconsciously, his mouth draws into a pout, and you chuckle, dipping down and kissing his cheek. his face shifts from awkward confusion to sudden realization, immediately stiffening up and stalking off in a mere shadow of his usual cool. 

if you spy the pink flushed tips of his ears and the prominent blush on his cheeks as he leaps off the balcony, you keep it to yourself. 

-

so much for taking care of yourself.

“and you were saying?” 

the door slides open, frame rattling as the illustrations of one panel swallows the other. xiao in all his midget glory strides in, footsteps careful as he closes the door behind him. a tray is balanced in one hand as he does it, somehow steadier than you’ve ever actually held a tray before. even with two hands. is this an adeptus thing too? expert, perfect, unbelievably infallible tray holding? you can tell from the expression on his face as he makes his way over that something’s tipping him off. he’s definitely grimacing, like he would when you said something unbearably stupid— in his terms of course. not yours. 

is he a mind reader too? wasn’t that only a rex lapis thing? like with the prayers?

“you look like shit.”

even worse than earlier goes unsaid. his face is typical frosty-xiao, but his brows are furrowed and disbelief shines in his eyes. guess it wasn’t your thoughts after all. but actually, did you really look that bad?

“yes, it’s that bad. now sit up so you can eat.”

whoops. 

holding yourself from making any snide comebacks, you move to touch your cheek as you sit up, a little shocked when it actually makes contact with the back of your hand; it feels as though your face was set in front of an open fireplace. a damp towel drops off your forehead, plopping on the blankets. it’s lukewarm. huh, didn’t notice that before. 

removing the used towel, xiao sets the tray down on your lap meticulously. now closer, you can see the plates of cold noodles and steaming bowls of jewelry soup sitting on the wooden tray. the smell is incredibly appetizing, as expected of smiley yanxiao, and you take care in preparing to eat the sumptuous meal. 

“aw, thanks xiao.” 

he turns his head away habitually, too shy to meet your eyes. you can, however, see his fingers subconsciously fiddling with the edge of his sleeve. the sun takes that moment to peek out of the clouds and through the window, outlining the contours of xiao’s face and soften his sharp features. it makes him look almost luminescent, like an angel descended from the skies, and you’re drowning in his being. he’s stunning. 

feeling your stare, xiao whips his head back around, narrowing his eyes and nearly growling. like a cat, your mind supplies. your cat. 

(and then you laugh at your thoughts, because xiao isn’t anyone’s. you just happen to be by his side for as long as wants you here.

and yours, him.)

“don’t stare,” he hisses, and then you can’t hold your laughter any longer, hacking out laughter at his defensive demeanor. “you- !”

he hastily picks up the pair of chopsticks on the tray, taking a mouthful of mushroom-topped noodles between them and stuffing it into your mouth. you immediately cease your chortling to chew, else you shove yourself into a choking fit. 

floating bits of dust fade in and out of the sunbeams falling on the floorboards, as if playing peekaboo with the air. the noodles are perfectly seasoned, mixed with just the right amount of sesame and savory sauce to not be bland, but not taste overpowering. they’re light and easy to swallow, and xiao hands you a cup of tea as you finish your bite; his fingers brush against yours, soft and warm. you sniffle. your runny nose hinders your senses, but you can still smell the faint scent of qingxin blossoms, and a relaxed smile makes it’s way to your face as you take a sip. 

this is nice.

❥ zhongli

you’d first seen morax in the midst of a fierce battle. 

jueyun karst was as empty as always, save for the presence of several adepti crouching in the shadows, more than the darkness would usually hide. then, as you sat high in the branches of one of the many golden trees in the valley, feet swinging over spikes of climbing amber protruding from the ground, you sensed a change in the atmosphere. the wind whistling through the treetops and over your head shifted sharply, soft gusts transforming into howling gales that had you falling backwards. 

cursing under your breath, you gripped the branch tightly, face scrunched in a grimace. by the time the turbulent winds had stopped, your hair blown astray in a hilarious mess and your back rebalanced against the trunk of the tree, a squirming, inky mass of something had appeared, hovering in the air just above the ground. it steadily grew in both physical size and energy, the air humming and pulsing with it’s indiscernible movements, until it towered at the height of the larger trees, far larger than any human could. 

you could feel the surrounding adepti grow increasingly concerned, their energy fluctuating wildly, but they showed no signs of movement. why? shouldn’t they be neutralizing this threat? your feet pick up their movement again from where they’d stilled during the storm, swinging back and forth. forwards. the lump of dark energy steps towards the harbor. backwards. another step. forwards. it pauses in its steps, unfurling its wings. back-

thump. 

so that would be why they hadn’t moved. almost as if heaving a sigh of relief, the chaotic energy of the adepti lurking nearby immediately deflate, retreating back into a neutral state. oh hoh, a big shot? when a gold-pattern embellished white robe emerges from a tear in empty space, you nearly topple over from your spot in the tree. bingo. 

the storm clouds in the sky poured as they fought, the sound of pattering raindrops both filling your ears and serving as a backdrop to the clashing of metal and vicious growls. as you watched him fight, the prime adeptus rex lapis, lithe form crossing blows with the distorted form of an abyssal beast, you knew from somewhere deep in your soul that something was bound to change. 

(it was when you were leaping down from the tree to leave, silently thanking him with a glance in his direction, that your gazes interlocked. morax made for an awfully odd sight when he had both a curious spark gleaming in his eyes and a dissolving corpse at his feet. and well, if it got even odder when he invited you to tea, that would be his problem, not yours— even if you had accepted the offer.) 

soon after, in the days following that first “meeting”, you’d seen zhongli (as he preferred to be called) in town, lingering indecisively around various stalls both big and small. noticing his dilemma, as a good friend (if you could be considered that; you’d only watched him slaughter a demonic monster and talked over tea once after all) you walked over and helped him out. 

multiple tea outings, three bags of mora and several weeks later, zhongli is looking into your eyes— and wow, this is really reminding you of your first meeting, where he was beating the shit out of that thing while you all just sat around and waited for him to be done and— he’s getting closer? please say this is going where you hope it’s going—

evidently you win this time, because zhongli moves forward and presses his (soft, soft, soft—) lips to yours in a breathtakingly warm kiss. 

he tastes faintly like the sweet syrup of the almond tofu you’d shared earlier, and the moment he draws his head back to allow you a breath, you pull him back in for another. 

-

your shoes step soundly against polished flooring as you enter the doorway of liuli pavilion, soft chatter drifting between the rhythmic click-clacking of your stride. the waitress greets you politely as you walk in, taking a glance at the clipboard she’s holding, then gesturing for you to follow her. 

“based on your attire and the time, you must be the one mister zhongli is waiting for, no?” 

to the assenting dip of your head she gives her own in return, leading you through the back doors and to a secluded table out in the open. settled by the railing overlooking the harbor is zhongli, pristine as always, sipping a steaming cup of tea. 

he doesn't notice you at first, attention trained on the book lain out on the table, but then you're sliding into your seat with a quiet thank you to the waitress, chair audibly scraping against the pavement, and he looks up. remarkably deep amber eyes meet yours, but then again, you’re not meeting a random passerby now, are you? 

(you’re not wooing just anyone.)

or at least, that’s what you’d thought. however, by the time he’s mentioned guizhong for the— what, 5th time tonight? you can’t say you’re completely unfazed. guizhong was his partner in war, best friend, closest companion; of course he would talk about her. it’s only natural now that you’re getting to know each other more. 

yeah. natural. 

you rest your head on the palm of your hand, leaning forward onto the table. the glass of wine in your other sloshes against its confines. your eyes follow it as the liquid tips and turns over itself, deep mahogany flowing into semi-opaque purples and vibrant reds. 

guizhong. she’s an inarguably important part of his very, very long past. you understand this— but really, did he have to talk about her regarding every single thing? it’s as if— as if you were just— just there. you’re missing something. there’s a label for this feeling, you know there is, but it’s only escaping your mind the more you think about it. just what is it...?

“the leaves of this tea have been harvested from wild glaze lilies themselves, then additionally infused with the purified essence of glaze lily blossoms. countless meticulous steps and tremendous efforts must have been taken to execute this brew as splendidly as it was. it is most definitely an exquisite tea befitting of guizhong’s legacy.”

zhongli pauses, then sighs wistfully, a reminiscent expression painted on his face. 

“an... unfortunate end she had. time never stops, neither for gods nor mortals alike.” 

ah, yes. irreversible, unalterable, set in stone. you’ve heard these words so many times over, no matter how eloquently they’d been reshaped and rephrased. no matter how different they’d sounded every time. no matter how much you wished you could stop overthinking it. 

looking less like a new romantic interest and more like a replacement, you chuckle inwardly to yourself as zhongli stares out over the harbor, a new mortal friend to chat with. the thought hits a little too close to home, and oh that was the word you were looking for. 

you are just a replacement. 

how could you not be? you see how zhongli looks when he talks about her. though he doesn’t say it outright, you know he loved her.

still loves her. 

and so, who— no, what are you but just another someone? 

and here you were thinking you were someone special. of course you just had to stick your nose somewhere it didn’t belong. 

you’d really thought you could keep your head cool in all situations; no, before all this you really had—  but suddenly when emotions and love are involved, everything spirals out of your control. vile thoughts crawl up from the depths of your soul, clawing at your rationality and eating away at your want want want. 

and so when zhongli turns to look into your eyes again, mixed emotions rise in your heart like bile would up your throat. the wine you’d been drinking all night loosens your tongue, and the words are slipping out of your mouth before you can take them back. 

“are you really going to talk about her all night?“

fuck.

zhongli frowns for a fraction of a second, his head tilting to the side in contemplation, then parts his lips and replies:

“is there a problem with it?”

his answer makes you want to throw your head back in hysterical laughter. his energy is completely placid, which actually might make it even worse. he’s genuinely asking. genuinely fucking asking. here your head is, overrun with thoughts left and right, mind fraying at the seams, and that’s what he’s asking? is there a problem? your hand clenches and unclenches, nails digging crescents into the palm of your hand. he has to be joking. 

a waiter arrives to change and refill the empty pot of tea, but immediately stiffens at the silent atmosphere. once the new tea leaves have been added and begun to steep, he immediately hightails it out of there, nearly slipping in his haste.

clink. 

you set your wine glass on the tabletop. need to sober up after that one. zhongli still looks faintly puzzled, but allows you to do as you wish, and you both watch as steam floats up from the spout of the teapot. pouring a cup of glaze lily tea, your mind taunts, you take a sip to clear your head. 

huh. that’s odd.

you pull the porcelain rim away from your mouth, tilting the cup to stare at its contents. nothing is out of the ordinary, and the tea smells as fragrant as ever, but there’s a particular... sweetness to it? if it were any more bitter you wouldn’t have payed it attention, but the brew shouldn’t be.. sweet?

“zhongli, did you add anything to the tea?”

the bewilderment on his face only grows. 

“i don’t believe so? nothing other than the tea itself should be present...”

the corner of your mouth quirks down, eyes still inspecting the tea dredges in the cup. then why was the tea... was it really just your taste buds? a foreboding feeling sends shivers down your spine, and it’s building building building—

zhongli’s eyes suddenly widen, and he startles back from the table like a frightened colt. his head whips to the side, spear immediately appearing in his hand, and he draws his shoulder back at a speed you hadn’t seen before. the tip slices through air and hits its mark instantaneously, pinning the waiter from earlier to the wall he was lurking behind. zhongli rises from his seat, the tips of his hair glowing amber, and promptly knocks the man out with a blow to his neck. the waiter lets out a choked sound, then slumps unconscious. a crumpled piece of paper falls from his pocket. 

instructions. zhongli understands what’s happened the moment he picks up the piece of parchment. most likely sent because of the swindling incident yesterday. a desperate last-resort attempt at ridding the millelith of a witness. 

dexterous fingers begin to unfold the note. 

but why implement such an unskilled assassin? they barely had any killing intent whatsoever, else they would have been noticed sooner. there are no weapons other than this dagger on them either... his eyes swiftly scan the contents of the note, and all at once, everything falls into place.

the tea. he should’ve realized it sooner. 

the clatter of rattling dishes sounds from behind him, and he spins on his heels, staring wide-eyed—

red red red stains your hand and drips through your fingers, spilling out of your mouth and splattering the ground. red. your throat makes a garbled noise, not unalike the one made by the waiter just moments before, and your eyes dilate out of focus, rapidly glazing over. red.

you collapse in your chair, and all he can see is red. 

picking you up carefully in his arms, he closes his eyes (from the red red—) and teleports to the pharmacy. 

a single plead hangs in the air. 

- 

you jolt awake, hand flying to your mouth and chest heaving anxiously. you can still taste the metallic tang of blood. your blood. 

then, as you’re trembling from what could have been a brush with death, firm arms wrap themselves around you, tucking you securely into a warm chest. 

“shh... it’s okay. it’s okay.”

a low voice murmurs reassurances to you, cradling you in safety and tranquility. zhongli runs his hand through your hair soothingly, bringing you down from the frantic state you’d awoke to, and now you can recognize where you are. zhongli’s living room. you’re settled on his lap, gathered in his hold, and you can feel his steady breathing against you, a stark contrast to your own labored breaths. it’s when he’s sensed that you’ve regained rationality that he begins to explain. 

“you were out for a few hours and collapsed due to the poisoning that was originally intended for my consumption. i sincerely apologize for that. it was an unfortunate mishap.”

his voice is smooth and saccharine sweet as he talks, a deep rumble that you can feel as you lay your face on his chest. he takes it on himself to explain a little further of what happened while you were unconscious, which you are grateful for so you can sort your... thoughts out, from before the interruption.

(while he brushes over the matter of carrying you in his arms rather perfunctorily, it still lights a warm flame in your heart. you want this to work out. desperately.)

when his narration peters out to a natural quiet, the muffled hum of early morning workers bustling about outside, you ask the question that’s been on your mind since the very beginning of your outing. 

“is this,” you gesture to him, to you, to the comfort, the hugs, the love, “because of guizhong too?”

understanding finally washes over zhongli’s face in subtle waves, and he gives the most mesmerizingly fond smile to your doubting question. a rich chuckle bubbles up from his chest, the endearing tinge to it only pushing your slight confusion forward. 

“ah, so this is what your previous question was mentioning.”

his eyes soften, the smudge of red under them only making the gold of his irises bloom even further. the hazy look in his eyes makes you feel like he’s drifting. you can recognize that well enough.

(drifting away from you, a faint bite of a bitter voice whispers.)

“yes, i did love guizhong. she’d departed from this land all too soon for me to convey it, and it is one of the few things i still regret to this day.”

the words spark a pang in your chest, the sharp, tingling-sour kind that reminds you of unripe sunsettias and overly spiced mint, but you take a deep breath and it fades. you should hear him out. you need to. you want to.

“i retold my memories with her to you because they were... my happiest memories. they were all i had to speak of, other than the redundant miscellaneous knowledge i’ve retained over the years. i’d thought you’d rather hear of happy experiences rather than the long tangents i can run myself off of. i’ve been properly chastised by this incident nevertheless.”

he gently tilts your head up from where it’s buried in the front of his silk shirt, wiping away the stray tears that roll down your cheeks. you sniffle and wait for him to finish speaking, chest already lightening. 

“however, remember this— while i did love guizhong, you are not a mere semblance of her for me to retain by my side.”

he calls your name softly, reverently.

“my love, you are not a replacement. the one i’m in love with now is you.”

relief, warmth, and love love love surges in your chest altogether as he smiles gingerly, and you cup his face with your own hands, feeling the heat of his flushed cheeks against your palms. 

his lips are plush, soft against your own chapped ones as you draw him into a kiss spelling all the things you couldn’t say out loud. that you were frustrated at the thought of being a rebound for him. that you were terrified at the thought of dying with regrets. that you were unimaginably relieved at his explanation. 

that you love him too. 

zhongli takes it all into stride, leading your hands to rest on his waist as his own cup the back of your head and nape of your neck. he kisses fully, wholeheartedly, lips moving tenderly against yours, giving back what you’re bringing forward to him, for him, in equal measure. it feels right. 

thank you, zhongli.

#diluc x gn!reader #kaeya x gn!reader #xiao x gn!reader #zhongli x gn!reader #diluc #kaeya #xiao #zhongli #genshin impact #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #cecilia #request #sickfic #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #diluc ragnivindr x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #ooc? probably #cue sobbing

[fictionsmooches]

PORCO X READER X PIECK

Plot: after a small fight with Porco, Pieck helps (y/n) get Porco jealous, while also having fun with her.

Contains: sweating, degradation, Praia, name calling ‘slut’ whore’ ect.ect., oral sex, unprotected sex, thigh riding, lesbian sex, 18+ MDNI

Word count; 3k-ish

Classes had already been out for the day, and with a long weekend around the corner, you were more than ready to get this ‘Porco issue” sorted out. Your whole life felt like it was spent between Pieck and Porco. You three had formed a bond unlike any other. You shared secrets, hopes, and protected each other on and off the battlefield.

“Look (y/n), a small fire lit under his ass wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, he’s been awfully rude to me lately. I wouldn’t mind making him a little jealous myself.” Pieck said.

All week he had been acting funny towards you. A little too funny for your comfort. It all started when you and Pieck decided to hang out without Porco. He had been taking extra lesions from Zeke as of lately, so he wouldn’t come home until late. The dorms were too quiet to be alone. Your thoughts had rang too loud to be left alone with quiet ticks of clocks to keep you company.

Pieck had no roommate since Annie left for Paradis, so you decided to have a sleepover. The two of you spent the night swapping stories of the week and laughing over nothing. It was a well needed pleasant night. However, In the morning when you arrived home you could see the hurt all over Porco’s face. He was sitting up on his bed. He faced the door. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, you knew for a fact he didn’t sleep at all last night.

“Where were you? You know you worried me to death!” he yelled standing up. His loud tone took over the whole room. It was as if nothing else existed apart from you two in this room.

“Oh I'm sorry Pock.. I don’t mean to worry you. I just got lonely waiting here for you to come back so I had a sleepover with Pieck.” you spoke softly as if to sooth him. You really didn't mean to make him worry, that was the last thing you wanted.

“Well the least you could have done was left a note.” he said brushing passed you as he walked through the still open door. His voice was cold and numb. You hated seeing this side of Porco, the cold side of him.

You could deal with his anger outbursts, you could manage the yelling or the cursing when he was upset. You could at least talk him down from that, but you can't help him when he was like this. How could you help somebody who didn't feel nothing? This was the first time he ever acted like this towards you, and it felt horrible.

Sure he yelled at Reiner and even got too snappy with Pieck every now and again- but not you. He made a habit of bragging to everyone that you’d be his wife one day and how beautiful you were whenever you weren’t around. You knew Porco was smitten for you but he never acted on it.

You waited all year for Porco to make the first move but feared he never would. Maybe it was because he wanted to live up to Marcel’s legacy. Maybe he didn’t want to ruin the friendship between you and Pieck. But it looked as though he’d never act on those feelings now.

“Pieck.. what if he never talks to me again?” you spoke as you slipped down onto Pieck’s lap. Her skirt was damp with the tears you’d been crying all day.

“I highly doubt that. You just have to show him that if he doesn’t act fast, he’ll lose you.”

You nodded and sat up. You wiped your last tear away and raised your fist.

“Ok. What’s the plan?”

Pieck slipped her arm around your waist and pulled you closer. Your thighs now touched one another as she closed in the gap between you two. She cupped her free hand over your ear, she whispered softly.

“You want me to do what?! Pieck, we aren’t little girls anymore! We can’t just ‘practice’ like we did when we were little!” you jumped slightly. She pulled you back into her grasp.

“And why not! Am I not your type?” Pieck teased.

“It’s not that” you looked away. “It’s just.. I don’t know.. Embarrassing?”

Pieck couldn’t help but giggle at your shyness. It is true that you two used to practice kissing each other when you were children. You needed to be sure that when the time came, and you married your future spouse, you’d be ready. But you were not children anymore. You couldn’t just kiss her and act like it meant nothing. After all, you had some morals left.

Sure Porco and Pieck fought about who would be the one to marry you- but you never thought anything of it. Why would you? Wasn't it natural to hold hands with your best friends? Your mind ticked and ticked until finally you could form a coherent thought. Was Pieck in love with you? And was Porco as well? How long had they been? Either way, the idea of kissing Pieck didn’t seem so far-fetched anymore.

You could hear Porcos boots clomping in the distance, he had always been so brash with his walking. You often felt bad for the poor wood floors he had walked on.

Just as the door knob turned, Pieck cupped your face and pressed her lips against yours. As soon you were connected, you could feel yourself pooling under your skirt. Pieck had begun rubbing on your thigh, and that definitely didn't help the dampness from collecting. The warmth of her mouth took over your whole body. You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, your mouth opened slightly as Pieck shoved her tongue into yours.

You knew Porco could walk in at any moment, and the excitement of him catching you made you want to kiss Pieck even more. It felt so dirty to be like this. To have Pieck’s hand up your skirt, and to have Porco possibly see. you wouldn't dream of pulling away. It felt too good to stop now.

The moment the door actually opened, Porco just stood there- eyes wide as he watched Pieck absolutely degrade the mouth he wanted for himself. He had dreamed about parting those lips countless times. He tried to imagine if your mouth felt as good as it did in his wet dreams. His now half hard cock twitched as he watched Pieck pull away from you, a string of saliva still connecting you two.

“Good evening Pock.” she spoke with a smile as if nothing just happened.

He avoided his gaze from the two of you. “Yeah.. whatever” he said, nearly throwing his books on his desk. He took a seat as he covered his face- hoping it would make his blush less noticeable.

Pieck kissed your forehead. “I’ll see you later my sweet (y/n), i’ll be late to class.” she said walking out of your dorm with a wink. You sat breathless at what had just happened. Pieck had unlocked something so sinister in you, and you feared that simple kissing wouldn't be enough for you anymore.

As time went on you wouldnt understand how Pieck could just go along with you like nothing happened. You walked to class together as usual, ate lunch like you usually would- but in the back of your mind the only thing you could think about was Pieck. You craved her touch on your body. You longed for her hands and for her mouth, but you wanted Porco’s gaze upon you just as much.

“Uhh Earth to (y/n)?” Pieck said waving her hand in front of you. You had spaced out at the table you had been studying at. Porco sat at your left and Pieck across from you.

“I’m sorry. I just got lost in thought!” You rubbed the back of your head In embarrassment.

The stuffy room you sat in, had once been dedicated to strategizing wars and battles but the campus had now converted them into study halls for students. You weren’t sure if the weather made the room feel humid or if you had imagined it to distract yourself from forming tension between you three.

Large windows covered the walls of the room, the sunlight coming in gave you a clear view of everything in the room. The tables were old and worn, chairs wobbled ever so slightly, and the books on the shelf were slowly collecting dust as years went by.

“Is it hot in here?” You ask aloud, fanning yourself with your hand.

“I’m sure it is, and these uniforms don’t help out any.” Pieck smiled was she pulled her book away from her face.

Porco slid his hand on your thigh from under the table, he snickered as he turned the page of his book with his other hand.

You gulped quietly.

“Yeah I’m getting tired of all these layers, I wish I could peel off a few, don’t you Pieck?”  Porco said as his hand gilded under your skirt, calloused hands rubbed small circles on your inner thighs. You were being too obvious, you had always been too obvious.

Pieck caught on quickly to the soft movements Porco made under the table and your breath heaving. Her eyes made their way to your warm cheeks with a smirk.

“I understand completely, Porco.” Pieck looked directly in your eyes “It’s almost like I could undress entirely right now.” she began fiddling with the top buttons of her shirt.

You could feel it happening again. The wetness starting to build between your legs was unbearable.

You were practically gasping for air as Porco’s hand slowly started making its way closer and closer to your clothed cunt. Your clit ached with the thought of his touch. All sense of shame was gone at this point. Pieck’s shirt was half way opened at this point. The bits of her lace bra were exposed more and more with every bottom she slowly undid.

You couldn’t tell if your arousal came more from Piecks undressing or from Porcos touch, but at this point it didn't matter, you only knew you needed more. You wished to be laid against Pieck’s chest as Porco bent you over the wooden table, just imagining it made you bucked your hips in desperation for more friction. Porco slowly placed the pad of his middle and ring finger against your clit.

He withdrew his hand entirely as you let out a soft moan.

“It’s almost time for dinner, we gotta get going if we want to beat the crowd.” Porco said, looking at the clock on the wall.

“Right! Best if we leave now.” Pieck said with a devilish smile as she began buttoning up her shirt.

The two left you there panting for air, and longing for hands all over your body. The light of golden hour stained the room with warm hues. Your mind raced with what had just happened, and why you were left hot and bothered. Your legs spread open on the chair you had been sitting it, a small puddle laid under you.

The next day You woke to an empty dorm. Porco had been long gone at training. You knew you would have most of the day to yourself but today your mind raced with thought of Pieck and Porco. At times you shifted your weight to distract yourself from the overwhelming thoughts you craved.

It wasn’t long before a knock at the door sent a shiver up your spine that jolted you to sit up.

“(Y/N)?” Pieck called as she let herself in. “I assume Porcos is training?”

You nodded.

“Ooh so you’re all alone?” Pieck’s tone sounded sultry like she was alluding to something. You felt the heat rising in your face.

She made her way over to your bed. Her foot steps echoed in the room with every step she took. She took a seat on your bed. And leaned over to your ear.

“Have you been thinking of me?”

You avoided looking at her. “Maybe” you answered

“Or have you been thinking of Porco?” She asks nibbling at your ear lobe. Your breath couldn’t help but deepen.

“Maybe” you answer again

Pieck pulled away and repositioned herself. She was now sitting with her back fully against the wall, her legs laid out over the length of the bed.

“Come here (y/n). I want you to show me the way you want to grind on Porcos lap” she lifted her skirt to expose her thighs. She looked so soft from where you sat.

You don’t think twice about straddling her thigh. Your clothed cunt made contact with her soft skin sending a shiver down your spine. Piecks hand found their place on your ass with a squeeze.

“Such a desperate little whore you’ve become. You get one kiss from me and a half assed teasing from Porco, and you’re so eager to do as I say?” She squeezed your ass again only this time more rougher.

You could only moan in response.

Pieck had begun dragging you back and forth on her thigh, pleasure rippled through your body.

“Unbutton your shirt for me”

You hesitated. “What if Porco comes back early?” You whined

“Don’t act like you don’t want him to see you like this. Now unbutton your shirt”

She lifted her leg to make more friction between you and her thigh.

You did as you were told and undid every button to the best of your ability given the circumstances.

“No bra? You really are a whore (y/n)!”

You moaned at her words, your pussy was leaking all over her thigh as you rode her.

Pieck placed your nipple in her mouth and began to suck.

“Fuck-!” You say throwing your head back

She slapped your ass making you moan louder.

Her mouth felt amazing wrapped around the sensitive bud, sending shockwaves through your entire body.

She looked up at you through her eyelashes. She looked as though she was smiling as she sucked on your nipple, she knew what she was doing.

The knot in your stomach had started to tighten.

“Pieck! You’re going to make me cum!”

She pulled away. Without saying anything, she pulled your panties to the side, giving your cunt direct contact with her.

“Cum for me then” she said looking in your eyes.

Your hips moved at a rapid pace as you released on her thigh with a scream.

You were so busy with Pieck that you didn’t even notice Porcos boots clomping down the hallway. By the time you noticed he was already opening the door.

He stepped into the most unexpected but beautiful sight. You say still straddling Piecks thigh, gasping with your tits out. Your cum and sweat covered your body and Piecked thigh, your skirt hiked up over your ass and piecks hands holding on the back of your thighs.

Pieck peered her head to the side “hi Pock!”

You couldn’t help but feel so embarrassed and exposed.

Porcos cock twitched with excitement.

“So this is what you do while I’m off working my ass off?” He says while slicking his hair back more.

You were speechless. When you decided to speak all you could manage to say was “I’m sorry- I couldn’t help myself! I just-“

“Just what? Decided to act like a slut and think I wouldn’t find out?” Porco says.

Your clit jumped with excitement.

Pieck shifted her weight so you lay elbows to the bed with your ass in the air. Pieck guided her hands to your panties and slid them off of you. She spread your ass cheeks and pussy lips for Porcos full view.

“Look Porco, she’s just begging to be filled” Pieck smiled up at you.

You could hear Porco’s zipper being undone behind you.

“She sure is. But I want to hear that from her” he grinned, stroking his cock. The tip was wet with precum already. He stroked as your hole fluttered with excitement.

“Please Porco! Please, I need it!” You said.

“Tell me princess, what do you need?”

Pieck reached her hand underneath to rub your clit.

You gasp nearly being able to talk, “I need you to fuck me Porco! Please fuck me!” You choke out.

“Good girl” he said as he slowly pushed the tip of his hard cock inside. “Mmm.. so fucking wet already” he shoved the enteier length inside you.

You moaned against piecks mouth as she kissed you. Her tongue once again shoving its way into your mouth.

While Porco took his time fucking your tight hole, you slid lower to make contact with Pieck’s lower half. She giggled at the sight of you being so eager to please her. “Here, ill help you.” She said lowering her panties.

You wasted no time lapping up every once of Piecks oozing pussy. She collapsed into the this matress as you attacked her clit.

Piecks moaning caught the attention of Porco. “L-Like what you see Pock? Her mouth feels amazing on my pussy.” Pieck said, smirking.

“I always knew (y/n) would be the perfect little slut.” Porco said speeding up his thrust into your sloppy tight cunt. You moaned against Piecks clit, squeezing down on Porco’s cock in response to his degrading words.

Slowly you added two fingers into Piecks slit.  “Better do a good job (y/n), or I wont let you cum” Porco said slowing his pace. You wasted no time proving at her g-spot. Pieck moaned in delight.

“Good girl.” Pieck said in between moans.

You couldn’t go on much long like this. You needed release and you needed it bad. Porco could tell you where close by the way you began clamping down on his cock.

Pieck was the first to cum as she held a fist full of your hair “(y/n)! You’re gunna make me cum” she exclaimed. She lay breathless on the bed for a moment as Porco kept thrusting into you.

Pieck seized the opportunity to reach under and rub your clit. Pieck’s soft fingertips where enough to send you over the edge. “Porco! I’m coming!” You screamed.

“I’m close (y/n).. where do you want me to finish?” He choked

“Don’t be shy now (y/n) Answer him” Pieck said.

“Inside!” You yelled feeling over stimulated.

“Fuck!” Porco said as he raised inside of you, your pussy drank up every drop of his cum.

You three laid squished against one another, sweat and cum covering your bodies

#porco x reader #aot smut #Pieck x reader #porco x reader smut #Pieck x reader smut #x reader #jean x reader #erwin smith x reader #reiner x reader #attack on titan #smut #x reader smut #attack on titan smut

[raibebe]

This Gift

Genre: fluff Words: 932 prompt: 90s grunge boy Jeno x reader Warnings: happy tears

A/N: Merry Christmas to my favorite Jeno I ever created, I needed to write something soft for Christmas for him. And after all the agony I put my Everlong characters through, they deserve a little happy moment. I have no idea when this actually takes place timeline wise but I feel like this is kind of far ahead into the future... ALSO I AM SORRY BUT OUR BOY GOT A HAIRCUT!

Everlong Masterlist

“God, I don’t want to ever eat anything ever again,” you chuckled, starfishing out on the bed in Jeno’s childhood room. “I hate to inform you that we’ll have to go through the same procedure with your extended family tomorrow,” Jeno just giggled, his dark hair soft above his brows from the shower. He had gone to get his sides cut short because his mother would have scolded him for letting it grow out that long. It had been a week since he had cut it but you still missed running your fingers through the long strands of hair. “And then we’ll sleep in my bed,” you grinned, sitting up to watch your boyfriend dart around the room. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was nervous about you being in his old room that still held all his childhood memories along with random stuff his mother had moved to the room like her ironing board and the basket of laundry in the corner where his guitar used to sit.

“I... I got something for you,” Jeno eventually breathed out, fiddling with his hands like he always did when he was nervous. “Jeno,” you cooed, reaching your arms out to him so he could intertwine your fingers as you pulled him onto his childhood bed. “I know we were saving up for a nicer place and we agreed on not getting each other anything but I just couldn’t resist,” he smiled sheepishly, gently squeezing your hands, “Don’t be mad at me.” “I’m not,” you promised, lifting your intertwined hands up so you could press a featherlight kiss to the back of his. You really weren’t. A bit flustered maybe because he had caught you off guard like that and you had nothing to give to him in return even though you technically had given him a gift just before you two had left for the trip and you had put a little Santa hat on Bongsik that had Jeno’s eyes sparkling with joy even though the kitten wasn’t a big fan of it.

“Okay,” Jeno whispered, giving your hands a final squeeze before he quickly stood up again, rummaging through his backpack to produce a small red box, not bigger than the size of his palm. “It’s. I just-“ he tried to explain as he sat down on the mattress again, interrupting himself with a frustrated groan that made you giggle fondly. “Here. Merry Christmas, bubblegum” he said instead, placing the little carton in your palm. “Merry Christmas,” you smiled back, leaning against Jeno’s chest as you pulled the delicate golden string around the box loose. For some reason, the whole situation had your heart pounding like it was ready to leap out of your chest and your nerves prickling with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation.

“Jeno,” you gasped when you finally took off the top of the box with shaking hands and inside on a little cushion laid a simple silver ring. “It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he spoke lowly, feeling how your body had locked up against his. “But to me, it’s a promise,” he went on, pressing a kiss to your hair, “A promise that I’ll keep loving you.” “Jen-,” you hiccuped, tears clouding your vision as a sob cut off your words. “Hey,” he tried to soothe you but you didn’t even let him finish, all but throwing yourself into his waiting arms, muffling your happy tears in his well-worn sleeping shirt. “Me too,” you tried to speak through your tears, not sure if he could even make out the words, “I’ll always love you too.” Softly rocking you back and forth in time with the song he was humming, Jeno tried to soothe your sobs, running his hands up and down your back comfortingly, rapidly blinking his eyes and staring straight out of his window to fight back his own tears of pure relief and happiness.

“Put it on me,” you whispered once you won your battle with your tears, extracting yourself from Jeno’s arms to see that his eyes were shiny with tears as well. “I let… I let them engrave something,” he said, his voice thick with emotions as he plucked the ring from the box, tilting it in the low light of his bedside lamp so you could make out the numbers. “It’s when I-“ “It’s when you moved back here,” he laughed, the sound coming out wet, “Too cheesy?” “Exactly right,” you snuffled, fighting back another wave of tears as you shakily held out your left hand. With equally as shaky fingers, Jeno managed to snugly fit the ring onto your fourth finger, the simple band fitting perfectly. “I love you,” you cried, cupping your boyfriend’s face with both hands to press a kiss to his lips, tasting the salt of your tears. “And I love you,” he breathed between kisses, holding onto your hand on his face to feel the metal of your ring slowly warming up.

“One day, I’ll get you a real ring,” Jeno whispered into the darkness that night when you were sleeping soundly, tucked securely beneath his chin and bundled up in his deep blue sheets with the tiny guitars printed on them, “Nothing too big or flashy because you wouldn’t like that. Just exactly right with a small stone. Maybe even gold if I can afford it by then. Until then, this one will have to do.” With that, he intertwined your hands and closed his eyes, quickly falling asleep to the sounds of your even breathing and the familiar warmth of your body.

#jeno #lee jeno #nct #neowritingsnet #jeno fluff #jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #nct dream #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios

[rose-kingdom]

| cuddling with their s/o |

- suna, akaashi, atsumu, kenma

gender neutral reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

part 1

— — —

| suna. |

- he loves to bury his head in the crook of your neck, for you being able to feel him exhale, letting you know with that lingering tingle on your skin that he’s still there.

- he really appreciates the extra warmth you bring into his bed as you cuddle with him, your warmth is something that he wishes he could bask in all day.

- like most, weekends are his favourite days of the week, he relishes knowing that he can wake up and hold you for a few more hours before having to show even the slightest interest in doing anything.

- while cuddling, he always makes a habit of peppering lazy kisses onto your neck, lips and collarbone,, they always seem innocent enough.

- his hands rest firmly around your waist as he cushions his head on your chest while you twirl his hair in your hands, occasionally he’ll nuzzle his head against your hand, silently telling you he loves you.

suna’s head found refuge in the crook of your neck, letting out a content exhale that sent shivers down your spine. he curled further into your warmth, it almost felt as if something was compelling him toward you but he couldn’t quite place it. all he knew, is that he was perfectly content in that moment.

the soft glow of the early morning sun captured your face perfectly, god you were ethereal. weekends were always the slowest that both of your live’s got. hours would waste away as you cuddled together under a fluffy blanket with the tv flicked to a random channel. he placed a kiss to the soft skin of your neck, which was promptly followed by half a dozen more.

your hand kneaded through his hair, fingertips softly brushing against his scalp as your eyes scanned over the scene playing on the tv. suna’s eyes were fixated on his phone screen, he was struggling to comprehend the words he was reading, though. the feeling of you threading your fingers through his hair was so distracting and comfortable. subconsciously, he lightly pushed back against your hand before retreating his head back.

— — —

| akaashi. |

- he rubs small, soothing circles on the small of your back, he finds himself doing it a lot more during weeks with big tests.

- he never forgets to remind you of how much he loves and cherishes you, he constantly shows you through small, chaste kisses placed carefully on your temple.

- he makes a habit of triple checking if you’re comfortable before he even thinks of moving himself, he’ll do anything to make sure you feel secure in his arms.

- he’ll place his arms around your torso with his chin resting lightly on your head and a book open in front of him, this way he can catch up on some ready while you cuddle closer into his chest.

- you falling asleep in his arms always leads to a content smile finding its way to his face, because this way at least he knows that you’re resting peacefully.

- seeing you so peaceful makes him feel content and so he’ll double check that you’ll be comfortable for the night before pulling you closer to him and succumbing to sleep.

akaashi smiled, looking over at you standing in his door way. you were tired, he could tell by the bags under your eyes and the way your posture was slightly slumped. you approached him, before falling down on his bed and closing your eyes. discarding his book beside him, he looked over with worry and wordlessly placed a hand on your shoulder.

you lifted your bed, allowing him a closer look at the flush of red across your cheeks and the slight tears forming in your eyes. “‘kaashi?” “yes darling? what’s the matter?” concern laced his voice, a caring look forming in his eyes. you crawled over to him and into his arms, burying you head in his chest and letting out tiny sobs. he leaned back and pulled you closer towards him, his eyes widening at your next question, “do you love me?”

he cupped your face in his hands and placed a chaste kiss to your forehead. a simple action that he’d complete as a way to silently reassure you, “darling, of course i love you.” with that reaffirmation, you curled closer into his chest, allowing him to rest his chin on your head. he rhythmically started rubbing circles on the small of your back, inviting a sense of drowsiness to wash over you as you felt your eyes grow heavy. a content smile stretched on his lips as he stared down at you sleeping peacefully on his chest. he picked up his book and quietly returned to his reading.

— — —

| atsumu. |

- he’s always the big spoon, he rests his chin atop your head to let you know that he’s completely content with just holding you close to him.

- your head always finds a way to bury itself into his chest, and he never declines when a leg is lazily thrown over his.

- hes clingy and loves to hold you while cuddling, he’ll pull you so you’re lying flush on his chest, it’s just easier to hold you close.

- you can’t even think about leaving his arms, once you try and leave, he’s not letting you go for the rest of the night.

- although he’d never admit it, the face you make when you’re tired and struggling to stay awake for him is adorable.

- always makes a comment about how disheveled you look after cuddling, he only does this to elicit a reaction from you.

atsumu fell down on your bed with a thud, burying his head in your blankets. in his message he claimed he was coming over to study. of course, you knew he meant he was coming over to cuddle, he very rarely studied after practice. he let out a huff before laying his head on your pillow, making grabby hands as to signal for you to join him.

you obliged and joined him with a slight chuckle at his childishness. he slipped his arms around your torso as you layed your head against his chest. you slung a leg over his and he pulled you closer to him. once you have adjusted into a comfortable position, he placed his chin atop of your head and let out a content sigh.

you fell asleep with him holding you in his arms. when you both woke up, he held back a chuckle at your dishevelled hair and rosy cheeks. when you looked up at him with a small smile he felt his heart beat a little faster and his cheeks grow hotter. he would always find you adorable.

— — —

| kenma. |

- having any sense of connection is extremely important to him, having the reassurance that you’re still there, that you haven’t left him.

- usually will rest his head in your lap while he plays his games or you will cuddle up in his lap on his gaming chair.

- absolutely adores it when you just simply fiddle with his hair while his head lays in your lap, he feels comfortable when you play with his hair.

- late nights playing mario kart are his favourite because you’ll sit in his lap with his arms around you, he’ll place his head on your shoulder and bury his head into your neck.

- he’s an absolute sucker for an s/o who is perfectly content on just holding his hand while sleeping, there’s something about you being there but not too close.

- kenma just wants the reassurance, he wants to know that the person who managed to break down his walls cherishes him as much as he cherishes them.

the repetitive clicking of a mouse filled the otherwise silent room. the occasional call out to his teammates through the headset left kenma’s mouth. you scrolled through your phone, refusing to admit that you’d slowly fallen into a state of boredom. your boyfriend and had recently bought a new game, one that he’d been excited about for a while.

you clicked off your phone and placed it beside you on his bed. you made your way over to him quietly, socks meeting carpeted floor. as you reached him, you turned to stand facing him before climbing onto his lap and wrapping your legs around his torso. he placed a peck onto your forehead before placing his chin on your head.

kenma loved when you got all cuddly like this, when he could hold his favourite person while playing his favourite games. he blushed as you buried your head into the crook of his neck. butterflies flustered in his stomach, he could feel the very tips of his ears heating up.

“hey baby, if you get up we can cuddle and play some mario kart.”

— — —

hello lovelies ! i hope everyone is having an amazing day/night , if not my inbox is always open if you need to talk !!

- rose

#hq headcanons #suna x reader #kenma x reader #haikyuu #akaashi x reader #atsumu x reader #akaashi hcs #suna hcs #kenma hcs #atsumu hcs #kenma headcanons #atsumu headcanons #akaashi headcanons #suna headcanons #suna rintarou #suna rintaro #kenma kozume #atsumu miya #akaashi keiji #rose.haikyuu

[kasey-writes-stuff]

The boy with the reindeer clothes and captain america mask

You had fallen for Callahan the instant you first met him through bad boy halo’s Minecraft server. It was insane really out of all the guys and girls you could’ve fallen for you wound up falling for the faceless mute boy. I guess there was just something extra charming about how he was able to make you fall for him despite not showing his face or using his voice… It had been years since you had met him and the rest of the crew online and by now you had even met a few IRL! Still your heart aches for the one true person you wished to meet, you wished to hug, to hold, to kiss if he so wished… So all that being said after months of begging and convincing from your other friends to just get up the guts and ask… you finally did it…

You decided today would be the day you call Callahan and ask if he wants to meet up! Despite Callahan never talking he loved when you would call he always said your voice was very soothing and he’s even fell asleep to you talking away a few times.. You can always tell when he falls asleep because when he’s awake he keeps it saying that he’s typing but once he’s fallen asleep somehow it turns off fate or some magical power or maybe someone lives with him that you don’t know about, either way you don’t question it. It was like a silent understanding between the two of you to never question it whether be out of fear of somehow messing it up if you question it or if just simply neither of you cared enough to ask…

You take a deep breathe before clicking call… You anxiously await and within only two rings he picks up and quickly types in chat “hi, what’s up?” You gulp softly “Hi Calla well um I was actually calling because I well I have a question…” He types question marks and “okay? What is it?” You take another deep breathe your voice shaking as you finally say the words “Do you want to meet up with me?” You begin to ramble on about how he doesn’t have to show his face or anything but before you can barely mutter anything else out he types “yea sure I’m down when do you wanna do it? Do you want me to come to you or you come to me or what?” You blink a few times not believing the words you read

Your mind swirls wondering how he agreed to quickly and seems so calm when you felt as if your heart was gonna beat out of your chest… Little did you know he was actually feeling the same way and he had to retype the sentence a few times because his fingers were shaking so much he typoed quite a bit… You suddenly hear finger snapping and quickly are pulled back to reality making a small noise of alarm quickly looking at your computer screen you saw Callahan’s mic lit green and heard the quickest laugh before his mic was once again red… “Sorry I zoned out for a second there um I can come there if you don’t mind, I know it would be easier for you if I did”

Unbeknownst to you Callahan had a wide smile on his face as he silently cheered to himself before quickly typing that he would send you his address later and that he had to go! You laughed softly a bit from nerves of this actually happening and from imagining Callahan rushing around his house getting everything ready for your visit “okay sounds good I’ll see you later bye calla I L-“ you barely stopped yourself you had said it a few times before to him and honestly you said it almost all the time to your other friends but something about saying it to Callahan was different.. You didn’t like saying it not because you didn’t love him but because you couldn’t explain that how you said I love you to him and I love you to your other friends was different so you usually just refrained from saying it

Callahan laughed silently to himself quickly typing “I L- you too” his heart soared anytime you told him you loved him though he tried not to think much of it because you always said I love you to everyone else so it was just your thing right? Though it was painfully obvious you didn’t say it as much to him and that’s something he never understood and while it hurt like heck he could never bring himself to ask about it he was too scared he was too scared of being even more hurt so he just suffered in silence cherishing every time you told him you loved him even more each and every time you said it…

Once you ended the call with Callahan you quickly grabbed your phone FaceTiming Niki as you already begin packing.. Only a couple rings and she picks up “hi y/n! What’s up?!” You smile widely blushing brightly as you say “Well I may be taking a trip very soon…” she claps her hands together “really?! Where are you going?” You shrug softly finding your duffel bag “I don’t know yet” she turns her head at you curiously “what that makes no sense what do you-“ suddenly she stops a giant smile appearing on her face “YOU DID NOT” your smile widens as you nod excitedly “I DID I DID!” She screams happily “AAH Y/N I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!” You scream happily as well “AH THANK YOU” she excitedly says “YOU’RE WELCOME! So when are you leaving?” You throw your hands in the air “I don’t know probably within a week or two maybe?! We haven’t really discussed the details yet” she nodded softly “well let me know when you find them out!” You nodded back “I will I will! I’m gonna go ahead and get packed I’ll talk to you later love you!”

Callahan after ending call with y/n quickly grabbed his phone as he ran about tidying up. I began calling Dream and luckily within only a few rings he picked up “hello?” I quickly begin typing “DREAM” he laughs softly “what’s up calla?” I nearly bump into a wall as I’m typing but stop myself just before I hit it “Okay so I may have gotten asked by y/n if I would be okay with them coming out to meet me and I may have said yes…” Dream gasps softly and I can hear the smile in his voice as he speaks “What?! No way! I’m so happy for you guys! Finally! We’ve been trying to get you two to meet for years!” I roll my eyes light heartedly “I know I know so now you guys can finally stop nagging us” Dream laughs again “hey it was for your own goods okay? We’re just trying to help our friends be happy as they can be okay?” I smile to myself “yea yea whatever you say” he laughs more “Whaattt it’s true and you know it” I snicker to myself “maybe we’ll see, I’m gonna finish getting everything ready I’ll call you later okay?” I can hear his ever widening smile “Of course see you calla”

It was the next day and you were absolutely buzzing wishing you could tell chat the full story of why you weren’t gonna be able to stream next week but alas you and calla both wished to keep it very private in fact as far as you knew only Niki knew and as far as calla knew only Dream knew though you both suspected you had each more than likely had told someone neither of you knew for sure… anyways skip a bit and your stream has begun plenty of messages already asking what the title is about what does it mean and some being worried “Hello chat! Don’t worry don’t worry it’s nothing bad! It’s actually something really really good as to why I can’t stream!” Chat exploded asking millions of questions and others being relived that it was nothing bad, you laugh softly “Well I can’t spoil all the details as we wish to keep most of it private but I can’t stream next week because I’m meeting up with someone! Yes yes before you ask it’s someone you all know! Also again before you ask yes you can guess no I will not say if you got it right or not… at least not directly…”

Names come flying in like wild fire at first you’re seeing mainly Niki,Dream,Sapnap,even punz and bad but then you see one saying Callahan and you can’t stop the light blush that dusts your cheeks as you try to think of a way to discreetly let it be known someone guessed the right answer… Unable to think of one though you simply clap your hands and say “Okay guys someone guessed the right answer! I won’t say who and I won’t say details as I don’t wanna give it away but yes one of you guessed them!” And so of course chat lit up trying to figure out who the right answer was but alas they couldn’t figure it out, you laughed light heartedly at them and after that continued stream as normal just fiddling around the dream SMP setting up a few pranks and then deciding to build a little house with a small hint as to who you’re meeting with!

The house was simple it was made out of birch and dark oak and the small hint you used was you placed three flower pots on each of the widows.. in the first you placed a small red flower, in the second a small white one and in the final a small blue one.. You didn’t say anything about it being a hint you just placed the flowers and moved on doing a few more pranks. “Guys how do we prank Punz?” You giggled your body already erupted with butterflies knowing what Punz’s prank back to you would be “I already know he’s gonna get me back so badly but it’ll be worth it! I’m gonna replace all his pumpkins with melons!”

Chat explodes saying how thats such a simple but good prank and how punz will lose it and it’ll be so funny. You nod giggling “right right chat! So let’s get started shall we?” You begin and about ten minutes in suddenly calla shows up, you can’t help the excited smile on your face as you see Calla’s name pop up in game and you excitedly type “hi calla!” He types back “hi y/n!” You try to contain your ever growing smile “What’s up?” He says “Not much I’m watching your stream and saw you’re trying to prank punz so I decided to come help” You quickly nod now knowing he’s watching your stream you verbally say “Really?! I’d appreciate that so much thank you calla” He quickly says “Of course it’s not problem” and in no time he’s over there with you helping you replace all the pumpkins with watermelons, the job definitely gets done a lot quicker with calla there to help and it honestly is a lot more fun having calla there to bounce jokes off with you! In no time the job is done you quickly thank calla and tell him you’ll talk to him tomorrow and you end stream.

Before you go to bed you check your phone and see a text from calla “Hey so i forgot to ask earlier is that like our house or something? I noticed you made two bedrooms but you could always just make one and use the other to expand the work area if you want but if not it’s cool” You smile softly reading the text “I love the idea of expanding the room I’ll get on tomorrow off stream and fix it and yea it’s our little house… I hope you don’t mind I mean I just figured it’d be a nice little place ya know an extra place for each of us to keep things and to stay… I’m glad you got the flower hint, anyways I’ll work on it tomorrow I’m gonna try and get some sleep goodnight calla” A few minutes later a text pops up “Don’t worry I can always help and work on it besides there’s my own little hint that I wanna add as well so I’ll do it and I hope you sleep well goodnight can’t wait to see you next week” Your smile widens more as a your heart pounds “I can’t wait to see you either ❣️”

Throughout the rest of the week you only did two more streams and of course each one chat tried to get you or whoever happened to be on stream with you to spill who it was you were meeting with but no one you streamed with that week knew… besides calla of course! Chat didn’t believe them when they would say they didn’t know and it was honestly comical seeing them get so upset. It started with Sapnap and George and ended with Boomer and Punz.. Even after stream the duos had tried to get you to spill who you were meeting with but you refused to spill even to them, insisting they can wait just a few more days and though the four of them whined they settled and finally let you go.

So we fast forward and it’s Monday you leave tomorrow so you’re finishing last minute packing and waiting for Karl to come over so you can give him your spare keys because he so graciously agreed to watch your cats! Also so he can just hang out with you a bit before you have to leave and can drive you to the airport! You’re just about to start triple checking that you have everything when you hear a knock at your door. Your cats look at your curiously but don’t bother following see you rush to the door and open it to see a ever beaming Karl! He quickly rushes in hugging you tightly making you giggle as you hug him just as tightly “hi Karl!” He giggles softly “hi y/n!” After a few minutes you break apart and he quickly shuts your door. “Soooo since I’m watching your cats do I get to know where you’re going and who you’re seeing?”

You shake your head laughing softly “Sorry but no you’ll find out when everyone else does! I will say I’m going somewhere I’ve never been before” He tilts his head curiously trying to think “hmm I don’t know there’s a lot of places you’ve never been like you have yet to go to the UK, you have yet to go to like any of the states uhmm are you meeting someone you’ve never met?! Is it Sam?! Oh my gosh it’s Sam isn’t it?! You’ve never been to Texas and you’ve never met Sam!” You shake your head “Good guess good guess and while I would love to go meet Sam it is not Sam..” he pouts slightly “hmm well I don’t know there’s so many other guesses I could make” You smile and roll your eyes softly “Well instead of guessing where I’m going how about you help me double check that I have everything okay?”

He nods smiling softly “okay sounds good!” So for the rest of the night you and Karl double and triple check your bags and then just chill out watching your friends streams and posting pictures together! You both laugh at the fans freaking out over the random content of you two and laugh even more at them freaking out over karl with your cats. Two of your cats loved Karl but they love everyone so it wasn’t surprising but your third isn’t too fond of him but she’s not too fond of anyone, still Dream is convinced when he comes to visit you that she’ll love him and Karl is convinced that spending this week visiting them he’ll be able to make her love him. You’re not confident of either of those things happening but it makes you happy to see them so confident and happy so who are you to destroy their happiness.

Another small time skip and suddenly it’s Tuesday afternoon and time for you to leave, after spending an extra few minutes telling your cats goodbye and promising you’ll be back soon and that they know karl and he’ll take amazing care of them. Karl finally manages to pull you out the door and suddenly it’s all becoming more real than ever… It’s so real you’re frozen in place just standing outside your door, Karl locks your door for you and helps you sit on the ground outside your door rubbing your back “it’s okay everything is gonna be fine, we’re gonna get you to the airport the plane ride is gonna be your smoothest ever and when you get there they’re gonna be there waiting for you smiling widely and with open arms ready to give you the biggest and best hug you’ve ever had apart from my hugs” you nod and then giggle softly both because of how you don’t believe at all his statement of them being there waiting and smiling with open arms and also at his joke “Thank you Karl you’re the best you know that right?” He smiles softly squeezing your shoulder reasssuringly before smiling hopefully “so much the best that you’ll tell me who you’re meeting?” You giggle rolling your eyes “nooo not that much the best but I can give you another hint” he nods “okay okay go on!”

“Okay so I’ve never met them, I’ve never been to the place they live and they’ve been on my stream within the past month” Karl hummed in thought able to rule out, Sapnap, Dream, Alex, and Boomer… That still left way too many people so he shrugged “I don’t know I guess I’ll have to wait like everyone else” You smile softly “Well I can also say at least one person knows, I don’t know if the person I’m meeting told anyone but I assume they told at least one person so hehe” He gasps in mock offense “you told someone?! And that someone wasn’t me?! I’m so wounded!” You laugh at his dramatics “yes yes I did, it’s not that I don’t trust you obviously I do but it was just this certain person for some reason came to mind first but I wanted and still want to tell you as well but the person I’m meeting with wants to keep it very private for right now” he smiles softly hugging you gently “it’s okay don’t worry about it I’m happy for you okay? Now let’s get you to that airport!”

So now you were off! In no time you managed to make it to the airport and you had to admit it was kinda hard to leave Karl, you didn’t get to see him often as you would like.. He was always busy with mr beast and his own projects and you weren’t one to go out much so while you were frequently invited to be in mr beast videos you rarely agreed to them.. Karl sighs softly as he helps you get your bags, he sets them down beside you and hugs you tightly pressing a kiss to the top of your head “Be safe okay? Text me when you land” You hug him back even tighter and nod softly “I will don’t worry, I love you” after a few moments he lets you go “I love you too” Soon enough it was time to board the plane, the plane ride went fairly smooth only one crying toddler who luckily fell asleep and little turbulence and when getting your bags you even ran into a few fans who you gladly took pictures with and who tried light heartedly to get you to spill who you were meeting with to which you simply laughed and gave them a few extra wrist bands you kept with you and gave them to them as you said sorry that you weren’t able to tell them.

Today was finally the day! I rushed to finish getting ready knowing y/n should be arriving to the airport in no time and just as I finished getting ready and grabbed my keys my phone began ringing I quickly picked up and smiled brightly hearing y/n’s voice “hi calla! I just made it to the airport and got my bags! Are you here?” I quickly typed “not yet I’m leaving now I should be there in like thirty! I’m sorry I’m running a little late I couldn’t find the last piece of my outfit” They laughed softly and I blushed softly holding back my own laugh at how infectious theirs was “It’s okay i understand it’s a big thing so the outfit needs to be just right haha I’ll see you soon okay?” Though they can’t see it I nod excitedly as I respond “Yes see you soon can’t wait!” With that I hang up and make my way out the door, soon enough I’ve made it to the car and after what feels like forever but it’s really maybe forty five minutes at most I’ve finally made it to the airport! I take a deep breathe closing my eyes and opening them moments later..

I quickly put on my captain America mask, my light up red nose and raise my hood… Was I embarrassed? Yes definitely, was the chance of making y/n laugh and ensuring they would recognize me worth it? There’s no doubt it’s worth it… Another deep breathe and I manage to get myself into the airport and I begin scanning for y/n and within a few minutes I spot them! I quickly wave at them smiling widely and they break into a smile before trying to contain their laughter, I make my way over to them and press my nose to make it light up and thats when the dam breaks and they’re ever so melodious laughter rings through my ears…There’s something different about it this time though it sounds even better, it feels even more special, it makes me heart soar more than ever before. I find it hard to contain my own laughter a very small snicker escaping causing me to blush and quickly cover my mouth..

You’re practically doubled over in laughter in the middle of the airport but you don’t care you’re with Callahan and everything just feels so right… A few moments pass and you finally collect yourself, you boop his light up nose, he squints his eyes a bit and then pulls the nose off placing it gently on your own. You smile softly at him and start to stand on your tip toes to ensure you can reach his nose but then stop yourself realizing this isn’t Karl or Dream or even Sapnap this Callahan we’ve never met before you can’t just kiss his nose, or grab his hand as we walk or hug him.. He looks at you curiously and you simply play it off “You have a very nice nose” Your eyes widen realizing how that sounds “wait wait I mean this nose not your nose I mean not not that your nose is bad it’s a great nose I just ugh forget it let’s just go so if I embarrass myself anymore at least we’ll be alone”

He smirks softly nodding and holding a hand out for one of my bags, you hand it to him and smile and his smirk turns to a smile as he slings the bag over his shoulder and then holds his hand out again… You’re confused at first and go to push the handle of your wheely bag into his hand but he shakes his head and grabs your hand clasping your hands together.. You blush a light pink smiling happily as you walk off hands swinging softly, you don’t speak until you’ve made it to his car and he signs that you can choose the music. You smile softly connecting your phone to his Bluetooth and deciding to do a mix of new boy bands you liked and nostalgic songs.. You start with love song by why don’t we, you tap your hand to the beat humming a long at first but then softly singing… Callahan sneaks small glances at you smiling brightly seeing you beginning to let yourself loose.. Next comes this love by maroon five your eyes widen as you hear a tapping and then humming as you’re singing, you smile widely as you look to Callahan and see him jamming out! He notices you looking and blushes and stops but you shake your head and giggle “Don’t stop it’s okay I like it maybe we can harmonize together” He smiles a bit and nods, you begin singing again and he taps to the beat and then begins humming once more and in no time you’re harmonizing.. The song ends and you glance at each other wide smiles on your faces and light pink hues dusting your cheeks… You begin to just let a random playlist play different songs ranging from toxic by Britney Spears to The right stuff by new kids on the block plays but then hey Stephen by Taylor swift pops up and suddenly the lyrics come flooding into your mind and you blush brightly quickly skipping it, it’s too early to be playing that, it’s too early to be thinking of Callahan like that and making it so obvious… Luckily for you just before the lyrics really start you’ve made it to Callahan’s house..

Calla quickly hops out and helps you grab one of your bags his other hand grabbing your free one as he leads you to his door.. As you step inside you glance around smiling it’s very clean and simple sure it definitely looks lived in despite what you can see by the bag of trash calla forgot to take out the cleaning supplies he forgot to put back under the cabinet it looks lived in but in a very good way in a comforting way.. You’re not scared you’re gonna ruin anything or like you’re gonna mess anything up “Calla it’s beautiful” He smiles sheepishly as he signs “It’s not much but it’s home here come here and I’ll show you your room and then show you around” You nod and allow him to continue holding your hand as he takes you to your room, once you reach your room he lets go and sets your bag on the bed and you roll your other bag beside it and you nearly shiver at first… Not because the room is cold but your hand is cold and empty feeling like you’ve been outside playing in snow without gloves on so now your hand is freezing but yet feels empty not having the cold snow in it anymore…

He signs “I’ll uh let you settle in and when you’re done you can come out to the living room and we can order pizza or something and watch some tv” You nod and smile softly “Thanks that sounds great” he nods and leaves and so you begin unpacking and as you’re unpacking you get a call it’s from Niki, you smile widely and excitedly as you pick up “Hi Niki!” She smiles excitedly waving “Hi y/n! How’s everything going?!” You sigh in happiness and content as you say “It’s going great ihihi ehe I don’t know if he would like for me to say this but he showed up at the airport dressed like his minecraft skin!” She giggles “No way?! So you still haven’t even seen his face?” Your eyes widen as you suddenly realize “You’re right I haven’t, well I haven’t seen his whole face and I haven’t even seen his hair” Her eyes widen as she says “Is he ever gonna show you his face or what’s going on with that?” You shrug softly grabbing your phone as you finish unpacking “I don’t know honestly? I’m not gonna rush him into doing anything ya know? I mean I know at some point he’s probably gonna take the mask off and he has to take the reindeer onesie off sometime” she nods “Oh yea no no I wasn’t trying to pressure him or anything I was just genuinely curious,so what are you gonna do for your first night and where’s calla’s room compared to yours?” You smile and blush a bit “We’re gonna order pizza and watch tv and his room his just down the hall from mine there’s a bathroom in between our rooms” she wiggles an eyebrow teasingly “So are you gonna cuddle during the tv watching?” You roll your eyes light heartedly “No probably not I don’t wanna make him uncomfortable but then again I don’t know.. maybe… because well…” you pause blushing more hiding your face in your hands as you try and wipe the absolutely love sick look off your face but you’re unable to, Niki’s smile can’t get any wider as she excitedly asks “What what what because what?!” You bite your lip a bit and then take a small breathe before saying “Well he grabbed one of my bags when he met me at the airport and he held his hand out so I thought he wanted my other bag but he shook his head grabbed my hand and held it… and when we were walking to his car his kept holding my hand and when we got to his place he did it again and he actually didn’t let go until he let go so I could unpack…. And you know it’s weird.. my hand has felt cold ever since he let go…” Her eyes soften and she coos softly “Aweee y/n that’s so cute! Maybe you can hold hands when watching tv or something then I’m sure he wouldn’t mind” You nod “maybe maybe I don’t know I’m just so nervous to mess up I mean we’re friends we’re not anything else and this is our first time meeting and as far as I know his first time meeting any of us so I just want it to be good” she nods “Don’t overthink! It’s good you wanna take it slow and it’s good that you’re being cautious and concerned about his needs and comfort but don’t forget your own needs and comfort okay?” You smile thankfully at her “I won’t I won’t! I’m gonna go now I don’t wanna keep him waiting any longer, I love you thank you for everything” she smiles lovingly at you “Of course darling I love you too I’m always here day or night whatever you need whenever you need it bye have a good time” you nod “I will! Bye!”

So with that the call ends and you change into some simple pajama pants and a t-shirt before heading to the living room.. Your eyes widen a bit and seeing the back of Callahan’s head seeing his shortish brunette hair, but then you smirk to yourself a bit seeing he’s stood distracted looking through the TV for a decent movie or TV show… You sneak behind him and poke his sides! He jumps and lets out a small squeak whipping around to face you with wide eyes before his eyes narrow and he playfully smirks at you but then smiles mischievously… “Ohoho mahhannn that was sohoho gohohohod” You were lost in giggles but then saw his face and looked at him and began backing up nervously “Calla… whatever you’re planning d-don’t…” He pauses faking as if he’s thought before shaking his head no and quickly running at you, grabbing you and carrying you to the couch! You squeal in surprise giggles already tumbling out “EEP CALLA Nohohoho!” He tosses you gently onto the couch and carefully sits on your waist straddling you, you cover your face whining softly “Callahahaaaaa” You hear him snicker and you squeak and flinch feeling his hands shoot towards your sides even though they never touched you… You heard a very small laugh and your smile widened as you peeked out from behind your hands and Calla was smiling widely at you lost in thought it seemed…You smirked a bit and poked his stomach and he jumped covering his stomach before his eyes lit again with mischief and his hands darted towards your sides… This time though making contact! His fingers began curiously poking at your sides and he couldn’t help the delighted smile on his face as you squirm back and forth between his poking fingers, soon pokes turn to scribbles and scribbles to squeezes and you’re left laughing your heart out gasping for breathe but you wouldn’t have it any other way… Suddenly a knock is heard interrupting your laughter as Calla pauses and you both realize the pizza is here! Calla swiftly hops off you and runs to the door to pay before you can even manage to collect yourself enough to stand, let alone make it to the door.

Calla already knew all your favorite toppings seeing as you shared most of the same favorite toppings, he came back to the living room carrying two big pizza boxes, a medium box and a very small box… You went to the kitchen and began grabbing you and Calla drinks and plates and by the time you got back Calla already had everything ready to serve and had on the aristocats! You smile fondly at him setting your drinks down as your hand instinctively in a way gently cups his face as you run your thumb along it, he shivers slightly at the coldness of your hand and you giggle “sorry I forgot my hand would be cold, anyways you didn’t have to turn this on we could’ve watched whatever you wanted to” he shrugs softly before his hand comes to cup yours pushing it further against his face as his other hand signs “No you’re the guest so you get first movie choice and since I already know all your favorites and you’ve been talking about wanting to watch this one for weeks we’re watching this one okay?” You smile slightly wider as you nod “Okay whatever you say Calla, I’m not some kind of royalty though so don’t treat me like it okay? I’m just y/n I’m nothing special” even though you may not have necessarily meant to sound so self deprecating or depressing it still hurt Callahan deeply to hear you talk about yourself like that he sighed quietly as he gently removed your hand from his face and in a gentle movement cupped your face with both his hands as he closed his eyes for a few moments before opening them again he did not expect this to happen so soon but he’s gonna follow his gut… He shakily open his mouth saying “y/n p-p-please don’t t-talk a-about yourself like that… you’re even better than royalty honestly… You’re one of the best things to ever happen to me in my entire life and I’ll forever be grateful for you and I… well I… I hope you feel the same… Can I um? Am I allowed to? Is it okay if I?….”

You’re stuck in shock for a moment processing hearing his voice for the first time ever, it’s so nothing like you ever expected yet also somehow it fits him perfectly and you wouldn’t change it at all after finally recollecting yourself you nod and close the gap between your faces… Your lips connect and it’s almost like you feel a little explosion in your stomach like hundreds of mini fireworks went off…The fireworks increasing as he cups your face with both his hands…After a few more seconds you each break apart smiling at each other while blushing bright red… You look at Calla curiously “so um what does this mean?” He shrugs softly his voice a bit scratchy because it’s not used much at all “Well what do you want it to mean?” You shrug back “Well I mean I’d like it to mean something special… I’d like it to mean we’re a thing honestly but I don’t wanna rush you or rush things I mean this is our first time meeting this is literally my first night here and we’ve already kissed… Which I loved the kiss don’t get me wrong I loved it but I guess just for now it’ll be a kiss and nothing more? We’ll just give it the rest of my time here and see at the end of the week to see how we feel? And we’re definitely not going to tell anyone because it’ll make it all harder agreed?” He nodded laughing softly at the last bit “that sounds good and yes I definitely agree, um I know I like just started using my voice but can I go back to signing my throat is actually getting really sore” Your eyes soften as you nod “of course! Never feel like you have to talk to me okay? Don’t force yourself I’m just fine with us using sign to communicate though your voice is really nice to hear don’t feel pressured or insecure or anything I lo-I um… I…” His eyes widen a bit as his blush darkens and he signs “You what? Why do you almost never say you love me?” You sigh softly glancing away before staring at your lap “Because it’s not the same and I was scared… I didn’t wanna say it because when I say it to you I don’t mean it how I say it to everyone else and I just it didn’t feel right saying it to you so much and it being something completely different” He holds your hand gently rubbing his thumb on your palm making you giggle softly and his eyes soften as he uses his free hand to say “It’s okay I get it and I appreciate it now actually knowing why you didn’t say it and I lo- you too!” You smile and roll your eyes light heartedly squeezing his side “You’re such a nerd dude” he squeaks at the squeeze narrowing his eyes playfully and you smirk “You know I still haven’t gotten my revenge yet…” His eyes widen as he backs up and begins to try and stand as he signs “Y/N don’t do it…”

My eyes are widened as I’m backing up seeing the mischievous glint in y/n’s eyes as they say “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t” I sit for a moment trying think of one and just shrug, they snicker “Welp I don’t see or hear you giving me a good reason” With that they begin scribbling on my sides and despite my best efforts to hold back I can’t and I break into giggles that near soft laughter the closer to my ribs or hips they get! They definitely notice because soon after they move one hand to my hip squeezing and kneading as their other scribbles up and down and inbetween my ribs! I let out the most embarrassing squeal before falling into loud laughter! I attempt to squirm away from them but as they hit a couple particularly sensitive areas I actually fall off the couch sending us tumbling the two of us in an out of breathe heap on the floor.. We both groan softly and then giggle “Like the view? Cause I kinda like my view” They scoff and lightly slap my arm before getting off me and pulling me up, I pull them into a hug and they seem worried at first and tense maybe thinking I’m gonna tickle them again but they sigh contently as I fall gently back onto the couch with them keeping my hold on them as I press play on the movie… Y/n falls asleep about half way through the movie and I don’t have the heart to move them so I simply turned on another movie and soon fell asleep my own self..

#Callahan x reader #x reader fic #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader

[highsviolets]

waterfall inquiry: javier peña x reader

pairing: javier peña x young analyst!reader

summary: words should not make you feel so much.

warnings: age gap. kissing. and - the worst of all - f e e l i n g s. (soft ones)

a/n: [edited 10 June ‘21] this was supposed to be three parts...and now there’s more. I regret nothing :) 

[next] [series masterlist] [main masterlist] * gif: @anakin-skywalker​

“Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name”

 “as kingfishers catch fire” | gerard manley hopkins

Neither of you should be here. Strictly speaking, at least.

The Embassy maintains regulations about these sorts of things, you’ve heard in jagged claims that coat the walls in a sickly iridescent sheen. Not the pretty kind that makes glitter sparkle. No, it’s the perverse shine — pyrite and oil spills on tepid water and those cheap kaleidoscopes they sell at county fairs.

Everything, it seems, is whispered here. Here at the Embassy, anyway; Colombia itself is a messy, irreverent place. A dreamlike people, an altered state where God acts as the intermediary between man and demons, not angels.

Perhaps that is why the Embassy is always quiet. The shrill clang of a phone ringing makes everyone start, fearful of keeping demons at bay. Even the PR reps speak in hushed tones, the words soft and soothing like cotton balls dipped in baby oil gliding across skin — crafting press releases each word slotted for a specific purpose, hand-picked with evolutionary precision.

It harasses you, stinging pricks drawing blood from beneath the surface of your bronze skin. Words should move freely, you believe. Like the way the Mississippi runs in during the spring melt: coarse, unimpeded, roiling in caught light, caressing the riverbanks as it soaks up all the world gives it — thrusting forward after a winter fraught in immobility, reveling in flinty purpose.

There’s a difference between words of fabrication and phrases of culled authenticity — the ones that stream from bleeding hearts, bound tightly by shoves and glares and hands that can’t keep still. Hands that grasp for something tangible. Anfractuous reminders of why they must be so careful, why they must keep the truth of themselves limited to brief instances of throwing back light or heat.

There is one man, you know, who thinks like you do — and he laughs at the fact that your jobs depend upon other people being careless with their words. Bandying about locations, codenames, numerals, what to buy at the grocery store. You can almost hear him, that marmalade voice spreading over you, eyes gleaming in smoke and fervor: yeah, carelessness gives us both a job. But it hurts, too.

Tonight, though. When you both are here when you really shouldn’t, you really fucking shouldn’t, not when you’ve been dreaming about him for…for how long? How long have you been in this country that makes a mockery of verisimilitude? Long enough, apparently, for everything else to blur when you look at him, for you to have memorized the way his shirts pull tight over his back when he’s leaned over his desk.

Eyes climb up the length of his torso, the slope of it heightened by the way he’s bracing his weight on his hands. His palms are spread wide and god as much as you think you want to stop the way your mouth runs dry at the sight his large palm, you can’t.

A sigh leaks out. The man in question spares a glance your way, matching the twist of his neck to the cigarette he brings to his lips. “You alright?” he mumbles around the thing, and you grip the desk’s edge a little harder at the sound, at the sight, of him in his element. His exhale — a finely tuned purse of the lips, discreetly directed away from your work — should feel the same as your sigh, but it doesn’t. It washes over you instead, and you rock in the way his existence ebbs and flows in and out of your person. Easy. Like breathing. Like all you have to do is breathe, and he’ll be there.

There are stories about him. When you had been sent down to Columbia as a junior analyst after the death of Escobar, you had quickly dived into the mythos the man. How could you not, when he was everywhere, the scent and swagger of him drawing eyes from every corner of the barricaded building?

The others — the replacements, someone had once termed the batch of new personnel flooding the country to fight Cali — had told you the stories; where they had heard them, you weren’t sure. Huddled over tepid drinks in the bar after work, blazers shrugged off and shirtsleeves rolled up, you had let them regale you of how he fought for years to bring down Escobar, only to be in Miami when his partner did the deed. How he fucks his informants; although, one of them admitted with a sigh, he hadn’t been known to do that in a while. How he was ruthless in the pursuit of justice. A fucking legend, man, someone had crowed about the older man, tongue loose with overpriced alcohol.

And through it all, there was you, eyeing the man himself across the bar. The embrace of his hands against the whiskey glass, the way he barely shuddered at the consuming burn of the stuff when he tossed it back in a behavioral gesture. He seems sad, is what you had thought. Whatever opposite of sad existed in this opulent measure of time by which you both abided — that’s what you wanted to do for him. To make him not-sad. He is aged, perhaps, but not old, rather like someone who could be young if they could shed the pallid skin of responsibility.

But you can’t play God in this country of fallen beings. Being consumes you instead, devolving into an obsession, hanging onto the ledge of yourself — gripping humanity and slicing rocks and graphite that stains your skin even as it slides away, too smooth to be held in hands that ache, swollen, from typing up reports detailing the tumbled-gravel sins of humanity.

He likes you. You think he might, anyway. He consults you before any of the others, and once or twice he’s dragged some Columbian officer into your tiny workspace, asking you to confirm the intelligence on whatever operation he’s desperate to get approved so he can do something. He asks with words that curl up and over themselves like whitecaps, one hand resting on his hip as he nods along to your recitation.

But it’s really his eyes you watch in these moments, aching in fluttering hope whenever they rest on yours. Javier Peña’s eyes when he visits you in your workspace are pleading thermoses of life under sterile fluorescent lights. He likes to send you a half-smile and a nod when you’re finished, tossing them over his shoulder as he escorts the man back to the Ambassador’s office. You are both too good at your job not to love it in some sick & twisted way, and he knows.

Other times he simply drops by. Leaning against your cubicle, he fiddles with a cigarette and chats with you as you work, asking questions that he knows he’s the only one examining.

Talk to me about the families of la cartel de Cali, he mutters, the hoarse sound deep and aching in your gut. About their mothers, daughters, sons, cousins, in-laws. Is anyone sick? Do they want to go on vacation? What’s the drama of the week, no, don’t laugh, — he smiles, here, barely, the delicate minutiae of the expression an external revelation of his magnetism — there always is in families. They’re human just like us. And that’s when he sighs, and looks across the hall, where in his office there’s a diagram of the Cali bosses splayed over the wall. Yeah...they’re like us.

Javier makes a slowly forms a habit of it, of stopping by your cubical and wrapping you in currents of charisma and truth. He does you a solid, too, bringing you to the attention of your superiors when he mentions your diligence. And you repay him in kind, taking care to slip into his office with new intelligence before the brass gets word. You tell yourself it’s simple mentorship. Mere patronage. He’s paying it forward, helping the young analyst get ahead in their career. These meetings are nothing to him, and they ought to be equally as empty to yourself. It’s just exchanges of information. Conversation between colleagues.

Of course, that doesn’t explain why you look forward to his fingers touching yours when you lend him a pen, or, when he makes some half-whispered joke in Spanish, it makes you shiver. Or the pride that blossoms in your chest, embracing you all soft and balmy, when he considers your words. He handles them like he does his favorite cigarettes, rolling them between his fingers, palming their weight, letting the texture seep into his skin before he lights them on fire.

You drop your pen a lot; he brings a finger to his mouth in thought. You don’t see the way he smiles when you do that, grinning at the muttered curse and roll of your eyes. And he decides that he likes the way you laugh about it; poking fun at your own mistakes, the skin that matches his own gleaming in the warm sun.

He can never do that. Perhaps he should? But he doesn’t make mistakes like that, toss-away interruptions of intended action. The mistakes he makes get people killed. All the more reason to keep checking with you, he reasons, to double-insure the intelligence. Can’t have another mess. And he likes to hear your laugh. Nothing wrong with that, he says. Nothing wrong with something that makes his heart stir and entices the eyes hidden behind yellow aviators to trace the length of your neck a little longer than strictly necessary when you throw your head back in unmarked joy.

And tonight, in his office? Tonight he seems melancholic again, like the first time you saw him across the bar. He keeps shifting his weight, one hand on his hip, and then on the table, and then shrugging off both his jacket and his tie and tossing them unceremoniously onto the couch, limbs extending listlessly. It’s as close to careless as he gets.

Or maybe it’s just the exhaustion fusing into you both. You feel slow and hazy, torn between staring at him and bleary eyes glaring at the map beneath his fingers. if you just look at it longer, you think, you can will it all to fall into place. and maybe if you did he would kiss you, and maybe he would kiss you the way he has always wanted to live.

Maybe if you traced your tongue along his exposed collarbone, penning of licks of hope in the space where his words seem to get caught, where his perpetually open collar leaves him defenseless to an onslaught of physical impressions…maybe then, he’d exhale in blessed adoration, taken outside of himself for just one moment.

He’s asking you a question. You alright? He does that a lot, you realize. Checks in with you. When you answer, he laughs — those delightful eyes seeping warmth into your weary bones as they crinkle in a smile — and he reminds you to call him Javier. He — Javier — has rebuked you at least three times tonight alone, but you’ve yet to oblige his request. If you do, if you let your tongue caress his sacred name and rest in its life-sodden weight, you fear…

you do not know what you fear. you do not know how saying his name will shift the tides in your life. but you know that you will remain forever anchored to him, tethered to his lunar opacity.

“What’s this?” you ask instead, shifting to rest against the desk. You’re beside him now, hip adjacent to his as you look up at him. Latent smoke hovers overhead, and locks of his hair have come undone after the long hours of work and now rest over his forehead small waves. It looks like it aches, being so out of place, and yet so distinctly him. Caught. Destined to arch over his tanned skin, all the while lingering in a place where it should not. Not here, anyway. Not tonight, in his office, far after everyone else has gone home.

“What’s what?” Javier rejoins, distracted, still bent over the desk, still bracing his weight on those fingers.

Rustling papers catch his attention, and he twists to meet your gaze. “This.” You point to the unfamiliar word, stamped out in standard font. “My Spanish is decent, but I’ve never seen this word before.”

The wrinkles behind the shield of his fallen hair press together as he cranes his neck, adjusting his stance to read the word on the paper you thrust in his direction. It clears rapidly though — the visage sailing and unfurling itself when he absorbs the story hidden in-between letters on a page.

He repeats the word back to you, leaning into the sound the way he leans into you, inching closer in his explanation. You stare at his lips, completely captivated — his tongue catching between his teeth — the purse of his lips — the rearrangement of his jaw as it conforms to the aerodynamics of structured syllables.

“Strictly speaking,” he says, eyes roving your face, deep and dark, “it means elf, or spirit. Something ethereal. It’s used in stories a lot.” The words are smooth, smokey, whiskey-like as you let them drip down your skin, the insides of your thighs. “Entiendes?”

Your body temperature rises. You can feel it — the way your mouth’s run dry and the paper’s slippery in your grip. Did his voice drop lower when he used the familiar form of the verb, not the formal? You think it did. Oh god, he’s so close, he could just extend a hand across your body and it could rest on your hip. You had never really noticed his height either, always in heels. Tonight, though, the heels are in the corner with his jacket and tie and you realize that he’s inches above you, yet somehow still within reach.

“What’s” — you swallow thickly, desperate to remain professional despite your wide eyes, the tongue tracing your lower lip — “what’s the non-strict definition of the word?”

He gives you one of his trademark smirks. “It can also mean,” he says, “enchanting. Charming. For someone or something to be magical.”

Nodding slowly, you drop your eyes down to the paper again, desperate to avoid his gaze. It follows you, watching your eyes hide even as you adjust to be ever-closer, a bare foot extending outward and brushing against the fabric of his dress pants. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Say it,” you hear him urge, your head bolting up, incredulous. And you try, you really do, but it’s so new and unfamiliar and you’re so goddamn nervous with him looking at you, that you fuck it up. Words are but the vessels by which emotions themselves are expressed, so maybe the act of speaking should not make you feel all by itself. But it does — oh, god, it does, and you feel like you’ve shrunk in the process, dwarfed by this man with rolled up shirt sleeves wrapped around muscular forearms, who grins impishly around his cigarette.

“Not quite.” He stubs out the thing, and to your surprise, brings hand to your jaw, cupping your chin in-between his thumb and forefinger. “Say it again.”

“No, I can’t; I..“ you protest, and for what? because you don’t want him near you? no, that’s not it, but you’re being branded by his touch all the same.

“Say it again,” he commands again, more gently this time, his words accompanied by an encouraging nod.

You comply readily, sounding out the syllables. His strong fingers manipulate your movements, guiding you in pronouncing the difficult phrase. It’s forceful and noble, a tender yet compelling influence that teaches you how to wrap yourself in the meaning of the word as much the word itself. You’re tingling; is it from the thrill of achieving or from his sturdy hand against your bare skin?

He doesn’t back away when you’re finished speaking, but holds your stare. Dimly, you register the steady crescendo in your breathing. He’s not immune to your proximity either: his Adam’s apple bobs as he pushes down the deficit of hope flooding oppressive maxim of his presence. Times stretches as you remain caught in his hold, coursing through you, carrying you downstream in brash, coarse recklessness. Are the emotions you swim in those eyes yours, or his, or some measure of both?

The pads of his fingers migrate, drifting to rest along your cheek and tumble into his touch like a moth to flame, or fish to water, or whatever trite phrase people use to make sense of such profound belonging.

Javier is mesmerized with the way his fingertips trace your cheekbones, the shell of your ear, along your jaw, returning to outline your lips.

“Tell me to stop.” His voice scrapes along your bliss, and you force your eyes open to see that he’s moved even closer, closer-than-close, so tight against you that you’re nearly leaning back over the desk.

“Do you want me to?” His eyes are dark and still now, but for the way they’re trained on yours as you whisper fate into existence.

“No — fuck — I shouldn’t, I —“ his jaw shifts again, this time in agitation, but it is you who does the deed, cutting him off, reaching out to tug on his collar. The action pulls him forward, pressing himself against you, caging you between the desk and the broadness of his firm chest.  And you do know it’s firm now, at last slipping your hands underneath that truant fabric and gliding along his smooth skin. His hands find your waist, gripping your hips as he meets your lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

He — Javier, now — kisses you a single-minded intent, letting his lips slide over yours lazily, over and over, memorizing the imprint of you against his mouth. One hand drifts upward again, cupping your cheek as he tilts your head slightly, letting his tongue delve into your mouth and trace your teeth. It makes you gasp, and you retaliate with a gentle nip to his lower lip, silently begging for more. Javier moans into your mouth, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure through his body.

Tightening his grip on your waist, Javier lifts you, placing you firmly on the desk, feet dangling a few inches from the floor. You know what he wants before he even has to ask and you give it him readily, wrapping your legs around his waist. Javier’s weight conforms to your own, molding against your body as you press into him, back arching in your submersion to his touch.

He is so eager; his kisses drench you in a deluge of incubated affection interspersed with need. Grasping at his shoulder, you pull him even closer, your other hand anxiously fiddling with his buttons as you sigh, reveling in the storm of his attention. Slowly, painstakingly, driven by a clamoring need for oxygen, he drags himself away from you, parting slowly, ever-loth to break the kiss.

You can’t help the shy smile that dances around your lips when you look up at him, standing above you. His chest is heaving, out of breath, hair somehow even more mussed than it was before. You suppose you can touch it now, so you do, two fingers brushing aside the fringe on his forehead.

Time, and space, and whatever else this stuff is made of have prevented from this alternate reality. until now. it has broken through the dam and caught you up in its awakening, broad and unrepentant.

Javier captures your hand as it lowers, pressing a kiss to the side of your palm. He’s so tender it makes you ache, and you wonder if this is why he stopped fucking his CIs. He requires something more intangible than what they could give him. “Javier,” you whisper.

He hums a question, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles as he watches you consider him, emotion lapping at the shores of unkempt eyes.

“You asked me to use your name. Earlier, I mean.” Should you feel embarrassed? Kissing a man several years your senior? Maybe you should. But you don’t. There’s a cordial warmth spreading through you, bolstered by his gentle touch, the outward connection of him and you that’s been built through months of inanimate remembrances.

“I know.” Javier nods and leans in again, his breath rippling across your skin. “Can you say it one more time, princesa? They say you need to do something three times” — a kiss to your cheek — “to make sure you really —“ a kiss to your forehead — “understand” — a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

The words fall out of your mouth, splashes of unrestrained affection dappling each letter. “Duende, Javier,” you murmur against his lips. “Duende.”

javi tags: @frannyzooey @yespolkadotkitty @rentskenobi @goldenkenobi ​ @goldafterglow @teaofpeach ​ @justrunamok ​ @huliabitch @cri-me-a-river @littlevodika @catsnkooks @themarvelousbear @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @ladytrashbird @princessxkenobi @roxypeanut @dracos-jedi-marvel @a-seeker-of-imagination​ // taglist link in bio!

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x reader insert #agent peña x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #YES I NOW HAVE THREE JAVI SERIES #DON'T @ ME #I HATE IT TOO OKAY #i simply have no self control when it comes to him #it's f i n e #this was supposed to be!! 800 words!! #and now it's over 3k!! #what the fuck!! #cris write something without meta challenge #i listened to glamour child on repeat writing this #and it definitely shows #whoops #fic: waterfall #cw age gap #alkskd is this fic even coherent tho #bc idk #?!!? #usernobie #cris writes #highsviolets #filthybookworm

[g4rous]

Sunlit memories (Garou x Reader)

tags: fem! Reader, no warnings lol, this is just the first chapter a.k.a the introduction

words: 1.1k

notes: ok so this is the first chapter of the series that I plan to write, so pls feel free to give me some feedback on this and whether you like it and should I continue :'0 💕 Thanks a lot for any kind of support ee 💗

series masterlist

Chapter one

Playful footsteps scattered across the freshly-cut grass, followed by a few equally spirited barks. Whether the small chocolate-colored dog was chasing the ball or the children lay undetermined, nonetheless they all seemed amused. A mother stood next to the gleeful dog owner, both exchanging chuckles and commenting on how adorable the sight in front of them is. Above them dozens of birds filled the air with a familiar amicable tune, as if the soothing music coming from a nearby café wasn’t enough. The park was never lonely, yet so pleasant at the same time. All those chirps, chatters and noises were like an extra spark, and frankly it’d be rather uncanny if it weren’t for them and the pastel sky above, radiant with soft hues. Cases where belligerent monsters ruined the harmony were rare, although enough to cause one to succumb to unease. Be that as it may, people always push through it and find a reason to enjoy the now sunlit park.

Though, while it was interesting to observe the scenery it wasn’t quite what you were looking for. Fiddling with the pencil in your hand, you stared displeased at the blank page of your sketchbook.

“Why isn’t there anything interesting today?” you pondered, eyes impatiently shifting over the scenery.

Almost every day for the past few weeks you’ve been sitting at this very bench, looking out for something eye-catching to draw. It’s funny how you coincidentally came across your now daily go-to place, a surprisingly comfy wooden bench underneath two large oaks, their treetops creating enough shade for another twenty people. Luckily you had your own peace there without anyone bothering you.

“Hmm… Maybe I just don’t feel like drawing people?”

After a small sigh you leaned against your hand and looked up at the treetops. The sky turned golden already, painting the leaves in shades of olive and amber. Your eyes steadily trailed down to the path next to the old oaks, now noticing a small patch of lilies that with their vivid hues and delicate form drew you in almost immediately.

“Huh. Maybe I should just go for something simple and quick?”

Well, that was what you though right before something else caught your eye. Someone to be exact. A few meters away a rather peculiar-looking guy sat on a bench. He leaned against the bench leisurely while folding his arms, his tight black shirt complementing his muscular built. His gaze was relaxed, albeit alert, and his features were sharp. Sunlight peeked on his wild, silver hair, coloring it with subtle sandy hues almost matching with the golden in his eyes.

Now, if this didn’t give you inspiration then what did? And here you thought you’d be drawing those lilies. You sighed in content, stretching your arms for a few seconds before you got to work. Subtly glancing at his direction from time to time, you had already outlined the portrait. Though, truth be told, he had such a pretty face you were trying not to stare at one point.

“What are you doing?”

You didn’t even manage to let go of your pencil before an unknown voice jolted you out of your thoughts. Much to your bewilderment you looked up to see that same man now only half a meter away, glaring at you.

“Well shit.”

Should you apologize or straight up act like you weren’t just secretly drawing some random person? Or better yet, how the hell is that same person in front of you right now? You were embarrassed as much as you were confused and to make things worse the drawing wasn’t even in your sketchbook anymore.

“Are you a hero or something? I don’t remember seeing you anywhere.” the man asked, shifting his gaze from the drawing in his hand to you.

“Hey when did you take that?!” you finally spoke, an apology being far from your mind at the moment.

On one hand it could be legitimate since you didn’t ask for permission to draw him in the first place, but on the other… What kind of punk would just rip the piece out like that?

“If you’re some c-class dunce trying to gather info on me with this-“, he grinned, still analyzing the art piece “-you’re gonna be sorry pretty soon.”

“Dude I’m not a hero.”

“Wait, what?”

That threatening, cocky grin of his from a moment ago dissipated into thin air like it was nothing, but your confused expression on the other hand only grew bigger. Was he serious?

A soft shade of pink made its way to his face for a brief moment, to which you almost chuckled.

“So you’re seriously not a hero?”

“Um, no..?”

“Your luck.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” He headed the opposite direction of you, drawing still in hand.

“Ahh so… can I get that back now please?” you walked behind him, surprised he’s oh so casually trying to leave the scene after such odd behavior.

“Nope, sorry.”

“Aw what, why??”

“Let’s just say it isn’t convenient for me at the moment to have that lying around wherever,” he put both hands in his pockets, “plus I didn’t say you could draw me did I?”

Now your face turned red in embarrassment again. He was right… Though, you still couldn’t help but wonder who this strange guy is. While tearing that drawing out of your valued sketchbook didn’t make for the best first impression, his demeanor wasn’t really belligerent either.

“Ah, sorry about that… However I must say it wasn't polite to take the drawing away like that either.”

His eyes slightly widened in embarrassment before turning away his face again.

"Eh..."

"Don't worry about it though," you smiled for a moment, "I guess it was just a weird misunderstanding or something."

Your eyes shifted on the path you were walking on, already dim because of the now darker sky, “if I may ask, is someone like… searching for you or something?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he glanced back at you, “why are you still following me anyway!? Just go home it’s getting dark.”

“Well, this is the way I take in order to get back home so you can’t really complain,” you smiled to his mild annoyance.

The night sky engulfed the city by now, leaving behind a tranquil atmosphere. Nonetheless, compared to the center of the city, your street wasn’t as bustling. Light shone from the surrounding apartments and lamp posts, and the only sounds present were from the neighbors’ TV’s or the occasional car passing by, much in contrast with the city’s center and night life.

You didn’t ask many more questions as you walked, despite the faint haze in your mind. The man obviously wasn’t too chatty, yet alone keen on sharing any personal details. Be as it may, much to your surprise what you thought would be an awkward walk was actually somewhat refreshing. Hell, you even let out a laugh or two together. Who would’ve thought the on-first-glance intimidating teen is pleasant to be around? Or, well, at least you thought of it like that. In any case way better than walking through those dark alleys alone.

next chapter

#feel free to tell me your thoughts 💕 #garou #garou x reader #opm x reader #opm #one punch man x reader #one punch man #garou headcanons #garo

[yellowsuitcase]

In the Prefect’s Bathroom Part 3 // Draco Malfoy

A/N: Hi guys! I’m so excited for y’all to read this. This series has gained a lot of traction and tbh it’s a bit scary but I really hope you guys like this. There WILL be a Part 4 and it WILL be the FINAL part! Look forward to it! Thank you so much!

Summary: Y/N deals with the aftermath of her breakup and Draco comforts her. The pair grow closer and Draco can’t ignore his feelings, but is Y/N able to accept them?

Warning(s): Swearing, mention of breakup, lots of crying, violence

Word Count: 3.8k

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

{Not my gif}

Y/N didn’t know where Harry had gone. Three hours had passed, and he'd never come back to his dorm. Y/N knew she ought to leave. She couldn’t stay in his room, not anymore. Luckily, it was Saturday, which meant no classes. Y/N slid off Harry's bed, the same one they'd cuddled on almost every week, and walked over to his mirror. Her reflection didn’t surprise her; her hair was knotted, and her eyes were bloodshot from all the tears. They hadn’t ceased until an hour after Harry left. While letting out an exhausted sigh, Y/N rubbed her hands down her face. She just felt so disappointed in herself. And not to mention her newfound sense of loneliness. It was crippling.

But when she felt well enough, she stepped away from the mirror, walked through the wooden door, and all the way down the familiar stone steps. The closer she got, the louder the voices were. Of course, she thought. It's Saturday; it makes sense that everyone would be in the common room. Once Y/N was near the last few steps, she could see fellow Gryffindors hanging out by the fire while others were doing their schoolwork. But when Y/N emerged into the room, all conversations quieted, and all eyes turned to her. It seemed as though word of the breakup had already reached their ears. She did her best to block out the whispers and avoid eye contact with anyone as she continued walking to her bedroom. Once she arrived, she was surprised to find that her roommate was inside.

“Oh, there you are. I was wondering when you’d be back,” she said. Y/N stood still in the doorway for a moment, debating whether or not to reply. Ultimately, she decided she didn't have the energy to fake a smile. Instead, she stumbled to her bed and collapsed on top of it, face first. “Did you get breakfast?” her roommate, Stephanie, asked. Y/N groaned in reply. Of course, she didn’t get breakfast; she wouldn’t be able to stomach anything in such a state. Stephanie stood near Y/N's bed, wondering if she should say or do something. Eventually, she decided she was uncomfortable with the tension in the air. “Well, I have some Charms homework, so... I’ll just… leave you to it,” she said awkwardly. Y/N heard her footsteps, then the sound of their door opening and closing. Tears instantly rushed to her eyes. Not even her roommate wanted to be around her. And based on the reaction of the students in the common room, nobody did. But Y/N couldn't blame them; she wouldn't want to associate with a cheater either.

The Gryffindor turned over on her plush mattress, her back now pressed against it. Upon opening her eyes, she noticed she’d stuck a photograph of her and Harry onto the ceiling. A jolt of pain struck her chest, but she forced herself to her feet and jumped. Her legs propelled her high enough to rip the picture down in one swift motion. It felt heavy in her palms. She breathed in shakily as she examined it. Her head was on Harry’s shoulder in the photo, and his arm was around her waist. It was from one of their trips to Hogsmeade earlier that year. The Y/N in the picture was smiling brightly as Harry squeezed her tight. Y/N gripped the paper, and with tears falling from her eyes, she ripped it down the center. The sound of it caused a painful cry to escape her lips. But once her hands stilled and she saw the destruction clutched in them, her suppressed anger took over. Forcefully, she put the pieces on top of one another and ripped through them again. And again. She kept going until the image of her and Harry was reduced to tiny little shreds of paper.

Y/N then cried for a couple minutes, wetting the shreds with her tears as she mourned what once was. But when she got a hold of herself, she clutched the pieces in one hand and slid off her bed. Stephanie had left the windows open, so Y/N walked over to them and stuck out her closed fist. With a heavy heart, she opened her palm and watched as the pieces scattered into the wind. 

When all of them were out of sight, Y/N grasped the windows' handles and pulled them towards her, shutting out the late morning air. Defeatedly, she sunk into the seat below the windows and breathed in a shaky breath. She felt so broken, so stupid. Even though Harry hadn’t been the perfect boyfriend, Y/N knew she was the one who fucked up; she was the one who cheated. And despite everything that happened between them, Harry didn’t deserve that. Not at all.

--------

Later on in the day, Y/N’s hunger finally got the best of her, so she dragged herself out of bed and cleaned herself up. She threw on a comfy sweater, a simple pair of sweats, and pinned her hair back with some clips. It was late in the afternoon, surely the Great Hall would be nearly empty as it was Saturday. At least, that was what Y/N was hoping for. The idea of the entire school staring at her made her feel uneasy. But she shook the thought away, grabbed her wand, and headed out the door. The people in the common room, once again, looked up upon her arrival but said nothing. Y/N could feel their judging stares on her back as she rushed through the archway, closing the Fat Lady portrait behind her.

The hallways were pretty deserted, save for a few wandering Slytherins. They were always rather fond of slinking around corridors. Y/N paid them no mind as she walked down the stairs to the Great Hall. It was, as she suspected, nearly empty. The Gryffindor table was clear except for some first years. Y/N started to walk towards it when her elbow was grabbed. She instinctively whipped around and wrenched her arm from the person’s grip. Her heart clenched when she saw who it was. 

“Hey… I heard about you and Potter,” Draco said. He looked sheepish as he fiddled with a loose thread hanging from his dark green sweater. 

“Is that all?” Y/N almost whispered, her voice scratchy from all her crying. 

Draco’s eyes seemed sad when they met hers. “I… don’t know what to say. But I do know that if I were you, I’d want someone to check up on me, so...” he paused, looking away from her. “Are you okay?” he finally asked. Y/N stared at him for a moment. She was not expecting those words to come out of Draco Malfoy’s mouth, but when they did, and when they registered, she couldn’t stop the sob that fell from her lips. 

Draco froze in shock. He had definitely not been expecting the girl to burst into tears right in front of him. But now that she was, his instincts screamed at him to comfort her. It was just...he didn’t quite know how. Draco was unfamiliar with girls. All he knew was how to have sex with them, and usually, that was a fun activity with no strings attached. Well, except with Y/N. Something about her was simply different from the others. The first time they did the deed, he’d pushed away the fuzzy feeling in his chest. The second time, however, he cleaned her. He cleaned her. Usually, he’d leave the girl to do that on her own time, but for some reason, with Y/N, he had taken it upon himself to fulfill that gesture. And not to mention the fact he kissed her. Twice! Granted, they were only on her temple, but they were still kisses for Merlin's sake.

But here he was, facing the girl responsible for all his confusing emotions, and she was crying. Draco glanced around the hall and noticed people beginning to stare. He shot them mean glares without thinking twice. They averted their eyes. When he turned back to Y/N, he found that she was looking at him. Her eyes held so much sadness that they made Draco’s heart physically hurt when he looked into them. So he did what his mother would always do when he cried. He lifted his arms and gently took Y/N into them. She hesitated at first but then buried herself into his chest, still heaving heavily with sobs. Draco rubbed her back in a soft, soothing motion. But then he quickly remembered where they were, so he put down his right arm, leaving his left on her back, and led them out of the Great Hall. 

Once in the corridor, Draco wasn’t sure where to take Y/N. He couldn’t take her to his common room. His housemates would likely be doing all kinds of illegal shit, and he didn’t want to surround Y/N with that while she was in such a fragile state. And, of course, her common room wasn’t an option since Harry and his friends would probably be there. It was too dark to go outside, and they wouldn’t be able to talk properly in the library. Draco was beginning to panic, but then it hit him; the Astronomy Tower. It was one of his favorite spots, and it was relatively likely that no one would be there. He wrapped his arm tighter around Y/N and began walking towards the tower. 

After a few minutes of walking and climbing the long staircase, the pair came to the top and shuffled into the Astronomy Tower. Y/N’s cries had died down already, she was only sniffling now, but Draco still kept his arm around her. “Why are we here?” she asked. Draco said nothing; he only walked them over to the railing. Y/N stared at him, perplexed, but Draco remained silent as he turned his nose up towards the sky. He loved looking at the stars. They reminded him how small and insignificant he truly was. And for someone like him, who had what felt like the weight of the world on their shoulders, it was comforting. 

When he was finally able to tear his eyes away from the sky, Draco dropped his arm from Y/N''s back and turned to her. She, too, had been staring at the sky. But when the blonde faced her, she tilted her head towards him and raised an eyebrow. Draco cleared his throat as his fingers found that loose thread. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked. Y/N scoffed. “Talk about what? How I’m the shittiest girlfriend ever? Or rather, was the shittiest,” she asked, her eyes shifting back to the stars. Draco sighed. “Well, I’m at fault here too, you know…” he said. Y/N rubbed her fingers on her forehead; she looked exhausted. “Draco, I appreciate it, but I made the decision to have sex with you. I knowingly and willingly cheated on Harry. You may have been the one I did it with, but that doesn’t put you at fault for my actions.”

“But I knew you were—,” Draco cut himself off with a sigh. “Well, why’d you do it then?” he asked. Y/N gave him an unimpressed look. “I already told you why. He didn’t satisfy me in the bedroom. Point, blank, period.” Draco shook his head. “But you obviously loved him, so why did you go through with it?” he pressed further. Y/N said nothing as she sunk to the floor and stuck her feet out so that they dangled off the edge of the tower. Draco didn’t join her initially, but after a minute or two, he sat down beside her and leaned his arms against the lower rung of the railing. Y/N played with her fingers anxiously for a bit before responding. “I guess…I felt like he and I were growing distant from each other. We stopped going to Hogsmede, we stopped studying together, we just...stopped,” Y/N said quietly, her voice deep and rough from her tears. “But that doesn’t make it okay; nothing makes it okay.” Draco’s eyebrows furrowed together. He could hear the pure pain in her voice, and he didn’t know what to think of it. All he knew was that it made his fists clench and his heart squeeze. 

Draco gazed at the girl beside him. She was so beautiful in the moonlight. Her skin looked soft. He so wished he could reach out and stroke her cheek, but he knew that would likely put her off. Instead, he unclenched his fist and wrapped his hand around hers. He felt her jump slightly upon feeling his touch, but then, she smiled at him. God, how he loved her smile. It made him feel warm. He wanted to share that warmth Y/N, so he scooted close to her. Their shoulders were now pressed together. He gazed down at her, studying her face. “How do you feel?” he asked tentatively, not knowing quite where the question came from. Y/N hummed and replied with one word. “Alone.”

“Well...for what it’s worth, I’ll be here if you need someone,” Draco replied in an uncertain tone. He still wasn’t really sure what he was doing, but he trusted what his gut was telling him. And it seemed like it was the right thing to say because out of nowhere, Y/N’s arms wrapped around Draco’s neck, and her body pressed up against him. Instinctively, Draco returned the hug. He pulled her close and nestled his face in the crook of her neck. Nothing was okay, not yet, but at the very least, they now had each other. 

-------

A few weeks later…

Draco twirled his wand between his fingers while he strolled through the stone corridors. He had a free period this school year and would often spend it by riding his broom around the quidditch pitch and trying out new tricks. He was on his way there now. He’d even asked Y/N to meet him there, considering she too had an open slot in her schedule. 

After their night at the Astronomy Tower, they started spending lots of time with one another. They played gobstones, hide n seek around the castle, and had recently begun studying together. Surprisingly, the two of them had become pretty good friends despite having only started talking about a month ago. But when Y/N had mentioned to Draco that she hadn’t ridden a broomstick since first year, he had insisted she join him for one of his joyrides. She resisted at first, but Draco promised her he’d let her choose another activity for the two of them and that he wouldn’t protest, no matter how stupid he thought it was. He was quite proud of himself for thinking up that one. Truth be told, Draco had gone soft for Y/N and would probably do whatever she wanted to do, but she didn’t need to know that.

While Draco was walking down the corridor, he heard the faint sound of laughing as well as a thud. It seemed like it was coming from ahead, so he increased his pace. When he turned the corner, he was surprised to find Y/N sprawled out on the floor with some Gryffindors standing above her, snickering. “What a piece of shit. Fucking slag,” one of the girls spat. The rest of the group laughed at her words and even began to kick Y/N’s sides. Draco felt anger rising in his chest. How dare they. How fucking dare they. 

Without thinking, he ripped his wand from his pocket and shouted, “Stupefy!” A shot of bright light flew towards the group. It knocked them off their feet and into the air. They each landed with a loud thump, but Draco couldn't care less. He ran over to Y/N just as she was getting to her feet. “Are you alright?” He asked her as he scanned her body, looking for injuries. Y/N nodded, but it was clear that she was frightened. Before he had the chance to comfort her, Draco’s attention was taken by the sound of a soft chuckle. He looked past Y/N to see the Gryffindors back on their feet. 

“Would you look at that? The man-whore came to save you Y/N. Why don’t you drop to your knees for him and give us a little show?” said a tall, light-haired boy. Draco’s shoulders heaved with fury, and he raised his wand again. “Draco, no!” Y/N shouted desperately, but the Slytherin was already casting the curse. “Petrificus Totalus!” Draco bellowed. Instantly, the boy’s body froze in place and fell over, causing his head to hit the stone floor. His friends jumped to his defense, raising their wands towards Draco, ready to strike. But Draco was smarter. He pointed his wand towards a pile of books on a nearby bench and whispered, “Oppugno.” The books quickly shot into the air, and with another wave of Draco’s wand, they were directed towards the two remaining Gryffindors of whom were confused at first. However, when a book slapped one across the face, they realized these objects were attacking them. Hastily, they scrambled for their previously discarded items, grabbed them, and bolted down the hallway, screaming as they went. 

Once they were gone, Draco marched up to the frozen boy lying on the floor. He glared into his eyes and lifted his foot. “Draco, don’t you dare,” Y/N warned as she followed after him. But all Draco could see was red. There was no way he'd back away from the chance to give the boy a taste of his own medicine. So, he pretended he hadn't heard Y/N, and rammed his foot into the Gryffindor’s side, just as he had done to Y/N. “Stop!” Y/N shouted. Draco continued to ignore her. He kept slamming his foot into the boy with absolutely no remorse. But to his dismay, his rampage was stopped by Y/N grabbing his arm and yanking him backward. He flailed for balance as he stumbled back. “Draco, that’s enough,” Y/N stated firmly before she quickly cast the counter-curse, effectively freeing the boy. He jumped to his feet, shooting daggers at the two of them. “Just go, Jack,” Y/N mumbled. The boy hesitated, but an angry look from Draco ultimately sent him on his way. 

When Jack was out of sight,  Y/N let go of Draco. “What the fuck was that? You could’ve seriously hurt them!” she yelled. Draco gaped at her, absolutely shocked. “They were hurting you! I was only giving them what they deserved, those arseholes. How dare they call you such things; who do they think they are?” he grumbled. 

Y/N sighed softly and rubbed her fingers against her temple. “By doing all that rubbish, you only proved that you’re no better than them. You should’ve just let me handle it,” Y/N retorted, trying to get her friend to understand. But Draco was not having it. “Y/N, you were lying on the floor getting kicked. I had to do something. I couldn’t just watch you get harassed—”

“Well, you know what, Draco? Not too long ago, you were the one harassing me, or did you forget?” Y/N screamed, her eyes welling up with tears. 

Draco paused. He didn’t know what to say; she was right. He only watched as Y/N rubbed her eyes and mumbled, “Fuck,” while she slid to the floor, her back against the wall. “You always treated me like shit Draco. Always... And besides, they were giving me what I deserved. I cheated on someone, and if that isn’t deserving of kicks and harsh words, then I don’t know what is,” she said sadly, her face in her hands. She couldn’t see that Draco was adamantly shaking his head. “Don’t say that; you didn’t deserve any of that bullshit,” he said through gritted teeth.

Y/N’s head shot upwards, and her fists clenched. “That’s rich coming from you. Since when did you become my protector, huh? You hated my guts a month ago, did you not? Why the fuck do you even care, Draco?” she shouted angrily, her eyes boring into Draco’s back since he had turned and begun walking away from her in frustration. But then, suddenly, he spun back around. “Because I like you, okay!? It’s because I like you.” 

A few awkward seconds passed before Draco found the courage to look up from the floor and to Y/N instead. She was staring at him with a look of panic on her face. The dreadful feeling of guilt began to swirl in Draco’s stomach. Nevertheless, he breathed in deeply and started walking over to his friend. She said nothing as he neared her, but when he crouched down beside her, she turned her head away from him. “Y/N...” he started. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I just...I couldn’t stand to see you hurt. I acted on my anger without thinking, and for that, I apologize.” 

Y/N maintained her silence. Draco took a chance and hesitantly put his hand on top of her knee. When she didn’t push him away, he continued to speak. “Y/N, I really like you, and I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I know that sounds cheesy and probably a bit unbelievable, but I promise you it’s true,” he said while stroking her knee through her corduroy pants. She still didn’t meet his eyes, but Draco was in too deep, and he didn’t know if he’d get another chance to say this. So he inhaled sharply and spoke his thoughts into existence. 

“I think I want to be with you, Y/N.”

For what felt like hours, neither teenager said a word. Draco’s heart was pounding nervously in his chest. He felt like he might cry if she didn’t reply. But then, she turned her head. By the look on her face, Draco knew whatever she had to say wouldn’t be good. Y/N glanced at his eyes momentarily but couldn’t keep the contact. “What is it?” Draco asked gently, trying not to upset her but also wanting her to break her silence. Y/N breathed in deeply and scooted her feet forward, causing her legs to straighten and Draco’s hand to leave her knee. He pulled it close to him, feeling as though he’d been punched. 

“Draco, I..." she started. “I can't. I’m not ready for a relationship, not after Harry. I’m sorry.”

Draco felt his hands begin to shake. This couldn't be happening. “Y/N, please, I promise I—”

“No, no, I can’t do this, Draco. Not right now,” Y/N said firmly as she got to her feet. Draco stammered to find the words that would convince her to stay, but she was already breaking into a run. All he could do was watch as her figure grew smaller and smaller as she traveled down the corridor. Draco considered chasing after the girl he wanted so desperately, but he knew he had to let her go. He closed his eyes, regretting his decisions. When his eyelids reopened, she was gone.

Taglist: @beiahadid @pastelpuffbar @cutie1365 @dracoxmgg @lumlfy @sambucky8 @emilianamason @orangecrayon​ @obsssedwithjustaboutanything​ @hustlinhufflepuff​ @goddessofgames @dracocanslytherin8​ @superbturtlemakerathlete​

#draco lucius malfoy #Draco #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy x yn #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy imagines #draco x you #draco x gryffindor!reader #draco angst #draco fluff #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy smut

[harryhandstan]

so..I hate that this is so late but happy to finally have this done and be posting it for y’all! hope you enjoy! thank you to my betas @tbslenthusiast, @serendipitystyles, and @summertimestyles​ you’re all angels!! also sham was so kind to help me create a playlist for this fic which you can find here!

this is for @taintedwonder​‘s Styles Valentine’s Day fic challenge and most of the photos from the header were my inspo along with prompts 3. Can you just hold my hand? and 6. Let’s run away together.

as always any likes, rbs, replies, and feedback is welcome and very much appreciated!

word count: 4.1k

writing tag | masterlist

You can read his face before he even opens his mouth to speak.

“You have to leave again, don’t you?”

He doesn’t answer at first, just joins you where you sit on the bed, an arm around your waist to urge you closer to him. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, as if that will soothe the sting of what he’s about to say. He buries his face into your neck before he speaks.

“Only for a little while, angel.”

You don’t respond by returning the kiss like you normally would, narrowing your eyes down to where he’s hiding his face, “How long is a ‘little while’?” 

“You could always come with me, y’know..” 

He’s avoiding the answer and he knows it, eyes darting up only briefly to look at your face. 

“How long, Harry?”

He’s fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt now, focusing on the loose thread hanging instead.

You nudge him lightly, pulling his attention back up to you, “Just say it! How long?”

He sucks in a big breath before releasing it and then the words come out in a rush, “A few weeks, possibly a month.”

You have to take your own deep breath before asking, “When do you have to leave?”

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

“Promise.”

“My flight’s on the 14th.”

“February 14th? As in we don’t get to spend Valentine’s Day together?”

“M’so sorry, love, I really thought we were gonna get to spend the day together.” 

He’s pulled back from where he was hiding his face, studying yours now. It hurts him to see the disappointment written there; the pinch in your brow, the downturned corners of your mouth, the way your eyes have temporarily lost their shine and fallen misty.

“Ya really could come with me, y’know. Take a bit of time off, would do you some good to take a break.”

He knows better, knows it’s just a fantasy that you would ever be able to get that much time off from work to be able to travel with him.

“C’mon, love, let’s run away together.”

The way he’s looking at you know, it really wouldn’t take much more convincing to turn his fantasy into a reality.

“What am I gonna do when I’m cold and don’t have you as my personal heater to help me get warm?”

“S’why I left you my pillow to snuggle with. There’s a ton of extra blankets too, use as many of those as ya need.”

How could you explain that no amount of warmth from any blanket would ever compare to his? A blanket wasn’t capable of softly brushing your hair back from your face or tenderly pressing it’s lips to yours as you drift off to sleep. You open your mouth to try to illustrate such facts, but you close your mouth just as quick. You aren’t trying to be difficult or clingy, and you don’t want your last bit of time together to be filled with your complaints.

That thought only lasts for a moment, your anxiety building with each mile closer to the airport, “Well what do I do when your pillow doesn’t smell like you anymore?”

“I’ll try to be back before that happens, deal? Besides, you’ve got a whole drawer of my t-shirts to sleep in too. They all smell like me, right?”

“They do, but, Harry..what if..”

“Shh, hey, we’ve been through this before, right? S’gonna be hard for me to be away from you too, but I promise we’ll be alright. You can call me anytime you’re missin’ me, remember?”

His voice is that of someone trying to pacify a small child just before a tantrum, and you feel as though you’re being whiny and unreasonable. Missing him when he was away was almost unbearable though; everything seemed heavy and dimmer and you know it would feel like an eternity before you were together again. 

“Promise we’ll make up today the second I come home. You plan the whole day and just tell me when and where to show up, okay?’

The fact that it was Valentine’s Day didn’t matter so much to you. You and Harry made it a point throughout your days spent together to express your love to one another whenever you could, so today was really just..another day to spend together. So it’s missing him that has tears forming in your eyes again, just as they had the night before.

“Can you just hold my hand? Until..” You don’t finish the sentence, letting your voice trail off so he won’t hear it break.

“‘Course I can, baby.” He offers his hand, never taking his eyes off the road even as he lifts your hand to his mouth to place a kiss to the back of it.

Though you know he would never admit to it, you swear you feel the speed of the car slow just the tiniest bit, Harry wanting to add as much to your limited time together as he can.

Despite it still being light outside, coming home to the space you normally share together alone makes you want to do nothing but crawl right back in bed. It’s mid-afternoon and with Harry not home to motivate you to do something more productive, that’s exactly what you aim to do.

After dropping your purse and keys near the door and double checking the locks, you’re startled by the sight of a bouquet of bright pink roses adorning your dining room table. They definitely weren’t there when you left, and you pluck the small card nestled between the flowers with your name scrawled across the front. It’s Harry’s almost illegible handwriting and the sight of it makes your heart soar with excitement before you flip it open to read the message. 

It’s simple and small, more of his writing scratched across the cream colored paper in bold, black ink. Love, love, love, H. There’s a badly drawn heart underneath the note, and that makes you giggle out loud, filling the silence. If Harry were here, he’d have some cheeky comment about how adorable your laughter is, how he loved the sound of it.

“Don’t want you moping around the whole time m’gone, yeah? Promise me y’ll do more than just sulk around the place until I get back?” This reminder was given just before he’d had to rush off to catch his plane, giving you no time to offer him much more than a quick peck and a sad smile as an agreement. 

So technically what you plan to do would not be considered breaking a promise, just..catching up on the sleep you would’ve gotten if you hadn't had to wake up so early to ride with Harry to the airport. Normally that was something you would decline to do, preferring to sleep in, which Harry usually was fine with; but this time he had insisted on you accompanying him on his drive, wanting to get as much time with you on this day as he could. 

Just as you're about to venture down the hallway to the bedroom, you spot another item you’re sure hadn’t been on your coffee table earlier that morning when you’d left. It’s a medium sized box, messily wrapped with red paper and tied with purple ribbon and a bow. It’s quite heavy when you lift it, so you sit on the nearby couch to avoid dropping it. You waste no time tearing the paper away, lifting the lid to reveal a candle surrounded by tissue paper. 

There’s a pack of two lighters wedged next to the candle, and you curiously pull it from the box first to see more of Harry’s handwriting on a red sticky note. 

Baby you light up my world like nobody else...

That pulls another laugh from you, this one is bigger and echoes through the dimly lit space. The candle itself is a scent he knows you love, and you bring it closer to your face and inhale deeply. The smell of it helps ease even more of the unease and sadness of him being gone. You dig your phone out of your pocket to check the time and try to calculate whether his plane has landed and he would be able to answer a call from you. 

You ultimately decide to nap first and give him a chance to get settled. He would most likely be calling you later anyway, missing you just as much as you missed him and wanting to hear your voice. You could thank him then for the flowers, candle, and the laugh. So you continue your journey to the bedroom, slipping out of your clothes and sliding open the drawer of Harry’s t-shirts. He’s right, they do all smell like him and you run your fingers along the soft fabrics before selecting one. 

It’s plain white, one of his undershirts normally tucked beneath his expensive button ups and ruffles, but today it’s perfect and comforting attire to doze off in. It’s loose and just long enough on you that you don’t feel the need to put on a pair of your pj shorts with it, The bed is still messy from the morning, and you swear you can still see the outline of where Harry’s body normally tucks next to you on his side. You pull the blanket back and crawl into your usual spot, but it doesn’t feel right; it’s too empty and quiet without Harry. 

You grab his pillow from his side and try your best to replicate the way you would curl yourself around him if he was here. It takes a bit of time to adjust, but eventually you give up and just try to relax into the mattress as much as possible, covering your head slightly with the blanket to surround yourself with warmth.

You peek through the space uncovered to the alarm clock on the bedside table on Harry’s side, the bright red letters read 12:32 p.m. and you let out a deep sigh before drifting off to sleep. If you weren’t so tired, the thought that crosses your mind might just make you laugh again.

Alone in bed in the afternoon on Valentine’s Day. What a shame. 

You wake with a start, bolting upwards at the sound of your phone ringing loudly from somewhere near the bed. You don’t even bother to open your eyes to see who it is, just following the motions to answer and plop back down onto your spot as you let out an almost breathless and groggy “hello?”

“Not missin’ me too much, I see, took you a whole minute to answer,'' You know he’s joking by the hint of amusement in his voice and relief floods through your chest before any other feeling at the idea of him making it safely to his destination, “You alright, love? Sound a bit outta breath. Having some fun in our bed without me?”

“I..no, I was napping, promise, your call just scared me awake..how did you know I’m in bed?”

“I’m only teasing. Just a guess, figured you’d find your way back to the bed not long after you got home.”

“Found the flowers and the candle. Your note on the lighters made me laugh, thank you. How’d you do that though? They weren’t there when we left for the airport and you didn’t come back in.”

“Had one of my assistants drop the flowers off, and the candle’s been stashed in the closet for a week so she set it out for me while she was there. Wish I could’ve been there to see your face and hear that laugh,” He giggles at the thought of it, “S’that all you found? The flowers and the candle? I assume you found the one in the bathroom too, right?”

You’re more alert now, sitting up again to try to process what he’s saying more easily, “What do you mean? There’s more? The bathroom?”

“A few more, yeah. Hid here and there for you to find.”

“You left me a scavenger hunt? Do I at least get clues to help me find them all?”

“I’ve just given you one, haven’t I? Might be persuaded to give you a few more later.”

You’re up off the bed now, making your way to the bathroom where another surprise awaits. You hesitate for only a moment, stopping just as you reach the door.

“What’s in the bathroom? More flowers? One of those big, fluffy teddy bears?”

“M’not gonna tell you! You gotta go in to find out!”

Flipping on the light switch has you gasping at what you see. A heart, entirely made from more red sticky notes, each one embellished with reminders of his love for you. You stumble over words, trying to form a coherent response.

He senses your shock even through the phone and graciously gives you a moment before asking, “S’the heart all wonky or does it look nice? Told them to make it as straight as possible.”

“H..it’s beautiful! How did you have time to write all these before you left?”

“Finished up most of them last night after you fell asleep. They came to me a lot easier with my muse snoring next to me.” 

You truly don’t know what to say to that. You’ve never had someone be so bright and loud with their love for you and just this simple expression makes you feel so incredibly special and loved.

You know that emotion is flowing through the phone when he speaks again, softer and lower, “Y’sure you won’t let me fly you out here to be with me?”

There’s the sound of another voice before Harry barks out another laugh, “Jeff says m’proper miserable without you. He said he’d pay you whatever your salary would be for the next month just to have you here.”

“Tempting, but..” Harry knows how much you love your job and how such a long absence would jeopardize the career you’ve built, so you know he probably won’t mention it again.

“Technically it was gonna be part of my present for you, so..I’ll give you another clue.”

“How very generous of you, H. Will this one make me cry too?”

“Maybe. Knowing you, probably,” You roll your eyes but listen for further instructions, “Just remember I had to rush and there’s still a few I didn’t get to add but, go get your laptop.”

“What’d you do to my laptop?”

“Would ya just go get it? C’mon I’ve gotta hang up soon and I wanna hear your reaction before I hafta go.” 

“Alright, I got it. What now?”

“Go to your music library.” He gives you a moment to navigate through your programs, “Should be a playlist there with your name on it, lovie. Wait, are you already crying?”

“Shut up! Yes!” You wipe at your eyes with the hem of his t-shirt you’re still wearing as you try to read over the list of songs, “This is so sweet! The flowers, the candle, the heart and now this. Harry..I didn’t get you anything and you did all this for me. Thank you, I love you.”

“Love you more,” You can just picture the smug smile on his face, pleased that he’s done a good job of surprising you, “You can make it up to me later.” 

“Don’t push your luck there, H. You’ve just been forgiven, I still have time to change my mind, you know.” 

“I know. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” You hear what you assume to be Jeff’s voice again in the background, “I gotta go, babe. I’ll try to call again later, alright?”

“Wait! I don’t get any more clues? Can you at least tell me how many more are left?”

“S’no fun for me if I give away all my secrets now, is it?”

It’s only a day later when you find yourself in the kitchen, uncertain about what to make for dinner, eyes scanning over the ingredients in your pantry. Your laptop sits on the counter nearby, and you hum along to My Girl playing through the speakers, a song selected for you by Harry for the playlist he recently made for you.

You’re about to give up and heat up your leftovers from the Italian take-out you had treated yourself to the night before, when you spot the pack of Haribo gummy bears wedged in the corner. You almost have to stand on your tip-toes to reach it, and when you run your hand along the shelf you find another bag of sweets not far from the gummy bears. You smile down at the two bags, his favorite candy and yours sitting side by side.

There’s another of Harry’s red sticky notes on the pack of gummy bears: Being away from you is unBEARable. More of his cheesy jokes you’re sure he thought of himself. Your candy is void of any words, just another messily drawn heart, this time with your name in the middle. 

You decide to FaceTime him this time, wanting to see his face. It only takes 3 rings for him to answer, a tender “Hi, baby.” falling from his lips. The room he’s in is dimly lit, but you can still see him well enough to notice his hair is damp. His curls are more pronounced than usual, which was a sign he’d been too tired to much more than probably run his fingers through after his shower.

“Found another of your surprises.” You hold the candy up for him to see and he smiles.

“Better save me some of those Haribo, and not just all the colors ya don’t like either.”

You tear open the bag, sticking your tongue out at him before popping a few into your mouth, “I might, if you tell me where all the other surprises are.”

You can see him temporarily consider it, biting his bottom lip and meeting your gaze before he shakes his head, “Nah. I will tell you there’s only one more though..well, depends on how you look at it, but to me they only count as one.”

“They?”

He mimics locking his lips, and you decide to drop it for now, knowing you would most likely have to trick or beg him to tell you later. You’d let him think he won. For now.

You roll the top of the bag of candy down, opening the cabinet to tuck them back into the same corner you found them in. They just didn’t taste the same without him there to enjoy them with you. Plus you still had a still had leftover garlic knots and mushroom ravioli you planned to dig into later.

“S’that the playlist I made for you? Sounds like it.”

The song has changed to At Last, Etta James’ voice filling the small kitchen, “Yeah. I love this song.”

“Me too. Reminds me of you now..my love,” You sway a bit to the music before stopping, leaning forward to where your phone is propped on the counter, “Wish I was there t’dance with you.”

You try your best to hold back your emotions of missing him, but you imagine how he would rest his hands on your hips if was here. How he would spin you to face him and move his hands to rest on your back while he led you around in a slow circle across the floor. It wasn’t just his hands you longed for, it was the way he would bend to your ear to sing along to whatever song you were dancing to, especially one like this he knew you loved. You missed his voice in person, the way it would surround you with a comfort and peace you’d never be able to replicate with anything else. 

No matter what you do you can’t stop your thoughts from trailing to how when the song was over, he would lift you to sit on the counter and kiss your forehead. You’re wearing one of his hoodies tonight, and you pull the sleeve down over your hands to use to try to quickly wipe away any tears before he sees them. Once you feel you’ve reined in your emotions to the best of your abilities, you clear your throat before speaking again.

“I miss you, H.”

“I miss you too, angel.”

The music has changed again, Don’t Worry Baby by The Beach Boys lifting the mood enough you don’t feel so heavy and overwhelming with your yearning for him. You take a deep breath, planning to ask him about his day, but before you have a chance he says, “Go to your bedside table. The top drawer.”

“What?”

“M’tryin’ to tell you where your last surprise is. Go to our bedroom and look in the drawer. I’ll wait.”

You flash him a smile before turning to make your way out of the kitchen, through your living room and down the hall to your bedroom. It takes a bit of searching before you uncover a stack of bright, pastel colored envelopes tied together with the same purple ribbon as the candle from the day before. You work quickly to untie the knot and turn the lamp on so you can read the front of each one. There’s 4 total; open when you need a laugh, open when you miss my hugs, open when you need a reminder of my love, open when you miss me.

You tear into the final one immediately, setting the others aside for later. It’s not very long, the perfect length to boost your spirit even further. Just the thought of him taking time to sit down and write his expression of love for you makes you grin, and has that same feeling of being loved spreading through you as it did the previous day when you saw the heart on the bathroom mirror.

You had almost forgotten leaving him on hold in the kitchen until you hear, even from 3 rooms away, the sound of him singing along to whatever song is playing now. You close your eyes, picturing for a moment that it’s a typical night when he’s home, darting around the kitchen while he makes dinner or puts dishes away.  

You make your way back through the house to him, envelope in hand. Each one had been a different color so the second he sees which one you have his eyes brighten, his smile growing bigger the closer you get.

“Of course you opened that one first. Did y’like it?”

You shake your head no, breaking into a laugh when you see the look of disappointment on his face, “I loved it. Very charming of you to do all this just for me, H.”

“Yeah? I did a good job surprising you then?”

You roll your eyes. This man and his need for praise was too much, but he was yours, and you were his and you would do anything to assure him that you loved him just as much as he loved you.

“You did an amazing job, really, Harry. I never expected you to be able to do so much so last minute.”

His mouth drops open in mock dismay, looking down and shaking his head, “I can’t believe you would ever doubt me!”

You don’t say anything, just shake your own head at his teasing, sharing a look of adoration before you look away.

“Hey, did I leave my lip balm there? The coconut kind I use before bed? Thought I had it in my duffel but I couldn’t find it when I got here.” 

“Yep. I used it earlier when I got out of the shower. Want me to send it to you?”

“Nah, you don’t have to, but..you could bring it to me in person if you wanted.” 

“I would if I could, Harry.”

The tone of a new text from your phone startles you, and you try to suppress your elation as best you can at who it’s from. It’s Jeff, confirming the time of your flight he’d helped you schedule for the following day. Harry knows you too well, would instantly be able to read your face and be suspicious of what you were up to. You step away from his line of sight to let the thrill run through you, to let it fully wash over you so he wouldn’t see. You return as quickly as you can, brushing it off as if you’d just gotten a text from your boss or a friend. He was oblivious, none the wiser at what you were planning.

It was your turn to surprise him. 

#stylesvdaychallenge #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing

[missfangirll]

If im not too late, I'd request anything for Beiyuan/Wu Xi. There are so few works out there for them :c

So, I wanted to write some XiYuan fluff and somehow ended up writing Dad!Beiyuan bonding with Chengling, Beiyuan thirsting after his husband and a sort-of-fix-it for WoH episode 36?? 😅

The plot follows the show, after episode 36, but their shared past in the novel (Qi Ye) did happen, if that makes sense? 😅 Sorry for the confusion.. The title is a Chinese poem called 蝶恋花 by Liu Yong.

Anyway, here's some XiYuan fluff/dad!Beiyuan/WoH fix-it? 😂😂

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Fandom: Qi Ye, Word of Honor Rating: General Relationship: Wu Xi/Jing Beiyuan, Jing Beiyuan & Zhang Chengling Tags: Fluff, Bonding, Beiyuan thirsting after his husband, Fix-it of sorts Words: 2565 Summary: In an inn, Jing Beiyuan and Wu Xi, together with Zhang Chengling, await the return of Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing, who have run off to die on a mountain. Beiyuan has to care for Zishu's disciple, while being distracted by his husband.

Read on AO3

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Butterflies in Love with Flowers

Jing Beiyuan has plenty of practice waiting.

He has waited for sixty years at the Three-Life Stone, has waited for Helian Yi for six lifetimes. Has waited in the Imperial City for his schemes and machinations to bear fruit, has waited for Wu Xi. He has plenty of practice.

Which doesn’t mean, however, that he is a patient man.

Jing Beiyuan paces the inn room he shares with his husband, deliberately walking closely past Wu Xi who is sitting cross-legged at the low table reading, looking entirely unperturbed. Much to Jing Beiyuan’s dismay, that is to say, so he brushes Wu Xi’s back with the seam of his sleeve every time he walks by.

Wu Xi doesn’t react for a while, but after the sixth turn, without saying a word, he casually grabs Jing Beiyuan’s sleeve and, turning slightly, pulls him down in his lap, effectively trapping him there with both arms tightly around him.

Jing Beiyuan is a lot of things, but he's not an idiot, and he would never let an opportunity pass to cuddle his husband. With a deep sigh, he settles into the other’s embrace, leaning his head on Wu Xi’s broad chest.

“I am worried,” he admits eventually.

Stroking his hair soothingly, Wu Xi just hums in quiet understanding.

"I'm worried about the two idiots on the mountain," he adds, as if that wasn't obvious, and Wu Xi, as expected, doesn't reply. Jing Beiyuan continues, unbothered by his husband's lack of reaction. "I keep telling the little idiot," here he pauses to marvel at the fact that he distinguishes his companions merely by the grade of their idiocy, then sighs inwardly, "that his shifu and shishu are fine, that he should focus on his training in order to have something to show his shifu upon his return, but sometimes I…." He trails off, snuggling closer into the other's neck.

Zhang Chengling isn't coping well with the fact that both his mentors left with the intention to die on that mountain, albeit with different purposes in mind, and Jing Beiyuan has had to forcefully stop him from climbing that mountain himself, twice by now. For now he seems to have begrudgingly accepted his fate, although Jing Beiyuan can see his outbursts of anger for the fear they are.

He inhales deeply, willing his thoughts to calm down. All they have to do now is wait, wait for Zishu and his little maniac to return safely, and return they will, he has no doubts about it. He can’t, for Chengling’s sake.

A knock on the door interrupts the silent moment and with a groan, Jing Beiyuan clambers out of his husband’s lap to open the door, while said husband reaches for his abandoned book. The elderly innkeeper in front of him doesn’t spare a glance at Jing Beiyuan’s slightly ruffled hair, fiddling with the cap in his hands. At the other’s raised eyebrow, he bows so deep his forehead seems to touch his knees, and Jing Beiyuan has to bite back a grin.

“Yes?”, he asks magnanimously. The man shifts uncomfortably. “Your highness,” he begins, but Jing Beiyuan interrupts him with a hand on his shoulder. “I am certainly not worthy of such a noble title, my good man, just call me Lord Seventh, and speak freely. What bothers you?”

The other man bows again, not as low as before, but it still looks uncomfortable. “Your lordship,” he begins, and Jing Beiyuan sighs, hearing a slight huff of laughter from behind. Wu Xi knows of his resentment against his past life and the decorum it entailed. “Your lordship,” the man repeats, sounding increasingly desperate. “Your, umm.. The young master… He… The courtyard…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but Jing Beiyuan has a vague idea of what he is trying to say, so he just nods and breezes past the innkeeper, who hastily shuts the door and scrambles to follow him.

From the inn’s inner courtyard he can already hear a dull thudding noise that grows louder as he approaches. In the yard, next to a small wooden shack, he finds the source of the noise: Zhang Chengling, gracelessly hitting the timber wall with a training sword, his face and back sweaty, his hair in disarray, his mouth a thin line. Jing Beiyuan nods to the innkeeper, who retreats to another building, then slowly approaches the boy, keeping his distance from the sword. Leaning on the wooden wall, he stays silent, observing Zishu’s disciple. The boy has grown a finger’s breadth over the last weeks, his body starting to stretch, his face about to lose the softness of childhood. He has seen a lot these past months, Jing Beiyuan muses, and feels infinite fondness for the little idiot.

Zhang Chengling has seen him, of course, but doesn’t make any move to stop his grim assault on the shack, so Jing Beiyuan says after a while, “You might want to use a real sword when you intend to put a hole in that thing.” His teasing doesn’t gain a reaction, however, the boy still hacking away at the wood. “Chengling,” he says after a while, softly, gently, “they will return.”

“I know,” comes the strained reply, but the beating doesn’t stop. The hits seem to grow less forceful, though, and Jing Beiyuan inches closer. “If Tian Chuang had succeeded,” he adds quietly, “we would know.” He looks directly at Chengling who stubbornly avoids his gaze, but his movements slow further, until he swings the sword like a flag bearer his banner in a parade. Jing Beiyuan carefully closes the distance, intercepting the last swing with his hand, gripping the wooden sword. He notices its shaking, and it’s only a heartbeat before Chengling collapses into his arms, letting go of the sword and wrapping both arms around him in a desperate embrace. Jing Beiyuan lowers the sword, then enfolds the boy in his arms, a hand on the back of his head, and lets him sob quietly into his shoulder.

“I miss them,” the boy snuffles into his robes, his face hidden. “Sometimes I dream about them, dead and cold, buried under all that snow and I…” He hiccups, then starts sobbing again. Jing Beiyuan breathes slowly. A few days after Zishu, and then the Ghost Valley Master, ascended the mountain, there had been news of an immense avalanche that had buried a large group of people, presumably the joined forces of the Window of Heaven and the Scorpion King. But nothing had reached them since, and all of them had grown restless, even Wu Xi, even though he would never admit to it.

A hand on the boy’s back, Jing Beiyuan rubs soothing circles. “Come with me,” he says at last, “Let’s go inside and have some tea, hm?” A nod, then Chengling takes a step back, sheepishly rubbing his red eyes. “‘m sorry,” he mumbles, but Jing Beiyuan just huffs. “Never be sorry for how you feel,” he admonishes gently, putting an arm around the boy’s shoulder, subtly scooping the wooden sword up with the other hand. “Let’s have some tea and sweets, what do you say?” Chengling sniffs again, then says with the hint of a smile, “Didn’t the Great Shaman explicitly forbid us to eat sweets before dinner?” Jing Beiyuan makes a carefree gesture, then, lowering his voice, adds in a conspiratorial tone, “We have to hide it, then,” which finally makes Chengling laugh. A lighter air around them, they stroll back to the room. (Wu Xi gives them a stern look as Jing Beiyuan retrieves a bag of sweets from his sleeve, but says nothing when they share some over tea, which Jing Beiyuan secretly finds endlessly endearing.)

⚘⚘

The next morning finds Jing Beiyuan on a bench in that same courtyard, at the other side this time, half hidden under a canopy hung with ivy. In the middle of the courtyard, illuminated by the rising sun, Wu Xi is practicing his martial arts.

Jing Beiyuan admires everything about his little venom. His honesty, his loyalty, his unrestrained emotions, but watching the other train always leaves him breathless and with a dry mouth. Wu Xi, in his usual black robes, is a sight to behold: Even under layers of cloth his broad shoulders are visible, his long black braids with the silver hairpiece, the moon mirrored in a clear lake at night. Wu Xi in his robes is a force to be reckoned with. Wu Xi without his robes, in just some black pants, is… Well. Enticing enough to make Jing Beiyuan leave the bed before sunrise and watch him train, even after being together for years and having seen his husband naked plenty of times. Still, watching him move through the forms is different. His skin glistens with sweat, making the light catch on his collarbones, his abs. His movements show a raw power, a graceful intensity that always reminds Jing Beiyuan of a large tiger. He moves silently, with deadly precision, as if he wanted to sneak up on a hidden assassin. He doesn’t use a weapon, but Jing Beiyuan knows how strong he is, how fast, and is pretty sure that a sword would only slow him down.

Distractedly petting the sable that is curled contentedly in his lap, Jing Beiyuan marvels at his husband, until Wu Xi ends his performance with a graceful vault, landing on his hands and feet like a large cat. His hair, tied back only with a simple black leather cord, falls over his face with the movement, his eyes like glimmering coals behind the black curtain. It reminds Jing Beiyuan of their early days, of the time Wu Xi wore a veil, and he himself a mask of another kind. Trying to hide the slight shiver, he smiles at his sweaty husband who now approaches him. Before he can say anything, Wu Xi steps between his knees, carefully scooping up the sable, then reaching down to cup the nape of Jing Beiyuan’s neck. With a hint of restrained power, he pulls him up and into a searing kiss. Smiling against his lips, Wu Xi whispers, “Room,” and Jing Beiyuan lets himself be pulled.

It’s still early enough in the morning that they don’t have to be overly cautious, so when they shed their respective robes - and pets, Wu Xi’s tiny green snake gets set in its cage, while the sable leaps nimbly away from the commotion - Jing Beiyuan can’t suppress a giggle at his husband’s eagerness.

“What brought this on?”, he asks, a little breathless, as the other’s teeth close over his pulse point. Wu Xi stills for a heartbeat, then bites down harder, licking over the spot, which elicits a shiver.

“You,” is the answer, and Jing Beiyuan pulls away a fraction to look at his husband with a raised eyebrow. “I can’t remember doing anything out of the ordinary,” he smirks, “whereas you were--”

“You watched,” Wu Xi breathes into his neck, leaning back in. With another giggle, Jing Beiyuan lets himself be pulled to the bed.

Later, when they lay under scrunched up covers, sated and sweaty and content, Jing Beiyuan nuzzles into Wu Xi’s chest, inhaling his sharp scent.

“Would you do that,” he asks eventually, his voice quiet. “Sacrifice your life, I mean. For me.”

“Yes,” is all Wu Xi answers, firm and without hesitation. “I would. I will. Everything.” His arms tighten around Jing Beiyuan. After a long silence, the latter says softly, “But what if I didn’t want that?” He turns slightly to look up. “What if I didn’t want a life that’s bought with yours?”

Wu Xi doesn’t meet his gaze as he replies, “I still would. I couldn’t bear the thought of being without you, Beiyuan. I’m a coward, but I couldn’t. I thought I’d lost you once, and I..” His voice breaks, and Jing Beiyuan reaches up to cup his face. “You’re not. I would like to say that I would react differently, but…” He shrugs with a wry smile. “I wouldn’t. If I could save your life by giving up mine, I would. I would, and then wait for you again at the Three-Life Stone, until you came to meet me. And maybe this time, you would be the one with white hair.” Snuggling closer, he trails a finger over the other’s chest, then places his hand on his sternum, feeling the unrestrained energy underneath. Wu Xi turns his head, then cups Jing Beiyuan’s cheek, meeting him in a slow, languid kiss.

“I love you,” he breathes against the other’s lips, “I have loved you for all your lifetimes and I will continue to love you in all that follow. Where you go, I’m going, Beiyuan.”

⚘⚘

It takes almost another month until Zishu and his little-, no, his giant idiot return. On a sunny afternoon, as if they had just been out for a stroll, they saunter casually into the inn’s dining room, and Jing Beiyuan almost drops his teacup, staring in disbelief. Before he can say anything, Zishu grins - he grins! - at him and plops down into the bench opposite him, Wen Kexing at his side. Jing Beiyuan notices in utter shock that the latter’s hair has gone completely white.

“Wha--,” he starts, but now the waiter has spotted them, hurrying over. Giving their, admittedly quite ragged, appearance a cautious once-over, he clears his throat, but Jing Beiyuan hurries to assuage him. “Whatever these gentlemen desire to eat,” he declares, probably with more grandeur than necessary, “they will receive.” The waiter hurries to nod his head like a turtle, but Zishu just shakes his head. “Just cold water,” he says, much to Jing Beiyuan’s and the waiter’s astonishment, but the latter immediately scrambles off to bring them their order.

Jing Beiyuan looks scrutinizingly at both of them, then says slowly, “Welcome back.” Zishu nods solemnly, taking Wen Kexing’s hand under the table. “Sorry it took so long,” he says quietly. Jing Beiyuan snorts. “You don’t have to apologise to me,” he gestures into the general direction of the inner courtyard, “but to your silly little disciple.” Zishu at least has the decency to flinch, looking uncomfortable. But it is Wen Kexing who speaks first. “How is he?”, he asks, and Jing Beiyuan notices the cautious fondness in his voice. Shrugging, he admits, “There are good days and bad.” After a pause, he adds, more quietly, “And good nights and bad.” Zishu nods, as if in agreement, and Jing Beiyuan’s curiosity wins over. “What happened?”, he asks animatedly, gesturing to the state of their robes, then Wen Kexing’s hair. “You were gone almost two months, and--”

Zishu interrupts him, sounding incredulous. “Two months?” He casts an uncertain glance at his companion who looks equally stunned. “Oh.” Inhaling slowly, he adds, “Well, I’d prefer to tell the story only once, so where is that useless disciple of mine?” Grinning, Jing Beiyuan gestures again to the inner courtyard. “Training.” Zishu gives him a skeptical look, then gets to his feet. Ignoring the waiter who just arrived with their order, he heads for the inner courtyard. Jing Beiyuan tilts his head a fraction, looking at Wen Kexing, both smiling slightly. Then, from outside, “SHIFU!”, and a dull thud, followed by another muffled “Shishu!”.

Smiling into his teacup, Jing Beiyuan closes his eyes. Some stories seem to have a happy ending after all.

#qi ye #lord seventh #七爷 #wu xi #jing beiyuan #xiyuan #otp: soulmates are stupid i love you on purpose #word of honor #a tale of the wanderers #faraway wanderers #wen kexing #zhou zishu #wenzhou #my writing #fanfic #fluff

[lordabovehelpme]

Let Me Try Something? - Din Djarin x Reader

This is part 3 to the Forget Me Not Series 

A/n: Thank you so much everyone who has reblogged and been enjoying this series. You guys are so sweet and I am so happy that I can write for all of you lovely people. I hope you guys like this chapter!!!

Summary: As you and Din get closer and more comfortable with one another, you try and spark more memeories. 

Warnings: mature themes, memory loss, female reader 

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

A warm weight rests around your waist, holding you to the very firm yet impossibly comfy pillow you are laying on. Maker, that was the best you’ve slept since… ever. It’s like you’re a new person. But now, as you try to piece together where you are, you realize the pillow is breathing.

Opening your eyes, even as they protest, you find yourself staring up at a sleeping warrior. His head leans on his folded arm, mouth slightly open as soft snores fall from his throat. The other arm wraps around your form and keeps you secure. Feet have entangled with your own as you lay between his legs.

Shuffling slowly up his body, you press a kiss to his cheek. Tucking yourself away in his neck, you close your eyes again and find yourself falling back into a slumber.

Your husband takes in a long breath and his hand starts to trail up and down your spine. It sends shivers up and down your body. In gratitude, you press a kiss to the spot just beneath his ear. He hums his approval and rubs his scruffy cheek against your head, much like an oversized dog.

You giggle as his facial hair tickles your skin and you roll away from him. His arms reach out for you to try and pull you back into his hold. “Hold on I have to pee.”

Groaning, his arms fall to his side. “Hurry.”

He is just as you left him, eyes closed and arms waiting to be wrapped around your body. “Good morning.” You crawl back towards him and press a kiss to his lips.

That seems to have woken him from his unfaltering slumber. He pulls you back against his lips as you start to lean away. “Morning.” He mumbles through kisses.

You move to straddle his hips and lean away from him. His muscles flutter and his eyes close as you scratch your nails down from his face, along his neck, across his firm pecs, and back up to trail along his biceps. Your thumbs press into particularly tight areas, trying to soothe out the knots and pinched nerves he has.

“Mmm, cyare.” His hands grip at your hips and squeeze when you press harder into a sore muscle. You grin, happy that you can elicit these sounds from him. But it really takes the cake when you feel something twitch beneath you. Gasping, you bite your lip and start to move your hips along his own.

Your husband's eyes open wide. “No, cyare, no.” His hands easily lift you off of him as he stands.

The sharp pang of rejection rings out through your bones. You look down at the blanket as tears start to form. You bring your knees as close to your body as you can, trying to form a ball and disappear from the world.

His eyes soften as he realizes his mistake. “No… I-... Look, I’m not ready for this. I don’t want you to think that you have to do this.”

You look up from where you had tucked yourself away, teardrops falling down your cheeks. His hand reaches out and wipes away your tears. “It’s not you. Don’t even start to think that this is your fault. I just… everything was ripped away so quickly and now we’re moving almost too fast. I just need some time to process. Alright?” You nod your head. It makes sense, it has only been a little over a week. But you can’t ignore the way your heart has crashed to the floor.

You just wanted to make him happy, to be who you were before.

“I need to go check something in the cockpit alright?” He gives you one last glance before climbing up the ladder and away from you.

***

You’re sitting right next to the mandalorian as he pilots the ship. You can’t even imagine what it must be like to be in his shoes. For someone you loved and trusted the most in life to suddenly forget every single thing about you. To be demoted down to nothing, to start over from scratch. To wake up everyday and see the lost memory of your lover.

Oh.

It would be so easy for him to just give up and leave you. Then he wouldn’t have to ever think of you again. He wouldn’t have to look at you and know what he lost.

But no, he’s stayed right along with you. He gives you everything you need and ask for as soon as he can. You smile as you remember the second night after the incident. “Can you show me where the tea is?”

He was in the middle of fuzing a couple wires together, but as soon as he heard your voice he literally dropped everything and gave you his full attention. “Tea? Yeah it’s over here.” He reaches up into a cabinet and pulls a tin can down. “Do you want some? Here, I’ll get the water started, you just go sit down, I’ve got it.”

He loves you so much.

He’s offered you so much compassion and care. Making sure every one of your needs are met. And making sure you’re okay.

Looking up at him as he pilots you see him in a new light… a softer light. Recently you have been thinking of yourself, not even noticing what this must be like for him.

“Hey, ummm, I’m sorry for this morning. I should have realized how abrupt it was and how it made you uncomfortable.”

He turns to look at you, his eyes scanning over your face. “No, cyare, you have no reason to be sorry. I just want to wait a little bit.” He reaches out and grabs one of your hands, squeezing it as he says, “I don’t want to spark any memories too sudden.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. When you giggle his face softens. “But I’m serious, I don’t want you to use too much energy too quickly.”

“You’re too good to me.”

***

The next few days are filled with the quiet routine of your lives.

You’re once again in your spot to his right as he pilots through the universe. It’s a few hours into today’s trip and you’re starting to get bored. The child is asleep down below in his hammock so you don't have anyone to play with.

Din, seeming to be in the same boat, or he just noticed your fiddling says, “It’s too quiet, how about some music?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, come on, we’ll go eat some lunch too.” He grabs your hand and leads you to the main hull. You start to prepare the rations as he flips through a hologram, pressing buttons and waving with his fingers.

A melody fills the air. It’s a tad upbeat while still not being fast. Your head tilts as your mind works. This tune… it’s almost familiar.

“Wait.” Your husband turns from the speaker to look at you. “Why- how…” Suddenly you feel the need to move; like an invisible force has pushed you into the center of the room. “Come here.” You reach out for him.

He walks over and stands opposite to you. As if on a silent cue, you take his hand and start to move along the song. As you gain confidence, you give up control and let your body lead you.

The two of you spin and dance in a way that could only be practiced for many hours. Your hand stays enveloped in his even as your eyes widen. Your feet move on their own, carrying you around and with his body.

Suddenly, memories of laughter and the strong smell of beer fill your head. Almost as clear as day, you look around you can see different mandalorians surrounding you and your husband as you dance. They all watch you in earnest, raising their filled glasses and loudly cheering for the new couple. They drink as much as they can through their straws, allowing them to not take their helmet off.

The armorer sits with some children as she points at you. She nods her head at you. It is now when you realize your arms are covered in white lace. A wedding dress.

It’s beautiful, more beautiful than you ever could have wished for. The skirt flows with your every move, intricate lace decorates and accentuates your frame. Your sleeves, tight near the top but fall into long tendrils of fabric. As you twist and spin, it follows you and makes you feel even lighter on your feet.

The song you were originally dancing too suddenly turns softer, slower. You wrap your arms around Din’s neck and his large hands grab your waist, bringing you close to him as the two of you sway along.

When his forehead touches your own, you snap out of the flashback. You’re met with a pair of curious golden eyes. They skim over your face, searching for any tell of your emotion, any twitch or pull of a muscle that signals him of your thoughts.

“I-... this song,” His eyes widen as he slowly nods his head, “this dance.” A smile forms on his lips, the dimple becoming deeper as the skin around his eyes wrinkle.

As you try and piece together the final bits of the memory, a wave of emotion runs over you, almost knocking you down in the process. The intense feeling of just pure love, so simple that it’s almost complicated. Your heart swells, threatening to push past your ribcage. A gasp rips itself from your throat.

You remember. You remember how magical the day had been, almost as if it was a dream. The smile you would try to hide, but ultimately failed to, as the two of you stood before the Armorer. The vows you repeated back and forth. The cold touch of his helmet to your head.

The happiness you felt that day was like no other. Finally, after so many years, you were able to call him yours. Even now, your cheeks hurt as you recall the eternal smile you held. The covert gladly celebrated along with you two. Laughter and cheers filled the halls for the entire night.

Tears spring to your eyes, as you think of the end of the night. Sat before him in a private secluded room, nerves ablaze as he slid the helmet off his face. As each bit of skin was revealed to you, your eyes widened. Two lips, lips crafted by the gods. A strong handsome nose. Then, those curls. Those soft brown curls that frame his face perfectly.

And finally two enchanting eyes.

Eyes that hold so much emotion. Eyes that convey a long story with a single glance. Eyes that stare into your soul, and instead of making you feel small and weak, they urge you to grow, to let him in. Eyes that you love.

“Cyar’ika… you haven’t said anything.” You recall him saying, timid and insecure.

“Wow.” It’s all you could say, because he literally took every word from your head. The perfect and exact example of speechlessness.

Once again, you are snapped back into reality when a hand cups your cheek. Closing your eyes, you shake your head slightly and return your focus onto the man in front of you.

“That night, it was so special.”

“What night, cyare? Come on tell me.” Swirls of excitement sparkle in his eyes, his voice only proving his eagerness.

“Our wedding night. I remember the loud cheers as we did this exact dance and the fierce love I held for you.”

He nods his head frantically. “Do you remember anything else?”

Smiling you nod in sync with him, giggling at the fast pace. “So much. I remember how warm your hands were as they held mine before the armorer. I remember my dress. I remember how I could feel your eyes on me through the visor. I remember that night when he went back to our room and I finally saw you for the first time. I remember how I could only say wow.”

He chuckles as he kisses both your cheeks. “You were so beautiful that day, you still are. But then, in your white dress, all pretty for me, it was amazing. I felt like I was the luckiest man alive.”

As the song slows to an end, the two of you continue swaying. He tells you stories of that day, filling in the blanks your mind didn't. He tells you how when you walked down that aisle, he felt like his soul had left his body; in a good way he assures you.

The two of you laugh as you converse about the details. Specifically him telling you it's a shame you have forgotten the taste of the wedding cake. It was “like nothing you have ever tasted before.”

Babbles sound from the ground, and when you look down you are met with the outstretched arms of the child. “Hey little guy.” You lean down and pick him up, placing him in your arms. He coos and your husband rubs one of his large ears.

His little hands slap at your cheeks as he smiles, babbling to you about something.

“I know, I did remember something. Hopefully I’ll start to remember our memories too.” You smile at the child before looking up and meeting the warm eyes of your mandalorian. “But, slowly and within our own time.”

Overjoyed with your response, your husband smiles and wraps the two of you into his arms. “I love you cyare.”

“I love you too.”

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

Next Part: Know That I Love You

So yeah, I hope you all liked it. I’ve really been enjoying writing this series! 

Please consider reblogging, it really helps me out as a smaller blog. I also just love hearing what you all have to say, it makes my day! 

Love you all, Lordy :) 

Masterlist 

Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space @jedi-jesi @coldlilheart @remmysbounty @t3a-bag @all-along-the-resolute @impala1967666​ 

If you want to be added/removed from my taglist- just give me a holler and I’ll happily do it! :) 

(Also, for those of you who are tagged, could you be a dear and tell me if it is working, becuase sometimes my tumblr is weird and wont notify people, so yeah that’s great) 

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #forget me not

[snackhobi]

pairing: jimin x reader / word count: 8.8k / genre: smut, established relationship, driftracer!au

summary: Jimin’s been pretty busy recently and you’re starting to feel neglected. Guess you’ll just have to make him pay attention somehow.

warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), unsafe driving (back at it with the street racing), cursing, mild degradation, fingering, spanking, unprotected sex (it goes without saying but please use protection guys), creampie, controlled orgasm (delay), multiple orgasms (f receiving), dirty talk, pet names

THIS IS A FOLLOW UP TO ‘CATCH YOUR DRIFT’— please read the original first

a/n: to everyone who was asking about a cyd follow-up—here it is! it’s basically a pwp with the flimsiest of plots lmao. enjoy!! x

--

“Jimin's up to something.”

“Huh?” Jungkook looks away from where he’s been fiddling with something in the Pontiac’s engine. “What?”

“Jimin,” you repeat, slowly. “He’s up to something.”

Park Jimin. Breathtaking, captivating, gorgeous Park Jimin—unstoppable in his sleek black Nissan Skyline GTR, a master in his element, relentless, incredible. Your rival and main competitor on the track. The one person who challenges you, who you measure yourself against, who you always strive to beat.

Park Jimin. Your boyfriend.

“He’s been… weird lately,” you say, uncharacteristically hesitant. 

Jungkook looks a little baffled but also concerned, eyes darting over in the same direction as yours. Jimin’s already kissed you good luck, a soft, lingering touch of his lips against yours before returning to his own car, and you’ve been watching him get ready for tonight’s race. He lounges against his black Skyline and laughs at something that Yoongi and Taehyung are talking about, looking every inch the king that he is.

Jimin is as striking and dazzling as always, jacket covered in jewels that burst outwards like fireworks, the cut of his metallic shirt low enough to reveal his collarbones and smooth skin of his chest. The only understated part of his outfit is the pair of unadorned silver hoops in his ears, simple and elegant. A gift from you that he wears every time you race.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise a little. “What do you mean he’s up to something?” 

Honestly, being with Jimin is a dream. At first you’d been concerned that your competitive natures would clash and that being opponents on the drifting circuit would cause friction in your relationship—but it actually works out really well. Jimin makes you strive to be a better person, the best you can be, both on and off the track. You’re both as invested in giving each as much attention as you do to winning races, and the truth is that a lot of the fierceness you show on the track melts away entirely when you’re alone together: it just highlights how multifaceted and incredible Jimin is.

He’s a ruthless competitor. He’s also sweet and caring and kind and he always makes time for you. 

Or at least, he normally does.

“He keeps saying he’s busy, and he seems to be distracted when we’re together,” you admit to Jungkook in a low hush. There’s no one within hearing distance of your Pontiac but you’re still cautious. Your relationship with Jimin is well known throughout the circuit now and you don’t want people overhearing intimate details about it. It’s none of their business. “I don’t know, Kookie, it’s… it’s concerning. I guess.”

You’re usually self-assured and confident but right now you sound unsure. Jungkook’s known you for years and years and is one of your closest friends, but even so, admitting this to him is difficult—and he knows it. 

Jungkook pulls the hood of your car down, shutting it with firm hands before he leans across the metal towards you. “Have you tried asking him about it?” 

“Of course.”

“What did he say?”

“We, uh, got distracted,” you say, and Jungkook makes a face at the implication.

“Maybe next time you’re trying to have a serious conversation you shouldn’t let yourself get ‘distracted’?” He raises his eyebrows as he lifts his hands to make air quotations at you and you pout.

“But his ass is just so perfect, can you blame me?”

“Okay, that’s it, I’m out,” Jungkook says while looking pained, and you can’t help but laugh.

Later, though, when you beat Jimin in the race, he lavishes attention on you like he always does—you’d barely inched out ahead of him tonight and so he takes his time when he works you up, touch light and teasing as he runs his hands over you. Your head tilts forward as you pant, bent over the hood of his car as he fingers you open, deep and slow. Just the way you like it, even if you’re hungry for more.

“Jimin, please.” Your voice is desperate as you beg and try to rock against his fingers, get him to move faster. “I need you inside me, god—”

Your words choke off when you feel a sharp smack against the bared skin of your ass, a small punishment for your impatience. You let out a gasp that turns into a quiet moan, turning to hide your face in your elbow to try and stifle the noise as Jimin’s hands immediately soothe over the touch, soft as he rubs over your heated skin.

“Patience, baby.” His voice is low. “You’ll get my cock when you’re nice and ready. Okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur, a little breathless. “I just want you so bad.”

You’re still turned away from him but you can hear the affection in Jimin’s answer as he leans forward to kiss the sensitive skin just behind your ear. “I know, sweet thing.”

Once he finally sinks his cock into you, it doesn’t take long for him to pull you over the edge, your nails scraping against the warm metal of his car as your body goes tense and you cum. Jimin follows soon after, spilling himself inside you as you shiver and clench around him, trying to draw him in as deep as possible; no matter how many times he fucks you open it never gets old, the way you can feel his body move against yours, the way he gasps and moans as he reaches his own edge, the way he holds you close as you both go lax against each other, warm and tender.

“Are you free on Saturday?” You’re perched on the hood of his Nissan afterwards, arms curled around his neck as you pull away to look up at him. “I thought you might want to come over for dinner and a film? You can choose which one we watch, I’m not picky.”

A quick expression flits across Jimin’s face, faster than you can identify, before it turns apologetic. “Sorry, baby. I’m busy this Saturday. How about next week?”

“Oh,” you say. “Okay. Um. Do you want to… grab a quick lunch instead? Or something? When you’re free?”

Jimin turns his face into your hair, nuzzling into your scalp before he kisses the crown of your head. “I think I’ll be busy all weekend, but I’ll let you know, okay?”

You pause and try to hide the surprising amount of pain and confusion that shoots through you at his subtle dismissal, schooling your features before Jimin pulls away to look at you. “Okay baby,” you say brightly. “I hope you have a good weekend, either way.”

Jimin cups your face gently as he smiles at you, all warmth and open affection before he dips down to softly kiss you on the lips. “I will.”

--

If you didn’t trust Jimin so much you’d think he was cheating on you.

You know that Jimin has his own life outside of you and you’re okay with that. You honestly are. It’s not that you want to monopolise his time, but he’s usually so willing to give it to you without you even asking—so now that it seems like he’s pulling away, it’s all the more pronounced when it happens, and you can’t help but wonder why. You’re trying not to be pushy and you haven’t outright demanded Jimin tell you what he’s so busy with; it must be important if he’s prioritising it over you and keeping it a secret, right?

Right?

You’re not needy or overbearing or clingy, but you are a tad possessive, and you can’t help but feel jealous of whatever it is that’s catching Jimin’s attention so much.

“Uh.” Taehyung’s eyes are wide. “Y/n, uh… your bra is? Kind of? Showing a little bit?”

“I know Tae, but thank you.” You take one last glance at yourself in your wing mirror before straightening up, content with how you look tonight. “I can assure you it’s entirely intentional.”

You usually opt for feminine outfits when you race, but they’re never normally this revealing; it’s borderline scandalous, really. Your bra is visible through the lace mesh of your shirt and your skirt is hiked so high it barely covers your ass, pleats fluttering each time you move. The thing that’s covering you the most is actually your pink leather jacket, but even that’s not enough to hide you from any eyes that are roving over you.

But the real kicker—the part of the outfit that would let anyone with discerning eyes know that you’re aiming for aesthetic over practicality—are your shoes. Your over-the-knee suede boots have a killer heel and they have got to be the worst things to drive with, the heels making it hard to shift your feet when you need to slam them onto the pedals, but you don’t care.

“I still think you should try talking to Jimin instead of doing… this,” Jungkook says, waving an arm at you.

“You just gestured to all of me.” You raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow. Not that you don’t always look good, of course, but tonight you’ve pulled out all the stops and it shows.

“That’s my point,” Jungkook groans. “If I nearly catch sight of your butt cheeks one more time I’m going to call the police. I’m feeling distinctly harassed.”

“You should be grateful.” You blow him a kiss and Jungkook makes a face.

“I’m going to call 911.”

“We’re not in America, Kookie,” Taehyung says. Jungkook just sighs.

Seokjin’s organised the meet at a car park in Gangnam tonight, and you watch as the lot starts to fill up, tweaked Supras and Skylines and Fairlady Zs whose engines rumble as their drivers descend into the underground level, filling the basement with noise. There are unfamiliar faces you don’t recognise, rich residents of Seoul’s most expensive neighbourhood rolling out to show off their money by way of their beautiful cars. 

You know a lot of these people won’t be racing tonight and they’re just here for the novelty of it all. Good for them. You have other things on your mind.

(If Jimin isn’t going to give you time when you want it, then you’re not going to let him take it when he wants it.  He hasn’t turned up yet but you know the second he sees you he won’t be able to keep his eyes off you—but tonight you’re not going to let him have you.)

You’re perched on the hood of your flame-red Pontiac as you wait for everyone to finish turning up, pretending to be absorbed in checking your nails as you cross your legs; you don’t have to look up to know that people are staring at you and your shameless behaviour. 

They can watch. You’re not doing this for them.

You glance up at the sound of a deep rumble, almost a purr, and your eyes widen at the sight of the next car that rolls into view. It must be the only time you’ve ever been caught off guard by an unfamiliar vehicle and you don’t even have to pretend to be overawed, breathless as you take in the gorgeous sight. 

She’s low and sleek and magnificent, stark black cut through with a thick ribbon of blood red that rises over the car's bonnet and roof, matching the crimson wheel trims and strip of colour that trails over the edge of its spoiler. The LED headlights glow white and red, crimson halo rings shimmering through the pristine and unmarked glass. She’s all smooth lines and curved edges, every contour a graceful stroke that builds up into a masterpiece, heavenly and bewitching all at once.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe, and for the first time since you started racing, you approach someone’s car before you even know who they are.

The driver is a man you don’t recognise. He’s stepped out of the car and is leaning against it casually, arms crossed and head tilted as he surveys the other motors lined up nearby, running a hand through his dyed brown hair to push it away from his forehead. He’s tall and handsome with his defined cupid’s bow and hooded eyes, and he’d almost look sleepy if he wasn’t watching you so intently, noticing your approach and keeping his eyes on you as you step forwards.

“Oh my god. A Dodge Viper?” You can’t begin to imagine the exportation costs for this thing and how much it must have cost to get the parts to modify it, let alone maintain it. (But Gangnam is an incredibly wealthy area, after all, so you’re not too surprised.)

“You like it?” The Viper’s owner tilts his head at you, a small smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “I can take you for a drive later if you’d like, beautiful.”

“Trust me, if I was sitting in this car, I’d be behind the wheel,” you say. “I bet she drives like a dream. How did you get your hands on an SRT-10 ACR? In Seoul?”

His smirk grows wider. “Brought it with me from Chicago.” He shrugs carelessly, as if it can’t have cost him a small fortune. Like the money means nothing to him. Pocket change. Holy shit. “You wanna take that seat behind the wheel to see if it suits your fancy?”

It does. You run your hands over the leather seats and tilted wheel, pretending to hide a laugh behind your hand as the driver, Johnny, leans into the car to adjust the seat for you; you spread your legs so he can reach between them to pull the bar before he can move the chair, helping you hitch it forwards so you can reach the pedals with your feet, your legs shorter than his. It’s nothing lewd but it’s undeniably flirtatious, even if you’re more focused on drinking down the car’s beautiful interior than pandering to his attention on you.

Johnny holds a hand out to help you step out of the low car and back onto your feet, taking a second to steady yourself on your heels. You’ve been so focused on the Viper that you haven’t been paying attention to the other vehicles that now fill the parking lot, but over Johnny���s shoulder you notice a car that’s as familiar as your own by now—Jimin’s black Skyline.

Your hand is still lingering in Johnny’s as you take the sight in. Jimin looks surprisingly flashy today, jewel embellished bomber jacket catching the eye, Gucci shirt tucked into leather trousers that are cinched tight against his waist by his belt, highlighting his thick thighs and perfect ass. Still pink-haired and always gorgeous. Your beautiful, charming, wonderful boyfriend.

When you make eye contact with him for the first time that night, a hot shiver shoots through you, goosebumps rising over your skin. Jimin’s lips are a firm line and his eyes are dark through the soft touch of faint eyeshadow, and he looks almost impassive, cold; even when you’d first met, back when you’d been nothing more than opponents, he’d never looked like this. 

He’s furious.

He doesn’t come over to wish you good luck today and you don’t approach him either.  Even if this hadn’t been your aim to begin with, who can blame you? You’ll work with this. Maybe it’s passive aggressive, maybe it’s petty, but if Jimin isn’t going to give you the time of day you can’t be blamed if you’re feeling starved for attention, right?

Johnny might be watching, and others might be staring, but at the end of the day you’re only ever aware of one man—and Jimin knows that. 

You’ve been driving your Pontiac for long enough that adding heels to the mix doesn’t throw you off as much as people might expect (besides, you’ve been practicing). Even so, it wouldn’t matter if they did, because you’re not wearing them to help achieve a victory—for the first time ever, you don’t care if you beat Jimin today. Not on the track, anyway. You wanted him wound up and frustrated, desperate to touch you, and it seems like he is.

It shows in his driving. He’s always a sight to behold when he races, swaying his body into the motion of his car as they dance together, every motion practiced and sure. But tonight his actions are sharp and angry. Jimin curls his Skyline into each turn, hard and fast; the Nissan almost seems to float as he pulls the steering wheel and sets the wheels at the perfect angle to achieve his drift, swinging effortlessly around the crescents of safety cones of today’s course. 

He beats you. 

And yet you’re the one who’s smiling. You step out of your car and take in his frosty expression; your heart pounds in your chest but you pretend to be unaffected, disappearing into the throng of fans who are hollering in excitement for the after party now that all the races have finished. 

“Oh, hey, Y/n!” Hoseok seems unperturbed when you loop your arm through his, staying cheerful as you latch onto him. He’s still one of the few drivers who you actually like and trust to not be lecherous towards you, no matter what you’re wearing. “Wow, you’re a lot taller than normal. Where’s Jimin?”

“Don’t know,” you say. It’s true—he’d disappeared after the race and you have no idea where he’s gone, but you know you’ll find him eventually. Or he’ll find you. You always find each other in the end. “Where are the drinks? Is there anything non-alcoholic?”

Hoseok manages to find some cans of coke, much to your delight. He tilts his own can against yours in a cheers motion as you continue to cling to him, sipping your drink, eyes scanning the crowd for where your boyfriend might have disappeared to. 

By the time your can is empty and drained of liquid, Jimin has yet to appear. You frown. It’s not like him to be gone for so long, even if he’s angry right now. You unravel your arm from Hoseok’s and pat his cute cheek as a thank you for letting you hold onto him for so long before you slip away from the after party; you’re uninterested in keeping up the facade of having fun if Jimin isn’t around. 

The elevator is deserted when you step into it, pressing the button to take you to the roof, where you’d left your Pontiac after finishing the race earlier. It’s starting to get chilly and your sheer top does nothing to protect you from the nip in the air. You draw your leather jacket closer around you once the elevator doors open, stepping out onto the rooftop and towards your Solstice. 

There are no lights up here but you don’t need any. Gangnam never sleeps, lights from billboards and skyscrapers washing over each of the buildings, and the sky is clear tonight too—the moon is shining down, silver and bright. You spot a familiar silhouette, bathed in white light where he sits atop your Pontiac’s hood, leaning back on his palms in the way he always does.

Jimin’s the only person who's allowed to touch your car like that.

You let your jacket fall back open as you approach. Jimin’s eyes flicker over to you, his face remaining hard as he watches. A cold shiver runs down your spine but you hold your ground—you’re not about to bow down immediately in the face of his quiet frustration.

Jimin’s eyes slide over you, taking every inch of you in; each part of your revealing outfit, your flawless makeup, your boots, their unnecessary heel. Even though you know he’s angry right now you can tell he likes what he sees and you can’t help but feel pleased about it. 

“Come here, sweet thing,” he says. He spreads his knees apart so you can stand between his legs, because of course you immediately comply with him; he lifts one hand off the car’s bonnet to grasp your chin in his hands, tilting your face down towards him. He doesn’t let go. His grasp is firm. “Any reason why you’re so dolled up today?”

“Nope.” You pop your lips loudly around the p. “No reason at all. Why, do I need a reason to want to look pretty?”

Jimin’s grip tightens and his eyes narrow. Wrong answer. A small puff of air escapes you, knees weak—you’ve never seen Jimin so affected by anything and you feel weirdly powerful at this realisation. There’s something thrilling to know that only you can get under his skin like this.

“Of course not.” Jimin’s voice is deceptively smooth and low, something burning in his gaze. “Just seems to me like my baby wanted everyone’s eyes on her tonight, for one reason or another.”

You stay silent. You don’t want everyone’s eyes on you: you just want his.

Jimin crooks one of his eyebrows at you as you remain quiet. He takes his hand off your chin and lets it fall, dragging it over the lace of your top, through the valley of your breasts and down your stomach before slipping under the hem, splaying his hand over your belly. You can’t help but shiver, body singing under his touch when he draws his nails lightly over your skin. The sight of his hand against you, visible through the netting of your shirt, sets the blood to rising in your veins.

“Oh? Shy all of a sudden, baby?” His eyebrow is still raised as he watches your movements, the way you react to him so easily, always attuned to his touch. “Where was all that shyness earlier, hm? You seemed so bold behind the wheel of that little Viper.”

“I was just having a look,” you say, acting a little pettish. You hadn’t been planning on letting Jimin touch you, but—but you’re so weak for him, and besides, you don’t want him thinking that you’re shying away from his hands because you’d been talking to Johnny earlier.

Jimin rises, pulling his hand from under your shirt as he does. “And everyone was looking at you,” he says. You know he can be possessive and it’s fine, because you are too, and you have no eyes for anyone else but him; normally he likes it when people look at you, because they don’t have a chance and he knows it. “Do you like it when people watch you, sweet thing?”

He punctuates this question with a movement of his hands, one coming to rest at your collarbones, the other sliding between your legs with no warning, running his fingers over the material of your underwear. You jolt in surprise, sucking in a breath.

“You want me to take you right here, hm?” His fingers are rubbing small, tantalisingly light circles over your clit, your panties a maddening barrier between your skin and his. “Bend you over and fuck you on this rooftop where anyone could see?”

Your cunt clenches, entire body going tight at the idea, and Jimin’s eyes darken when he notices. He flips your positions, and your hand fly out to brace yourself against the hood of your car as Jimin shoves the material of your skirt upwards, bunching it around your waist, revealing the scalloped edges of your skimpy lace underwear and the two tiny bows that adorn the centre line of them.

“You want me to call everyone up here? Let them see how well you take my cock?” Jimin continues to run his palms over the flesh of your ass as he speaks. He digs his fingers into your skin and a moan slips out of your lips, the pain shooting through you and dulling into pleasure. “I bet you want them to touch you too, don’t you?”

“No,” you insist. “No, Jimin, only want you—”

“You expect me to believe that you’re not a hungry little cockslut, dressed the way you are tonight, hm?”

You’re blindsided by the arousal that floods through you. You know that Jimin doesn’t think that, not really, but the way he lets the degradation fall from his lips has your toes curling.

“I only want your cock,” you say, trembling. Any rush of power you felt earlier is gone. Jimin is entirely in control now and you both know it. “Wanted you to look at me—dressed pretty for you—”

“Oh, sweet thing,” Jimin hums, sounding indulgent. “You were just feeling needy, was that it?”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, need you so much.”

God. You’re so weak and needy right now, and it’s crazy how much power Jimin has over you; you’ve never been so ready and willing to surrender yourself up before, your earlier planning and resolve slipping away almost as soon as Jimin had laid his hands on you. But what you have with Jimin is built on trust, and you trust him enough to be vulnerable in front of him, to let him see how hungry and desperate you are for his touch.

Then again, he’s always hungry for you, too.

He strokes his hands down your ass and thighs before he circles his hand around your throat to pull you up. He puts no pressure behind his fingertips but you feel helpless anyway, breathless as he pulls you flush against him, your back to his chest, head tilted upwards with how his hand is resting around your throat.

Jimin’s voice is pitched low and his breath is warm against your ear as he lets the words curl out of his mouth. “What does my baby need?”

Oh, he does so love to hear you beg. Your eyes flicker towards a sudden flash of light; there’s someone using the elevator, panel lighting up, letting you know they’re on the way to the rooftop.

“Jimin—”

He presses closer to you, trapping you against your car, helpless. “If you don’t tell me what you need you won’t get it,” he says, and you shudder.

“Need you to fuck me,” you gasp out. “Need you to make me cum—need you to fill me up—want you so bad—”

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

Jimin steps away just as the elevator dings, doors sliding open to reveal a gaggle of people, fans crowding around a few drivers. The smile on Jimin’s face is wicked as you turn around, and you almost hate how nonchalant he looks while you’re so affected. You have no doubt the flimsy material of your underwear and the high hem of your skirt is doing nothing to hide how slick you are, so you’re grateful that the rooftop is only lit in dim light.

One of the drivers peels off from the group and you realise that it’s Johnny. He approaches you despite how Jimin wraps an arm around your waist, hand sliding under your jacket—you let yourself relax, leaning against Jimin’s familiar body, settling against him in a way you don’t even have to think about any more.

“Nice driving,” Johnny says. He hadn’t actually raced himself, but his Dodge is a powerful and vicious beast, so you’re not surprised he didn’t want to risk damaging her in the tight corners of the car park. She thrives on the open road, not indoors. “Want to put those skills to the test in my Viper?”

“She’s busy.” Jimin pulls you even closer. He has his usual mask on now, distant and aloof. You’re the only one who sees his softness, or his lust. (That’s only for you.)

“Wasn’t talking to you, man.” Johnny doesn’t even spare Jimin a glance, ignoring him despite how Jimin had beaten you earlier—he just stares at you. You can’t help but feel insulted on your boyfriend’s behalf. He’s a fantastic driver and he deserves every bit of attention that Johnny is lavishing on you.

“Thank you, but it’s true, I’m busy,” you say. Jimin’s thumb is slowly brushing up and down your side; just a small, tiny motion, but you’re hyperaware of it. You lift your hand to rest on Jimin’s chest, over the raised, glittering Roman numerals of his shirt. “Enjoy your Viper. She’s beautiful.”

Johnny stands there for a second and then shrugs. “Aight,” he says. “I will. Have a nice night, I guess.”

He wanders off and gets absorbed back into the group of people he’d appeared with. Jimin turns his head and kisses your cheek, and then your ear, dipping his head to mouth at your neck, and you grip the hand that’s resting on your waist.

“Jiminie,” you say. “We need to go.”

He laughs against the skin of your throat. He sounds smug, the desperation obvious in your tone. “Always so needy, sweet thing,” he murmurs. “Haven’t heard the saying all good things come to those who wait?”

Jimin’s making you pay for your earlier boldness and you know it. There’s an ache between your legs, one that needs to be satisfied, but he seems happy to wait, unruffled. You’re so riled up right now and he seems unmoved, even if the iciness around him has melted now.

“I’ve been waiting all night.” You squirm a little, tightening your thighs, trying to offer yourself some relief; Jimin can always turn you on so fast and you can feel a physical throb of arousal in your cunt, lips swollen, begging to just be touched.

He lets out a little sigh, as if he’s being put upon right now. You’re torn between wanting to kiss him or shove him away from your car.

“Fine,” you say, making your tone a petulant one as you turn your nose up. “I guess I’ll just go home and grab my vibrator—”

Jimin tugs you against him, his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes.  His voice is quiet but undeniable. “No, you won’t. I’m not done with you, sweet thing. You’re always so impatient.” He loosens his hold so he can pull his head away and then he’s smiling at you; there’s something behind that smirk, something in his eyes. “Come on, baby.”

He gives you no chance to question him. You drive beside him in your Solstice, trying to ignore how your skirt is hitched up and you can feel yourself dripping on the leather seat; the rumble and vibrations of your car provide the barest of reliefs, nowhere near what you really want. 

You know Jimin’s apartment will be deserted tonight, Yoongi staying with Taehyung, leaving you and Jimin alone, but he still teases you even as you step inside. You try to crowd up against Jimin, get him to touch you— you know that he wants to and he usually gives in once you’re this wound up and aching, but tonight he seems content not to. At one point you try to guide his hand under your shirt again and he grabs your wrist, giving you a look that makes your knees go weak, even if you scowl at him. He hasn’t even kissed you properly yet.

“Be patient,” he says. 

There’s a note of warning in his voice. Normally you’d be more willing and pliant, ready to listen, but this entire escapade started because you’re feeling neglected and ignored—this is just the icing on the cake.

“I have been! Come on,” you whine. “Don’t you want your reward for winning tonight?”

Jimin’s mouth is a hard line. “I’m going to claim my prize,” he says. “But it seems like you’re making this about you, aren’t you? Always so greedy, sweet thing. I guess I’ve been too lax with you, haven’t I?”

You pause. He has that look in his eye, one that you’ve started to recognise the more you see it, and you can feel your pussy throbbing when you realise that he’s starting to take complete control of the situation. You’re equals on the track, and equals in this relationship, but recently in the bedroom you’ve been giving up your position at the helm sometimes, letting Jimin control the pace.

Because you trust him.

“Maybe,” you answer, and Jimin smiles. “But you can’t blame me for that.”

“No, that’s true,” Jimin says. “That’s why I’ll only punish you for your earlier shameless behaviour, not your impatience. I’ll give you five.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate on what he means. Five spanks. Barely anything, really. You scoff. “Five? Why even bother at that point?”

Jimin’s eyes darken. “Another five for answering back. That’s ten altogether. You want to keep going, baby?”

Do you? You’re not sure. Jimin’s helped you discover that you enjoy spanking, sure, but do you really want to waste time on more spanks when you could be getting something better?

You’ve clearly been quiet for long enough that Jimin finds it concerning. “What’s your colour, sweet thing?”

A warm flush of affection spreads through your chest, the reminder that no matter what happens, you have your safewords: that even though you feel like Jimin is controlling the direction of the night, you have the power to stop it if you need to. You decide that ten is enough. “Green,” you say. “I’m green, Jimin.” 

You watch as he smiles at you, pleased, before he pulls the rings off his right hand, dropping them to the coffee table and ignoring the clatter of metal against glass. Once his hand is free and unadorned he takes a seat in the middle of the sofa, patting his thighs. “Boots off, and then I want you over here, baby.”

You shrug your jacket off and let it fall to the floor before you pull the tie-string at the top of your boots, letting them sag open before you kick them aside. You try to ignore how slick your folds feel and how wet you are as you make your way over to him, draping yourself across his lap; his thighs feel so thick and firm under your stomach, shifting forwards so that your ass is tilted up towards him, settling over his knees. You glance over your shoulder to look at Jimin but he just tuts.

“Eyes forward.”

You bite your lip but obey, facing forwards again as you stretch your arms in front of you, staring at your hands. You can’t see what Jimin is doing but you focus on the sensation of each of his motions. How he pulls your skirt up like he had earlier, how the air of the room is cool on your skin. 

You choke in a gasp when he takes the material of your underwear and tugs it up, revealing the bare skin of your ass when he pulls them tight; the pressure against your clit feels so good but it’s still not enough, even when you try to roll your hips forwards into the sensation. He clicks his tongue and then pulls them down instead, letting them settle at your knees, nothing better than a flimsy restraint.

“I want you to count them for me,” Jimin murmurs. He’s rubbing his hands over your skin, your lower back and ass and thighs, getting you ready; he swats your skin lightly a few times to get you prepared, each quick slap a glancing touch that quickly fades. “One to ten. Okay?”

“Okay.” Your voice is shakier than you thought it would be, so wound up and desperate for any sort of relief. Even though the light hits that he’s raining down on your skin fade almost instantly you can feel the coil tightening inside you, the anticipation building up, ready to burst.

The first real smack has you jolting in his lap. The pain quickly fades into pleasure and you clench your hands as the sensation rolls through you. “One,” you count as Jimin rubs his palm over your skin, soothing it.

The next smack is on your other buttock, Jimin’s flat palm leaving a stinging sensation against your skin that tingles outwards and into your core. “T-two.”

You continue to count out each smack. Jimin varies the intensity and speed of them, alternating between caressing your skin or squeezing the flesh of your ass between each one; you can never anticipate how he’s going to move, each slap against your skin a sharp pain that instantly melts into pleasure, sensation dulling and spreading into a tingling sting that settles into you.

By the time you’re ready for the last hit you’re almost sobbing with pleasure, trying your best not to squirm in his lap, trying not to think about how much you’re dripping. Jimin dips his fingers lower, glancing over your sodden folds, and you gasp out loud at the teasing, desperate for more.

“One more.” Jimin’s voice is low. “You’re doing so, so well, baby. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you confirm, and then his hand is coming down against the swell of your ass for the final time. “Ten,” you gasp.

Jimin’s hands are all over you, stroking you, praising you with his words and touch. He turns your head towards him so he can crane forwards and kiss you. It’s an awkward position but you can’t help but lean into the kiss, the first time his lips have touched yours tonight, ample reward after the punishment you’d just taken.

“Did so well,” he praises. “How are you doing, baby?”

His hands are rubbing over your sore flesh. Your skin stings but the ache isn’t bad, although you can’t help but think that you’re not going to want to put any pressure on your ass any time soon. “I’m good,” you say. “So good. Thank you, Jiminie.”

He lets out a tinkling little laugh. “Thanking me for a punishment, sweet thing?”

You feel loose and relaxed, limp in Jimin’s lap, all the endorphins from the spanking running through your veins. “I deserved it,” you sigh.

Your head is turned to one side so you can glance at Jimin, though the angle still prevents you from seeing anything in any sort of detail—so you’re caught completely off guard when he pushes a finger into you, your lower lips parting so easily for him, and you let out a reedy cry when he presses another one in when he realises you can take it.

“You’re fucking dripping,” Jimin breathes, and you writhe as he presses in deeper, his pretty little fingers sinking so easily into your greedy cunt. You can’t spread your legs properly with how your underwear is hooked around your knees and you feel so tight around his fingers, especially when he presses a third one in, the slight burn fading so quickly into pleasure. “Oh, just look at you.”

The slick sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you is lewd. You’re so, so wet, only growing wetter as he continues to move his hand; he doesn’t touch your clit and when you try to rock against his thighs he uses his other hand to hold you still, splaying his fingers over the heated flesh of your ass. 

He knows how hard you find it to cum without any stimulation to your clit and doesn’t touch you where you’re desperate to be touched, focusing on turning you into a quivering, needy mess in his lap. Your skin feels overheated and your nipples are hard in the cups of your bra, almost painful, and you’re so, so hungry for your release.

“Jimin, please,” you sob. “Please, please—”

He pulls all of his fingers out of you all at once. Tears of frustration spring to your eyes and you kick your feet as you clench and unclench your hands, but then Jimin is guiding you off his lap, putting his hands around your waist to move you. His hands are quick and fast as they tug your skirt down your legs, though he’s still careful to ease the waistband over the curve of your hips and ass, avoiding the stinging skin. You feel the lace of your top rip as you both hastily pull it off, but you really don’t give a shit, fumbling for the clasp of your bra as soon as you can; you’re naked and needy in front of a fully-clothed Jimin, who’s looking at you with hooded eyes as he stands.

Normally you take the time to touch him, feel his soft skin under your hands and lips, tease him and work him up with his cock in your mouth, but tonight it seems like he’s too impatient to wait. When you reach out for him he takes hold of your wrists, his grasp gentle but firm, and he guides you into the position he wants— knees on the sofa, hands braced against the backrest, looking over your shoulder so you can drink him in as he gets undressed.

First, that beautiful embellished bomber of his, carelessly cast to one side. Next, the shirt, tugged out of the tight loop of his belt and pulled over his head, revealing his beautiful chest and stomach, the tattoos you’ve grown familiar with still beautiful as ever on his skin. The belt, unbuckled, leather trousers shoved down and kicked aside, and then he pulls his socks off and he’s finally, finally done. He looks so beautiful like this, naked save for the jewellery on his body— the chain around his neck, the bracelets at his wrists, the rings on his left hand, and of course, the simple, silver hoops in his ears.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” you breathe. 

Jimin’s expression is clouded with lust but you can see how his eyes go soft at your reverent tone, and he bends forwards to catch your mouth against his again; it’s deep and slow but messy, sloppy with the desperation you have for each other. “You’re gorgeous too,” he murmurs against your lips, and you smile, leaning into him. “My pretty baby.”

One of his hands settles at the curve of your waist, and the other grips his cock, ready to press into you. You’re almost shivering, so, so ready for him, entire body on edge; you choke in a gasp when you feel his cockhead brush against your folds, the slide so wet and easy. You feel how you part for him once he breaches you, your inner walls opening for his familiar hardness, pulling him in deeper and deeper until he bottoms out.

The skin of your ass stings where he’s pressed against it, but it’s just another sensation on top of the pleasure singing through you, settling in your lower belly and between your legs. Jimin wastes no time and starts to snap his hips forwards, one hand at your waist and the other at your shoulder to give him leverage to drive into you, curving your spine as you struggle to hold yourself up— the slap of his skin against yours and the wet sounds of his cock breaching your cunt is almost deafening, but then he leans forward to hook his arm around you, taking his fingers and rubbing tight, quick circles on your clit, fingers still wet from where they’d been sunk into you before.

The noise you make when you finally cum drowns out the other sounds that have been filling the room. You cum so hard your legs shake and you slump forwards, thighs trembling as you fold your weight into your arms, ripples of pleasure skating through you from your dripping cunt, still stuffed full of Jimin’s hot cock.

Jimin slows his thrusts, though he’s still pumping in and out of you, aftershocks trembling through your body from your orgasm. He puts a hand in your hair and tugs, pulling you against him, the skin of your back pressed against his chest. “Is my baby still feeling needy, hm?”

You nod your head, still grinding back against him, chasing the pleasure of his cock shifting inside you and the ache of your stinging skin dragging against his hipbones. “Yes,” you say, breathless. “Yes, need more.”

Jimin laughs, a triumphant little sound. You’re too far gone to even feel embarrassed at how shameless you’re being right now. “I knew it,” he says. “Greedy little cockslut, aren’t you?”

You clench around him, swallowing down a moan. “Only for you, Jiminie.”

“No one else is ever going to be good enough, are they?” He circles his hips and you shudder against him at the feeling, how his cock drags against your inner walls. “No one else knows how to please my baby like I do, do they?”

“No,” you agree. “No, no one else, only you— oh—”

Jimin stays inside you as he turns you around, hands firm around your waist as he sits down and pulls you with him, seating you in his lap. You lean back against him, rolling your hips and arching your spine when he cups your breasts in his hands, kissing down the length of your neck before sucking marks into your skin. Once it seems like he’s satisfied with how clearly he’s marked you as being taken, as being his, he starts to bounce you in his lap, thick thighs cushioning your fall each time you drive your hips back down.

“Can you cum again for me, baby?” His fingers are digging so firmly into your hips now that you wonder if it’ll bruise, but you can’t help but want it, want more reminders that you’re his. Reminders of his touch. “Can you give me one more?”

“Y-yes,” you hiccup, breath driven out of you with one particularly hard rock of Jimin’s hips. “Wanna come with you, Jimin.”

You can tell when Jimin’s close to his release. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know—you can picture the sweat in his hair, the set of his brows and the curve of his mouth as he moans. You know the cadence of his gasps, how the motions of his hips start to speed and go off rhythm; you know exactly when to let your hand fall between your legs, rubbing at your clit so that you can cum with Jimin, your entire body wound up and ready to tumble off the edge with him. He puts his hand over yours, pressing the pads of your fingers down harder on your swollen bundle of nerves as your fingers grow slick with your wetness, and you’re gone.

You hit your peak with a breathless, wanton cry, throwing your head back against Jimin’s shoulder as your toes curl and you cum again. You’re swept up in the sensation of pleasure washing through your body when you feel how Jimin shudders underneath and inside you, how your cunt is still clenching as his cock twitches, as he empties himself into you. You’ve never cum the same time as someone before. It’s almost like you’re pulling the cum out of him, drawing it deeper inside you with each wave of sensation that ripples through your core, and you slump back against him, your chests heaving as you both ride out your highs; the tremors slowly subside as Jimin strokes his hands over your skin, and you twist your head so you can kiss each other slowly, lazily pressing your lips together as you catch your breaths, pleasure from your orgasms settling into every inch of your bodies.

“My pretty baby,” Jimin says, quiet and sweet against your mouth. You smile and rub your nose against his, pressing a swift kiss to the swell of his cupid’s bow.

“All yours,” you say, leaning into the tight embrace that Jimin wraps you in.

You feel blissful and fucked out, lying on your side on the sofa to save putting pressure on your still sore ass, watching Jimin as he moves around the room. He gathers up your clothes and you see how he pauses when he reaches your boots. It’s like you both remember all at once what lead you to this moment, and you see how Jimin turns his head to you with a question on his lips—he knows you well enough to know that everything you do is thought out and measured and that there would have been a reason that you were dressed so provocatively. You wouldn’t have done it on a whim, just because you felt like it.

“Y/n,” he says, and you look away from him, suddenly embarrassed. Every touch tonight has cemented the fact that Jimin cares about you and gives you time and attention, so now you just feel like some sort of dumb petulant child who was being greedy—you didn’t think you were monopolising Jimin’s time, but you obviously are. “Why—”

“You kept saying you were busy,” you interrupt, though you keep your eyes off him, staring up at the ceiling instead. “I was just—I was just feeling neglected and I wanted you to look at me. I wasn’t trying to get anyone else’s attention, I just wanted you to want to spend time with me, because you’ve been so busy recently and you won’t tell me why,” you finish, your voice quiet. You feel silly even as the final words come out.

“Oh, sweet thing.” Jimin’s voice is warm and gentle. You glance away from the ceiling to see him carefully setting all the clothes and mess to one side, heedless of the tangle of expensive clothing, and he crouches by the sofa to cup your face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, nuzzling into his lovely hands, into the now-familiar sensation of his fingers against your cheeks. “I was just being greedy.”

“No, you weren’t, you’re right.” His hair is mussed and his eyeshadow is smudged, as is yours, the two of you vulnerable with each other in ways you never are with anyone else. His eyes are soft and his face is open as he dips down to kiss your forehead, brushing the loose hair away from your face. “I have been very busy and I’ve been unfair by not telling you why.”

“You don’t have to,” you insist, but he shakes his head.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” he says. “Hold on.”

You watch him leave the room and pad down the hallway, past Yoongi’s bedroom and into his own, and you sit up when you see him reappear with a small collection of papers, print-outs that you try to catch a glimpse of before he spreads them on the coffee table for you to see.

“I’ve been going on apartment viewings,” he says. “I was trying to work out which place was best. What’s in our budget, where’s between my work and your garage—I’ve been trying to narrow it down.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded. He’s smiling at you in that way of his that you love so much, the one that squeezes his eyes and lets you see his crooked front tooth—the smile that drives home that Jimin is flawlessly flawed, perfect with his imperfections, overwhelming in his beauty.

“Jimin,” you breathe. “You want to move in with me?”

“More than anything,” he says. “I thought it would be nice if you didn’t have to worry about anything because I would have already done all the legwork. I wanted to surprise you.”

Your face crumples. You don’t mean to, but you can feel tears welling in your eyes; Jimin moves instantly, pulling you close to him as you try to swallow down the sudden rush of emotion, overwhelmed. You’re both still naked, your skin pressed against his as he holds you, but there’s no lust behind this touch—it’s all love and affection and you still can’t believe that Park Jimin is yours. You’ve never felt so lucky in all your life.

“You should have told me,” you sniffle. “Apartment viewings suck. I could have helped.”

Jimin laughs, a light giggle that ends up muffled against your scalp when he noses into your hair. “That would have defeated the purpose of the surprise, sweet thing,” he says. He pulls back so he can look at you, and just like when he’d seen you cry before, there’s no judgement on his face—just warm empathy and fondness. “They do suck, though. It’s taken so much longer than I thought. I never meant to make you feel neglected.”

“I was being stupid.” You huff out a breath into his face. “Like—okay, sure, maybe you weren’t spending as much time with me as you normally do, but you weren’t neglecting me. I just got so used to having you whenever I wanted you.”

Jimin smiles. He keeps hold of you, pulled close in his embrace, and you know then that you’re never going to let Park Jimin go. “When we move in, you will,” he says, and you shiver at the promise of future pleasure—not just sex, but closeness, intimacy, a promise to one another that this is going to become more.

But, like, also the sex, too.

God, Jimin is so gorgeous.

You let Jimin thumb your small tears away. You hate crying in front of anyone, hate feeling weak, but Jimin never judges you. He makes you feel safe, like you can be open with him, and you know he’ll never betray your trust. You press a kiss to his Adam’s apple before you peer at the printed sheets on the coffee table, wanting to see the fruits of his labour. “So are these the ones you’ve narrowed it down to?” Your eyes flicker over the pages. “Take me through them.”

You end up curled in his lap, looking through each of his choices together—and hey, if you get distracted by each other halfway through the selection, who can blame you?

---

TAGLIST: @beyoncesdragon​ 

#jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts smut #bts #jimin oneshot #jimin fanfic #bts x reader #joy.masterlist

[kueruzu]

Guess who finally has the confidence to share the drabble they made based on the jumbled up Soul Eater divergence au they made up.

Me!

I do!

So this is a Soul Eater Canon Divergence drabble I did based on an au I randomly conjured up around Maka and Soul doing some “evil” shit.

Please note of something like this exists I had no idea of it!

Trigger/Content Warning:

This includes, Emotional Manipulation, Aggression, Chaining up/Imprisonment depicted (probably/assumably) incorrectly

There was no proof-reading either— Have f u n—

Here we go!

The cell floor hurt. Her legs hurt, again. The dripping water grated her nerves. The lack of things to pull her attention made her unfocused.

But she couldn't complain. She put herself there. She chose to do bad and for that long? It's a miracle Shinigami showed her mercy, even if she had been the one to outsmart his rules and get off without dying.

Was death that bad though? Compared to living in this dirty cell with her meals brought to her and someone coming in to make sure she exercised each day, death seemed like a nice release.

She looked up as the slider at the top of the door in front of her moved. Green eyes peered at her with pity before the door opened. She saw her chance immediately.

Were they dumb enough to send him of all people?

“Maka...”

Apparently so.

She began to struggle back as he approached, crocodile tears welling up.

“Go away! Go away!”

“Maka there’s no need fo-”

“You might as well have gagged me too! I never want to see you again! Go away!”

He kneeled in front of her, still a ways away for her comfort. Still ever the ‘caring’ father.

“You watched them... You let them lock me up...”

“Maka there was nothing I-”

No words or proper syllables came out, just a guttural scream in his face as the tears poured. He kept calm though, his expression was still soft. But she knew he’d crack. She just needed to hurt him more. Just a tad bit more.

“You watched them do it... You helped! You..! You..! You threw me away! You never lo-”

“Maka you know I love you-”

“LIAR!”

His composition began to crumble and internally she smirked. So close. So, so, so close.

“Maka, please...”

“No! You! Mama! Sid! All of you! You all loved it when I went off the deep end huh?! You were all waiting for it! You were so thrilled to get the waste of talent out the academ-”

“MAKA!”

Silence befell them again. Maka’s tears streamed down her cheek. Spirit watched her as tears welled in his eyes. Her head tilted down in shame as Spirit placed down the food he had brought. His hands lifted to cup soft cheeks as his thumbs brushed away the excess tears.

“Maka. I couldn't do anything. You... You did something unspeakable. You... It’s a miracle you weaseled your way out of being on his list... I know it doesn't seem like it but really, I do lo-”

“My arms hurt... Papa my arms hurt...”

In seconds he was leaning over, peppering soft kisses on her cheeks and atop her tears. She hiccuped and sobbed as he did, beginning to struggle in the restraints.

“Papa, Papa my arms hurt. Please, please they hurt a lot. Papa-”

Soon he was shushing her, trying to soothe her to the best of his ability without crossing lines. But she kept crying and struggling and she knew he was right at the edge of his rope. Soon he’d give in. But for now, she accepted the fake affections.

Mama, Sid, Stein, Him, even Shinigami-sama. She hadn’t been lying in her accusations. She knew they were true. She knew they all saw her as weak. She was nothing more than a burden for her team. They must have celebrated when she was gone. Kid, Star, those two must have been elated. She knew it. Deep down she could hear their voices so clearly, each hiding behind those fake words of praise. They either pitied her for being so unbelievably weak or wished she’d simply die in battle so they never had to see her again. All of them did, all of them still do.

Except him. Lord Death bless him, he never thought of her as weak. He saw her as a partner, an equal, his friend, his most prized and treasured person.

And soon she’ll find him again.

“I know it hurts. I know Maka... But soon you’ll get council with Lord Death or I. Then we can discuss the proper punishment. You just... Just need to stop trying to escape...”

She whined and he sighed.

“Just behave..? Please? It hurts. I know it hurts. But if you behave, your council won’t keep getting pushed back..!”

No response came from her. She could almost hear how he fell off the ledge.

“Maka? Maka? Sweetie? Please. Talk to me... I’m sorry..”

And just like that, she wrapped him around her little finger. Just a few more words and she’d be free from these chains.

“Papa...” she watched his face light up as she gently nuzzled against his warm palm, “Papa can you take them off? Can you take them off? The arm and leg cuffs. Please..?”

“Maka you-”

“Daddy please..?”

Like that, he was uncuffing her.

People are so easy with the right words.

Her arms fell to her sides and she shifted her legs. She smiled shakily, looking up at him and sniffling. Seconds after she was engulfed in a hug. Slowly, she hugged back, her arms snaking around his neck and returning the hug. Her head rested on his shoulder as she blabbered her apologies.

Not yet.

She pushed him away gently, trying to stand after the long hours of sitting with little movement. Shakily, she got to her feet, stretching and holding his hands for support. Giggles erupted from her and she looked up at him with a beaming smile.

A bit more.

He let her walk around him, fixing her balance all on her own. Soon enough she was hugging him again, burying her face in his chest. A solemn smile curled on his face when she looked up. He closed his eyes and hugged her against him.

Now.

She pulled away, Spirit still relaxed with their moment. She grabbed his wrists firmly, a quiet hum and escaping him in confusion before she pulled and kneed him in the crotch. With a yelp, he fell forward, the girl taking the opportunity to grab him in an unrelenting chokehold.

It took only a mere 50 seconds to knock him down, what with all his struggling and confusion. Plus, he wouldn’t dare hurt his ‘pride and joy’ of a daughter. She existed in his heart as his little ray of sunshine behind the clouds.

People are so easy with the right tricks.

His body was dropped to the ground with a decisive hum. She grabbed his ID card, the keys for her restraints, two pieces of gum to chew on, and snuck off, hoping to be able to use it in her endeavors.

She crept her way towards the door, peeking out to look through the hallways. Once deducting that the coast was clear she let herself out, silently finding her way to his cell. She popped a piece gum in her mouth as she did, much too happy to enjoy the treat.

They thought putting him far away would affect her soul perception? She could find him in a sea of doppelganger easier than an addict can find their next buzz. Soul was almost like her drug anyway.

After a few minutes of careful walking and dodging other faculty members, she found his cell. After looking through the slider to double-check that it indeed was him, she began to fiddle with the lock.

A few quiet curses slipped before she got it. Why was this whole place so easy?! It’ll like Shinigami-sama made it to cater for children!

The door opened and she hummed.

“Eat shit.”

“That’s no way to talk to me.”

His eyes shot up, widening with understandable confusion. Soon he couldn't deny who stood before him. Just as he realized it wasn’t some sick joke, she lunged.

She hugged him close, a hiss of pain the only response before he nuzzled his face against her hair. She took a deep breath in, enjoying the soft embrace.

When they pulled apart, reluctantly, of course, she began to uncuff him as well.

Soon enough, he was wrapping his arms around her and she was burying her face into his chest once more. Slender pianist fingers carded through blonde strands. Small and calloused hands gripped onto his sides like a lifeline.

“It’s only been like 18 days.”

“Three weeks.”

He nodded at her stern tone. She kept track of each day. Surely she wanted to escape right? Surely she wanted to get out right? Surely she wasn’t going to simply stay here till time ran out right?

“I missed you… Your hugs are warm.”

He chuckled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hmm? Then I’ll have to give you more.”

A simple nod, “yes please.”

They both giggled, sighing and laying against each other before Maka stood, trying to get him to stand as well.

Footsteps came before she could.

The door slammed open and she yelped, falling against him instinctively. His arms wrapped around her, holding her to his chest protectively.

“Maka Albarn!”

Sid.

“Wait no!”

Papa?

“She’s good I swear!”

Sod stood in the doorway, managing a menacing glare at the two. While Soul glared back just as angrily, Maka held him like a vice. Actual tears welled up this time. She was so close to some sort of escape! Yet she ruined it with her sentimentality for him. She should have just took off the restraints and had him transform. It wouldn’t have taken so long and she’d probably cover more ground with a big fuckin scythe opposed to just sitting there like a dumbass.

“Sid stop it! She’s not all bad I swear!”

“She knocked you out!”

“We made a deal!”

Sid begrudgingly dropped his glare and stepped back. Spirit walked ahead of him, stopping in front of Maka.

“He-”

“I-I’m sorry. Don’t lock me away again. Please don't lock me away again.”

He sighed, crouching down in front of her. Vague memories of five-year-old her looking up at her cool Papa came to mind before she squashed them.

“I can’t say we won’t. But-”

“You hate me! You really hate me! You want to throw me away into a cell so you never have to see me again!”

“Maka no! I-”

“You’re gonna let him lock me away again! You’re gonna let him lock Soul away again! I bet you told Kid and BlackStar we would be fine! You lied to them too huh?! I-”

“Let him speak!” roared through the cell, abruptly shutting up Maka’s cries and Spirit’s sputters. After Sid’s demand, Spirit fixed his tie and opened his arms for her.

“We can sort this out, Maka. I know you wouldn't have done something like that. You’re your mother’s daughter. You grew up in Death City. You understand why Shibusen is so important. Please, let me help you.”

The room was quiet save for the dripping of water that wasn’t too far off due to a faulty pipe.

Maka glanced at Soul who only motioned with his head for her to move. She tentatively squeezed Soul’s hand before moving away to wrap her arms around Spirit’s neck again. He closed his arms around her torso, hugging her close and standing up straight. He turned to face Sid, smiling and humming as she latched to him. A smug look was thrown at the zombie and Sid sighed.

Spirit’s pained yelp pulled Sod from his relaxation. Maka jumped out his hands as Spirit crumbled. Soul, fixing himself back into position as Maka landed, shot a glare at Sid. Maka darted for the door, hoping to squeeze past him in his momentary shock but she should have known getting past an assassin would be no easy task on her own.

Her arms were grabbed and she was pinned before she could get ahold of what was happening. She squirmed and kicked, screeching about him putting too much pressure and hurting her. He retorted that the only reason she hurt was her own resistance. It didn't stop completely but she calmed.

Soul stood, about to attack Sid when Maka shot him a glare from against the wall. His body stiffened and he bit back the angered insult he was about to throw.

“Spirit this is the fifth time! If she’s so good, why is she so annoying! I wasn't the type of guy to give up but really! Don’t you think this is eno-”

With a hiss, Spirit got to his feet. But he fell over just as quickly. He shook his head, “She’s just-”

“Rebelling? Angry? A teenager? Misguided? Trust me I've heard them all. I've said them all. Spirit I'm taking her to the tighter cells. She already had the same treatment Medusa had but clearly-”

Her scream came out broken and shaken. Granted, that's exactly what she wanted, “Papa!”

Sid pitied the poor man. His daughter could manipulate him easier than Medusa did Crona and he couldn't see it. Love is blind and that doesn't stop when it’s familial.

Spirit ripped his pant leg, tying it around his wound. Soon he began to protest, began to sputter out some retort to make it so Maka wouldn’t be hurt. But both knew how this ended. All four knew despite two struggling against it and two keeping their tongues tied.

“A-Arachne had that moral manipulator, right? Sh-she must have done something to Maka to make her act like this..! Maka... Maka would never!”

Soul rolled his eyes in the background and Sid sighed.

“Spirit. You can’t prove that. Besides. Even if she did, Maka still did those things...”

Spirit sighed dejectedly, sitting down and nodded.

“Ain’t she your daughter? You’re really gonna abandon her like that. You are one messed up geezer-“

“Mr. Eater.”

The shark-toothed weapon looked up with disdain upon hearing his name but his words ceased.

“You’re to be dealt with ne-“

“Soul didn’t do anything!”

And like that, the room was silent for a moment. At least, till she began sputtering just like her father had earlier.

“I-I used the machine on him! H-he didn’t want to follow along with my plans! S-so I manipulated his morals to-“

Soul stepped forward, only stopped by Spirit’s outstretched hand. Maka kept going, looking at her father with some sort of appreciation even if it was small.

“I manipulated his morals to align with mine! A-along with his loyalty and trust! I did it! Please don’t-“

“The hell is wrong with you? Stop lying!”

She twisted and struggled to try and lock eyes with Sid. To an extent she was successful but now the cold stone pressed against her cheek. She whined, her eyes pleading as she continued.

“S-see! With the manipulation his loyalty only amplified! I did everything! I did it all of my own accord and dragged him along!”

“Maka shut up!”

“I take responsibility as the Meister!”

And yet again, silence fell upon them. Spirit hung his head and Sid nodded. Soul gawked. He was the first to break the silence.

“Y-you don’t believe her right..?! I-I’d follow her to the ends of the earth to keep her safe! I did that before! Come on,” he stepped forward, grabbing at Spirit’s suit sleeve, tugging it harshly, “You gotta believe me. If she’s getting put in some sort of solitary confinement then-”

Sid began to lead her out. Spirit kept his head low. Soul tried running after him but Spirit’s hand wrapped around his wrist was firm.

The last thing she heard before being taken away was Soul’s screams. They weren't painful. At least, not in the absolute physical sense. But they were pained. Both knew this was the end of their partnership. Neither accepted it easily. Yet everyone seemed to think it was for the best.

#soul eater #soul eater evans #maka albarn #soul evans #sid barrett #spirit albarn #lord death #evil!au #soul x maka

[omg-imagine]

⊱ Nightmares ⊰

Pairing: John Wick x Reader

Summary: John comforts his daughter after she wakes up from a nightmare.

Warnings: a smidge of angst, but major fluff

Words: 2.3k

A/N:  I was in a dad!john mood these last couple of days and ended up writing this fic. This is set a few years after Perfect to Me, which takes place in a universe that I'll be expanding with more of these family blurbs. Hope you enjoy!

Daylight has come and gone; an inky blackness speckled with countless shimmering, twinkling lights now fills the late midnight skies above. The air is calm, so serene—it’s tranquil silence lulling John to a deep, deep slumber, one that was very much needed after a tiresome day. Beneath the thick duvet, sleep is just a touch away following a brief bout of tossing and turning in bed. It always takes a little more time for him to retire when your body isn’t next to his during the night.

Eyelids heavy with fatigue, John was teetering on the edge of consciousness when a distant scream from down the hall pierces the quietude, causing him to jolt awake. In an instant, he pushes himself up and out of the mattress, his bare feet swiftly dashing across the hardwood as he heads to the source of the worrying sound. 

A familiar adrenaline fuels John’s hasty sprint, his mind already assuming that something terrible has happened. Sadly, it was a burden he still carries as a result of his past. He knows of the horrors in reality; he had been one of them at one point. Though time has passed since he walked away from that horrid life, John remains wary, afraid that there will come a day when this beautiful paradise he has found would be taken away.

John pushes the door open with enough force that it slams harshly against the wall, his heart hammering against his chest at the sight of the empty, disheveled bed in the middle of the room. “Ellie?!” He yells her name out loud, his voice frantic, trembling as panic starts to creep in. Before he could run to check the rest of the house, John hears faint shuffling coming from behind.

“Daddy?”

A sigh of relief falls from John’s lips once he sees his five-year-old curled up in the closet, seemingly distraught as he is. She was shaking, her lashes wet with fresh tears as she glances up at her father. Kneeling down, John joins her on the floor, his rapid breathing steadied following the recent fright. Ellie immediately crawls closer to him, her short arms wrapping around his mid as she buries her face into his shirt, finding comfort in his presence.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” John murmurs low as he tenderly strokes Ellie’s hair. Her tiny frame quivers while she stifles her sobs, the mere sound of her cries shattering his heart. 

“I had a bad dream,” she responds, tone soft and weary. John’s shirt is stained with her tears, but he pays it no mind. Instead, he holds her closer, tilting his lips down to place a kiss on her forehead, which aided in relaxing his darling daughter. With his warm embrace growing tight, he assures her that she is safe from harm. 

Yet, as they sit there on the carpeted floor, John feels a crushing pain from seeing her so scared. Since becoming a father, he often frets about Ellie. There would be nights when John would wake late in the evening to check on his baby, only to find her sleeping peacefully. He has this constant unsettling anxiety that looms over his head, a rooted fear that he could not shake off easily. 

“Come,” he eventually whispers, his utterance as delicate as the way he lifts her up from the ground, carrying her back to bed. 

Gently, John lays Ellie down on the mattress, drawing the pink blanket up to her body. He then switches on the lamp on the nightstand, its soft glow illuminating what should be a haven for her. John doesn’t even wait for her to ask him to stay; he could not leave her so soon. Sighing, he sits on the edge of the bed, the palm of his hand coming to rest on the side of her angelic face with features still tainted with terror.

“What was your nightmare about?” John probes, hoping that she would answer. 

Whenever he experiences nightmares of his own, you would pose to him the same question. At first, he was reluctant to share, not wanting to have you be a part of the torment his mind poisons him with. You, however, wouldn’t sleep until John opened up, and when he finally did, you always knew exactly what to say to bring him peace, never without fail.

“I-I was outside in the dark,” Ellie recounts with a whimper, her little fingers curling around the edge of the sheet. “A big monster was chasing me, and I screamed for help, but nobody came. I couldn’t find you or mommy anywhere.”

John’s heart is heavy as he pictures her completely helpless. Ellie is so young, innocent and vulnerable. She was too pure to witness or even dream about evil, but that he has no control over. John would do anything and everything if it means keeping her safe, but what could he do in a situation like this?

“Honey, I’m sorry to hear that,” he soothes, lightly running the pad of his thumb under her eye to wipe the remaining tears away. She resembles you more, he thinks, both reminders of all the good there is in this world. “But you’re alright now. It was just a bad dream, Ellie-bear. None of it was real.”

“Are you sure?” She wearily asks. “The monster looked real, daddy. What if it shows up again when I go to sleep?”

“I’m sure, baby. If you see the monster again, I promise I will be here to protect you. Your mother and I love you so much; we will never, ever let anything bad happen to you, El. Okay?”

Ellie wordlessly responds with a nod, reaching for John’s calloused hand then clutching it tightly with her softer one. “Daddy, do you get nightmares, too?”

“Sometimes,” he reveals, rubbing circles on the back of her hand. It still amazes John how much she’s grown over the last several years. He recalls how small her hands were when she was a mere few days old and how much love he had at the time for such a tiny precious thing.

A profound love that has since multiplied immensely even to this day.

“What happens when you wake up?” 

John pauses to ponder as Ellie’s curious chocolate eyes stare at him. They mirror his own in a way, and he smiles the slightest bit, his free hand moving to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, mommy usually talks to me for a bit, just like what we’re doing right now. She reminds me each time that nightmares aren’t real and we shouldn’t be scared of them.”

“You get scared of nightmares?” 

“I do,” he truthfully states. “But you don’t have to worry. All that matters is that you’re safe now.”

Gaze faltering, John could tell that she’s not wholly convinced by the pout on her lips as she fiddles with the shiny silver band on his ring finger. His eyes briefly dart to the stuffed animal that must have fallen when Ellie jumped out of bed and scampered to the closet. Leaning down, John retrieves the toy bear, softly smiling to himself at a passing memory.

“You know, I got Mr. Teddy right after mommy told me she was pregnant with you.” 

He remembers that moment as clear as day. The two of you have long desired for a family, and following a hard year of trying, you had surprised John on his birthday. He would never forget the indescribable feeling he had when you told him he was going to be a father. 

That night, you and John had gone on a lovely walk under the stars, imagining what the near future would look like. The bear caught his attention as you passed by a children’s store, and unable to contain his utter excitement, he had purchased it for the baby to play with one day.

“I always sleep with Mr. Teddy by my side,” Ellie notes as John places the bear in her arms. It was beginning to wear out after all these years, the brown faux fur fading into a dullish color. She could have any toy she wants, but her teddy bear would forever remain. Ellie could never part with it, and it means greatly to her as much as it does to John.

“You love Mr. Teddy, don’t you?” She nods, yes. “Well, from now on, Mr. Teddy will make sure that the monster never comes back. At night, when your mother and I are sleeping in the other room, Mr. Teddy will be our eyes and ears. Even if you don’t see us, he’ll be here to keep you safe.”

The corner of Ellie’s mouth turned up in a small smile, yet it was sweet enough to reassure John. He watches his little girl bring the bear up to her lips, giving the top of its head a brief kiss before holding it out towards him. John furrows his brow in confusion as she pushes Mr. Teddy into his hand. “What’s this?”

“You said you have nightmares,” Ellie replies, her voice soft like the plush in his grasp. “Since mommy’s at work, you can bring Mr. Teddy to your room. I know you’ll always protect me, but who’s going to protect you?”

John is caught off-guard by her simple query. Ellie was incredibly bright for her age, ever so inquisitive at most times. He spends four to five seconds contemplating, but in the end, he’s unsure of what to say. It truly warms his heart knowing that she was concerned about him and was willing to give up her favorite toy that she sleeps with every night. “It’s alright, honey. You need Mr. Teddy more than I do. I’ll be fine.”

“But what if you get a bad dream later?”

“I’ll be okay,” he affirms with a tender smile. “Nightmares aren’t real, but you are. Knowing that you’re here safe and sound is all I need to remind myself not to be afraid.”

For a while, John mulls over his words, absorbing the same truth he had tried to persuade Ellie to believe in. Days, weeks, months, and years have gone by since he quit doing business in the underground world, and so far, no threat has ever come to his family. His worried mind drove this trepidation he had, and to overcome it, he needed to listen to his own advice.

Nightmares aren’t real.

But you and Ellie are.

“Daddy, can you sleep here tonight?” 

Ellie looks up at him with her adorable pair of doe eyes, and John was powerless to them. He couldn’t turn down her request; he could never say “no” to his one and only princess. “Of course. Can you scoot over for me?”

Doing so, she gives him just enough room to lay down beside her. Though the bed was too small and cramped for John’s larger self, he couldn’t care less. Once he’s settled, Ellie snuggles up against him while she holds Mr. Teddy close to her heart, letting out a yawn as exhaustion sets in.

“I love you, daddy,” she mumbles sleepily, ready for blissful dreams to follow.

“I love you too, Ellie,” John returns, exhaling a content sigh. 

Soon after, Ellie’s fast asleep, her small body relaxed, and her rhythmic breathing slowing John’s. His arms cuddle her in, cocooning her as if he’s shielding her away from any and all danger. Within moments, his consciousness begins to ebb, this time unafraid of what was to come.

---

Dawn breaks.

The skies are bright and blue.

In glorious light, John’s eyes slowly flutter open, and he is greeted by the morning sunrise. It’s still quite early, he concludes, and he decides to stay in bed for now so that he doesn’t disturb Ellie. But before he could doze off again, he hears the squeaky creak of the floorboard coming from outside. 

“Hey,” you say quietly once John notices you standing in the doorway. “I was wondering where you were.”

John beams as you tiptoe inside the room, careful not to wake your daughter. Smiling, you bend down to kiss him on the lips. “How did your shift go?”

“It was a slow night in the ER, but I’m glad to be home,” you answer, brushing John’s lengthy locks away from his face. “What happened last night?”

“Ellie had a nightmare,” he states, keeping his volume very low. “I couldn’t let her sleep alone afterwards.”

At the mention of her name, Ellie stirs awake, nose crinkling as her fists rise to rub at her tired eyes. Once adjusted to the brightness of the room, her attention falls on you, and her rosy lips promptly quirked into a gentle smile. “Mommy, you’re home!”

“I am, baby,” you cooed as you shifted to kiss her forehead. “You can go back to bed, Ellie. I just wanted to check up on you two before I sleep for a bit.”

“Mommy, can you sleep here, too?”

You glance at your husband, who only gives you a pleading look similar to Ellie’s, and quickly, you concede defeat. 

Just like John, it was impossible for you to deny her of such. 

With a nod, your feet pads to the other side, peeling back the covers as he and Ellie move to allow you enough space to join. Crawling into bed, you rest on your side while John reaches for your hand, the three of you now laying in comfortable silence.

John waits until you and Ellie drift off to sleep, his heart soaring when he realizes he’s surrounded by the loves of his life. 

And as the sun continues to rise above the horizon once again, vibrant hues of yellow and gold shining down on the earth below, John falls back to a deep, deep slumber; memories of his nightmares now long forgotten, replaced by treasured moments like this. 

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